Settling In

Internet in my room, on my own computer with nothing blown up--a triumph. However, it has been thoroughly concluded that my laptop's power cord is completely worthless; it does not work at all anymore. When I plugged it in it must not have converted the voltage and therefore shorted out. I must get a new one. In the meantime, Mr. Martin has a Dell laptop and a spare Dell power cord, so I am all set.

But I am sure that no one besides me cares about my computer problems. What you all care about is pictures. There are a couple pictures of my room, a picture of the house, and of the street.

After I got my Oyster card on Thursday, I went exploring on my own. With no definite plan, I hopped on the tube for Westminster. As I got off the tube, there were three different exits to the station--I took the one marked "Houses of Parliament". The exit brought me out literally from under the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben--I was just sort of walking out onto the street, looking around to get my bearings, and saw them towering over me. I hadn't expected that; gave me quite a start.

I walked away from Parliament along Westminster Bridge to get the requisite touristy photos. That was probably the first time I really comprehended that I was in London. On the south bank, across the Thames from Parliament, I followed the river walk to the next bridge. Along the way I stopped and sat on a park bench to enjoy being on the Thames, and Big Ben chimed while I rested. It was just stunning.

I roamed Westminster for a while, making a rambling circle back to Parliament, passing Westminster Abbey on the way. I did not go into the Abbey, though--I want my visit to Westminster Abbey to be pre-meditated, and I want to be able to spend at least an hour or so in Poets' Corner, and the Abbey was almost closing by the time I reached it. My pilgrimage there will probably be next week sometime.

Walking around London--even in the winter--is enchanting. I feel like I will never get tired of it. It's all so beautiful, and so rich in history. Just while walking around I came across the church Charles Dickens got married in, and I found out today that the hotel where Oscar Wilde was arrested is within walking distance from my classes. Kensington Palace is only a 15 minute walk from CAPA. It's just wild.

But Thursday and Friday morning I did feel quite lonely and a little isolated, because I really hadn't seen any of the other students. I was really looking forward to my orientations on Friday, and I was beginning to doubt whether a homestay had been the best choice.

My internship orientation was full of useful information, and I was told that my internship interview would be next Wednesday at 9:00AM. The director of the program also told me that if the interview goes well, my site already has a whole itinerary for the rest of the day, which I find somewhat disconcerting. There are two other CAPA students who will be interning at Hornsey School with me; they're both guys, which must be somewhat awkward for them. The London orientation was also helpful, but not because I got much new information; it was just comforting to know that I had some formal guidance if I needed it. Also, I met up with Alan there, whom I know vaguely from Pitt and will (I think) get to know pretty well here. It was refreshing to talk to someone from Pitt.

From what Alan and his girlfriend Rachel told me, choosing a homestay was in fact a good decision on my part. Apparently their flatmates had all been very drunk several times already, and had wasted no time in fully stocking the flats with alcohol. Friday night CAPA reserved a pub for us (there are about 150 CAPA students) for a welcome reception. They provided food, but drinks were on us if we wanted them. Alan, Rachel and I abstained and watched our classmates embody every negative American stereotype. They were excessively loud, obnoxious, and their single-minded determination to get as drunk as they could disgusted me. I suppose I am probably being really harsh, but it was the first time I'd ever truly felt embarrassed to be an American. There was just no restraint. This kind of attitude makes less sense to me here than it does at home, because I don't understand who would spend the money to study in London only to come here and spend even more money on getting plastered, which one can easily do at home for cheap (if not for free at a campus party somewhere). But it is only the first weekend; people will probably calm down a bit. And I'll probably join them in a pint at least once before leaving.

CAPA had a bus tour of the city today, which I found quite helpful. At one point while we were off the bus, looking at the Tower of London, our tour guide scolded me for looking too serious. I suppose it's a bad sign if even the Brits think I am too serious.

It's been over a month since I did any academic work; I feel like I'm going through withdrawal. I can't wait for class on Monday.

Someone wanted more info on my host family. Here's what I've got:

Mrs. Martin: Will be 60 years old in April; mother of three boys and two Irish setters. I don't know the oldest son's name. Mrs. Martin used to work as a graphic designer and likes to paint. I think she does art classes occasionally. Although she does not work outside the home, she seems to always be quite busy. She is very kind and strongly maternal, particularly with her youngest son Adam. Loves tea and offering tea; promised to make sure they always have peanut butter around for me to have on my toast. Her dinners are quite good, though there are too many tomatoes for my taste. She's hosted a plethora of exchange students, American, Spanish, Japanese, and Italian (and perhaps others I haven't heard about).

Mr. Martin: An engineer. I've only just met him this evening, but he was very helpful with getting my computer sorted out. Haven't really talked with him much about anything else.

Adam: The youngest boy, recently turned 18 and is finishing up the sixth form (last year of high school). He plays and sings in a band with three of his best friends (I know this from his mother, not from him). He is not very conversational, but he is friendly and does respond when you talk to him. He showed me where the peanut butter was on my first morning here and apologized for it not being the "creamy stuff you Americans like so much." Apparently he is not too keen on going right to university next year, but has no real plan. He goes to a private school and has a girlfriend, who I've not met.

Dan: The middle son, who I met just briefly this evening. He lives on his own but somewhere nearby, and I get the impression he is around a lot.

Maria: A 16 year old Spanish student from Seville. She is quite friendly, and I get the feeling that if I knew Spanish she would be quite talkative, but her trouble with English makes her shy. Actually I don't think she has much trouble with it; she falters a bit, but her grammar's pretty good. She likes London all right, but she thinks the weather is terrible and is also irritated that she can't go out to a club or for a drink here like she can in Spain (carding appalls her). I think she will be here until July and she has been here since the fall. Her birthday is next weekend.

Ella: The older of the two Irish setters. A real sweetheart of a dog--if I'm standing in the kitchen, she'll come stand next to me and put her head against my leg, waiting for me to pay attention to her. Well-behaved, mostly, though persistent at the dinner table.

Minxie: The younger Irish setter--Ella is her mother, though Minxie is all grown up. She's missing an eye from an accident she had as a puppy. Nonetheless she is a beautiful dog, a bit more hyperactive than her mother. Likes to greet me by jumping on me (and she's about as tall as I am when she gets on two legs).

More next week.