My Semester Abroad

It's been a great week — I went to the British Library and saw original manuscripts like "Jane Eyre," "Beowulf," Shakespeare's 1st folio (published seven years after he died) — where that famous picture of him with his neck ruff comes from). There are tons of Bibles and the Golden Hagadah, which was made in Barcelona around 1320 and is quite beautiful.

Later went to this museum that used to be the house of Sir John Soane (b. 1753), who designed the British Bank. Soane left all of his things to the city, but said that he wanted everything to stay in his house. So everything is a bit cramped because his house isn't huge and he collected so many artifacts, including the first commissioned portrait of Napoleon to an Egyptian sarcophagus.

Random fact: I just learned why the word sarcophagus is similar to the word esophagus. They both lead to digestion, or so thought early archeologists. Sarx means flesh in Greek and phagein means to eat.So excavators actually thought that the limestone coffin was digesting the mummy! Gross, gross, gross.

Today in my Early Middle Ages class I learned why it was better to be a peasant in the 700s than an aristocrat: While conditions more or less remained the same for the poor, the upper class suffered a great economic dive. Poor things. Whenever someone in the lecture yawned, the professor would say, "Yes, Harry, I know, this is very boring. But humor me, please."

The UCL library is closed on Sunday! OK, correction: you can be in the library from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m., but you can't check books out. Thus, I had to stay there all afternoon to read Shakespeare's "The Taming of the Shrew," in a wooden chair that inhibited sleep. I'm up now, by the way, because the fire alarm has gone off yet again. I make the most of my time outside by painting my toenails — glad I had the presence of mind to grab the polish as we filed outside. Now, back to bed.

Instead of going to practice, I managed to get terrifically lost with Liz on our way to see "Gem of the Ocean," an August Wilson play. The play was amazing; about racial relations during a steel mill strike in 1906 Pittsburgh. It feels a little odd seeing an American play in London, but the audience loved it.

Every playhouse here serves little cartons of ice cream at intermission (or rather, "interval). It's a tradition that the States definitely needs to pick up.

Liz and I attempted to see a play with our Turkish friend Yasemin, but it was so far away that we missed it completely. On the way we passed The Royal Courts of Justice, which looks like one of the sets from "Bridget Jones's Diary."

SHOOTER/SOURCE

The Royal British Courts, Jan. 20, 2006

Instead of the play, we scoped out the financial district area and found a classy little tea place called the Cinnamon Bar, where the cookies are cheap and the tea is expensive, but damn is it good.

One thing not cheap in London: movies. Even with a student discount, I paid £9 to see "Memoirs of a Geisha." That's almost $16!

It's so odd the things that make you feel American. Like passing someone on the right when you're walking past them. Here they tend to pass you on the left. It's such a little thing, but I've already done several dance steps with strangers.

After class I went to the British Museum with a girl in my hall and we made it just in time for a tour in Arabian art. The tour guide knew so much: No religious Islamic art can depict animals in it because it's considered sacrilegious, so they like to draw cool designs and flowers along with their calligraphy. The Chinese, via trade and an invasion from an indirect descendant of Genghis Khan, influenced Arabian art; the Arabs copied Chinese images, and in Arab manuscripts of myths and battles the people drawn really look Chinese. You wouldn't know they were Islamic if it weren't for the writing.

Woo-hoo, history! Speaking of which, all of my classes at UCL are going really well.

"Will you guys cover the liberal democrats?" Mak asked.

"Only if there's free wine," said Harry.

"And chocolate," said Arun.

"Wot?? Go on ... wankers ... you'll be late!" she said, which had a great effect on their sudden decision to attend the event.

Well, there wasn't free wine or chocolate at the liberal democrats' discussion panel, but there was a heated discussion about nuclear energy and whether university should be free in Britain (up until a few years ago everyone received free education), with a lot of comparison of England to the States. I took some notes, so I guess I'm writing the article. 'Tis a shame — the article really would have been much better had the lib dems offered chocolate.

I've joined the Pi Magazine news department, which has its news meetings at a pub. And I also just joined the Ultimate Frisbee club too, and when I asked what practice would be like Saturday, the student coach said, "Well, we practice for maybe 2 hours and then play games until dusk. Next's the pub, are you coming?" he asked. And I almost laughed. Who can play Ultimate Frisbee all day? (P.S. to Mom and Dad, despite what it sounds like, I promise I'm studying too.)

There are drunken international students of all ethnicities singing out in the quad between the dorms. It would be quite charming really if they could carry a tune, but alas...

I got into a real snarl at the underground today with my friend Liz. If we hadn't listened to the others we would have managed our trip back with one tube switch, but instead we made four. It probably would have been easier to walk back from Camden Town to Goodge, but both of us were so tired from wandering around the market that all we wanted to do was sit down and people watch in the subway. There are so many accents in London that some people, when they hear me speak, don't even know I'm American. They have to ask.

And the funniest part is when I tell people I'm from Seattle, they get all excited and say, "Oh! Like Frasier?"

I'm here for six months, studying at University College London (UCL) for my junior spring semester, and London is amazing. I think I'm finally figuring out this "driving on the left side" thing after risking my life by crossing the streets. I've also found that combining 8 hours of jet lag and museum hopping just doesn't work.

I visited the British Museum to get tickets to their cool Persia exhibit (on Persepolis) when I realized I was so tired I could no longer walk in a straight line. Still, I managed to appreciate that Persepolis was an ancient city/castle in Persia that Alexander the Great burned down in 330 BC. Alex was drunk at the time, and his friend's courtesan suggested it would be a great revenge for when Xerxes attacked Athens a couple hundred years before. So down it went--a shame because it sounds really cool. The ruins are now in Iran, which is where the British Museum had most of its exhibit on loan.

My exchange program took all 30 of us on a walking tour around the UCL neighborhood. It's right in the middle of London, a quick walk to the British Museum. Our guide showed us all over and told us what famous people lived where. Apparently the University of London (which is comprised of several colleges, including UCL) has a rather famous senate building that not only is the basis for George Orwell's Ministry of Truth building in "1984," but also caught the fancy of Hitler back when he wanted to invade England.

LAURA GEGGEL / SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

A Chihuly glass sculpture hanging in the Victoria and Albert museum, Tuesday, Jan. 3, 2006.

German bombers were told to avoid the Senate House because Hitler decided to locate his headquarters there once the invasion proved successful, the tour guide said. I can believe it: the building looks so oppressive with its huge white blocked tiers rising toward the sky.

A couple days ago I met up with my British relatives and managed to finagle some clothes hangers out of them (hangers here are like a pound each!). They're a cheery bunch; when my dad's side of the family escaped from Germany in the 1930s, half of them came to the US and the other half went to England. I love having relatives everywhere I go. We went to Gilbert's old house (as in Gilbert and Sullivan), only now it's a hotel and a restaurant. Gilbert died there, too -- a lady fell into his swimming pool and he dived in to save her. But he had a heart attack and drowned. The fate of the lady is unknown, but we assume someone else saved her.