Ravens

The week before last the whole BYU group got to spend a day at the Tower of London.  Due to the fact that my memory is not so acute after so much time has passed (especially since I didn't keep a notebook with me that day) and also the fact that it is really late at night, this post is going to lack the usual detail and excessive verbs that normally litter my blog.

The Tower of London was huge and teeming with tourists and little Yeomen in their traditional uniforms.  The royal crest could be found everywhere.  I'm really a big fan of the lion and unicorn thing- and I looked up some information about it later.  Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime when my eyelids aren't quite so heavy.

There is an old legend that says when the ravens leave, the Tower of London will fall along with the English monarchy.  I suppose English are a little superstitious, because they keep nine crows on the grounds with their wings clipped and employees who do nothing but make sure that the ravens don't get past the thick stone walls.  

They had a cool and kind of eerie effect on the place.  After all, this place held many prisoners who did not leave with their head on their shoulders.
This is a wall inside of one of the cells where people were kept for sometimes years.  Now there is plastic over the stone, and this is to protect the artwork left by the prisoners.  There were poems written, and sometimes very artfully done carvings of nature.  It was cool to see.  These poor people had a lot of time on their hands.
For all of your "A Night's Tale" fans out there... these lances are the real deal.  
We arrived at the Tower first thing in the morning.  The cobblestone streets were void of any people, so we rushed to see the Crown Jewels.  According to one of my professors, there is normally a ridiculously long line to get a glimpse of the bling.  But, since we were there so early, we got to walk right through.  It was gorgeous- of course.  I couldn't stop wondering how big of a headache these monarch's have sustained with 50 pounds of sparkly rocks pressing against their temples.
Classic.

Sometimes prisoners were taken into the Tower in a boat through this gate, called "Traitor's Gate."  Many of the women who lost their lives entered this way.
The Tower is built upon Roman ruins.  Crazy, huh?  Again- England just keeps the old, builds the new.  Roman ruins beside the Tower of London which is beside modern buildings... crazy.
This was our Yeoman, our guide for about an hour and a half.  He had that awesome British humor I love so much, but sometimes he went a little over the top.  Like in this picture... he saw that I was holding my camera up so he suddenly started yelling in mid-sentence and lurched toward me.  He was trying to scare me and mess up my shot.  Too bad, Mr. Yeoman- now I just have a blackmail picture of you.  So there.
We got this guard to talk to us!  We asked how much he got paid to stand perfectly still like that.  He kept his eyes staring forward as he whispered from the corner of his mouth, "Not enough..."  Haha! Poor guy.

Sarah and I are trying to imitate the dragons depicted on this super old and fancy cannon.  I don't know why.  It was her birthday- I just did what she told me to do.

There were a lot more than nine ravens, I think.  They're friends probably come hang out.

And here is Sarah's birthday celebration.  We got her McDonald's doughnuts for breakfast and I also made a few signs with sharpies that said, "Happy Birthday Sarah!" and taped them up around her bed.  

OK, side note: it is seriously the middle of the night here and I can hear someone down in some alleyway outside laughing like a maniac.  There are some wackos in London!  But I guess it's the same in any big city.

While I'm on my half-conscious tangent: people don't really call the bathroom the "loo" here.  Kind of disappointing.  They call it the "toilet".  It sounds so harsh to me, but I've finally gotten used to it and it comes naturally to me now.  I no longer ask for a "restroom" because I don't need a room to rest in.  I ask for a "toilet".  

And I don't ask "Are you in line?"  I have to ask if they are "queing."  At first that term totally went over my head.

Although there are many different terms and slang in the UK, they seem to have a weird perspective on our diction.  If someone from the UK finds out I'm from the U.S. they suddenly start using the word "cool" in every sentence.  It sounds very unnatural sliding out from a British mouth.  And they like to tease us by saying "howdy."  I'm pretty sure I've never been greeted with a "howdy" anywhere outside of a rodeo back in the states.

I'm sure I'll read this entry in the morning and not remember having ever written it.  

GOODNIGHT!

Homework? Psh!

            After a day filled with strange Shakespearian conundrums, I was tired of sitting around with textbooks.  There are few things worse than sitting inside doing homework while a city like London smirks at you from outside the window.

             Naturally, I resolved to go out and have some fun that next day.  Sarah was the only roommate I could convince to go with me.  Everyone else was worried about homework- because, in all honesty, we had quite a load that week.  So Sarah and I tried to invite the 10 girls living in dorm 1, but they also backed out at the last minute because of homework stress.  I couldn’t believe that 14 out of 16 girls chose homework over having a London experience. 

            I admire my ever-so-studious friends for their diligence in their classes.  But three months from now I don’t want to find myself sitting in a taxi on the way to the airport looking out the frosty window at all of the museums and sites that had I had passed up for a letter grade.  It’s an amazing opportunity to be able to learn and travel at the same time, but the greatest learning, I believe, will come from the experience.  Not the classroom.  And that’s more important to me than seeing the letter “A” on a piece of paper.

            So, leaving our friends behind with their homework, Sarah and I set off for Kensington Palace.  It was a beautiful sunny day.  In fact, it has only rained two days out of the 17 days I’ve been here.  The rest have been sunny and warm, and perfect for a run through Hyde Park and the Kensington Gardens.  Sarah and I try to go jogging every morning before breakfast.  Look at the beautiful park we get to jog in just across the street from our neighborhood.  

            Some evenings we go there to read for homework.  Golden leaves are starting to accumulate on the ground, and it’s so picturesque to watch them streaming in a race across the asphalt paths with the breeze pushing them along.  But the morning that we were walking through to the palace there was no breeze at all, just a warm sun.

            We didn’t really know where we were going, but we had seen the palace on our jogs in the park before, so we headed that direction.  Eventually we found ourselves in a garden, and figured we were getting close.  Huge, perfectly trimmed hedges led us down a pathway and finally to a side entrance to the palace.  Compared to the other palaces I’ve been able to see thus far in my travels, it seemed unusually small.  Too big to be a house but too small to be a palace.

            But, the building is still big enough to hold lots of history.  It is the birthplace of Queen Victoria, and has been the home of monarchs such as Queen Anne and Queen Mary (not to be confused with the “Bloody Mary”).

            Now it is the residence of other members of the royal family.  Prince Harry is there sometimes, as he was raised there.  His mother, Princess Diana had lived there when she was alive.  Dukes and Duchesses of Kent and Gloucester live there now, and the prince and princess of Kent.  But of course we weren’t able to just drop in for tea with them. 

            We got our student rate (England loves students and we get absolutely everything cheaper!) and entered the State Rooms, which are open to the public..  Sarah and I grabbed ourselves our own little mechanical tour-guides, which talk your head off as you move throughout the palace, and started on the bottom floor.  Sadly, they did not allow flash photography, and so most of my pictures turned out dark and blurry.  Otherwise this post would have a lot more pictures.

            The first room was set up to look like a dressmaker’s shop.  They had original dresses, needles, and even advertisements all over the room from the late 19^th century.  We also listened to stories of the hard labor, and sometimes resulting death, of the women that worked to make these dresses for the more fortunate.  The next rooms were all about Cotillion!

            I immediately wished my little sister Alexa was with me.  She’s going to be doing Cotillion in a few months, just like I did when I was a senior in high school.  Our cousin Samantha is going to be doing it also this year, which will be cool.  It would have been fun to check it out together.  Alexa and Sammie, this is for you guys:

            All this fancy debutant stuff started in the mid 1700’s.  Young girls of the wealthy upper class were presented to court, but most importantly to bachelors and their families.  Middle class girls could be presented if they found a sponsor.  It was hoped that by the end of the debutante season, each girl would land a husband of similar social standing. 

            The season began with each girl being presented to the queen at the court.  The court in which this big event would happen was known as the court of St. James.  Today, the curtsey that you girls will learn is titled, the St. James Bow.  The season usually ran for a few months with many parties and opportunities for the young women to meet… well… cute rich guys.

            White was the color to wear, as it represented the purity of the girl.  But, as time wore on, pinks and other colors started becoming acceptable.  We saw many dresses worn throughout the ages.  My favorites were these, worn in the 20s.  The girls of this day were also required to wear white ostrich feathers and pearls.

            The parties throughout the season were a big deal.  Today, Alexa and Sammie are not going to be hunting down husbands… but instead they will be supporting a charity.  That is really what Cotillions are all about now.  The last debutantes had their final curtsey in 1958 when Queen Elizabeth II (the current Queen of England) got rid of the ceremony. 

            So now England, Australia, Ireland, and the United States all continue the old tradition of Debutante Balls, but the Queen is no longer involved and it’s really just for charity and to have an excuse to dress up.

            We were able to watch some old black and white footage of the last true debutante ball.  It was so cute watching the girls in their bobs nervously waiting with their mothers to bow to the queen.  Some messed up and were probably scarred for life.  So girls, if you mess up just be glad it’s not in front of the queen and hundreds of families scrutinizing your every move for their sons.  You’re just supporting a good cause and your family and friends get to see how gorgeous you are in a big white cotillion gown.

Here we are trying to follow the lady on the screen above the mirror, in a St. James Bow.

            Back in the day the girls even went to special schools to prepare to be a debutante.  There was a room where you could try to learn a thing or two that they had ingrained into their brains.  There was a dance pattern on the ground that you could follow.  It was a waltz that Sarah and I tried out.  I had to be the guy, which was actually a lot harder than being the girl, I think.  Then we tried walking this line with a book on our head- yes they actually practiced that.  

We even tried to learn how to tie a bow tie. 

As you can see… that didn’t work out too well.

            So we moved on to see Princess Diana’s dresses.  The whole exhibit raved about her fashion sense.  I’m sure it would all make more sense to me if I had been older in the 80s and 90s.

            After we climbed this black marble staircase we left the world of gowns and cotillion behind us and got to see the room Queen Victoria was born in.  Her bed was there, which really wasn’t as grand as I expected it to be.  She was eighteen years old when, in the early hours of the morning, someone woke her up and let her know of her ascension to the throne.  In no time she moved to Buckingham Palace and took her bed with her.  Since then it has been returned.  There were gallery’s and drawing rooms that were very beautiful and filled with awesome artifacts. 

            Sarah and I were way happy when we walked out and back into Kensington Gardens.  Tucked away in the back of Hyde Park, it seems that a lot of people don’t realize that the palace is open to the public.  And it’s really cool!

            Then we received a phone call from a few of our friends that they had decided that we were right and that homework was completely overrated.  They were in Hyde Park and on their way to the Science Museum.  We liked that idea- free entry!  So the only trick was to find them.  Hyde park is very big.  

They tried to pick the biggest and most obvious memorial to meet by (the Albert memorial), and after a few wrong turns down obscure dirt pathways, we finally met up with them.

            What an awesome museum!  We got to go to the Wallace and Gromit section of the museum, which was really made to support the protection of great ideas with copyright laws, etc.  But it was really cute and fun.  I was stoked because we got to see the real sets used in the movies.  Wallace and Gromit it the cutest British show ever!

            We got to do a few other cool things like make wallpaper (above), shoot off rockets, and watch a guy make explosions with household items.  We had to head back home after only a few hours but we are all eager to return another day.  That’s what I love about living here, I never feel like I have to squeeze everything in at once.  As long as I don’t keep myself locked up in the center too often with homework chaining me to my desk, I’ll be able to see almost everything I want to!

            The grand finale for the amazing day was going to the Globe Theater.  

It has been built to look exactly as it did when Shakespeare and his company performed there.  There is no ceiling, only open air and three balconies with seats.  For much cheaper you can be a "groundling" which means that you don't get a seat at all.  Instead, you can stand in the dirt directly in front of the stage.  The actors had no microphones, there were no extreme special effects,- it was all very authentic.  We saw the play “As You Like It” which was hilarious.  We had to read it for my Shakespeare class beforehand, which I found enjoyable. But actually seeing it acted out on stage blew me away.  I have a completely new appreciation for all of Shakespeare’s plays.  It makes such a difference to see the actor’s funny gestures and expressions to go along with the words.  I hope to see another Shakespeare play in the Globe Theater soon.  Even though we have to sit on these super hard wooden seats, it’s completely worth it.

  The next day we got to see Wicked.  I’ve seen it once before in New York with my mom and grandparents, so I already knew how amazing it was going to be.  A few of us, even the ones who had never seen it before, knew the words to every single song.  It was tempting to sing along, but of course we didn’t.  There was a group of 8-10 year old boys in front of us, which was awesome because I could see right over their heads without a problem.  The voices were amazing, and I noticed many of the differences between the CD and both of the performances.  They were all distinctive, which was really cool to see and hear the different interpretations.

We all walked out with huge stupid smiles on our faces and sang “Loathing” and “Defy Gravity” all the way home, much to the disgust of the Londoners in the tube.

            Oops.

Diversity of London

Anyone who has been to London would quickly agree with the assertion that it is extremely diverse. Walking the streets and through the parks of this city I've noticed that interracial marriage is nearly as common as same-race marriage. England does a fantastic job accommodating all of the different cultural backgrounds and life styles. For example, I've never had to worry about how I'm going to get a meatless meal. I have yet to eat at a restaurant that doesn't have a vegetarian menu. That's right, a full menu. There's usually even options for those who are have allergies to gluten.

Southall is a suburb in West London which is mainly a South Asian residential district. It's like a "Little India". As soon as we climbed off of the train I could smell the strong spice in the air. The smell of Indian food seems to stick onto your clothes in a matter of seconds. While there are still some Christian churches, like this super old one, most of the buildings reflect religions such as Sikh, Hindu, and Muslim. 
This is a Gurdwara, a Sikh temple. It is one of the largest (if not the largest) outside of India. It is open to anyone and everyone, so we shuffled in to the bottom floor where we entered into a sort of giant mudroom. There were rows and rows of wooden cubby holes, and big baskets filled with scarves. These scarves were intended to cover your head. There are two requirements for entering a Sikh temple: cover your head and take off your shoes. This shows respect to Vahe Guru, which it their title for God.
After figuring out how to keep our scarves in place, we left our shoes in cubbies and walked into a spacious room. From there we followed a large arched staircase to a huge white room. It was plain except for the colorful shrine centered on the far side of the room. It looked like a seat fit for a Maharaja, complete with a person fanning the area with a white fluffy thing called a Chaur sahib. But there was no king or prophet in the seat. It was a book. Interesting, huh?

Practicing Sikhs come at least once a day (they are asked to attend twice a day) to the Gurdwara. Each person walks reverently down the isle, bows to the book, offers a coin or two, and then backs away to one side to sit and meditate. They never turn their backs on the book. While most people get down on hands and knees to touch their head to the floor, we students simply bent down far enough to touch the floor with our fingertips before going to sit cross-legged on the left side. But even the oldest people with canes got down, all the way, until their foreheads touched the blue carpet before the shrine. I even saw a two-year-old, placed on all fours by his parents, who knew exactly what to do. He touched his forehead to the ground before reaching a chubby hand up to the golden table to try to grab at some coins.

Here is my tray of food.  Any Gurdwara in the world is open to anyone coming in for a free meal.  This is possible because of the tithing that the members pay.  They believe that eating meat is a sin, so I wasn't too worried when we went down for a cultural lunch.  Receiving the food was much like what I've seen in cafeteria scenes in movies.  The lady in the hairnet turns over the ladle to let brownish green sludge plop onto your plate with a sickening splat.  It smelled strong and didn't look appealing.  Some of the girls refused to even eat it.  Trying to be more open minded, I tried everything.  And actually- it was all really good!  I loved it!

I think the Sikh religion is very interesting, and the people are so dedicated. It was an amazing experience.

There was more to see in Southall, including some Hindu temples such as this one:
They had many idols and didn't bother with being quiet about it.  All of their figures wore smiles and the colors were all so bright.  We didn't need to cover our heads in these temples but we were still asked to remove our shoes.

We went to an Indian restaurant for dinner where we tried many different kinds of dishes.  The food was so spicy that my eyes kept watering.  But I liked everything I tasted.  Hearing Indian music in the streets and Bollywood stores was fun, and several girls got Indian henna (which is much different than what we got in Mexico City last year).  It was an eye-opening experience.  Who knew I'd be experiencing a completely foreign culture without leaving London. 

My Pilgrimage (Canterbury and Beyond)

"Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; And specially from every shires ende Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende, The hooly blisful martir for to seke That hem hath holpen, whan that they were seeke." ~ Geoffrey Chaucer Imagine my English professor, Dr. Paxman, reciting that.  His voice came on the speakers on the bus in what sounded like an Irish accent.  Very funny. But I think what Geoff was trying to say is; thousands of people have made pilgrimages to Canterbury to worship at the site where Sir Thomas Becket was martyred, who was Archbishop of Canterbury in the 12th century.  Most of us know this because we were forced to read the Canterbury Tales in high school.  Now I found myself following in the footsteps of the millions before me, on my own pilgrimage to Canterbury. This is the entrance to the Canterbury Cathedral precinct.  We were greeted by a cute little old man, who I'm sure has shrunk several inches in the last decade or so.  He was our guide throughout the tour, which took two and a half hours.  Wow.   The cathedral was much like many others I've seen since being here. It has burned down and been rebuilt several times and in different periods different sections were added on or destroyed.  But the real reason people still travel to see this old building is to see the spot where Sir Thomas was killed.

And there it is.  A modern plaque to Thomas.  This is where he was stabbed to death.  There are no blood-stained tiles, because they were taken away by another archbishop who wanted to make some money out of them.  But it turns out the tiles weren't needed to get the church lots of visitors bearing gifts.   

Families with high status and mucho dinero were asked to help support the church with donations.  In return, the family was immortalized by having their crest added to the ceiling in a part of the cathedral.  This is only a small section, so you can imagine how much help the church has been receiving.

I wanted to ask our little old guide if this was where he lived.  I could just envision him in a baggy brown monk outfit feeding his stray cat pal in this doorway.  Whether it's him or not... I thought it was interesting that this cat bowl was just left around like this.

Harry Potter?  Yes it looks much like the corridors of Hogwarts, but we are still in the Canterbury Cathedral.  But these cloisters are designed much the same, using a late Gothic style.  Yup, that includes the scary faces.

My favorite thing about the Canterbury Cathedral was seeing Becket's ghost.  No photography is allowed in the crypt, otherwise I would have taken pictures of this part of our tour.  Our sweet little guide took us down the stone steps into the dark dungeon-like hallway.  Most of the area is roped off, because it is the oldest part of the church.  We were able to go into a room that had been walled up and concealed for many years.  It discovered not too long ago with a medieval fresco still partially intact.  It was awesome to see how brightly colored a cathedral like this would have been in those times.  

But what was really cool was going into the room where Thomas was originally buried.  A pillar beside his burial place has a big black mark on it, shaped like a man.  The pillar was scrubbed and scrubbed again, but the black mark would appear again no matter what they did.  The mark is no longer cleaned but has become part of the whole "attraction" of Canterbury Cathedral.  They call it Thomas Becket's ghost.  

After saying goodbye to our guide we headed over to the sweet shop which was just across the cobblestone street.  We got free suckers and then got some Cadbury eggs.

Then we got swindled out of our money at a tourist shop.  
Don't worry, we didn't actually buy the hats, as tempting as it was.

We piled back onto the bus.  Our driver, Tony, pointed out everything we passed.  He especially liked to point out the harvesting of the hops... over and over again.  But we all but pressed our faces up against the glass to get a good look at Dover Castle.  Built in the 12th century, this building has been of immense significance to England for a very long time.  William the Conqueror would have seen this same building as he and his army came blundering through this part of England on his way to his coronation.  Cool, huh?  

Many of the rooms were made to look as they did in the 12th century.  This would have been a part of the kitchen where the servants would make meals for their masters.  Jenny is making some bread for me.  I guess that makes her my servant.  :-)

Of course most of the things they ate back then would not have been very appealing to me.  A pig head, for example.  Alex might have enjoyed it, though.

How boring is this guy's job?  But he looks cool and added a little flare to the entrance of the castle.  

The knight wasn't the only medieval character to be roaming the old ruins.  A king and queen were in the throne room greeting us as we passed through.  The tapestries and other such things, although not true medieval artifacts, were made to look much like it had when it was in use.  I really liked that.

Cannons!

Look at the complicated network of stairs.  I almost got lost walking around and couldn't even imagine what it would be like to try to find your way at night with nothing but a torch.

The stairs lead to different rooms but also to long empty corridors.  By analyzing the small holes in the walls and then these bigger holes that have been transformed into windows, we figured out that these were once used for ventilation.  No AC back then.  
Every castle and manor had a place for Christian worship.

Our archer stances.

Our final destination for the day: the Cliff's of Dover!

Tony joked over the bus microphone that England beaches were nothing to brag about.  He wasn't just being modest- he was dead on.  The sand, or lack thereof, was really painful to walk on.  The huge stones kept getting stuck in my shoes, which I believe in this picture I'm dumping them out.  The salty water reeked of dead scallops and fish, and the evidence of the killings were strewn down the beach in a straight line, as if someone had purposely placed them all there in a perfect pattern.  Clearly the tide was in.

Other than our huge herd of 39 girls, the beach was deserted.  We each braved the freezing waters and dipped our toes in.  It was cold, but I think the beach in Edinburgh was colder- at least the day that I was there.  We saw several specs splashing out quite far into the channel.  Goggles, swim caps, but no wetsuit.  Those crazy channel swimmers!

But for a good while Alex and I just sat on a bench overlooking the ocean, eating our sandwiches.  Well, mine wasn't really a sandwich.  Living here I've been learning lessons of survival of the fittest- I had been the last one down to make my lunch and so it consisted of white bread and two slices of swiss cheese.  But the site was still beautiful.  I've read quite a few references to the white cliffs of dover, as I'm sure you have.  To actually be there and seeing the chalky landscape looming over a steely grey ocean... it was cool.

And finally... these are the Dover seagulls that stole my swiss cheese.