sniffles on an airplane

Friday, August, 24th, 2012.

You know when you get on an airplane and there’s that one girl…

She starts to sniffle, then cough, but daintily, to try and mask the fact that she’s probably infecting the air you’re all sharing in this extremely enclosed space that is the plane. She asks for more tissues from the flight attendant, because she’s in the window seat and can’t get out to get them herself, so her row companions get to watch her wipe her desperately runny nose with her sleeve, because the flight attendant forgot about her request. And of course she can’t sleep, because she’s now coughing and sneezing (at least attempting to curtail the blows, but really just making it worse) and leaning against that awkwardly concave window, in an attempt to get comfortable. The whole scene is just a horrible annoyance.

You know what’s worse than sitting next to that person?? Being that person!

MISERY.

In the last week, starting Monday Night, I’ve gotten a total of 12 hours of sleep in 5 days.

Between writing a final essay, traveling to and from Denmark, studying for a final exam, packing, then catching the bus, I have gotten an average of 2-3 hours a night.

I used to have this awesome super power. I bragged about this super power: I could sleep pretty much anywhere, pretty much anytime, under pretty much any circumstance. As of this week, my power is lost. I tried to sleep on the bus to the airport on Wednesday, because we woke up at 4:30, and I’d gone to bed at 2, so I was exhausted. I tried to sleep on the plane ride to Copenhagen. I tried to sleep on the way back, after having walked around a city for 10 hours: the plane the train and the other train. Unsuccessful.

I tried to sleep in my own BED last night, but for fear of sleeping through my alarm, I didn’t sleep at all. Zilch.

I tried to sleep on the 3 hour bus ride to the airport this morning, and the EIGHT HOUR plane ride to Chicago.  All my efforts futile.

What’s wrong with me? My super-power is gone! All right—who in Cambridge was hiding the Kryptonite?

And because of this highly stressful week (I wrote a final paper, traveled to Denmark, sent in a final portfolio, and took a final exam) and extreme lack of sleep, apparently, I am now sick.

Super.

I finally just gave up trying to sleep, and started writing this. My poor airplane companions: this blog post is dedicated to you all. It’s hard enough being stuffed in this quarantined air vessel together for eight hours, without some miserable little sicky poisoning the air. And even though you don’t know me, and will probably never see me again, please accept my sincerest apology for my current state of being.

Next time I see a coughy, sneezy person on my airplane, I will not be annoyed. My heart goes out to you poor soul in sympathy. I’ll probably still overdose on vitamins and cold-preventatives as soon as I get off the plane though. No offense. 

Cambridge Chronicles: Recap

The last two months, I had the incredible opportunity to study at Cambridge University. It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. 

here is a very simplified Recap of the term: 

Courses Taken:

• Spooks and Spies: the history of British and American intelligence
•  I learned quite a bit about WWII and Cold War history—I will never look at the cuban missile crisis quite the same way. 
• I also learned what camaraderie and support can arise in situations of dire stress.
• Pictorial Satire:
• I learned a ton about 18^th century London; the society, the politics, the royal family, the population’s views on socialites and “modern-day” fashions, and a lot about the French Revolution. People are similar in any century: a good scandal was as interesting then as it is now!
• I learned how to effectively make a sentence humorous with a well-placed swear word by observing my awesome teacher.
• Creative Writing:


• I had a supervision, which means I met one-on-one with my supervisor every week. She was truly phenomenal. In a previous post, I mentioned that she was similar to Professor Trewlaney from Harry Potter. The only similarity, besides perhaps her hair, is the fact that my supervisor must have had MAGICAL POWERS. That is the only explanation I can think of to explain how wonderful she was:
•  Brilliant, articulate, but also friendly, and quite hilarious--her quick-witted side comments often had me rolling with laughter. Incredibly knowledgable in the industry as well as the art. She pointed out every small piece of my writing--stuff that I knew I didn't like, i just didn't know why--that could be improved-and could tell me how to improve it. 
•  She even wore a robe to the final formal hall, just for me--because she's that awesome.
• Even though I learned a lot through my courses, I think I learned the most from side-conversations. Bus rides, car rides, meals, study groups (that got off topic), church meetings, and street corners, and everywhere in between. Sometimes with professors, but mostly with students. I had some of the most wonderfully enlightening and intellectually stimulating conversations I've ever had in my life. Two whole months of that! It was marvelous!

           

Cities Traveled to:

• Edinburgh, Scotland
• London, England (a lot)
• Brateslava, Slovakia (sort of. I mean we drove through… on the way to—) 
• Vienna, Austria
• Bath, England
• Stonehenge
• Copenhagen, Denmark 

1) The cities themselves were WONDERFUL. Every single one. They were interesting, full of culture and history and European charm. 2) I was so lucky to be able to travel with incredible people—they were at least half the fun!

Professional Shows Seen:

• Taming of the Shrew
• Shrek the Musical
• Richard III
• Lion King
• Les Miserables
• Singin in the Rain
• Ragtime
• Twelfth Night

oh man, I feel so very cultured.

Each one very different from any another, and each one incredible in its own right. Something I noticed about theater, one reason I love it, there are so many different ways a show can impact an audience. Some shows penetrate your soul with vocals and harmonies (Lion King), and some really force you to question your life, and the costs of honesty and redemption (Les Mis). Some teach you about a history and culture and qualify love of humanity over the oppression of racism (Ragtime), and some just make you darn happy! (Singin in the Rain). I honestly do not think one is better than another.  I think there is a place for all kinds of musicals, and furthermore, I believe there is a need for every kind. 


One more random note:

My church does not have the corner market on goodness. Even if they don't believe in God at all, there are incredibly good men all over the world. I knew that, but it's always a wonderful thing to witness.

That being said, another wonderful thing to witness was that men can be both good and competent. Sometimes it feels like you have to choose: high academia or religion. But I watched in awe my fellow church members, as they excelled in a world of sophisticated intellectuals, and were humble enough to still firmly stand by their testimonies of God. 

Thank you, Cambridge. Thank you for the wonderful friendships, the incredible conversations, the fantastic memories. 

Cambridge Chronicles: living at Hogwarts

Here is a small glimpse into my life here at Cambridge, and why it is remarkably like Hogwarts:

• My bed magically makes itself once a week. I'm pretty sure by house elves.  

There are little café’s/pubs around that look an -<----awful lot like Hogsmeade









There is a CLOAK ROOM. I kid you not. (it happens to house a toilet, but still...)

There are big paintings of college headmasters and mistresses in the dinning hall. And sometimes, early in the morning, I see their eyes move. i swear.

Formals and exams,  all the professors and TAs (or prefects, in this context) are wearing black wizarding robes. no joke.-->

I often hear parseltongue outside my window at night. (it might be russian, but it sounds like snake... )

• I bought a dough pie filled with some combination of strange meat from “The Cheese and Pie Man” at the market. Straight out of birdie botts. It was delicious.

• I go to my supervision up crazy spiral staircases—that I swear move every week.  The library has secret staircases that lead to restricted sections! (just kidding about the restricted sections). but there really are secret staircases



this is my campus. no joke.

• They play tennis on grass here; which is basically quidditch.

My supervisor, who works with me on creative writing, she is basically Professor Trewlaney. She has a long, thin nose. Lengthy, wild, stringy, reddish, grayish hair. She is brilliant, so kind, and incredibly articulate, except when she’s trying to spare my feelings, then she stumbles over her words.

One of my classes was a history class through the lens of British and United States intelligence. We studied covert operatives—I basically studied about auroras.

• There’s ginger beer—basically butter beer--I'll bet butter beer tastes better though.

Espionage/code breaking definitely feels like magic sometimes. I often felt in my lectures that my professors were teaching a potions class.

Punting looked an awful lot like first years being brought to the Hogwarts castle for the first time! Doesn't it?!

<-------











We have formal dinners, in a GRAND dining hall, that literally looks like the Hogwarts hall:

Hogwarts Dining Hall

Kings College Dining Hall---I know right?!

can you see the secret door?

There's a secret door to get into Pembroke College.
That I frequently forget how to open...

There is definitely magic at this place.











How else would this guy fit into a trash can and sing?

I'm on my way!

Sidewalk Etiquette

I met this boy about a month ago. Our summer school program was taking us on a fieldtrip, and we randomly ended up next to each other for the long bus ride. For the sake of protecting the innocent, we shall refer to this boy as “Jay.” Social norms encouraged conversation for the majority of the long trip. He really was quite intelligent, insightful, and articulate; we discussed everything from religion and politics to relationships and movies, and I thoroughly enjoyed the conversation.

The first pit stop, we mused about what necessary road trip accouterments we were going to buy.

“I really want a big bag of pretzels. And a large coke” He said.

I wanted to reply: “you can’t get a large drink at a pit stop on a road trip!  You’ll have to pee so soon!” But instead, I restrained myself, lady-like, and focused on the pretzels: “I’m more of a candy person when it comes to road trips. Salty things just make me thirsty”

“Hence the coke” Jay answered.

 Idiot.

When I stood up, I bumped my head on the ledge above my bus seat, and warned him to watch his head, as I expected him to do the same. At his full height, he cleared it by four inches. Now, looking down at his face, and him looking up at mine, we both nodded, mutual understanding of this interesting development, and I ran off the bus. After that, our conversation changed just a little bit; relaxed a little bit. It was one of those, turns-out-I’m-not-physically-attracted-to-you-so-I-can-flirt-but-still-talk-normally/say stupid things-because-I’m-not-worried-about-turning-you-off-of-the-idea-of-dating-me situations.

Enjoying my very reasonable road-trip food—chocolate crunchies—I stared at the coke in his hand, and said what I had wanted to say, “You know, you really shouldn’t get a large drink at a pit stop on a road trip!  You’ll have to pee so soon, but we’re not going to stop again, cause we just did. When you bought that coke. You see the cycle?”

The silent conversation that when on in both our heads was as follows:

“Good point. Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“Because I thought you were a dating prospect, and I didn’t want you to associate me with urine. But now that we’d never go out, I figured I’d be my true obnoxious self!”

He just laughed and sipped. Then an hour later, the bus had to stop. Of course.

So after the trip, we would see each other around every once in a while. We would politely nod, wave, or just smile, depending on the level of societal acceptance the situation dictated. We would acknowledge the fact that we once spent a large amount of time together, but would never really talk again. We were both at peace with that fact.

            So the other day, after a long day of classes, and exams coming up, I was in a hurry to get home. I was keeping up a pretty good pace, eyes intensely focused on the ground in front of me, backpack bouncing up and down, when I noticed someone in front of me, walking at nearly the same pace. He was moving forward just slightly slower than I, so I was catching up to him, but not quickly. I recognized this person as Jay. I caught one subtle side-glance of his red-haired, short head. I knew that he knew that I was there.

I was tired, and not in the mood to be friendly and make cordial small talk. And obviously Jay was not either. If he wanted to talk to me, he’d turn his head completely around, say something to the effect of, “Oh! Hey! Didn’t see you there!” and then pause long enough that I could catch up to him, then we’d both make small talk for the rest of our 7 minute journey home. Seven minutes is a long walk. With someone you are sort-of-friends with.

I scrunched my brow and pondered my options. 1) I could pick up my pace and speed walk, and wave as I passed Jay by.  But at the pace we both were already going, I’d practically have to jog to pass him. 

2) I could catch up to him, and say, “Hey! Jay! Didn’t notice it was you there!” We would chit chat about “how long it has been!” And “how were our classes?” And, “we’ll have to go to coffee and catch up sometime”

Also, full disclosure, we’re calling him Jay because I actually forgot his name. I’m pretty sure it started with a J. So if I did option 2, then I’d have to avoid saying his name, and the whole thing just seemed like a lot of effort.

Option number 3) I could slow down to match his pace, try and walk quietly enough so that we could both keep pretending that we didn’t notice the other person there.

So I justified this incredibly awkward and immature approach to sidewalk contact, and slowed down slightly, and stayed at a consistent three feet behind him.

Then he turned the corner.

“Perfect!”  I thought, “He’s on the same wave-length! Good plan, Jay. You pretend to go down that street, and pause for 30 seconds while I walk by, so we can avoid this encounter neither one of us wants.” Then I shook my head.

“Oh my goodness! You’re being ridiculous! He probably actually needs to GO down that street. Not everyone in the world over-thinks petty situations like this and is as paranoid as you are acting right now…”

So I laughed at my silliness, and kept walking. But just for kicks, and probably because I am a little paranoid, I did a subtle head turn. Jay was there, walking behind me at a safe distance. Dear goodness. He had pretended to turn the corner to let me pass. I knew it! 

My faith in the awkwardness of humanity was restored! 

VIENNA. I marveled.

This last weekend I went to Vienna, and I marveled. On top of marveling at the incredible city and architecture of Vienna, the cultural and music capital of the world, I marveled at the passion of my travel companions. I marveled at the power of music. And I marveled at the love of humanity across language barriers.

Let me tell you about my travel companions:

Kelsey, Katherine, Aileen-- respectively

Aileen is honestly, to-the-core, beautiful. She has a great sense of direction, and a very useful talent for reading maps. She loves laughing, and learning, and has a light that just emanates love.

Aileen has a passion for horseback riding. I loved hearing about dressage and the Spanish Riding School. The way she talked about the partnership between a rider and his horse, gave me such new insight. I really never thought about it twice before, but through Aileen’s eyes, I found an appreciation for horses and riding in a completely new way.

Kelsey is hilarious. She is just wicked funny. She would send me side glances, just a subtle flick of a grin in my direction, and I would be rolling with laughter. This would happen ALL THE TIME. She is so clever, and light-hearted, and makes any annoying situation so much better.

I marveled at Kelsey’s passion for modern art. We went to this old church, built in the 1920s, that was bulky and blocky and didn’t look much like a church. When we first drove up to it. I thought, “meh.” But I had the fortune of walking around the building listening to Kelsey explain why it was so cool to her. The way she marveled at the architecture, the symbolism, the effects of a modern grounded world mixed with the light and freedom of religion, made me marvel at it too. We went to a modern art museum. And I followed Kelsey around, listening to her explore the importance of a painting that wasn’t just a representation. That unlike a landscape, or a portrait, this artist’s picture, we could never have seen on our own, because it was an abstract image in his imagination. I’ve never gotten modern art, but through Kelsey’s passionate perspective, I caught a glimpse of why people appreciate it.

Katherine is the most mild and kind person; she is incredibly loving. She has a sweet maternal way about her. And she is honestly the most selfless woman I’ve ever met.

Katherine had an incredible passion for Austria, for the people, the city and the language. I have always thought German was a horribly ugly language, but hearing it out of Katherine’s mouth it was quite poetic. It was fascinating and really beautiful. I had the best time going around Vienna listening to her talk about the buildings, and the history. When she’d point out the best gelato shops, or street corners where she met lovely people and/or talked about the gospel, I couldn’t help but smile!

We got lost frequently, we were tired all the time, and we missed trains, and went without food and got stuck in very difficult and/or incredibly annoying situations. But because of these marvelous people, there was not a moment I regret. They turned our misfortunes into memories. And I loved learning from them.

On our way from Bratislava to Vienna, we stopped for Lunch. An elderly couple from Katherine’s mission made us the best meatloaf concoction I’ve ever experienced, plus chocolate mouse, ice cream and berries for dessert! This couple, Brother and Sister B, spoke very little English, and I speak absolutely no German. I marveled at the love that this couple had for us; we were strangers in their home, strangers to their country, and to their language, and they took us in for the afternoon, and took care of us like we were their own children. I saw a German hymn book on the piano, and requested that we sing a hymn or two; music we all had in common. The piano was out of tune, we were all singing in different keys, and half of us were singing in German and the other half in English. Even though we probably sounded awful, there was a sense of familiarity, of peace. Music is so powerful in bringing people together, we understood the meaning of the words and notes we were singing, across the borders of language. Then we hugged, and said “danke schoen” about a hundred times, and went on our way.

Sister B gave a talk in church the next day. And while I could not understand it, obviously it was in German, I could feel her sweet presence, and the spirit of her words. Katherine translated to us after. Sister B had said something to the effect of this: she and her husband had just moved into their new apartment, after having lived in their other house for over 30 years. They were having trouble finding friendly neighbors, and adjusting. Then she talked about the four girls who came to visit them. She said when we sang Hymns, she felt like a little piece of home. That she was grateful to the Lord for sending us to them. I was so moved. I marveled at the fact that we were so incredibly grateful for their kindness, and here Sister B was, thanking God for us.

Even though we couldn’t understand one another, there was just a distinct mutual feeling of adoration and care for our new friends. We loved them, and they loved us. When we left, Sister B said in broken English, “I wish, with all my heart, happiness and

joy for you in your life.” I was moved near tears.

Thank you, Katherine, Kelsey, and Aileen. I could not have asked for a more MARVELOUS trip.  

Cambridge Chronicles: Finals treat--Vienna!

We began our journey to at 4:15 Saturday morning! I’m sure Katherine loved seeing my perky face that early as we shuffled to make sure we had our passports/wallets/visa letter to get back into the UK…you know, all of those little details necessary to travel across borders!  We booked it to our travel mates’ apartment, where Kelsey had knocked on Aileen’s door and got no response. So the three of us stared at each other in early-morning-foggy-brained panic, and knocked obnoxiously on her window until Aileen came to the door, probably (and rightfully) annoyed. (But Aileen is way too nice to say anything.)

We finally got on our train to London. A hop, skip, jump, and a Ryanair plane ride later, we were in Bratislava. For those of you who don’t know—which included me about a week ago— Bratislava is in Slovakia.

Security to get into the London airport was super duper friendly. I got a nice pat down. A very thorough inspection. Seriously, I am A) really ticklish, and B) generally uncomfortable with people touching every inch of me. But the woman was not sympathetic to my awkward cringes. It probably took twice as long because she didn’t think I was funny.

When we finally landed, they shuffled us off of the plane and onto a bus. THAT whole process probably took 15 minutes. Then they drove the bus about 20 feet,  a 30-second drive, and had us all get off.

Rolling our eyes at the inefficiency of this system, we then stood through a line at customs: “Other Passports” while we watched the people in the “EU Passport” line zip by us at least four times faster. No matter! We would soon have a very romantic “Slovakia” stamp in our passports! (Even though we were going to Austria)

If we weren’t already exhausted enough from the stress of finals the day before, we also decided to stay up really late to watch the Olympic opening ceremonies! Wholly intelligent? probably not so much. WE WERE EXHAUSTED. We were drunk silly on fatigue. So everything was really, really funny.

We got a car at the Bratislava airport. A small, beautiful, peach of a car:

A Panda.

Yes. The model of the car was a “Panda.” We fondly named him “Narwhal the Panda.” Probably couldn’t explain that one if I tried. We spent way too long in the rental car parking lot figuring out how to put Narwhal into reverse. And then finally, we were on the ROAD TO VIENNA!

On the way we laughed and laughed and laughed and screamed (when Kat pulled a perfectly maneuvered u-turn before the border to Hungary) but then laughed some more.

Every phrase out of Kelsey’s mouth is a clever fountain of understated hilarity. We made funny faces of mutual understanding of not understanding as German flung around us.