"We'll bring masala!"

As of yesterday, I have been here exactly a month, and what better way to celebrate than by taking a trip to London?  Granted, the timing was simply coincidental, but it still seems appropriate.  My trip to London to meet up with Andrew was great, even though we only had about an hour together before he had to fly back to Ireland with the rest of his class.  The train systems, stations, and ticket purchasing facilities were all really easy to use and I got there with no trouble whatsoever.  The ride through the countryside to get there was amazing - it was so beautiful.  I saw hedgerows and fields containing cows, sheep (I kept expecting to see Babe, even though I know he was Australian), horses, geese, the works.  It was so quaint and absolutely lovely; I definitely hope to see more of that while I'm here.  I know people say that countryside is countryside everywhere you go, but I still love it and think there's a difference between American countryside, British countryside, Polish countryside, etc.

It took about two hours and 15 minutes or so to get to London, and Andrew met me at the station.  Since we had so little time before he had to leave, he took me down to Westminster station, where Big Ben, Parliament, and Westminster Abbey are located; it's kind of like the main tourist hub.  We did a very brief look around there and then I went back to his hotel with him to meet his friends, and then I took the underground partway with them on their way to the airport so I could get back to Westminster.  I was relieved at how easy the underground is to navigate - it's so easy a caveman (or directionally-impaired American) can do it.  I spent a while wandering around that main area and saw the main things there - Big Ben, the Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, etc.  It was gorgeous - pictures really don't do any of it justice.  It's just so impressive.  Because it was so late in the day by the time I got back there I couldn't go inside anything, but that just gives a really good reason for a return trip.  After poking around that area, I took a walk down the Thames, which is also right there.  I came across a monument to the Battle of Britain, and saw the London Aquarium from across the river.  I then went over a bridge and spent some time walking down the other side toward St. Peter's Cathedral, although I didn't make it all the way down there this time (partly because it got dark quite fast, and I'd like to actually see it in daylight).  But the walk along the river was quite nice, and I saw the National Theatre which apparently has tons of plays and stuff.  I grabbed some food along the river, and then headed back to the Westminster area proper, and by that time everything had been lit up, which was incredible.  It was packed with people taking pictures, even in the dark.  It was well worth it.  Eventually I headed back to the train station for the trip home.  An interesting thing about British train stations (and the underground) - there are no garbage cans or trash receptacles anywhere except the bathrooms (which you have to pay to get into, so you sure as heck don't go in just to throw stuff out).  I was puzzling over this but Andrew said that it was because back when the Irish were unhappy, they would hide bombs in the railway/underground garbage cans, so to eliminate that problem they've just eliminated the trash cans.  But at the very least I think they could make them clear or hang a plastic bag or something; they now have a problem with people littering and just leaving their garbage all over because there's truly no place to put it.

So all in all, it was a really nice day, but I'll definitely have to do it again because there's so much I didn't get a chance to see.  Top of the list for next time is the wreckage of the fake Rudolf Hess's plane at the Imperial War Museum, although if I go with my flatmates as a road trip that might be a hard sell . . . I got back to Manchester at 12:30 am and ended up taking a cab back to the University because there's no direct bus line that goes from the station to the Uni. and after 10 pm the buses become somewhat inconsistent and it can take up to half an hour waiting for one to show up (this is what happened to Kola and me when we went to Asda).  I didn't really want to walk because to get to the station you have to go through some darkish, semi-sketchy places and while I'm perfectly willing to do it during the day, I wasn't thrilled about the prospect of doing it at night by myself.  If it had just been a straight shot down Oxford Road I wouldn't have minded, but not through the other parts.  So although it ended up costing a little more, it was okay.  Pictures of the trip are available at this link; copy and paste it into the browser:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2039229&id=71701775&l=584281bea2

When I got back I ran into Irene, Fauzen, and Avi hanging out in the hall; apparently they had just gotten back from a full-dorm evacuation fire drill and when I walked in they decided it would be fun to tell me that something in my room had started it while I was gone.  I bought it at first, but then after Avi said something about it being my hair dryer I cottoned on, since I don't have one of those.  It turns out it was a girl on the 14th floor who decided it would be a really good idea to smoke in her room.  Fauzen had actually just gotten back from a class trip to Wales, so we spent a while chatting about our respective adventures and then went to bed.  This morning when I woke up, I heard voices out in the hall and when I poked out to see who it was, it was Avi, Nithya, and Ada, and Nithya immediately pulled me in to have breakfast with them.  She said that they would make me something called maki (I think?), which turned out to be Indian raman noodles.  They're actually much better than American raman noodles - far more spicy and far less salty.  The four of us had a marvelous conversation about politics and culture, and Ada explained the history of the current Nigerian political and social situation and the issues between the north and the south of the country.  Apparently "her people" as she put it, were the ones who fought for Biafran secession during the 1960s civil war.  After that, Avi asked me what most Americans think of when they think of India, and the most educated answer I could give was, "Technology and computer support, dowry, and bride burning."  When I mentioned bride burning, a.k.a. dowry death, his eyes lit up and he exclaimed, "Oh, good!"  When the rest of us looked at him with raised eyebrows he explained that he meant he was glad the rest of the world was paying attention to it because it was such a terrible thing.  But he had us rather confused for a minute, haha.

After that the conversation turned toward lighter topics, such as traditions and pastimes in our respective countries, and after a while Avi turned to me and said, "Kate, I've heard that in America there's a tradition in which small groups of maybe four or five people go out in the woods or the wilds together, and they don't bring anything with them except a small folding house.  They stay there for a week or so and they have to catch fish if they want to eat anything.  Is it true??"  I had to try very hard not to chuckle and explained that it was called "camping," and that yes, Americans do that sometimes.  It sounded so bizarre when he put it like that; it reminded me of the semi-famous article "Body Rituals of the Nacirema," where a sociologist or someone wrote an article about American toiletries and medicines but from a completely different point of view to make us sound like a new civilization. 

This question about camping led us into a discussion of camping, and what exactly one usually brings, what you do for food, if animals are likely to eat you, etc.  Avi is now very keen on coming to the US and trying out this camping thing just for the experience.  At some point as we were discussing this, Nithya got a call on her phone and went into the hall while Avi, Ada, and I carried on the conversation.  As we were talking about the food aspect, he said after a while, "Well, we'll bring masala and that will take care of everything."  "Masala" is the Tamil word for spices, i.e. practically the main ingredient in every Indian dish.  Nithya came back and as she did, Avi got a call and went into the hall.  Nithya as well was asking about the food and stuff, and after talking about cooking fish she said, "Well we'll bring masala and then we can handle anything."  Ada and I roared with laughter that masala had been the first thing on both of their minds.  Apparently Indians know exactly what their priorities are, or at least the ones I live with do.  Don't get between these two and their spices; it won't end well. 

Classes continue to go well, although I really wish Hebrew would write out vowels, or at least use pointed text all the time.  It makes reading very difficult, although I guess it gets easier as you go on.  The book we're using has no English except the glossary (and it also has a Hebrew/Russian glossary, which makes me happy; I miss Russian quite a bit), and I think they give you pointed text the first time a word shows up but after that you just have to remember what vowels go where.  It's gonna be fun.  We got a new student in the class last week though - a Nigerian Jewish guy.  I wasn't aware that Nigeria had a Jewish community, and neither were any of the Nigerians I've asked about it so far (I almost can't believe that I actually know multiple Nigerians whom I can ask).  He seems like a very nice guy though, so I think I can probably ask him if we could have a chat about it sometime.  He goes by Elizar - his real name is something with multiple syllables and multiple "O"s that people apparently have a lot of trouble pronouncing, so he just goes by Elizar to save time.  That happens a lot among Chinese students; they just take an English name they like because English speakers can't make many Chinese sounds properly (example: the two Chinese girls we went to the Erasmus party with, Valerie and Michelle, and Richard from EC).  I think I could probably manage Elizar's real name if it was spelled out, but Elizar works just fine.  I saw him again while I was walking to the train station yesterday and he was indeed wearing a yarmulke (and getting strange looks from passersby because of it).  But I'm very curious to learn more about Nigeria's Jewish community, now that I know there is one there.