...And she's off (on spring holiday)!

Spring break has arrived, but before I break out the champagne, a recap of the last few days is in order. I’ve adored my Politics of Australia and New Zealand class for some time now, especially the weeks we focus on New Zealand, although it’s hardly because of its fascinating political system (insert sarcasm here). The lecturer is so animated and engaging, and his frequent and entertaining tangents don’t hurt. He always compares the New Zealand system to the British system, and then he looks straight at me and makes a comparison to the American system or asks me a question about the political situation there, which I admit is helpful and makes me feel like an expert. I only wish I could be more confident that the information I give to the class is as accurate as the lecturer thinks it is...I’m so much more comfortable being an American over here now than I was a few weeks ago, so instead of feeling like I have a big American flag levitating above my head every class, I find these teaching moments helpful and considerate instead.

Anyway, long story short, I love this class, partly because the lecturer tries to keep it interesting with plenty of discussion and Youtube clips, and on Monday, he outdid himself. He found a long clip of the New Zealand prime minister giving one of Dave Letterman’s signature top ten lists on his show. In addition to being a welcome reminder of home, the clip was hilarious. It was a little less hilarious afterwards, when the lecturer asked me to estimate for the class how many people watch Letterman every night. The really funny part happened next: the lecturer asked the class whether it was a good or bad political move for the prime minister to appear on the show, and one British student answered that it was a bad idea because the content made fun of New Zealand and perpetuated stereotypes. And then: “…and Americans are ignorant so they’ll believe it.” Perhaps the class’ roaring laughter reminded him that there was, in fact, an American in the room, because he looked at me, and as his face turned red, said “no offense!” The Chinese student sitting next to me generously offered to loan me a pencil to throw at him, but I think the class’ ridicule was enough. Good times.

That evening was less funny, as it was Francesca’s Last Supper (in Brighton), since she is not returning for summer term. My friends wanted to surprise her and have a full meal ready, so she was given strict instructions to only purchase salad at the grocery store. But they should have known better. Francesca is generous to a fault, and not being aware of the other arrangements, she and Giulia G. went to Sainsbury’s, and despite Giulia’s best efforts, she was unable to dissuade Francesca from buying not one, not two, but three desserts, along with an excess of salad ingredients. But it gets better. At the very same time, at the very same store, Giulia D. and her friend Giulia M. (it’s obviously a popular name in Italy) were shopping for Francesca’s surprise dinner. Fortunately, Giulia D. spotted Francesca first, so she called Giulia G. and told her to keep Francesca distracted while she hid in the cleaning supplies aisle with her scarf over her head. They should seriously sell the rights to their lives to a television company and produce a sitcom.

The dinner itself was lovely. My friends made delicious risotto, and Tina baked Francesca a Hello Kitty lemon cake (it was also scrumptious, for the record). There were ten or so people there, so Francesca’s extra desserts didn’t go to waste. The goodbye itself at the end of the evening was sad and protracted, and ultimately a bit pointless, since we did it all over again after breakfast with Francesca the next morning. Shakespeare didn’t know what he was talking about; there’s nothing sweet about parting.

Fortunately, I was too busy this week to mope for too long. On Tuesday evening, I went to the PhotoSoc social at a pub in Brighton, which was a lot of fun. Everyone in the group is really nice, and I’m enjoying getting to know some new people. And then last night, when I should have been packing/studying/applying for internships/doing something to make me feel better about doing nothing tangibly productive for the next four weeks, my next door neighbor invited me to hang out with him and his friends, and I am proud to say that I tried karaoke for the first time. I was absolutely dreadful, but it was super fun nevertheless, and considering the loud speakers he has (a huge understatement), it was a good thing I was having fun on that side of our shared wall, and not trying to sleep.

And then, today finally arrived. As soon as I finished packing and running errands this morning, I hopped on the first train to London (thank you striking teachers) and met my dad at the hotel, which is in a lovely part of central London. If you’re reading this, chances are you know me, so I don’t need to describe how happy I was to see him again. To make the day even better, not only did I not get lost once on my way there (was that a flying pig I just saw?), but my dad didn’t either, despite walking thirty minutes from Paddington Station. If we don’t deserve a round of applause, I don’t know who does! (Round of applause)

We rested for a little bit and then decided we’d hike to the London Eye since it was uncharacteristically sunny. However, we stepped outside and realized that the weather had turned when we weren’t looking, so we walked around instead. Because my dad has the best luck of anyone I’ve ever met, we happened to stumble upon Westminster Abbey just as Evensong was starting. The only way to get into Westminster Abbey without paying is to go to a service, and since the stars were aligned, we decided to check it out. Yes, for those of you who have just now recovered from fainting, you didn’t misread that. My dad actually suggested that we go to church. And we did. (Was that another flying pig? They seem to be everywhere today.)

A series of ushers gave us chilly stares as they escorted us into the building, although whether it was because of our sloppy attire or our tardy entrance (only fifteen minutes late!), I couldn’t say. The last usher was the creepiest of them all. He was dressed in a long red robe, and his face was completely expressionless. When he saw us from across the room, he held up his hand, and gestured with one index finger for us to come closer. If he had done that anywhere else on the face of the Earth, I would have run in the opposite direction screaming. He escorted us to seats in the back and closed the gate behind us. We were literally trapped.

It was a nice service, and I’m so glad I was able to see the building, especially the chapel, which is normally closed to the public. It’s really beautiful, and I’m amazed that human beings, especially those living hundreds of years ago, could construct something so huge and magnificent. We poked around the main part afterwards, and it’s literally a who’s who of the deceased.

We walked around the neighborhood for a little while, and after a quick stop back at the hotel, we had Hawaiian pizza at a nearby restaurant. Some things never change, even on another continent…This evening, we watched American sitcoms on a real television, and I was stunned when the shows didn’t have to stop and buffer in the middle of the best part. Now, my dad is sound asleep and snoring, and it’s making me tired, so I’m off to sleep too. Stay tuned for the next episode of Bob and Elyse’s Adventures in London!