Tag Archives: ISA

Odysseus in Ithaca

Kansas City – Let me begin with a brief confession: today was the first time I had gone to Mass since my first Sunday in London exactly 2 months ago! What’s even worse about it is that I’m writing this in my blog even before heading to the confessional to admit my failure at keeping the Sabbath to my parish priest. So, today seemed like a good day to break the drought. Happy Assumption Day!

Assumption of Mary - Reubens.

Happy Assumption Day!

Assumption Day is one of those odd holy days of obligation that usually doesn’t fall on a Sunday. For my non-Catholic readership, a holy day of obligation is a day when all Catholics are required to attend Mass. The big ones are Christmas, Easter, the Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Easter Vigil/Sunday), Pentecost Sunday, Corpus Christi, Palm Sunday, Ash Wednesday, and Annunciation Sunday. Then there are the Marian feasts. Assumption Day (15 August) is the feast which marks the event when the Blessed Virgin Mary was assumed, that is carried up into Heaven following the Ascension of Christ. The other big Marian feast is Immaculate Conception Day, which marks Mary’s being immaculately conceived (that is conceived without sin), which falls in early December.

The reason why Assumption Day is so memorable for me is that it also falls in the middle of a sort of temporal anomaly, not in the Doctor Who or even in the physical sense, but rather in the sense of timekeeping. See, I don’t follow the seasons as they are set down based upon the Equinoxes and Solstices. Rather, I use the older Gaelic calendar, which has the aforementioned solar events placed as the middle of the seasons. So, Winter begins on All Saint’s Day (1 November), Spring on St Bridgid’s Day (1 February), Summer on Bealtaine, May Day, (1 May). However, Autumn is the problem maker. The problem arises when one looks at the traditional Gaelic start of Autumn: Lúnasa (1 August). However, this doesn’t work very well with the social calendar, which in the Anglosphere usually has Autumn beginning with the start of the academic year, which falls usually around the start of September, Labour Day Weekend here in the States. So, to mend this problem in my calendar-keeping, I decided instead of observing the start of Autumn quite early on Lúnasa, or rather late on Labour Day, I’d observe it in the middle: Assumption Day (15 August.) So, Happy Autumn!

All this being said, the coming of Autumn means the coming of another academic year. This, for me, 18th annual instalment of the start of a new school year, comes at quite an interesting time in my life. I’ve had some troubles adjusting to living here in the States again after spending those three weeks living in London. I found it hard to get the will power to leave the house on Sunday mornings and drive the short way up to my parish church for Mass. On top of that, I also find myself quite irked by the politics of this country, and of the Church in this country, after experiencing the British political system firsthand. Let’s face it, I don’t get the reasoning behind all these people screaming and shouting about how they don’t want affordable health care, as our good President has enacted, or how they’re wanting to shut down the government by blocking every possible legislative measure that is proposed by the White House or the Democrats. I mean, seriously people, grow up! It reminds me of a pair of little kids playing in a sandbox, one of the two refusing to give the other the pail and shovel with which to build a sandcastle. It’s bloody infantile!

So, when Assumption Day came around, I found myself resolved to get out of the house and go back to Rockhurst to attend the Noon Mass, as a way to end the streak of skipping, and to give myself a fresh start with the new season. In a way, it was like Odysseus returning to Ithaca. I was leaving all the suitors, all of the emotions, that had kept me away for two months behind, and faced my community once again. True, it was an odd thing seeing these people after having travelled halfway around the world, but there I was.

However, I returned with more experience, more maturity. On the 14th, I had an interview on Skype with one of the Global Ambassador coordinators at ISA, the company who I went over to England with. By the end of that 20 minute conversation, I was one of those very Global Ambassadors working as an intern for ISA! This is a job that I am looking forward to, and one which I know I will love doing.

So then, the proper return to Ithaca will take place on Saturday. To all of my Rockhurst readership, I look forward to seeing you guys soon! The packing has begun, and the great migration up Rockhill Road shall soon commence!

Goodbye!

Image

Kansas City – Well, the time at last has come. I spent the last night of my stay in the Alexander Fleming Halls of Residence in Hoxton up reading, and doing some minor research on local history. My thought was that it would help me to sleep on the plane if I didn’t sleep at all the night prior to. Hitherto, my abilities of sleeping whilst flying have been almost non-existent, but I thought I’d give this most extreme tactic a try.

ImageAt about 4.32 BST, I noticed some light creeping into my West facing window. Looking out, I beheld the last British sunrise that I’ll see for a while. It was a nice, soft sunrise, quite different from those out in the Midwest. At 5.00, I went out and walked about the neighbourhood, hoping to find a café that might be open where I could get a cup of tea to help cure my allergies, and possibly inhibit the oncoming cold. Sadly, all the local cafés were closed, as it was Saturday. Even Starbuck’s hadn’t yet opened. So, it was back upstairs to my room to sort out the last minute packing that I might have missed the day prior. Thankfully, there was nothing to have missed, so it was onto another hour and a half of waiting until anything would be open.

I spent that period of time sitting on the benches outside the hall, bidding farewell to my friends as they went on their ways in ones and twos. At 7.30 BST, I too left Fleming with a pair of friends, Cara and

Image

Mike, and headed for Old Street tube, to catch a train to King’s Cross St Pancras and then onto Heathrow.

As noted in my last post, the hardest thing I have had to do in the past few weeks was to say goodbye to all these friends that made up what we’ve called the Old Street Gang. It really did seem like we were all together for a good year, when in fact it was a mere three weeks.

 

Luckily, I ran into two Old Street-ers, Kendall and Allison, in the entrance to security at Heathrow. We later ran into another member of the Gang, Kelsea, in the duty free area just past security. The four of us spent our last moments together in London, attempting to avoid thinking about the inevitable, but at the same time unable to avoid the reality that we faced. I was the first to leave, as my 12.30 flight to Minneapolis was due to begin boarding at 11.35.

I walked down the path to the plane, looking out the windows, capturing the sights for the last time for now. Mentally preparing myself for my return to the US, and future return to the UK, I boarded the

Image

plane, and took my aisle seat. The flight back was mostly uneventful. I slept a good deal of the way, with the aid of a couple films like The Hobbit and Life of Pi, the audio of which helped put me to sleep. I was surprised at Delta’s hospitality, considering that they had 3 meals for us. Still, I’m switching to British Airways/American Airlines after this trip.

After a good 8 and a half hours in the air, we passed over the UP and began to descend into Minneapolis-St Paul International Airport. The process of going through Customs wasn’t as bad as I’d thought it could be. The biggest difference between the British and American Customs agencies is that HM Customs wasn’t understaffed. There were only 4 open desks at MSP, processing hundreds of people. After heading through Customs, I had my first experience of culture shock, when I went on the wrong moving walkway in the airport, realising that things in the States are on the right, not left. It just so happened that I was on the phone with my parents at this point, informing them of my arrival back in the Americas.

After a good three and a half hours sitting about in Minnesota, I boarded my flight to Kansas City. It was a short 58 minute flight between the homes of the Twins and Royals, but at long last we landed in Kansas City. It was great seeing my parents again, I missed them very much. It was just as good to see my dog, Noel, once more when we returned home.

I’ll really miss London, and all my friends. Since we’ve returned to our homes in the States, the group has been staying in touch, writing fervently about a reunion of sorts at some point in the near future. When and where that’ll be, we shall have to see.

Now, I may have started this blog as a way to record my study abroad experiences in London, but I intentionally named it so as to allow for it to continue after my return home. There’ll be more blog posts coming in the future, about such topics as my film work, return to Rockhurst, and other upcoming travels. For now, and to all of you who have been reading since I started this blog about a month ago, go raibh míle mhaith agaibh, thanks so much for reading and following my adventures. Until next time, tá!Image

Commonwealth, Circles, and Cake

Image

Alarm clocks gone wild.

Shoreditch, London – The first two business days of Week Three have been quite adventurous. It all began with a bucket, a workman, and a lightbulb. I had been dreaming about driving down K-7 just north of Leavenworth when there was a great clamour outside my room. Realising it was rather too light outside considering that my alarm was set for 8.20, I grabbed my watch from the nightstand where it sleeps to discover with my immense horror that it was in fact 11.45! Jumping out of bed (with kangaroo agility), I headed for my desk, finding my phone/alarm clock in its daytime home of a trouser pocket. Then, I ran out of my room, and after a quick wash up and dressing, rushed out the door to the tube station.

Despite my hurry, the journey was one of bemusement and horror. After transferring to the Piccadilly Line at King’s Cross (class was meeting at the Victoria & Albert), I was joined by a couple from Philadelphia who had just gotten off the train from Paris. The husband kept making a basic American tourist mistake, asking “How do I get to Lie-chester Square?” After 5 Londoners corrected his butchering of “Leicester” I gave it a shot, saying the name of the centre of the West End in my best Chicagoan accent. His response was not, “O, thanks!” but “You’re American!” “Yeah, I’m from Chicago.” I replied. “Ya know, as in the 2010 Stanley Cup Champions? Game 6, Overtime Patrick Kane goal in Philly?” -Luckily he and his wife got off at Leicester Square and didn’t have the time to respond, but the Londoners were rather bemused.

Then there were the Italians. A whole family of them. As the doors began to shut at Leicester Square, a late 20s Italian lady ran onto the train, getting stuck in the door. It opened, and she boarded, only to whirl about and let out a horrid scream, as her two sons were still standing on the platform. Her sister, who had boarded at the centre of the carriage (I prefer to stand at the ends by the open window) jumped off and hurriedly threw, yes threw, the two boys onto the train. They had to be about 8 and 6. They stayed on after I got off at South Kensington.

The run from the Tube station to the Natural History Museum, where my professor had said they would be was quite breathtaking, and bothering to my then still sore ankle. As I walked into the museum, I got a text from the good professor saying they were in the Science Museum. So, around the corner and into their third museum of the day, my first. Luckily I made it to class at 12.40, so I got to hear 20 minutes of his lecture. I at least got to see the world’s first steam engines and computer.

Asking what I could do to make up my tardiness, I was advised to go to the V&A and stroll about the galleries. So, that I did. I love the exquisite arts of South Asia and the Islamic World! On top of that, there were also some amazing Medieval European galleries, which I’d recommend to any historian interested in that period. However, I had to leave the V&A, as I had a much anticipated meeting and tour planned for the afternoon.Image

After another 30 minutes on the tube, I was at my meeting place, Caffè Nero at Westminster Tube Station. They have amazing blueberry muffins! That was my breakfast, at 14.00 BST. I met with my friend Abby to go and tour Westminster Abbey officially, as we had attended the organ recital there the evening prior. The Abbey was originally founded by St Edward the Confessor, the penultimate crowned Anglo-Saxon King of England (d. 1066). The Abbey has been the place of coronation since Harold Godwinson in 1066, and most recently hosted a coronation in 1953.

After the Abbey there was an hour and a half break before heading to Leicester Square for dinner before a group of friends headed to see Daniel Radcliffe in The Cripple of Inishman. After a brief problem of finding people, the group made it to the theatre, and I headed off down Charing Cross Road to my evening’s entertainment: Canada Day!

Image

I was quite happy to find that there were very few Canucks sweaters in the crowd, mostly Maple Leafs, and a few Senators, Flames, and Oilers, though not many Canadiens oddly

enough. The day marks the Canadian Confederation, in which the three colonies of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, and the Province of Canada united into a single country. The party was held in Trafalgar Square, which sits in front of Canada House, home to the Canadian High Commission. Sadly though, the main reason why I went, the street hockey, had already concluded, and was replaced by a big rock concert, which was not to my taste. Though I did donate 20p to the Calgary flood relief efforts, which got me the little Canadian flag you see in the photo with Lord Nelson.

So, I headed back up Charing Cross Road, going to a pair of places that I had seen on the

Image

way down. First was a local branch of Pâtisserie Valérie, for a sumptous double Belgian chocloate gateau, as a little treat for making it to at least 20 minutes of class that day, and then onto a local bookshop to browse their Classics collection. They didn’t have much of what I was looking for, mostly Lucreitus and Ovid, so I ended up getting the Oxford History of England volume on Roman

 

 Britain (1982 edition) for £6. Then I headed back home to do some reading and work on amending my paper. With that done, and a bit of listening to Radio 4, I retired once again to that springy azure mattress that I’m calling a bed.

Morning came with a start. Having A More Human Mikado never did in Japan exist! stuck in my head, I made my way to class at the National Portrait Gallery on Charing Cross Road with some annoyance at myself for not being able to do the same the day prior. However, I must say this day’s touring was enjoyable nonetheless. In the middle of class, we were given an hour break to look through the remainder of the gallery (having gone through the Tudors to

Image

the Georgians) and get some lunch at one of the local cafés. Rather than take a whole 2 hours and dine at the National Café, a friend and I settled on the National Gallery Café next

door, where I had a good selection of banana nut cake, chocolate, and other pastries and desserts. There wasn’t much in terms of food, per se.

We then returned to the touring, meeting back up with our class in the National Gallery, which prior to today I had thought was in fact that National Portrait Gallery. Anyhoo, we finished by observing a few Hogarths, and then splitting ways, I heading back to the University of Westminster at New Cavendish Street. There I met up with a friend, Ke’aria, who was planning on going to the Freud Museum in the Finchley Road area in North London. We made our way up there, by way of a couple stops, only to find the museum is closed Monday and Tuesday. But no matter, we had a quick stop by the Abbey Road Studios to pay homage to the place where Howard Shore recorded the music for The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit. O, and the Beatles did some stuff there too.

The evening was spent in two main places: Regent Street, and at the London Eye. We dined first at a rather unique restaurant just off Regent Street called Tidbits. I wasn’t a very big fan of the menu, which was vegetarian. My vegetarianism doesn’t really extend beyond a love of beef, lamb, fish, pork, chicken, squid, shrimp, and all forms of water fowl humour. I ended up eating a fine dinner of onion rings and chips with a couple plastic cups of tap water and a little thing of vanilla ice cream.

This was surpassed in greatness by what was to come. We made our way to the South Bank, where the visionaries of London gather to look through a big wheel at Westminster and attempt to figure out what the government is doing. The London Eye is a large circular viewing platform. Our group of 10 took flight for a good half hour over the Thames, taking many fantastic photos of the sights below and about us. Unfortunately, my camera died soon after taking off, so I don’t have any of my own photos, only one that I borrowed from a friend.

Image

From left to right. Back row: Brooke, Chris, Caroline, Seán, Cara, and Allison.
Front row: Kendall, Abby, Allie, and Kelly.

The evening was certainly sky-high. If you are ever in London, do take the chance to go up into the Eye. It’s well worth the £16.50 fee.

Learning in London – A Living, Urban Classroom

Image

St Paul’s reflected by the face of One New Change.

Shoreditch, London – If I ever wanted to study history, there are few cities in the world that are greater places to do so than here. Not only is my class studying the history of London in London, but we’re doing it by going around and actually seeing the history and how the present is presenting and re-presenting it through museums, galleries, plaques, and monuments. So far, this is the best way I’ve found to learn the history of a place, because it cuts out the Prof. Binns effect to use a Harry Potter reference, in that the class can just be a boring list of names, dates, and battles. Not that I’ve actually had such a class thus far in my academic career, of course. However, the class I’m in right now is by far at the extreme opposite end of the spectrum from such a Binns class. After all, how many history classes have you taken where your classroom for the day is the British Museum, or where your main project is to find something in the history of London that could be better represented or needs to be told in the first place.

Image

“…how many history classes have you taken where your classroom for the day is the British Museum…”

My paper and presentation is going to be on how the linguistic history of London could be better represented in the Museum of London. In particular, I’m going to be looking at how the languages and cultures of the past, whether Celtic, Roman, Saxon, Norman, Medieval, Tudor, or the more recent generations, impacted the landscape and life of London today. You can see the impact greatly in toponymy. For example, in London one can find a tremendous amount of Anglo-Saxon street and borough names, such as Aldgate, Cheapside, and Smithfield.

My first full day of class was at the British Museum. We spent the day wandering through it, first looking at how the museum told the story of humanity, and then in particular how it told the story of Britain. There were somethings in the museum that I found really interesting and exciting, particularly in the British sections, such as the Barnack Burial, which is a skeleton of a man who died between 2330 BC and 2310 BC. (Source: British Museum). The crazy thing about it is that when I thought about it, I realised that because he was a pre-Roman Briton (the ancestors more so of the modern Welsh than English), this skeleton is probably one of my ancestors. That realisation made the experience more personal, and much cooler for me.

Image

“…this skeleton is probably one of my ancestors.”

One area that I am most interested in, as can be seen by my mention of the aforementioned skeletal man, is in the peoples who came before the great civilisations and empires of Antiquity. Two such peoples are the Etruscans of Italy and the Minoans of Crete. The British Museum has a collection of Etruscan artefacts, which were a delight to see, as I don’t get to see much save Rome in Kansas City. Among them was a wall painting showing your normal Etruscans from the height of their civilisation. A lot of these ancient things are so eerie because I think about how when they were first made, that culture was probably not unlike our own in that it seemed stable, and ready to continue on into the future. But, they are no longer around, just as one day we will most probably not be around as well.

Image

“…that culture was probably not unlike our own…”

Another interesting thing that caught my eye was the Assyrian collection. Being a lover of Gilgamesh, I had to take a look at this section of the museum, which was as it should be: astounding. Again in the artefacts that we leave behind, the future can learn more about lost civilisations and cultures. So too, in things such as a wall carving of an Assyrian king wrestling and stabbing a lion, we are shown a particular image of their society, and the power of their kings, that could or could not be unlike our own. I had a good laugh later in the day when at the National Portrait Gallery, I came across a Reubens depiction of a Lion Hunt.

Image

An Assyrian King stabs a lion whilst throttling it.

Image

Peter Paul Rubens, A Lion Hunt, about 1614-15.

The thing to keep in mind is that despite the passage of time, the changing of language and culture from one to another, we always remain human. Just as a king in the 16th Century BC may have a fascination with hunting lions, to show his own power and prowess, so too a 17th Century painter would use that same image to depict the greatness of his subject. After all, what is the symbol of English Football than the 3 Lions of England? This is one of the great things about history that I love so much, that we learn so much about ourselves and our culture when we study others. In London, one can see this more so than perhaps in other cities. Here in the courtyard of the London Guildhall, one can see architecture from every period in the City’s 2000 year history from the Roman amphitheatre under one’s feet to the late 20th century buildings on of the Guildhall’s West Wing. This is truly a great place to study history, one of, if not the greatest there is. I am looking forward to next week’s class, as we continue on our walks through London, learning about the past, and how the present depicts it, while keeping a watchful eye on how the future may depict us when we too become the past.

Travelling about London

Shoreditch, London – The first day of class has come and gone. It was rather a fun and exciting day, both at university and out and about in town. If I hadn’t been too sure of my knowledge and understanding of the Underground before this morning, I certainly am as I write this at 20.00 in the evening.

London Underground symbol

“Once one gets the system down, travelling in London is not to bad at all compared to other big cities.”

Once one gets the system down, travelling in London is not to bad at all compared to other big cities. After class got out today I decided to head over to Apsley House, the home of le vainqueur de Waterloo, the 1st Duke of Wellington. To get there from my home station, I had to make one transfer between trains, which wasn’t too terribly bad. The problem came in the fact that I left the dorm at 15.30 and Apsley House was scheduled to close at 17.00, so considering that rush hour was just beginning to wake from its meridical slumber, I knew that I needed to get there a bit faster than normally I would have. So, by walking down escalators on the left (rather than standing on the right as is custom here), and standing on trains near the doors, being the first one to jump off when said portals opened at my transfer and destination (Hyde Park Gate), I was able to make it to Apsley House at 16.20, a good 40 minutes prior to closing time. Unfortunately however, I entered the courtyard and found the sign that read “CLOSED” standing on the steps leading to the front door.

Apsley House, courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons.

Apsley House

In my annoyance I decided to walk around for a bit, after all I was in Knightsbridge, which is one of the nicest neighbourhoods in London. As I walked along I chanced to see a few things I probably wouldn’t have seen had I just gone back to the Hyde Park tube and returned home. Among these were the Libyan and Kuwaiti embassies, the latter of which had a rather large flag in front of it. I would have stopped by to see if I could pick up a couple Kuwaiti dinar, which last I looked was the highest valued currency globally at present. But because of the obviously heavily armed guards in front of the embassy (one was standing talking to the other who was driving a G-Wiz [cute, I know]) I chose to pass onwards and get back onto the tube at Knightsbridge. Now here’s the kicker, where no doubt my Mom will be saying, “Seán, you shouldn’t have…”: I didn’t actually know which tube line ran through Knightsbridge station, I just knew it was a tube station and that I could get home somehow someway. As a matter of fact I didn’t even know which lines went through there until I got onto the platform level (I intentionally left my tube map in my pocket), just as a bit of an adventure. Needless to say, I got onto the only line there, the Piccadilly line, and took that back towards the university, figuring that I might run into some friends if I did that. Though I didn’t run into any other ISA students, I did get an opportunity to try and blend in with the business-folk going home from a day’s work in the City (the CBD). It worked rather well, except for two businessmen who were giving me funny looks because my suit wasn’t black like all the rest of the businesspeople on the train, which granted I’m not a businessman, I’m a historian in training and a filmmaker, so I can wear some colours other than black, blue, and white (all of which I was wearing in one way or another, mind you.)

The G-Wiz (Reva-i outside of the UK)

“(one was standing talking to the other who was driving a G-Wiz [cute, I know])”

I got off at my home station at about 18.00 and made my way over to our local Argos (a UK electronics store). At first the place threw me for a loop. When I walked in all I saw was a big empty space in a small shop. I soon realised that I had to go over to the far left and look in their catalog, write down the number of the item I wanted to buy (a desk fan as there’s no air circulation in my room & no AC either), then take my little slip of paper to the counter and have the clerk type it into the system and take my money. Then I went and waited by a counter on the far right side of the shop, and not unlike Portillo’s, for all you Chicagolanders out there, I waited for my number to be called. After getting the fan, I went home, set it up, and enjoyed a nice cool breeze in the room.

However, I would have to say the two most amusing sights I have seen since coming to London were both involving transport. On the tube last night on the way back from Westminster a health & safety sign on one train had been graffitied so it read, “OBSTRUCTING THE DOORS CAN BE DANGEROUS”. The second was on the way to the university this morning we came upon a G-Wiz that was parallel parked on the side of a street but perpendicular to the rest of the cars, as in it was backed into the spot in question. This is why small cars are the best!

So, to the point of this article (seeing as I titled it “Travelling about London”), what is the best way to get about Central London? In my opinion, if you want cheap and fast, take the tube. Sure, you don’t get to see sights on the way (as you’re below ground), but you do get a good opportunity to blend in with the locals & will reach your destination quicker than if on a bus or in a cab. In regards to buses, they still confound me tremendously. I’m avoiding them for now. As for cabs, the licensed ones are good, but pricey for just one person. So, I’m probably taking the tube home from the opera or theatre for example. Of course, if you’re just staying in one part of town, walking’s a fine way to get about, after all it’s what the locals do. But, on no condition, as I have heard time and again, and seen from afar, never attempt to drive in London if you’re not a local. If you think Chicago traffic’s a pain try coming here at rush hour. Let’s just say the British don’t have the concept of jaywalking, so if there’s a wide enough gap in traffic people just cross the street. O, and also just don’t make eye contact and don’t apologise for going past people on the pavement (sidewalk) or in the tube’s escalators and pedestrian tunnels in stations, just keep moving forward. And for no reason at all stop and look at your map in the open, just keep moving and find a café or sign.

So, with that, I’m signing off for the night. Tá.

Settling down in London

Shoreditch, London – After 6 and a half hours in the air (8 and a half hours on the plane thanks to a great JFK traffic jam), I at long last made it to London-Heathrow yesterday morning (15 June) at 8.00. The flight was quite interesting, and didn’t have much trouble after we got off the ground. About two hours into the flight, for whatever reason I had the urge to lift the window shade just a bit. This “sudden urge” turned out to be quite rewarding, as I got an exquisite photo of the sun just beginning to rise over eastern Greenland.

Sunrise over Greenland, 15 Meith/Jun/Juin 2013 at 3.00 UTC.

“This “sudden urge” turned out to be quite rewarding…”

The Irish coast in Co Wexford from the air

The Irish coast in Co Wexford from the air.

The Welsh coast near St David's from the air.

The Welsh coast near St David’s from the air.

A couple hours later we began to fly over an tír na mo aithreacha (the land of my fathers), Éire (Ireland). We flew in a straight line from about Ennis to Wexford, and then crossed the Irish Sea to another country of which I have heritage, Cymru (Wales). Over Wales, we flew from about St David’s in the west to the mouth of the Severn in the East.

I landed in London, as aforementioned, at 8.00 in the morning and made it through customs by about 9.00. There at Heathrow’s arrivals meeting place, I met up with the ISA London office, and ended up staying there in the arrivals area until 12.00 Noon when we as a group at long last left for our housing. It took us a good hour to drive across London to our building. My room is quite nice actually. It’s a bit on the small side, but is quite comfortable and cozy. The one complaint that I have at present is the lack of air movement, which will soon be redeemed by a fan, which hopefully I’ll be buying at Argos soon. My room is one of six that are grouped together in a flat, which is on the first floor (ground floor in US English) of the building. There are three other people living here with me, two of which are with ISA, and the third with another programme. We share a kitchen, and the third person and I share a toilet (bathroom).

Dorm Room at University of Westminster

“…but is quite comfortable and cozy.”

As I was originally typing this into WordPress last night at about 20.00, I began to feel a bit drowsy. However I was determined to continue with my typing and complete the article before bed. But alas, my computer, being the wise soul that she is (she as in how ships are called she or her) decided to go to sleep as well and stop working properly. So, I too retired for the night. I first woke up around 22.00, thinking that it was the next day already, forgetting in my exhaustion that the Sun stays out here until about 22.30 during the Summer months.

I woke up the next morning at my 7.30 alarm quite refreshed and free from the shackles of sleepiness. After showering (they use two handles, one for hot and one for cold water, thus it was hard to figure out the balance) and eating a light breakfast of a NutriGrain bar, I made my way up to my new parish church, St Monica’s in Hoxton. The Parish is an Augustinian one, and their Mass was quite nice. They had a few songs, without the need of a cantor, and chanted all of the prayers. There were a couple differences, like the priest asking God to “pencil out our sins” rather than forgive them, one which I found quite charming, but otherwise it was much the same as most of the Masses that I’ve attended back in the States or in Ireland. However, I had to leave early and miss the talk on the parish fundraiser as I was due back at the hall of residence for the group meeting for orientation.

For orientation we took the tube to Oxford Circus, which is the closest stop to the University of Westminster’s Regent Street Campus. However, just about 3 blocks south and 1 block west of the University was our true destination for that moment, the ISA London offices on Great Portland Street. The ISA staff have been truly welcoming of all of us on this trip, and one gent from the office, Tom, even took a good hour out of his day yesterday to help a fellow student, Jon from the great state of Wisconsin, (home to Michael Feldman (of NPR fame) and one of my favourite burger places, Culver’s) and I in getting UK mobile phones. We were able to find very cheap phones at the Phone Warehouse for £4.95 for the phone and £10.00 for the plan with O2.

After orientation, Jon and I took a bit of an adventure and made our way down Oxford Street. I told him about a store where he could probably be able to get a much needed electrical adaptor, and we headed in what I thought was the right direction. Turned out I was a bit off in my geography, and we ended up going the wrong way by a couple blocks. So, after turning around and heading back west, we eventually found the store I was telling him about, Selfridge’s. Now, I wouldn’t have even heard of the retail giant had it not been for PBS broadcasting the ITV minseries about Selfridge’s founder, Harry Gordon Selfridge, on the Masterpiece series. We made our way into the store, and soon found ourselves in electronics, where Jon got his adaptor, and I met a very friendly and interesting clerk, who just so happens to be planning a North American vacation, which includes a drive from DC to Toronto. I wished him luck, and we continued onwards and upwards (literally in that sense as the electronics department is in the cellar) to the foodhall, which is on the ground floor. We ate at this nice sort of cafeteria style eatery, simply named Eat, where we both got the store’s signature beef sandwich, which was basically roast beef on bread of your choice, with whatever sort of mustard you wanted on top. Now, I’m not a mustard lover, and when ordering I thought by asking me if I wanted, “American, English, or French” they were talking about cheese. So, thinking English meant a nice cheddar, I spoke thus, and to my horror found mustard squirted onto my nice beef sandwich. I ended up eating the beef that didn’t have the mustard on it, and only the bottom slice of bread, as it also was naked in a sense.

We returned to the ISA office by way of it’s neighbour, the BBC Broadcasting House, and sat around until a tour bus came for the group. We took a nice tour of the major sites of London: Buckingham Palace, Westminster, and the City, and returned to our building forthwith afterwards.

I must say one of the most interesting parts of my day has been what has just happened prior to me sitting down to write this, grocery shopping in the UK. It’s just that bit different from shopping in Kansas City that I just had to mention it. See, I was surprised at just how little meat there was for sale on the shelves. Now of course, this was a smaller local grocer (a branch of Sainsbury’s to be exact), and so they wouldn’t have quite as much as a larger place, but it did surprise me. I ended up spending about £13 on food for the next couple of days, buying bread and preservatives for sandwiches, some pasta and a tomato basil sauce for dinner sometime (keeping with the Pasta & Prayer tradition), and other stuff as well.

So far this has been quite the exciting and interesting beginning to my time in London, and it certainly makes me look forward with anticipation at what is to come. So, for now, tá.