Cremation stories in Birmingham and other adventures of the last week or so…

Thursday, I wrote the qualifying test that allows me to continue into the second year of my degree.

I spent Friday studying a bit for a presentation I have in a couple of weeks [that is 10% of my final IR mark], and then went to Birmingham to catch up with Natalia, a great friend from France that I met while on a German lit. course a few years ago. Birmingham was great – I very much liked the city, and I couldn’t help but notice how Marxist and industrialist the architecture was – long, factory chimneys everywhere [even as a highlight of the University of Birmingham], terra cotta red bricks, very geometric, symmetrical buildings adorned with sickles, hammers, miners, hardworking members of the proletariat, etc. You get the point. So different from Oxford!

As Nat and I walked back to the bus station on Saturday afternoon, I realized my left foot was hurting [I just found out that I have a sprained ligament]. It was all a result of Nat’s courageous French quest to find all the cute and edgy restaurants in town. We dined at a place called the Warehouse Cafe [check out their menu online], and had lunch the next day at Handmade Burger Co, which, I just found out, is a chain [see here]. I had the cajun burger, and by the time I finished eating it, I wanted to have another one – it was really good [they claim their meat comes from cows fed grass in natural conditions, without any chemicals, maybe that's why it tasted so good].

At the bus station, a hippy-looking couple, returning from Scotland, where they clearly spent their holiday camping out [they had huge bags, the ones you stuff tents in]. The woman, with a shaved head, , wearing six earrings on each ear and sporting a small, wallet-like purse made of hemp, and showing off her sky blue shorts, asks me if I’ve come from as far as her and her boyfriend. I smile and say “No, I just came from Oxford.” She adds, “I’m from Oxford! Where are you from?” – “North America.” – “I have some music from Indian Americans in my backpack.” – (smile) – “Is she your girlfriend?” – (smile) – “My husband died ten years ago. He was thirty-five years older than me. You know what killed him? Smoking. And funny, he smoked himself to death, and then wanted to be cremated. On the same day, I had barbequed chicken, which might as well be cremated. It was all about smoking up that day! (laughs) – (I don’t know how to react, so I turn to Nat).

She goes on: “But now I’m vegetarian. I don’t eat meat. I don’t even eat his meat (points at her boyfriend…The man blushes). And you?” I turn away once again. As I enter the bus and I settle in my seat, I overhear her story about the cremation again: She’s telling it to the people opposite her seat. Great memory from Birmingham!

I’ve spent the last few days counting the hours before I get my marks. Now I’m indifferent and sort of think I don’t want to know anymore [I really do, but I don’t want to think about it anymore…).

did I mention that I like the fact that cash machine withdrawals in Britain are free? It’s great!

Oh, I also just learned how to say “wha’eva” in English accent…

Things I’m enjoying in Oxford

A friend, flatmate (yes, I’ve switched from “roommate” to “flatmate”), and fellow Rhodie posted a note on Facebook today, quoting the following things as the things she likes about Oxford: “trains, no atm fees, crocuses, crumpets, snowdrops, snowfights, rolling green hills, warm custard, dreaming spires, vegetarian food everywhere, cream tea, tea breaks in lecture, tea breaks after dinner, tea breaks anytime, really quincentenniary anything.”

There are many things I’ve grown to like in Oxford. Among the many and perhaps the best is the amazing, pink-orange-red sunset that reminds me how fortunate and privileged I am to be here.

In no particular order, I am really enjoying the following things about Oxford:

Going to random cultural theme nights – In the last four weeks, there’s been a Jazz Night, Indian Society Night, Aussie Night, Brazilian Night, etc. etc.;

Meeting people who know what I mean when I quote arbitrary arrests, detentions, extrajudicial executions, etc. It’s amazing how much time it saves in a discussion. This point also goes well with:

Discussing the problems of the world at dance parties;

Meeting people who vehemently disagree with my idea of the problems in the world. It’s great to have your views challenged by people who are truly convinced in their views and have the intellectual capabilities to back it up;

Searching for practically any book on history, politics, or diplomacy of the Balkans and finding out that a copy is available somewhere in Oxford;

Hearing the locals complain about the weather – It makes me feel slightly nostalgic, but mostly happy to be here, where 5 degrees Celsius is verging on cold.

Having everything I’ve learned until now challenged in ways I never thought possible – Most of the time, I feel like I know very little, when professors challenge my thoughts and knowledge. I turn red, take note, and rush home to research what I just heard. Whoever said it was right – Oxford is the place where your best is not good enough;

Being able to bike everywhere I want and knowing that there IS a bike lane for it. There is much respect for cyclists here, or, put another way, proportionately more respect than in St. John’s;

Attending talks by experts in all sorts of fields in a room with only 20 other people. In the last five months, I’ve heard Richard Dawkins, Mohammed Younnis, Joachim Ruecker, Chris Patton. I missed out on Joschka Fischer and Gordon Brown;

Having the chance to apply for travel scholarships aimed at helping my “self-discovery”;

Hearing Brits talking when in centretown (another one – no more “downtown”) – Add good grammar (not a big thing here, surprisingly), and you have an amazing combination…

…more to come.