Tumultuous Days

I must admit, I'm a little bit calmer than I was yesterday. I was in red alert, full klaxon freak-out. After being snuffed by yet another English bank, it was looking like I was gonna have to make 35 pounds stretch out over roughly 9 days. The situation was not very pretty. Fortunately the calvary showed up with some quick thinking on my parents part and the fact that I, fortunately, brought my ATM card with me to England. Whew! No more beans and toast. At least, not unless I feel like eating beans and toast.

I'm two days worth of classes in, yet I've only really had Chinese classes so far. If there's one thing I'm learning, it's that everyone knows more Mandarin than I do. I think I can catch up, but it's gonna be a Cinderella story. I've got a lot of vocabulary to learn and I need to effectively boost my comprehension and speaking level by effectively a year's worth of Mandarin Chinese. I know I can do this. It's just gonna be a bit taxing. But I didn't fly over here just for holiday.

I also realized that my Philosophy of Social Sciences (Read: Geography) class doesn't start 'till October 13th. Got lotsa time to prep for that one.

It's been a hellish couple of days, starting to adapt to this new scholastic environment, but there are a few things that play into my favor.

1. The resources here are outta this world. We are way beyond Mary Washington at this point. If I need to go to the library, I gotta decide which one. Need to use the cartography lab? Again, I gotta decide which one I wanna make maps in. There is way more literature at my fingertips and facilities are much nicer. For instance, the library that houses the Mandarin Chinese dictionary has no stairs. It's just a big Frackin' spiral!

This building here on the right is what I'm talking about. (You know, the big Frackin' spiral!)

This is it: The building in which I learn more of the Chinese language. It looks like something some kid built out of LEGO's, but the interior is actually pretty nice.

So I'm slowly adapting to this new lifestyle. It helps when there is a Subway right down the street though. A little taste of home, right in my own neighborhood. (Some of the English things you can put on your sub over here: Baked Beans, Chicken Tikka Masala and Corn) Also in my neighborhood are a few pubs, a hair salon, a couple of Chippies (I'll post some pictures of standard chippie fair eventually.) and an Indian restaurant. There's also a grocery story, a fresh produce outlet and a bakery, as well as a Pizza Hut. But who the heck goes to England to eat Pizza Hut?

Other than that, nothing too interesting has happened to me lately, due to lack of funds/lack of inclination to go do stupid things. Let us hope that the former subsides and the latter remains constant. I suppose it's for the best that my life only becomes so interesting, anyway. I don't want to show up on the Ten O' Clock news. At least, not yet.

So chip-chip-cheerio from fabulous Nottin'em.

- Jonathan "Half of My Uni' Looks Like an M.C. Escher Drawring" Trenary

Day 11 in the Most Surveiled Place on Earth.

I'm not sick anymore, but I've another issue. I've entered into what my flatmate, Jay, referred to as a "budget crisis." After opening an account with Nat West a week ago, I'm still waiting for the account to actually open. Between buying groceries and necessary amenities for my living over here, I'm down to a perturbingly low level of liquid funds. (I've even suspended the option of "Going Out" from my activity roster. The fellow at the bank tells me I'll have to wait 'till Monday before my account is open.

I'm starting to get a wee bit tired of being jerked around by the banks over here.

In other news: England is the most watched place on the face of the planet. I'm willing to bet that there is more surveillance here per capita than in any other country on Earth.

Here is What I mean:

This is the camera that is mounted on the side of the building that I live in. It keenly watches the gated entrance to the apartment complex I live in.

These are two of the cameras mounted to my building that watch the street outside of my apartment complex.

This is another camera that watches the street I live on. It's mounted to a Toyota dealership.

To the right is a camera mounted to the same wall on the same building. It appears to be watching the second story, for some reason. (You can actually see the camera from the picture to the left in the picture below as well.)

This is the pub that is 100 yards away from my flat. It too has a camera. Apparently, those flowers can get up to some pretty suspicious activity.

This is evidently the only building in Britain that doesn't have security cameras mounted to it.

The cameras must be effective. Here is an article my buddy Alfred posted on his Faceboo page that cites a recent 25% decrease in Nottingham crime: http://www.nottinghamcity.gov.uk/index.aspx?articleid=7067 . That's exceptionally funny because I definitely walked past two girls openly sharing a marijuana cigarette at a bus stop today. How do I know it was marijuana and not a rolled cigarette? It smelled funny. That's how I know. I smell it all the time here. It's not because I smoke it either. Seems the rest of the nation does, though. Ironically, with everyone in Britain being stoned, they still walk faster than me.

I got outpaced by an obese man today. I feel really slow over here.

Another strange, British bit of tid. Canadian geese are everywhere in this city. I kinda want to know how the hell all these Canadian geese got over here. Did they get lost? Maybe they should have taken a compass and a map when the flock decided to make it's yearly sojourn south from Canada. They missed the mark by a lot. I know it was the fault of the geese, because no sane person would actually import those birds anywhere. Heck, the Canadians kick 'em out of their country every year. Damn birds still come back. To prove to you that I'm not making this up, I have taken a picture of Canadian geese in England:

Un-charasmatic mesofauna

Lastly, now that my assets have shrunk, you may be asking yourself, "JT, what in the world are you eating now that you are poor." Well, here's a few more pretty pictures of my daily fare.

This

Becomes

This

You've all been a good audience. I'll be here all week. Try the veal cutlet, it's outta this world!

- Jonathan "I Gotta Feelin' Somebody's Watchin' Me" Trenary

September 23rd (Redux) Because I Could...

I know I posted earlier today, but I got to watching a really good video blog in my spare time, and it kinda inspired me to communicate with folks back home via video. Really I'm just trying to give you comprehensive media of me. Next time I'll scan some oil paintings of myself in Nottingham and after that...sketches.

September 23rd

I'm starting to feel a bit better, but I feel like I could still use some sleep. And I've got some damned persistent coughing. I have to leave in a bit to go to more induction...seminars, I guess would be the word for them. The safety one was actually quite fun. The safety officer for the geography building suggested that, "If there's a fire and you feel like having a go at the extinguisher, feel free. They're right fun!" I almost felt encouraged to start a fire just so that I could play with the extinguisher. Almost.

I've met my supervisor for my dissertation and he seems to be a nice fellow. He's very supportive and easy-going. It must not just be Virginian geographers that are like that. It's starting to seem like geographers everywhere are an easy going bunch. This bodes well for me so far. Additionally, my department seems genuinely happy to have me. I don't know what world I've walked into, where American geographers are so warmly received, but I LIKE IT. I haven't really met any of my fellow majors yet, but I'm sure I will soon enough. I wonder if geography students cut-up and fool around over here too...

As far as meeting people goes, I've met all of my flatmates. They're all splendid folk. The guy living across from me is Jay, who is from Holland, but speaks with a West London accent. The fellow next to me, Said, will be leaving soon, to go live with "some mates," but he seemed to be a nice enough fellow. Salim lives at the very end of the hall, across from the Kitchen. He's from the Manchester area and he talks really quickly, so I'm still getting used to his dialect. He made chicken for us all last night, which was rather kind of him. Lastly is Currin, who is generally quiet, but very well spoken and curious about things. Women would generally love him because of his Cracker Jack listening skills. They're all very nice folk, although I don't believe the volume of screaming or lunacy in this flat will near approach that which I experienced in Undergrad. Justin, you know damn well what I mean. Maybe it's for the best. Although, I'm hoping I can turn these fellows onto the stump game.

If you don't know what that is, here's a link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stump_(game)

Overall, I'm doing pretty well. The banking's going slower than expected, so I'm having to pinch my pennies. That's okay, though. It's best to get in that habit now, when I'm most tempted to spend than to learn the hard way. Although, I've always sort of ended up doing things the hard way anyway. Oh well. I'm doing a lion's share of walking about, and I've yet to find a decent pastie shop. I guess I can ask my adviser about that though. He's here to answer questions, right?

For my American Audience: This is the pastie I mean.

















Not these pasties





















I think most people reading this would be slightly perturbed if I were to indulge in the purchase of the booby pasties. But then again, this English weather does weird things to people.

By Friday I should think myself well enough to rejoin reindeer games.

And who knows... pasties might be involved.

Ta Ta For Now. Or Ta-Ta's For Now. Who knows?

-Jonathan "Have a Bite 'O Me Pasty" Trenary

September 21st

I'm started to get settled in, here in England. It hasn't rained once since I got here and September is supposed to be one of the UK's rainiest months. Tubular. The weather has been comfortably cool and, from what I hear, the temperature rarely drops below 32 degrees Fahrenheit or 0 degrees Celsius. It's one or the other. I'm not sure which.

The fun thing about being over is noticing the little nuances that make British society so different from the American society that I am accustomed to in the States.

1. The queue. It's wonder the British found it necessary to colonize most of the world. When the British rolled up into India/South Africa/Australia/North America/Yo' Mamma's House and found that the denizens placed nowhere near as much value in forming a straight orderly line as the Brits do, the fate of those peoples was sealed. The queue is a serious thing over here. You don't deviate, you don't form a mob and you CERTAINLY don't jump ahead in queue! Queue jumping alone will result in a stern scolding from several police constables and a two-week stint in the tower of London.

2. Alcoholism. The Brits, although trailing behind the Russians, are world class alcoholics. Well, in American senses in any case. Over here it's just a healthy predilection towards good ol' fashioned oat soda. In the states anyone who spent over thirty minutes in a bar every day either works there, is in a Ted Danson TV sitcom, or is an alcoholic. (The last two items are not mutually exclusive.) In fact, upon undergoing a health screening for University healthcare, I had to identify how much of an alcoholic I really was. They just wanted to find out whether or not I belonged on the island, I'm sure. In the defense of the British though they only have about 13 alcohol related deaths for every 100,000 whereas in the States we have about 3,000 for every 100,000. I guess the English are less prone to do stupid things after they drink. Like drive cars...

3. Walking. I often find myself walking much slower than most of the people around me. That's really no surprise. But here in England I feel like a rickshaw racing in the Indianapolis 500. People ZOOM past me! Partially I attribute this to my standard walking speed, which is "mosey." I don't think the British even use that one. It's like the equivalent to having a "churn" speed on your blender. It's there, but who uses it? Well I do, for one. If anyone wants to send me a t-shirt with the sign, "Give slow motorists a break." printed on the back, I would gladly wear it over here. At the same time, it seems like many of the English are in an unnecessary rush. I guess growing up in the country slows down one's turn of the leg.

I still haven't bought a plunger, but that's because I can't find one. Perhaps they don't plunge things here in England. If that's true though, they probably shouldn't have issued me a visa.

Other than being a little sick from (what I guess is) the Meningitis shot I received last week, things are pretty well on this side of the pond.

Take care of yourselves.

Don't forget to spay or neuter your pets.

- Jonathan "Probably never gonna be an fast-walkin', alcoholic, liner-upper" Trenary

September 19th

I am no longer homeless.

Nor am I any longer susceptible to meningitis.

I have a bank account, a phone, registration for both school and healthcare, as well as a little corner to call my own.

Yesterday was brutal. There was a lot of waiting in long lines/queues and little organization on the part of the University. In fact, as Luke pointed out, the registration for healthcare and the meningitis shot were the only well organized processes all week. (Oh, and I'm kind of an American hero for getting that Meningitis shot. The needle was HUGE!) I can only imagine what "fresher's week" will be like.

The really exciting subject is my new flat. Well, I call it a flat but it seems more like a single dorm room with its own bathroom. It's likely the smallest room I've ever lived in. No worries there though. I have the place to myself, so it's all gravy. I've yet to meet my flat mates because, honestly, I've yet to leave my room. I've been organizing everything and putting stuff away.

What a task.

This is my room. The walls are purple.

This picture to the left shows where I'll sit when I do work and stuff like that. Notice the well placed shelving unit.

Here to the right is the scenic vista that I may partake of any time that my eyes drift up from my computer screen to the window.

I made my bed. Not like manufacturing, but

more like tucking in sheets and the like.

I'm finding that space is really at a premium in this room, but I should be okay so long as I don't increase the quantity of items in my personal inventory by too much. Clothing storage, for example will not solely rely on drawers for pants, underwear, sweaters, socks, and tee-shirts. Instead, pants and sweaters are segregated (unfortunately) and are forced to live in the wardrobe with my jackets and collared shirts.

As you can see to the left, my pants and sweaters are

forced to cohabit on the top shelf of my wardrobe. The

socks accused them of shacking up, but the sweaters

insist that it's "Just until one of us can find another place."

To the right, here, is the common room for my

flat. We have two refrigerators which is nice.

This is the kitchen (attached to the common room.) The cabinets kinda smell like curry. But Hey! There's already a microwave oven. Bonus!

I'l probably post more pictures on here so long as I find stuff worthy of photographing. I hope the visual aids help. Now I have to go get lunch (I skipped breakfast.) and pick up some stuff. They UNITE housing people don't provide any toilet paper. They don't even give you an initial mercy roll; so if you're in bad shape when you show up, you better waddle somewhere else FAST. The flush power on this baby is pretty strong though. I should probably get a plunger anyway. Those of you that know me pretty well are probably fervently nodding your heads right now and mouthing the words, "Yes yes, for the love of god yes, buy a plunger!"

I also need cups and stuff.

So off I go to grab lunch and make a grocery list.

Catch you on the flip side.

- Jonathan "Just One Mercy Roll, Please" Trenary

September 18th

My feet really hurt.

This is because last night I accidently traversed the whole of central Nottingham. I wasn’t lost. I was exploring, I swear. The evening started out simply enough. The school crammed us internationals on a bunch of double-deckers and carted us down to this club called Oceana. I’m not much of a clubber, but whatever. I had a few drinks to take the edge off and climbed in the back of the bus with the Canucks. Real wild crowd back there, eh.

-Tangent-
I have found that any conversation I have with two or more Canadians will eventually evoke one phrase that is to be called loudly: ‘NO-TOUCH ICING!’ For those of you that are curious (I will not go into the particulars here) the difference between icing and NO-TOUCH ICING can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Icing_(ice_hockey)
The phrase is screamed as a means of honouring Don Cherry. He’s a Canadian anti-hero of sorts. This is what he looks like:

In addition to yelling about 'NO-TOUCH ICING,' Cherry also likes to comment on visors, the inferiority of Quebecois hocky players to English-speaking Canadian hockey players and talk about 'good Canadian bouys (boys).'
-End Tangent-

So, we got off the bus and made our way into Oceana. The place was packed. The bottom room was kinda like a discotheque. It was the kind of room where you might find John Travolta wearing a leisure suit and dancing the pants off of women. No lie. The second floor was more of an actual club with lazer lights and a fog machine and women in mini-skirts. The top floor was the most interesting because it looked like an Opium Den. I think the website for the club describes it as a 'Parisian Boudoir.' It was more like they had Quagmire for an interior decorator. Giggety-giggety.

Anyway. Alfred and I left the club and went across the street for the late night munchies. It wasn't a bad idea at the time, I swear. We chowed down and then, at my behest, went looking for 'that heavy metal bar' that I was hell-bent on finding. We instead, as we tried to make our way back to campus ended up swing to the far south of the city center. On the way we stumbled across not one, but two gay bars. Outside a woman was proudly trying to show her boobs to the street while a VERY TALL transvestite was trying to convince her to put them away. What a show.

As we walked some more we began to get away from the club area and into a more deserted part of town. As I said, we swung widely south (almost to the river) and came back up through a gated community. By the time we got back to campus it was three-o-clock in the ayyemm. As we walked back to our housing we found our way blocked by a wooden fence. In the Hot Fuzz tradition Alfred and I swung over it. Aberrating from the Hot Fuzz tradition, Alfred did not crash down on the fence and break it.

I kinda wish he had though.

Overall, it was a lot of walking and my feet still kinda hurt.

Mahalo y'all.

- Jonathan "Consistantly Ending Up at Gay Bars in Foreign Cities Does Not Make Me Gay" Trenary

September 16th

After being at the school for roughly one day, I’ve found some interesting people to hang out with. Most of them are Canadian. Some are American. It’s so early in the socialization process that it’s hard to tell who I’ll still be hanging out with months from now. There are two people that I can see myself socializing with for most of my tenure here as a student. Luke and John, although hailing from opposite ends of the country, are both exceptionally Canadian. I say this because they are both beer-drinkin’, hockey-lovin’ Canucks that can croon an alarming number of Canadian folksongs. Alfred is another Canuck I expect I will see around, although he is an exchange student and will not be around for more than a few months. I’ve also met a girl from New Jersey who seems to be on-the-level. She’s frank and straight to the point. Although it seems cliché to hang with other Americans whilst in Britain, she seems to be someone who will be good company to have around.

When we aren’t going to informational sessions, we’ve been drinking and meeting people. We tried going to karaoke last night, but it was pretty lame and so we ended up ordering drinks and meeting people. Interestingly enough, I’ve met two fellows who go to school in Virginia. Of which, one is actually Virginian like me. At the same time I met a girl from North Carolina who went to undergrad in Danville. In short, there are a lot more North Americans here than I thought there would be.

Sadly, we Americans are the quiet well behaved ones. Dispel all your American notions about our Neighbors to the North. The Canads party hardy.

The seminars on going to school here have been somewhat informative, but also tend towards the obvious. I guess Nottingham is just trying to cover its butt, and I can understand that. The introductory pamphlets here at the school have proven to be pretty entertaining. Here are some of the “UK Culture Top Tips” that they give us:

- Do stand in line: we like to form orderly queues and wait for our turn

- Do say ‘excuse me’ if someone is blocking your way.

- Do smile, people will respond, to start a conversation you can always talk about the weather

- Don’t talk loudly in the street or stare at someone

- Don’t queue jump, you will find you are suddenly very unpopular especially in shops or waiting for the bus

These seem to be par for the course. I feel that most students would know these things. I would think that if you are able to qualify for a UK education, you probably come from somewhere where queues/lines are standard things. I think it would be more informative for foreign students to learn things such as, ‘whenever ordering two of something, never hold up your index and middle finger and show the person the back of your hand. If you do so, you will find yourself unpopular at pub.’ ‘Never turn another person’s empty glass over,’ might be another useful lesson.

Perhaps American cultural similarities with the British taint my outlook, but then, many people here are Canadian or American, as I pointed out earlier.

As far as cultures go, people have mostly homogenized. Americans, Australians and Canadians tend to hang out together. (I haven’t met any New Zealanders yet. I have met someone from Mauritius though.) The Chinese cluster together and so do the South Asians. There are some breeches in this. I have met a few people from both of those groups. On the whole, though, people tend to segregate into comfort levels. I’m personally hoping to meet an all-star international class of characters. After all, over 50% of Nottingham’s post-grad is foreign. I’m sure social dynamics will change a bit once school is actually in session.

That’s all I have for now. Aside from making new (Mostly Canadian) friends, it’s all quiet on the front.

- Jonathan “I’ve Got Some New Looney Friends” Trenary

September 15th

In the interest of keeping certain parties apprised of my endeavor in merry ol’ England, I am going to be maintaining a semi-regular blog to let people know what’s happening across the pond. It’ll also have pictures so that my illiterate fans can still get in on the fun.

The flight over was uneventful. The movies were blah and I wasn’t very hungry, so I ate little food. The food that I actually ate was good, as one comes to expect from Virgin Atlantic. After landing, I began to understand why red-eye flights are named thus. After landing, my eyes really freakin’ hurt.

Getting through the airport was terrible. Mostly because of customs. The British are supposed to be mind-numbingly efficient, next to the Germans and the Japanese. This is not true. I found out today. In fact, it took me four hours and some change to find out how inefficient the British really can be. Arriving in British customs, I pass a line of people filled mostly with people from China and India. “Chumps…” I think to myself. When I got closer to customs I realize that the line is comprised of first time students to the U.K. and that I need to go get at the end of it. A sign letting me know an eighth of a mile beforehand would have been helpful. When I finally make it to the end, the size of the line has doubled. Sorry. I mean the queue has doubled.

I tried talking to the small army of Nepalese people next to me, but they only speak just enough English to aggravate the customs officials. Go figure. There’s a girl behind me, but she’s consistently on the phone to someone who is really concerned with her position in the line. This person would call ( I counted) twelve times. Actually, that number might be fair, considering I stood in line for one sixth of a day. It might have gone just a bit quicker if ( and I’m only speculating here) the British Airport Authority or whatever it’s called, posted more than two people at any given time to process the THREE HUNDRED PLUS that were standing in line. The math is actually quite scary. Each person took between five to ten minutes to get processed. Let’s average that to seven per person. Okay, so seven times three hundred is twenty-one hundred minutes. Divide that by sixty and you get…thirty five hours. We hardly moved in the duration of two. After two and a half hours passed, somebody wised up and sent another ten people down to customs to process the students. I finally got out of the damn queue at 11:15 GMT

From here the story gets a little more upbeat. Let’s be honest. I am really excited to be here. It hasn’t even really sunk in yet for me. But I’m here and there appears to be lots to do over the next few weeks. I’m stoked.

There are a lot of Americans here, though. I hope some of them are affable. The only person I’ve talked to so far is from Malaysia. Otherwise, I’ve been too tired to be anything other than polite. Now that I got all me affects squared in me cabin, I’ll go make some friends.

Zai jian friends.

- Jonathan “Not Gonna Let Four Hours in a Queue Get Me Down” Trenary