Where to start, where to start . . . it's been a hectic month and I'll try to go in something of a chronological order to keep track of things. Given that, I should start with the Shabbat dinner at Ian and Joyce's place to which I was invited on Dec. 10th. I can't believe that after all my years in Hillel (as treasurer and secretary nonetheless) I had never actually been to a Shabbat dinner. But Ian and Joyce offered to rectify that, and we were also joined by their son Andrew and his wife Martine. The experience was marvelous and the whole family is perfectly lovely. Ian did the blessing over the bread and the "blessing of the children," and then we sat down for the actual dinner itself. Joyce prepared a very traditional meal, with the first course consisting of egg salad, liver, pickles and some other veggies, and the previously blessed challah. Apparently that's Andrew's favorite course. Next came matzo ball/chicken soup which was very nice, and then the main course was chicken with roasted potatoes. The potatoes were absolutely amazing, definitely some of the best I've ever had. They were cut into large wedges, crispy and brown on the outside and very soft and mellow on the inside. Simply delicious. It was a very nice dinner with lots of lively accompanying conversation, and it was nice to be in a "home" atmosphere again for a while. Granted, the flat is starting to kind of feel like home, but it's not quite the same thing. But it was a really great experience and I'm very grateful that I was invited to take part.
Every year during December, Manchester hosts several Christmas Markets, where vendors from different countries in Europe set up for about three weeks or so and sell their wares and things to the Mancunians. The closest one to us was under the Town Hall, in Albert Square, and I set off to go take a look at it a couple days after the dinner at Ian and Joyce's. It really was very nice, and in some ways reminded me of the county fair but with a lack of livestock (although there was a large reindeer head singing German Christmas songs perched on top of the Bierhaus). Most of the vendors were from Germany and the Netherlands, and they were selling things like traditional food and handicrafts, as well as a lot of beer and mulled wine. I'd never had hot mulled wine before and elected to try it - it was one of the best hot drinks I've ever had. It was really sweet and had been cut with orange juice with spices added, and was really hot. I don't think anyone would really drink it to get drunk; it was far too hot to do anything but sip. There were so many vendors selling different variations of it, and the whole place smelled great with sausage and bratwurst and strudel. I spent a good deal of time just walking around and looking at the different stalls and such, and did a fair bit of Christmas shopping there. They had Christmas music playing, a giant lighted Santa . . . it was all very festive and quite nice. I visited a few of the other markets as well but the Albert Square one was by far the best and I think it was the main one.
One afternoon after a trip to the markets I decided to finally take a walk along the canal that runs underneath and perpendicular to Oxford Road. I've looked at it a number of times and always meant to take a look down that way but somehow never did, so that afternoon I decided that I was going to. It turns out that you can walk down it quite a long way in both directions; I ended up in Castlefield without fully realizing it. It's really nice down by the canal though, and surprisingly quiet - it's almost like you're not in the city at all. There are some areas that you can't see any other people, really, and you can't even hear cars. It was a refreshing break from the bustle of the city at large and quite picturesque. It also helped me see a little bit more how the roadways all connect and gave me a better idea of what's where. I think I'm starting to get the hang of the navigation thing around here. I also was able to find the Manchester Cathedral all by myself after driving past it with Ian when he took me home from the Shabbat dinner. It's really beautiful but I couldn't see past the entrance very well because there was a giant Christmas tree blocking the way. Now that the Christmas season has passed I'll try going back to take a look hopefully unobstructed by large flora.
I'm also happy to report that the dreaded Hebrew exam is over and done with. I actually think it went pretty well, although probably I shouldn't say that until I get the results. I seemed to feel better about it than most of my classmates, although that might just be because I had built it up in my mind to be this horrible behemoth and when it wasn't that bad I was pleasantly surprised, while my others hadn't built it up that much and thus were taken aback. I do wish we had a little more time though - even with the extra time that the professor gave us I just barely finished it and I wasn't dawdling by any means. I have to wait another few weeks for the results but I feel pretty good about it.
Carlos and I went to go and get lunch one afternoon and he took me to this Middle Eastern place he had found called Sadaf. He said that they had amazing chicken and rice, and he wasn't lying - it was really good. But it was so much food - it was like the never-ending rice bowl. No matter how much I ate, there was just more and more rice. It was good long grained brown rice, but I could only eat so much of it. It was a really good deal for the price though - 4.90 and you could easily get two meals out of it, if not three. He, Ada, and I also went out for a late-night snack one evening soon thereafter and they started exchanging horror stories of being mugged and held at gunpoint . . . all I could say was "Ye Gods." It was incredible. I've never met a civilian who was held at gunpoint even once, and then they're tossing off multiple stories of these crazy incidents that just left me with my jaw hanging. It was incredible. Through the course of this discussion, however, I learned that you apparently can't ever really trust the Mexican police to do anything if you're mugged because the muggers probably paid them off. After our discussions of worldwide criminality, we talked extensively about the British Culture of Obstruction and vented our increasing frustration with the "customer service" industry. We agreed that probably the most commonly heard phrase (as well as the most annoying one) during our stay besides "Y'all right love?" is "I'm sorry . . ." in response to asking someone a question or if they can do something for you that, by all rights, they certainly should be able to do. It's funny, 'cause we were talking about this at Ian's and he said, "There was this show, and in it there was a guy who ran a hotel, and every time a guest asked for something simple he'd fly off the handle and yell at them and just go crazy - he and everyone else running the place were completely incompetent. It's kind of like the country at large." He was, of course, referring to Basil Fawlty of "Fawlty Towers" who I know very well and love very much, and although Basil is an exaggeration, he's not as far off as you'd think. It's a scary thought. Honestly though (and I don't mean this as a blanket statement against the British, because the people have all been very friendly; it's just the service people and customer representatives and bureaucrats and people trying to "help" you get anything done that frustrate us), it's like people go out of their way to make life more difficult. Something that would take them 30 seconds to do that would make your life immensely easier always seems to be completely out of the question - "I'm sorry . . ." Starting from the first day with Scary Lady at our reception (for the two days it was actually open), this has been a consistent trend. You should hear the trouble Ada went through to get her laptop - it was a nightmare and there was absolutely no reason for it to be (she's now on a crusade to get our postcode legitimized because apparently the town council hasn't ratified it or something and that's why it comes up in automated systems as not applicable and why I couldn't get the phone plan I wanted). It's just one thing after another. Before I got here, I had flirted with the idea of perhaps staying on and living here after I finished the course, but I've definitely decided that I'm not staying here once I'm done because I couldn't take the bureaucracy and this seemingly complete inability or unwillingness to offer basic assistance to people.
And on to happier things . . . we had decided to do a flat Christmas celebration and decided that we were going to do it on Christmas Eve. After much deliberation we decided that we wanted to do a Secret Santa gift exchange and then a dinner with movies afterward. We met a week before to draw names and Carlos, as our fearless leader, made the excellent suggestion that we should each write down three gift options along with our name (that were 10 pounds or less) so that people would have something to go on. We had a heck of a time trying to decide what to do about dinner, since we kind of wanted to go out somewhere but didn't want to spend too much money. We looked at several places but when we tried to make reservations they were all booked, so finally Carlos had another brilliant idea - Sadaf, Land of the Never Ending Rice Bowl! He called up and found out that they were open until 4 am Christmas Eve (although at that point it would have been Christmas morning) so we decided that we'd just get take out from there and eat at the flat. It ended up working out really well - we got about 8 orders of the really good chicken and rice and the boys carted it back and we had a lovely dinner with Christmas music in the background, courtesy of Kenny G (which Fauzan, much to my surprise, immediately recognized; apparently he doesn't have much of an Indonesian following but Fauzan is a fan). After dinner we drew up the couches and decided to watch "The Bucket List" which was surprisingly good. We then watched "The Hangover" and then "Madagascar 2." Good times, good times. It really was nice, and in the end it didn't matter where we were or what we did as long as we were hanging out together in our little flat family. I'd even though of writing a poem to the meter of "The Night Before Christmas/A Visit From St. Nicholas" about us, but I didn't get very far:
"'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even the rat."
That's all I had; maybe one of these days I'll think about trying to expand on it. But it was a very nice evening, and I was very glad we did it. And in case anybody was curious, Nithya ended up being my Secret Santa, and got me a copy of Dostoyevsky's "Crime and Punishment" :D
Ada, Carlos, and I had another very interesting experience a few nights before Christmas. There was a knock on the flat door and, thinking that Avi had forgotten his keys and locked himself out again, I went and opened it. Two students, a girl and a boy, were standing there and they introduced themselves as theology students and said they wanted to ask me a couple questions for a class. I figured that they had to do a survey or something and said sure, 'cause at Elmira kids were always doing that kind of thing to get the samples they needed, and it was pretty common to get a knock on your door like that. So the girl asked me, "Do you have any religion?" I replied that I didn't really, although non-practicing Christian might do for the purposes of the conversation. She spoke very, very quickly - in fact, I've never heard English being spoken faster than she managed to speak it, and she had a very strong Chinese accent. Then she asked me if I knew anything about Passover. I told her I did and then she asked if I knew about not the Jewish Passover, but a different Passover in the New Testament. I told her I didn't, and then at that point Ada came out of the kitchen and walked down the hall toward us. Later she told me that at first, she thought the girl was speaking Chinese because she was talking so fast and when she saw me listening and nodding she thought, "Wow, I didn't know Kate understands Chinese! I gotta check this out." So Ada joined us, and then this girl asked if we'd be interested in listening to a presentation about this Passover. I still thought it was for a class, so I said okay and we led them down to the kitchen. Carlos was in there doing dishes and we sat them down and they whipped out a tiny DVD player and started up this disc. Apparently there's some passage in the New Testament that says that we need to practice some kind of Passover to avoid death when the world ends. The girl talked on and on about the number of ways the world could end at any second and enumerated the natural and man-made disasters that had been befalling us lately, and the DVD showed accompanying images of the world exploding, people dying fiery deaths, etc. I was sort of hoping for some of that atomic test stock footage used in the '50s monster movies all the time, but no such luck. Anyway, the girl kept talking and talking (very, very quickly) about the need for this Passover and that we would all die horrible deaths if we didn't start practicing it, and it became apparently that they were not there for a class, but to convert us somehow into Passover-practitioners. The girl never stopped talking and the guy never spoke at all - he just stared at us with a very solemn look on his face, nodding slowly as if to emphasize the fact that yes, we would all die probably tomorrow if we didn't take advantage of this. Finally this presentation came to its end and the girl asked us if we'd be interested in learning more about and participating in the Passover right then. Trying to be diplomatic, I said that although it sounded very interesting I wasn't interested right at the moment but would get back to them if I changed my mind. The other two echoed my sentiments and we graciously showed them the door. Apparently they'd already converted 150 people and do this for an hour every day. They left with the sort of sanctimonious looks that said, "Well, when the building collapses tomorrow and you're all squished by falling 2x4s, don't say with didn't warn you." As soon as they left, there was a good bit of laughter. But the craziest thing is that Ada told me they came back a couple days later just to double check and make sure we hadn't changed our minds. Very persistent. Ada asked at one point if they were Jehovah's Witnesses; I'm beginning to wonder if she wasn't as far off the mark as I first thought.
Despite all of these fun happenings, the best of all was the trip home that commenced on the 26th and that everybody managed to keep secret from my parents until I was back in the US. They definitely were taken by surprise and I'm shocked that everyone managed to keep their silence what with all the people who ended up knowing by the time I actually got there. The whole trip took place mostly without incidence, except I don't think the taxi I booked ever actually showed up; I ended up taking another one that happened to be passing by and he said that the one I reserved probably had forgotten and sure enough, they never called or anything. But I did make it to the airport, and I didn't encounter any trouble until I actually got to New York at JFK. Apparently it's very suspicious if you go on an international flight and don't take a check through bag; I just had my carry-on since I was going home only for a week and we do have a washing machine. Once we landed we were funneled through Customs and then out to Baggage Claim where the exit also was. When I tried to leave the guy said that the flight's bags hadn't come through yet and I said that I didn't have any. He got this suspicious look on his face and said, "Lemme see your paperwork." So I handed it over and told him that I was a student just going home for a week, and then he wrote something on a sheet of paper, handed it to me, and told me to go see a guy on the other side of the room. So over I went, and I gave him all my stuff and said I'd been sent over by the guy guarding the exit. This guy looked at my papers and said, "So, you're on an international flight and you only have this bag?" "Yes sir. I'm only going home for a week and we have washing facilities." I mean, it's not like a just had a little purse thing; that carry-on fits a decent amount of stuff. It's practically a suitcase all in itself. But the guy looked at me, looked at my papers, and said, "Well we're just gonna have to take a look in here." Fine, go ahead and do what you want. After a few minutes of pawing through my stuff and flinging my underwear on the search table he told me I was free to leave. I was met outside by my ever-so-marvelous boyfriend Sam, who managed to switch around his vacation time to spend the week with me, and we headed up to Poughkeepsie. The original plan was that we'd go to Poughkeepsie and Tess would pick us up and drive us home, but the weather prevented her from doing so and we ended up having to stay the night in Poughkeepsie. We actually got incredibly lucky weather-wise: NY was having quite a snowstorm and the 9 am and 11 am flights from Manchester to JKF were canceled. Mine was at 10 am and was the only one to get through. I think we were also the last Metro-North train to get through before the shut it down due to snow accumulation. We caught the news the next morning to see all the NY and NJ area airports and train lines completely shut down due to snowfall. Tess wasn't comfortable driving in the snow (which I certainly couldn't blame her for) so I ended up calling Mom and asking her to pick us up. She was quite surprised to hear that I was not in England as she had thought, but 2 hours south. But from that point on, everything went without a hitch and it was great to get home in front of a fire and spend a week with the family and some friends. I got to see Em, Jesse, and Aunt Debbie, so I was definitely happy about that, and we did a miniature Thanksgiving dinner which Aunt Ann and Uncle Ed were able to come up for so I got to see them too, and Gram of course. Dan and Molly also stopped by for an afternoon which was a lot of fun. It went far too quickly and it's gonna be a long nine months, but I feel like it'll go faster than I think. Coming back here was also hassle-free flight-wise although when I entered England I didn't have to go through Immigration or Customs or anything; this might be because I had already passed through EU Immigration when I landed in Dublin but I was still a foreign national entering a different sovereign country . . . but what do I know? I went to a desk and asked about it and was just told that if I hadn't been directed there, then they didn't need to see me. So, as per instruction, I left, but I have a weird suspicion that there's no record of me re-entering England. I guess we'll see what that means later on.
Now that I'm back, I shall turn my focus to finishing up my papers and then perhaps doing some pleasure reading in the free week we have between due dates and the start of classes, or maybe taking a day trip somewhere fun. We're still trying to organize a flat trip to Scotland, and although I'm not sure when that's happening it's something to look forward to at some point. Stay tuned . . .
