Kate in Lancaster

Time To Say Goodbye

2008-06-04T05:22:00.000-07:00

It's been a while. I do apologize for that. But really, the way the English higher education system works has made for a very dull couple of months. Nothing much to blog about as all we've been doing is studying for exams,pretending to study for exams, taking exams, and then sleeping for days after the exams to catch up. However, I am happy to report that my exams are DONE and I have now finished my second to last year of college. This also means that my year in England is quickly coming to an end. Exactly six days more and then it's back to Berkeley for a much anticipated summer of sun, food that is not pub grub, and seeing how many people I can fake into thinking I'm English ;-).

Before I can leave, however, there is one last major event. The play. That's right, the Lancaster University theater group's production of Oscar Wilde's "An Ideal Husband" goes up this very weekend. We've all worked very hard on it (especially myself and the other American girl in it who have had to work dreadfully hard at adopting 19th century posh English accents and mannerisms. I guess that's why they call it acting) and I suspect it will be a very enjoyable show.

This I suppose brings me to some final thoughts on my time here in England. At first I was rather flummoxed by the somewhat lax academic requirements here at Lancaster. I had not, since perhaps 8th grade, had so much free time on my hands. UPS usually has me up to my ears in homework and working two jobs. And that's how I generally like to live my life; constantly doing something. Being at Lancaster forced me to slow down... way down. However, once I got over some of the crushing boredom I realized that this actually allowed for some freedoms I hadn't had in quite a while. I didn't think I'd ever get to be in a play again because they generally take up so much time. Here, however, I had copious amounts of free time to spare and was able to get back into the acting swing of things for a brief but much enjoyed time. I don't think I could live like this for much longer, but it's been a good experience for this year.

In general, England has been quite good to me. I've made some wonderful friends, tried beans on toast, and have learned to truly love a culture that some may say is very much like our own, but I find to be vastly different. Again, beans on toast. Enough said. So yes, over all a top notch year. Very much looking forward to returning to Berkeley and then Tacoma, but I wouldn't trade this time in Lancaster for anything. Hope to be seeing you all very soon and thanks for reading this little blog of mine.

All best,
Kate

P.S. Very sorry for the lack of pictures. The blog hos doesn't seem to want me to upload pictures at the moment.

Spring Travels

2008-04-20T09:33:00.000-07:00

As you are all most likely well aware, I spent the past month roaming around Europe and parts of Africa with my two friends Erin and Jen. To try and write a detailed blog about all that happened over that month would be impossible for me and my increasingly short attention span. What I've decided to do is a very brief paragraph on each location visited. If any of you have specific questions I am more than happy to answer them in detail via e-mail (khetland@ups.edu).

The Lake District, U.K.-

I'm going to have to go ahead and vote this my favorite part of the trip. Mom, brother, and sister-in-law joined me in my country of residence for a week long stay in a cottage in the insanely bucolic Lake District. We spent the week wandering lush green landscapes, cuddling lambs, goat kids, horses, and barn cats, eating copious amounts of pub grub and sticky toffee pudding (yum!), reading by the fire in our cottage and sipping tea and nibbling crumpets, and so on. It was a wonderfully relaxing and enjoyable week. I highly recommend it for everyone's next family vacation.

View from the hill above our cottage. Lovely.

Lamb cuddle! That and the goat kid were just about my favorite moments of the trip.

The female contingent on top of the fell.

Aix-en-Provence, France-

This is where I met up with Jen and Erin after leaving my family in England. While I only spent two days here, it was a very lovely two days. It was the first warmth and sun I'd felt in ages! It was exactly what I had imagined a city in Provence to look like. Colorful old buildings, great wine, bakeries at every turn. It was also the first time I'd been to a country in which I spoke none of the language. It was very frustrating, especially since (and this really should not have come as a shock to me) the French we're not very friendly. Alas. Oh, and my camera ate the pictures from France. Sorry.

Marrakech and Fez, Morocco-

From France we flew to Fez expecting to meet up with our first couchsurfing host. He was out of town. We grumbled a lot and freaked out a little before deciding to hop on a 7 hour train ride through 90 degree heat to get to Marrakech and a friend of Erin's. We hung around Marrakech for 4 days wandering the markets and surrounding mountains. Even got to ride some mules through the Atlas mountains. It was great fun. On day 5 we took another 7 hour train ride back to Fez and finally met up with our couchsurfer. He was nice enough, but dumped us at his families house where there were numerous uncles, cousins, etc. none of which spoke any of the languages that we three girls spoke. We felt very unwanted and I got sick so in the end we checked into a hotel for comfort reasons. Morocco and I didn't really get along that well, but I don't think I've ever met with friendlier people or better food.

The gates to the city of Marrakech. We took a horse and carriage ride around said walls. It was great fun.

Fruit stand. Mmm, dates!

Lantern stand in the souk (market).

Morocco was full of very skinny cats. Jen and Erin got a little annoyed with me because I just had to feed/pet all of them.

Surveying our kingdom.

A small village in the Atlas mountains.

Took a tour of a pottery factory outside of Fez. I pretty much wanted to buy it all. Someday. Someday.

Frankfurt, Germany-

Finally, a couchsurfer that worked out! Arrived at Simon's flat at 3am and he was very friendly and awake as he showed us to his huge attic room with skylights all around. He had mattresses and blankets all put out for us. Highlights included Simon taking us to his friends birthday party (such nice people. They made us a feast and danced the night away with us), touring the palm tree gardens, German thrift store shopping (just wait until you all see the spandex leggings I found!) and getting to eat all the foods I fell in love with in Munich 5 years ago. I love England, but I think Germany found my heart first and will remain as such throughout my life. I must say Frankfurt is not much of a tourist attraction but flights there are cheap so hey, why not? We also got to drive on the autobahn as the train to the airport was more expensive than renting a car.

Gummibears! A German tradition apparently. Yum!

Really wasn't a whole lot to take pictures of in Frankfurt. I did manage to get into a head-banging contest with one of Simon's friends though. He won. He head the heavy metal hair that I lack. It was German music at least.

The palm gardens in Frankfurt. Not sure what a tropical garden is doing in Germany, but it was lovely.

A traditional Frankfurt meal. We asked Simon what the green sauce was. He said "Uuhh, green stuff?". Whatever it was, it was tasty.

Prague, Czech Republic-

I had heard endless wonderful things about Prague and am happy to report that they were all true. The city is gorgeous! I never saw an unsightly thing the whole time I was there. I must confess that by the time I got to Prague I was so tired of traveling that I just sort of followed my friend Emily (who is studying there) around in a sort of travel coma. Went to some very cool museums and, as per usual, ate loads of tasty Czech food.

Not sure what this building is. In the case of Prague though, it doesn't really matter. The place is full to the brim of beautiful buildings just like that one, all with equally confusing names that are easily forgotten.

No trip to Prague is complete without sampling their specialty of fried cheese on a bun with tartar sauce. I think my facial expression pretty much sums it up.

Another travel essential? A trip to the local Ikea of course. Mom, Sally, Linnea I thought you'd enjoy that.

So there you have it. A super condensed version of my vacation. I do apologize for the shortness of it all. Finals are fast approaching and I have new play lines to learn. But, as I said, if you have any questions I'm happy to answer them. Also have loads more pictures so I'll try and make it around with slide shows to those who wish to see them when I return. All best, Kate

Macbeth

2008-03-11T18:08:00.000-07:00

It seems to soon for it to be over, but our production of Macbeth has indeed come and gone. It was fabulous, if I do say so myself. I was a bit skeptical of the modern twist and large amounts of blood at first, but in the end it all worked perfectly. We had many rave reviews, my favorite of which said "this is the best Shakespeare production I've seen in years outside of the RSC". Go us!

For those of you who are curious, I'm including a bit of said review below the pictures to give an idea of the look of the play.

Helping out the wounded sergeant.

Macbeth and Lady Macbeth dealing with their bloody business.

Macbeth and I having a chat about the terror of the night.

The Weird Sisters. Best part of the play in my opinion.

The porter. The only comic scene in the play. I was really glad I got to be in it until the director told him to drop his pants on stage.

Macbeth and Macduff's fight to the death.

Crowning the new king, Duncan, on the bloody stage.

****
The reveiw:

I've seen professional productions of Macbeth. Hell, I saw Owen Teal play Macbeth and I thought that was amazing. This is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays, and I've seen it countless times since I was 10 years old.

This one was amazing.

The set was simplistically beautiful - a white square, presented to three sides. The props were minimalist, the costume so simple - black white and grey. It felt like watching an old black and white TV show or classic film at first. It made the weird sisters, with their rags and corsetry and lace and colour stand out as something other worldly.

And then came the blood.

And oh God then came the blood.

It's been so long since I saw an audience on the edge of their seats collectively gasping in shock at the sight of blood on a stage. The white floor and mostly black costume made the red stand out right to the back of the hall. When Macduff's small child had it's brains bashed out on the floor, the whole auditorium gasped and winced, despite knowing it was a doll. It was the idea which got to their stomachs, including mine, which completely turned over in shock.

The cast didn't flinch from anything. It was a passionate, wonderful performance by all involved. I wish I'd picked up a programme so that I could praise them by name.

***

Cambridge mini-break

2008-02-29T06:35:00.000-08:00

Finally, I got to do a bit more travelling. I'd been in the same place for far too long (6 whole weeks! Don't you feel sorry for me ;-) ?) In any case, this past weekend myself, Justin, and Olivia headed on down to Cambridge to spend a long weekend with Olivia's friends from middle school. I have a severe case of city envy right now. Lancaster is lovely, but it's very small and gets a bit dull rather quickly. Cambridge, on the other hand, provided far more entertainment. I absolutely loved the university and found myself wishing I had the ambition to attend such a school. Alas, I don't, so I just took pictures instead.

Here we are punting on the Cam. Turns out I'm a bit of a natural at it. I only ran us into one bush!

The view of St. John's college from our boat on the canal. Wouldn't mind living there (with numerous house mates of course. Any takers?).

We came across a jazz concert in the square accompanied by a german sausage stand. Turned out the whole thing was a benefit for Scientology (eek!) so we got our sausages and ran.

My personal favorite moment of the weekend: the chocolate fountain! One of the girls we were visiting just happened to have one. The men of the household were a little afraid when all the women rushed into the dining room squeeling with excitment. Yum!

Now for a bit of Norwich. I skipped out for 24 hours to go and visit my friend Lizzy in the neighboring (sort of) city of Norwich. Even more city envy. They had flowers blooming everywhere!

A bathtub I fell in love with and will someday have to have.

Norwich had an odd sort of obsession with Grecian architecture in its parks. There was also a sort of mini Taj Mahal. Oh England. I did have a good time doing the "one Grecian urn" routine from The Music Man though.

And now for two random pictures having nothing to do with either Norwich or Cambridge. Here we have a sort of family photo (i.e. my main group of friends here in Lancaster) and the poster for Macbeth (to be performed next weekend).

Plans for our spring break world tour continue. Looks like we'll be staying with a fellow named Ilias and his family in Fez. Mud huts and donkey rides in the countryside included. I am so excited! Hoping you are all well and warmer than we are. Much love, Kate

The new news

2008-02-13T13:47:00.000-08:00

Hello all!

It's been a while. For me that is a good thing because it means I've been bust busy busy. It also means there's a lot of news and stories to share with interested parties. The most exciting of the news is that, now prepare yourselves, we've had 5 days of sunshine in a row! I cannot express how happy this has made everyone. Those lovely green fields that England is so famous for are now covered with lounging university students.

Here we have Justin, Olivia, me, Leo, and Faye attempting to study in the sunshine. No studying actually happened, but at least the papers and book bags are there to give the illusion.

Olivia and I enjoying the extra vitamin D (or is it E? I can never remember).

Rehersals for Macbeth have been keeping me rather busy. The cast are great fun and rehersals are generally much funnier than you'd expect a tragic Shakespeare play to be. The director has decided to go with what he calls a "Soviet/Medieval look" which seems to mean we'll all be wearing knee length boots and trench coats. I've never really liked quirky stagings of Shakespeare, but I'm just going to have to go with the flow. Should be interesting.

This is a picture from one of our first rehersals. Not really sure what I'm doing. I normally pay a bit more attention than that ;-)

In other news, I have just bought tickets for what may turn out to be the coolest spring break trip I could possibly have planned. About a week ago my friend Jen (from Berkeley, but she's studying near Marseille, France) gave me a call and we discovered we both had the same spring break dates. As she didn't have interenet she asked me to plan a trip for us. Using my crafty skills with Europe's various discount airlines I put the following together:

April 1-3 Marseille, France
April 3-10 Fez, Morocco
April 10-14 Frankfurt, Germany
April 14-18 Prague, Czech Republic

It's a bit random, but we're both really excited. Since we're both totally broke post buying tickets we will be couch-surfing in both Fez and Frankfurt. For those of you not familiar with this practice, there is an on-line forum where people from all over the world post available couches/beds for travelers in order to foster better understanding between cultures. Some friends of mine did it all through Russia and met some of the friendliest people ever. At first I found the idea a bit alarming but after reading lots of reviews and checking out a few of the prospective hosts it looks like a great time. One of the people who might host us in Fez lives with her family just outside the city walls in a series of mud houses. She advertises donkey rides in the mountains as one possible activity. Sounds good to me. It will also be really nice to get back to Germany and see if those language skills are still there.

So that's the news. Exciting stuff really. Hoping this finds you all well and safe. Oh, and happy Valentine's Day to all! Cheers, Kate

Further Exploration

2008-01-27T07:21:00.001-08:00

My apologies for not having posted much of late. It's taken me a while to get settled in, finish term papers, etc. etc. Now however, life seems to be back too a normal, if not slightly too busy, pace. The latest news is that your's truly has been cast in the Lancaster University production of Shakespeare's Macbeth. Yay! I'm playing a bunch of Scottish lords rolled into one lord who might actually be a lady. Got that? Me neither. The director seems to think the gender does not matter so I'm just going with it. Not too many lines, but as I told my mother, the less talking the random cross-dressing American in 15th century Scotland does, the better. I'm doing my best to fake an English accent though. It sounds vaguely Australian with a bit of German thown in, but at least it's something closer to Scottish.

In other news, this weekend a few of my friend Olivia's friends came to visit from Cambridge. This gave Olivia and I a chance to play tour guide in Lancaster, which was good fun. I finally got a chance to see our castle in daylight and must say that it is quite delightful. Below is a picture of the gang contemplating entrance into the castle. Oddly enough the front door is not used as a door, and they get very angry if you try to use it as one. Oops.

Here we have a picture of the front of a church next to the castle. Lovely Gothic (?) architecture and a very nice tree as well.

Next we come to the back of the church and its clock tower.

The statue of Katherine the Conqueror ;-). A part of the castle in the back as well. Note the metal bit with the barbed wire which is the section of the castle still used as a prison. I have to say that while I'd prefer not to be in prison, this one tops my list of prisons to be in.

View of Lancaster from the castle. Also doubles as the set of any old Dickens novel.

Post castle meal at Merchants pub. Built underground in 1688 it is by far my favorite pub in Lancaster (and there are a lot to choose from).

Inside the pub is a series of stone tunnels lined with cozy booths, kegs of ale, etc. The food was amazing! We all ate ourselves silly with such things as fish and chips, clam chowder, ceaser salad, vegetable crepes, veal pie, and so on. Yum!

That, and a brief stop at another pub for some chocolate cake, concluded our tour of Lancaster. However, should any of you wish to visit, I'm happy to give said tour many times over. Cheers, Kate

Back in England

2008-01-09T17:06:00.000-08:00

(No, I have not found any penguins here in Lancaster, but the weather is making me wonder if it might just happen. This is a picture of my friend Karolyn and I on my last night in Berkeley. Some foolish person still had their Christmas penguin display up.)

So begins another five to six months of life in England. It took a 10 hour flight (on Virgin Atlantic, which is just a fantastic way to travel), an hour of navigating the tube in London, and a four hour train ride but I'm finally back in my flat in Lancaster. I have been welcomed home by the worst weather I've seen yet. We're talking freezing temperatures, pelting rain and wind, hail... the works! I cannot believe I forgot to buy wellies while I was home in the land of cheap stuff (compared to the £). I have discovered that Uggs, while very stupid looking, manage to keep my little tootsies warm even when sopping wet. Hey, if sheep skin works for sheep in the rain, why not my feet, eh?

So far all I've managed to do is go grocery shopping. Today was my first full day back and I slept halfway through it. As I told my mother, this meant I was getting up at roughly the same time as all of my flat mates. They had gone out the night before and, as per usual, slept until noon. I'm really hoping the jet lag will be gone soon as I've got a rather large paper due on Wednesday that I have yet to actually start. I'm usually not a last minute kind of gal but my time at home was filled with so much fun that I just ignored all school work. Sigh. If anyone has any brilliant thoughts on what limitations faminist critiques of romance novels bring, do let me know. That's all for now I think. I'll try and update this blog as often as I can once said paper is out of the way. Wishing you all well, Kate

A Bit 'o Christmas Cheer

2007-12-03T07:25:00.000-08:00

With the wind raging, rain pelting, skies darkening, and temperatures dropping, we in flat #6 decided it was time to spread a little holiday cheer in our home. None of us feel like leaving the flat any more for fear of blowing away and, as a result, have had ample time to decorate.

Our kitchen Christmas tree.

The whole kitchen: lights, paper snow flakes, and tree.

My window candles.

Mulled wine has become a staple in our diets. It's warm, spiced, and oh so good. The university gave we international students a traditional English Christmas dinner the other night. Sadly I have no pictures, but I can list the menu for those interested parties.

They started us off with a kind of melon salad and rolls. Not quite sure if melons are really a winter fruit, but we'll go along with it. Next we had turkey, then sausage wrapped in bacon (why oh why?), two types of potatos, carrots and, you guessed it, not one single leafy green! Grrr. But it was a very good fat and carb centered meal. Dessert consisted of Christmas pudding which as near as I can telll is mashed up raisans and rum.... or something (they topped it off with cream sauce) and mini mince pies. I felt about 10 pounds heavier after that meal. Oh, and get this. Instead of playing the usual Christmas carols, we were treated to techno remixes of Christmas carols. I will never understand this techno craze. It makes no sense to me at all. Thankfully my freinds and I returned home, put on some Bing Crosby, made a salad, and all was well.

This may be my last blog for a while as I am coming home in less than two weeks time (YAY! A thousand times, YAY!). That is of course assuming I survive the train trip to Blackpool to catch a flight to Dublin to catch a flight to Chicago to catch a flight to S.F. Should be interesting. Happy Holidays everyone! Will be seeing most of you very soon. Love, Kate

Thanksgiving, England-style

2007-11-23T05:32:00.000-08:00

So, as many of you might have guessed, they don't do Thanksgiving here. But I wasn't about to let that stop me. Thus I took it upon myself to organize a feast for 14 people (both Americans and English). My english flat mates were very excited to experience this brand new holiday and were even happier to discover that it would allow them to put up Christmas decorations and sing carols even earlier than usual. And so, at the early hour of 9am yesterday morning I dragged myself out of bed and began the rather daunting task of cleaning and decorating our kitchen.

Finding a turkey proved harder than expected. My first thought, though not a very serious one, was to catch and kill the giant goose pictured below. I was then informed that one can get expelled from the school if any of the birds are killed. You can kill a person, go to prison, and come back to the University, but kill a bird, and your just out of luck. We then contemplated going to a farm down the road that had a sign saying we could kill our own turkey. None of us had the stomach for it though. Linsey, who had previously lived in Belgium, told us of their first Thanksgiving there in which they finallly found a turkey being sold by the local laundry place. In the end, we just baught a few turkey breasts from the store and called it a day.

Justin carving the turkey bits.

The spread, and the best cranberry sauce I've ever had (sorry mom).

Our numerous kinds of stuffing, thanks to Marks & Spencers (as Laura said, if she'd cooked them, we all would have died).

The gang in our "giving thanks" circle.

Happy Thanksgiving! Love, Kate

Edinburgh

2007-11-20T05:32:00.001-08:00

This past weekend myself, my friends Justin and Faye from Lancaster, and my freind Brittany who has been studying in London, all met up in Edinburgh, Scotland. I never thought I would say this, but I think I've found a city I like even more than London. Some of this partiality had to do with the wonderful hostel we stayed in. The picture of the beach below was taken just yards from ou hostel. The hostel itself was in an old manor house and was cleaner than my freshmen dorm at UPS. And, at £7 a night, I couldn't have asked for more.

Edinburgh afforded all sorts of great adventures. I quickly learned that, for whatever reason, the Scottish are much more friendly than the English. It's not that the Enlgish are unfriendly, but the Scottish were just very eager to talk and share stories. It was lovely. We were pretty near freezing the whole time we were there, so some tartan scarves had to be purchased and warm woolen hats as well. The city was just beginning to be decked out for Christmas, which made everything all that much more magical. Below are some pictures of our adventures.

Prince Street park. We had a good amount of happy frolicking in said park.

Tartan mill. Wanted to buy everything but could only afford a scarf.

A £6,000 (that's upwards of $12,000) bottle of scotch. Can't even imagine why anyone would buy it, but I was impressed all the same. We had a great time sampling somewhat cheaper scotch. I'm not really a fan but, when in Scotland!

I got quite a kick out of the contrast here. Modern bus in front of this wonderful Gothic tower. Good stuff.

Justin and I spotting our first deep fried Mars bar. It's apparently a big thing here, but I couldn't be bothered to try one. Also, note the brand new wool tartan scarves we're both sporting.

Architecture. I absolutely loved the buildings in Edinburgh. And the Chrsitmas "wrapping" made it all the more special.

I'm not sure why Brittany and I decided it would be a good idea to climb this rock in high heeled boots... but climb it we did. There was a lovely little monument at the top. Worth every bruise.

The food on this trip was highly entertaining. I finallly found good mexican food... in an Italian restaurant. Go figure. We ate most of our meals at a pub called The Tron which served £3 full English breakfasts and a burger and beer for £3.50. We did branch out and have tapas one night. Brittany and I ordered a creme brulee which, sadly (thus the picture) turned out to be flan. We were very unhappy, as we both have a mild obsession with creme brulee. Sigh.

And so it begins

2007-11-08T10:17:00.000-08:00

Let me preface this by saying that, scientifically speaking, I know nothing about weather patterns. That aside, I think winter is upon us here in Lancaster.We are very close to the ocean and on the highest ground around so somehow, and I'm not sure how, this means we get total crap for weather. Up until now things have been okay. A few showers here and there, but nothing major. A few days ago, however, all hell broke loose. Well, perhaps "froze over" is a better hell reference.

As I sit here in my cozy little room, listening to Christmas carols (I know I know... it's too early) with a spice candle burning, the world outside looks down right scary. Earlier, as I crossed the lawn with my hamper full of laundry, the whole thing was blown clear out of my arms across the lawn. We are experiencing gale force winds here. It scares the crap out of me. Not only are they strong, but they are cold as cold can be. My combination of sweaters, vests, and wool coats isn't even enough. And it's only November! I can't wait 'til we add rain and sleet to the fray. Should be good fun trudging 20 minutes to class in that!

On another winter related note, it now gets dark here at 4:30pm. My poor internal clock is not happy. Some of my lectures don't even start until 5, by which point my body thinks it's time to be eating a bowl of soup and going to bed. All this, however, is much better then any kind of hot weather, and I have to keep telling myself that. I don't like sunshine that much so really, this isn't that bad. Just bloody cold!

In an effort to offset the effects of winter weather I made a mexican feast for my friends last night. An easy enough task in America, but finding the ingradients here proved a bit more difficult. They have tortillas, but they're not really tortillas. I think it's actually pita bread that they label as tortillas and then mark the price up on. So I used corn chips instead. I was able to make tortilla soup and even some fresh guacamole. Boy was that guac good! I bought the spiciest salsa they had which, to my Californian taste buds tasted more like tomato paste than anything. The Brits, however, thought it was almost too spicy to eat. Go figure. All in all though, with the wine supplied by our resident Spaniard, the adequate mexican food, and the good company, we managed to forget about the hurricane raging outside. The moral of the story then, is that guacamole fixes everything!

A Walk in the Hills

2007-10-27T05:22:00.000-07:00

Faced with the choice of either doing my reading or taking a walk through the contryside I chose the latter (which produced the following pictures).

This is the very beginning of my walk. Once you get out of the ugly university buildings you are greeted by plenty of fields (like this one) most of which are used for rugby practice. It also just so happens to look like a scene from my favorite movie of all time, "Emma".

The path leading out onto the main road. I'm loving this whole fall concept. We don't really get much of it in California.

Hello sheep!

It's like something straight out of "All Creatures Great and Small". Very friendly cows as well. Not entirely sure I was supposed to be in their field though.

The break in the hedgerow that I took to be a path, of sorts.

The road home.

A house I wouldn't mind owning.

Colours. On leaves. What a concept!

In conclusion, England is very English looking. Who would have thought?

Mind the Ducks!

2007-10-26T08:36:00.000-07:00

Today is a miserably grey (British spelling intentional) day. About 90% of my friends have gone away for the weekend. Hence I did what any sane student at Lancaster would do... I went to visit the ducks. Yes, we have ducks. Just down the road a ways is an old stone farm house with a pond and a number of ducks, some chickens, and very large and very ill-tempered goose.

These were the first two to see me. I expected them to run away but, silly me, they thought I had food and were most happy to waddle on over.

Blue/green ducks. Who knew?

I sat down on the bank to commune with the ducks. Bad idea. They all seemed to think I had bread for them and conseqeuntly I was surrounded. Eek!

Duck butt. I think this one was mad at me... with good reason I suppose.

Here we have the line of ducks, chickens, etc. headed off up the road to where two very nice girls had brought them some food.

Which left me all alone with the goose (who decided he'd rather hiss at me than get fed). Stupid goose.

All in all it was a lovely little self-pity trip. My daily dose of advice to all of you is that, should you ever find yourself out of spirits, find a duck, and take pictures of it. It's great fun.

London Calling

2007-10-25T10:18:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I decided to ditch a few classes and head to London for a long weekend. I met my friend Lizzy there (who is studying in Norwich) and we had a grand old time. We stayed in a hostel right on the edge of Hyde Park and spent our days and nights wandering the streets of London.

Here I am looking really excited to be in my first ever red phone booth!

The outside of St. Paul's Cathedral

The inside of St. Paul's. I would not mind getting married in that. Not at all.

The view from the top of St. Paul's (post 200+ stairs climbed).

Frolicking in the trees outside the Tate Modern.

Home to the best brownie I have ever tasted. This place was filled wall to wall with nothing but chocolate in its many forms. Yum!

Me outside of Buckingham Palace. Nice place... not very cozy.

We sat in Hyde Park (my favorite of all the urban parks I've ever seen) for a good two hours. While there we got to watch this model boat race on the lake.

And finally, on a completely ditzy note, the haircut inspired by London (and it's ridiculously fashionable people).

So, to sum up... I am moving to London the first chance I get. It was beautiful, fantastic, exciting, inspiring, fairly clean, and just plain old jolly good fun. The hostel left something to be desired due to the guy from Spain throwing up on the guy from Italy's bed at 3am and waking the whole dorm up. Really, they were all nice people. I just hate being woken up for things like that. Bleck! I hope to get back down to the city very soon and encourage you all to do so as well.

P.S. They even have "mexican" food in London. It's bland, but it's there!

A Taste of Academia

2007-10-17T10:06:00.000-07:00

* The following is a piece of writing I did for a creative non-fiction class here at Lancaster U. It paints a nice picture, don't you think?

Why is He Wearing a Sequined Thong?

In general, I try to be an open minded and understanding sort of person. Unfortunately there are many things in life that I will just never be able to understand and consequently hate with a fiery passion. Beans on toast, leg warmers, beets, people who walk unbearably slow and insist on taking up the entire footpath whilst doing so… these things and many more I could happily do without. I had been hoping that as I got older the list of hated things would cease to grow with such rapidity. Sadly, my arrival here in England has added one, and possibly the worst, item to my list.
Dance clubs. Oh, how I loathe dance clubs. Whoever decided they were a good idea for socializing ought to be dragged out into the street and trampled by a hoard of sweaty young adults in varying degrees of half-nakedness. Or should I say clubbing clothes? I’ve never really understood the difference. In any event, I suppose I ought to give a bit of background for this abhorrence of mine. It seems only fair to do so.
Not so long ago I was introduced to the idea of a dance club. I had just stepped off the coach from Manchester to Lancaster and arrived in my flat. I was immediately struck by how friendly my flatmates were as they all insisted I come out clubbing with them that very night. Having never been to such an event, drinking being illegal at my age in America, I decided to throw caution to the wind and head on in to town. I was jet lagged, I could hardly see straight from exhaustion, but god damn it, I was going to dance!
As the hour of 10pm rolled around, my flatmates knocked on my door to see if I was ready to go. I had just spent the better part of an hour attempting to look presentable but when I opened my door I suddenly felt as though I’d just rolled out of bed wearing a potato sack and slippers. Each and every one of the girls in my flat was dressed in what I can only describe as the kind of clothing I see in fashion magazines and go “huh, that looks lovely and monstrously uncomfortable.” I had never seen so much glitz and glamour in my life. Back home in California we always accepted anything better than track pants as dressed up. I was very clearly no longer in my element. However, in the interest of getting to know people, I simply sucked up my clothing shame, stumbled into the cab, and prepared for my first ever dance club experience.
Upon arrival in said club I was instantly unimpressed. Not only had they robbed me blind at the door for a cover-charge, my lungs were now filled with the excrement of a cheap fog machine and my ears were already pulsing with terrible techno remixes of mediocre songs. Really, Britney Spears is bad. A remix is not going to fix that. Deal with it. In fact, I would wager that most of the people in dance clubs only put up with the music because they are a) drunk as all hell, and b) in a state of mind that can only be classified as a frenzied state of near insanity. Soon, however, my lungs adapted to the lack of oxygen and over abundance of smoke and my eardrums went numb. It seemed I had now grown my clubbing gills, as it were, and was ready to venture into the crowd.
It took me a grand total of five minutes in that sweaty gyrating multitude to realize that it really wasn’t for me. Perhaps it was my utter lack of dancing ability or maybe it was just a wondrous presence of mind but whatever the reason, I had to get out. These people were insane. I’m sorry, but it is just an unnatural phenomenon for people to actually enjoy such a pastime. First of all, I am fairly certain their must have been at least five strings of “Fresher’s flu” passing around the dance floor at any one moment. It’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s unsanitary, and really that which is called dancing is nothing more than planted feet and a hip shake here and there. I was getting so overly cynical standing in my corner surveying the madness that I knew something drastic needed to be done. So, I headed for the bar.
As it turns out I really have no problem with dance clubs… after enough alcohol to kill a baby elephant has passed my lips. In my opinion there is no other way to even come close to enjoying such a place. And, as I surveyed the scene through my newly found beer goggles, I became convinced that the rule held true for at least 95% of the people there. I suddenly had a vision of me standing there with a magic device that robbed everyone on the dance floor of their drunkenness. The room was instantly filled with utterly bewildered looking people wondering the following: why on earth were they drenched in sweat? Why were they drenched in sweat that wasn’t theirs? Who were these two completely strange people pushed up against them? Was that actual music punching holes in their eardrums? Or was it, as it sounded to be, actual tracks of cats dying? And above all, why oh why was there a guy wearing nothing but a sequined thong and some neon body paint? Slowly each and every person filed out into the streets, blinked up at the strobe-light-free sky, took a deep breath, and bustled off to some more worthy source of amusement. Sadly, like most of my fantasies in which I have a magical device to get rid of that which I hate, this one was soon ruined by reality. I heaved a great sigh, then did what any self respecting club go-er would do. I downed another shot of something or other and wedged myself into the sweaty mass of dancers.

By Kate Hetland

A Proper Weekend

2007-10-14T04:32:00.000-07:00

Up until now, weekends here have either consisted of endless hours in dance clubs or me coughing the night away in my room. Neither of these two options really tickle my fancy, to be perfectly honest. Don't get me wrong, I like to dance here and there, but it just seems to get old faster for me than for others. In any event, this weekend I managed to turn the tables on weekend activites. My flatmates had told me about these two great old pubs called the Water Witch and Three Mariners respectively. I have been trying to get to a nice traditional pub since I got here. Somehow, however, I always seem to either end up in a jazz club or in (you guessed it) a dance club. I was beginning to wonder if such a pub even exisited. I can now say that it does. And it was fabulous.

The first place we stopped (The Three Mariners) was a delightful little pub situated down by the canal in a little grove of trees. It was all very dark and Halloweeny in a cheerful kind of way. They just so happened to be giving out free pints of cider so we took ours and occupied one of the many picnic tables in the trees. The following picture is of me (with a slightly over-excited expression and some free cider) and the pub in the background.

The group that went consisted of my roommate from freshmen year (Linsey), our friend Justin (also from UPS) and our token Brit for the evening, Leo. One thing I've noticed is that, for some reason, at some point in the night the conversation always turns to politics. Tonight was no exception. I must say it's always a good time, and this evening was especially amusing as Leo attempted to explain how British and American political parties compare with a couple of leaves on a table. I was quite surprised to find out that both Democratic and Republican parties are farther right than their British counterparts. Yet another reason to like England I believe. Below is a picture of the leaf demonstration.

For our second act we four headed down the canal to The Water Witch (pictured below). This is perhaps my favorite place in Lancaster thus far (aside from the castle, of course). It's a great little pub with every ale you could ever want, a very cozy atmosphere and, if it's not raining, canal-side seeting with some very friendly swans included. Lovely. Simply lovely.

Yesterday evening (Saturday) I was roused from a very intense reading session of The Brothers Karamozov by an almighty cheering coming from the bar outside my window. Curious to see what all the fuss was about I bundled up and headed out. Turns out England was playing France at rugby... and it was a HUGE deal. The bar was absolutly packed with people. There was a small corner in which the french fans had been banished but they kept their sprits up with bright flags painted on their faces and such. It was a great time. British sports fans sure know how to watch a game. Lot's of singing, chanting, taunting (I did actually feel sorry for the french as they were outnumbered about 10 to 1) and just plain old screaming. I don't know a whole lot about rugby but I can tell you it is one of the most fun sports I have ever watched. I was hoping to play it myself, but sadly that idea was blocked by their insane athletic fees. Humph. In any case, if you have never seen a rugby match, do. But make sure it's with a bunch of poeple native to the country who is playing. It's fantastic!

So there you have it. That's my kind of weekend right there. And now I get to finish it off by reading hours and hours worth of gigantic books. I sometimes find it sad that they actually want me to study here in England. Alas. I'll leave you now with a picture of me with my first chips in a paper cone. They even give you a little fork. Go figure.

Well Mannered Violence

2007-10-11T16:24:00.000-07:00

*Please note that the following may very well be a gross generalization of various cultures. That being said, it is a personal blog, so with any luck no one will actually care.

Those of you who have ever had the misfortune of playing cards with me will know that I am an avid fan of "spoons". This is the game in which all players eventually end up scratching and clawing their way to the middle of the table to grab a spoon before their rivals manage to do so. Most often, I am playing this game with men. Now, in my experience, this game is one that shoves chivalry of any kind out the window with an almighty heave. Most guys I know will not hesitate to punch the hell out of anyone, male or female, who gets in the way of them and their spoon. Don't get me wrong, I myself have drawn blood in this game. It's just always been a bit shocking to me that the "never hit a girl" rule is so quickly done away with. Tonight, however, I have discovered that this is not a world wide problem.

This evening, in an attempt to feel less sorry for my cold/cough ridden self, I dragged my aching body to the neighboring flat of some friends of mine (mixed Americans and Brits). While the rest of the university was off dancing the night away to the usual techno remixs, we six sat around the kitchen table and decided to play cards. The Americans at the table quickly recommended "spoons" which the Brits had never heard of. They learned quickly, however, and we soon had a very loud and quite dangerous game going. After a few rounds we decided to spice things up a bit. We took those spoons and placed them outside the kitchen at the end of the hallway. The goal now was to be able to push your way past all others out the door, into the hallway, and grab your spoon before the rest of the hoard fell on you. I, being used to playing with American guys, was prepared for injuries akin to those obtained in rugby (which, by the by, I am now playing). The outcome, however, was somewhat different than expected.

When the time came for everyone to launch themselves into the hallway the only other female in the group was knocked down. I am slightly ashamed to say that I did not stop to help her but pushed a few guys out of the way and continued to hurtle down the hall. As I looked back, however, I saw something that was absolutly shocking to me. One of the British guys had actually stopped to help her up. Granted, he had been the one to knock her down but still... had this been the average American co-ed he would have simply run over her in his pursuit of spoon glory. And the whole game was like this. Not once did a Brit harm a hair on my head. Odd, but appreciated. Hence I come to reason number whatever-number-I'm-on-now why I like England. The men here, while perfectly able to kick the crap out of someone should they wish to, do not do so to women when playing cards. Or at least not the ones I've met thus far. I think that says a little something positive about a country.

Back to Basics

2007-10-06T12:13:00.000-07:00

On arriving here in Lancaster I quickly realized that I had, much to my horror, forgotten a few very important items. I'm not really a fussy person when it comes to general surroundings but my bedroom is a different story entirely. No matter where I am, if I'm going to be there for more than a few weeks my bedroom has to be arranged just so. The second I stepped into my room here I nearly cried. There was nothing, I repeat, nothing, to make the room at all home-like. I was surrounded by bare wood furniture and a bedding pack provided by the school (it's all pale hospital blue... not very cozy at all). I didn't mind that I was thousands of miles from home, or that I didn't have any food yet, or that I had no idea where my classes were. None of that bothered me at all. The room situation, however, caused my first (and only so far) breakdown. Over the past week, however, I've been able to collect a few things to make bedtime a bit less traumatic. I'm including some pictures below so those of you who would like to be able to place me in your minds (i.e. Elana) may do so. This way I'm no longer just floating around in some ancient city but sitting in a proper building.

1. This is me in my little English room.

2. My little rose bush. I named it Jane and it's made all the differnce in these spartan surroundings.

3. Nothing like cheap overhead lighting to get you down. This little guy was my solution to the problem.

4. Cheers for university poster sales.

5. Last, but not least, the view from my window. That's the offending bar on the left.

The "cute" factor

2007-10-05T10:48:00.001-07:00

While riding the bus into town today with a freind of mine (also an American) he posed an intersting question. Back in America we both find land without mountains to be quite boring and, well, rather ugly. Here, however, while we are surrounded by mostly fields and small hills everything is absolutly stunning. That's one of the main things I've noticed about England so far... it's absolutly beautiful. Even things that are most often ugly are gorgeous.

Take, for example, the shopping district here in Lancaster. It has everything your basic run o' the mill shopping mall would have such as drug stores, department stores, shoe stores, fancy boutiques, and so forth. Now, in America these things would be crammed into a huge block of a building with no windows and a usually seedy atmosphere. Here, however, these stores are spread out along small stone alleys and, get this, they all have windows that let actual sun light in. Go figure. The picture above is of the main shopping street on which I was able to buy a blow dryer in the drug store as well as some freshly baked bread from a roadside stall just outside. Sidenote: it was the best bread I've ever tasted!

Aside from the shopping areas, pretty much everything else is cute as well. The farms almost make me get teary-eyed. Those low stone walls winding through pristine fields with a small (i.e. not huge, red, and falling down) farmhouse in the distance just get to me every time. Even the cows look like someone arranged them in that formation on purpose. They just know how to stand in the perfect spot under that perfect oak tree to make the whole picture amazing. I keep meaning to go for a stroll and get some great pictures of these fields but as I have yet to purchase wellies such an adventure might prove deadly. Soon though.

Last, but not least, even the traffic here makes me happy. Don't get me wrong, I'd prefer not to sit in it. I do, however, like to look at it. I wonder if we just added a couple of red double decker buses to our traffic back home would we like it better? It might be worth a try.

The dining experience

2007-10-04T07:49:00.000-07:00

Generally speaking, I try to be open minded when it comes to food. French fries dipped in a chocolate milkshake? Sure, why ever not? My understanding nature, however, is now being tested. Whoever decided that baked beans on toast was a good idea should be dragged out onto one of these cute country lanes and trampled by a horse. Or maybe not. The point here is, I am starting to be a bit baffled by the food here.

For my first example, everthing seems to taste ever so slightly of bananas. I cannot explain this, but for some reason every pasta, sandwich, and biscuit tasted has a vague essence of banana. Also, and I know I should have been prepared for this, they serve potatoes with EVERYTHING. The picture above is a good illustration of this point. I ordered a panini which is, I believe, an italian dish (and if not, I've just made a bit of a fool of myself. Well traveled indeed). Now, in the States one can expect to either get their panini on its own wrapped in tacky fast food foil or with a salad of some sort. Paninis are heavy enough without adding on something more. And yet, when my meal came it was surrounded with potatoes as well as an occasional (and highly offensive) beet. Oh how I loathe beets. But that is neither here nor there. I was just astonished to find potatoes on my plate. They were good, have no doubt of that, but they seemed lost and out of place. I think there have been at least two different kinds of spuds in each authentic meal I've had here. And get this, chips (i.e. fries) are a near obsession here. We have two refrigerators in our flat and my flatmates have half-filled both with bags of frozen chips. After a night of pub crawling the sentiment usually revolves around "hey, anyone fancy some chips?". No offence to the British or potatoes but, well, where in God's name is the bloody lettuce when you need it?

That is, I suppose, the biggest change I've noticed in myself since I got here. I have never been much of a salad person. My opinion has always been that if I was meant to eat a heaping pile of greenery I would have been born as a rabbit or other furry woodland creature. Now, however, I would give almost anything for some good lettuce and actual salad dressing. Funny how these things work out. Sadly, all I've been able to find is some shredded lettuce of questionable origin with one tomato slice and a bit of salad cream on the side. I think I cried a bit inside for that one.

Really though, the food here is not bad. A great deal of it is right tasty. It's just very different. And, being human and all that, I have a hard time with "different". Who knows, I might learn to love potatoes. Or I might just start joining the cows in the fields across the way in munching the grass. They seem friendly enough and most likely willing to share. I suppose I'll really just have to wait and see.

First Impressions

2007-10-03T10:19:00.000-07:00

So, here I sit in my own tiny Lancaster University room. It looks as though this room was spit out of Ikea directly. It's very modern, very wooden, very clean, very European. The lucky ones in my flat have views of the countryside (cows, sheep, and cottages included). I, sadly, have had no such luck in the view department. My window looks out on the Lonsdale College bar. While it is a very nice bar, and is handy enough to be located less than 100 yards from my front door, its occupants can be very noisy at night. Ah well.

Thus far the university experience here is much different than what I've ever experienced or expected. For those of you familiar with the UC Berkeley campus, that's what I compare this to most. It's HUGE. I'm lost 80% of the time and I love it! From my college to the center of campus it's about a 15 minute walk along a field and then through a few other colleges. I suspect I will find this less enjoyable when the wind, sleet and snow begin. For now, however, I'm enjoying it well enough. The student body here is also far more diverse than UPS. I suppose that's to be expected. After all, who really wants to study in Tacoma if you've come from a country like Norway, France, etc? I love walking to the store and hearing at least five different languages on the way. I even got to practice my German while queuing for the ladies room. Good times indeed. And speaking of foreign languages....

For those of you who told me I wasn't really going to a foreign country because they speak English here... they don't. I'm living with a girl from Yorkshire, and if you've ever happened upon such an accent you'll know that it's quite foreign indeed. I can usually tell what she's saying but I have to concentrate a bit harder than expected. There is, surprisingly enough, a whole lot that's lost in translation here. While the Brits and I speak the same language the words just don't always match up. For instance, at dinner last night I had just finished my heaping plate of steaming goodness (i.e. various meats, potatoes in about five different forms, samosas, baked tomatoes, etc.) when my friend Faye asked if I "fancied a pudding?". Never one to pass up a good pudding I said I'd love one. You can only imagine my surprise when I was presented with a plate of cheese cake. I asked if they'd run out of pudding to which Faye responded that what I had in front of me was pudding. As it turns out all dessert here is called pudding. Only the snobs call dessert "dessert". Good to know I'm considered a snob here as well I suppose :-). Also, salad dressing does not exist here. You get salad cream on your iceberg lettuse. It's horrible. I now hate salad more than I ever thought possible. It's like coolwhip seasoned with God only knows what on lettuce. Not good. But at least they try.

Thus far the biggest cultural change I've noticed is the amount of socializing that goes on. I have been prodded into hitting the town each and every night I've been here. And we're not talking quiet pubs here (which is all I really want). We're talking huge dance clubs jam packed with sequined clad undergraduates and pumping the latest in techno dance music. They seem to love it here. I try my best to keep up but generally end up choking on the smoke from the smoke machine and getting dizzy from the strobe lights. I suppose it will just take some getting used to. Another main difference is that poeple are just plain nice here. They're always stopping to ask how they can help me as I stumble down the city streets with arms full of grocieries trying to remember which adorable cobblestone street the bus stop is down. It's very comforting.