Trinity Traditions and Minor Differences

I think this is easily the longest I've gone so far between posts, and I must apologize. As the end of the year draws nigh, and preparations for my next great adventure overlap the process of squeezing eight weeks' worth of work into six or seven, my life at Oxford has reached a bit of a fever pitch. This week, in gaming terms, was the boss battle, the "boss" being the whopping 4 essays and 3 tutorials I had to get through. I refuse to complain; it's all work I would have had to do anyway, and as of writing this, I have officially survived all of it. But I also won't sell myself short by glossing over it as an achievement. For perspective, check out how crazy my week was when I had only one (call it one and a half) essays to write... and then multiply that by three.

If you know anything about me, though, you'll be dying of not surprise when I tell you that, even in the midst of fighting my way through what can only be described as my premature Fifth Week, I managed to get some pretty groovy Oxfordian experiences under my belt. But having less than 25 days left this side of the Atlantic, I'm also in a reflective mood. So I'm splitting this post into two convenient sections for the price of one: five traditional Oxfordian(/UK) experiences I've had lately and ten rapid-fire "minor differences" I've noticed between Oxford and the States.

[THE MID-TRINITY OXFORD TRADITION BLITZ]

1. St. Anne's Ball 2014 - "La Belle Epoque"

The whole gang in front of the Kingston-Bagpuize House.

This one has been a long time coming, and it definitely snuck up on a lot of us who had nearly forgotten that half a lifetime ago in Michaelmas term, a lot of us bought tickets to St. Anne's 2014 "La Belle Epoque" Ball. We were incredibly lucky to be here this year, as St. Anne's, not being one of the "big dogs" when it comes to funding, typically only has a ball once every three years. Having a ball every three years guarantees that every student will be able to attend a college ball at some point in their degree (because British degrees typically run three years, not four). In point of fact, it's been four years since the last St. Anne's ball due to an unfortunate lack of funding last year. Long story short - we lucked into having the ball happen our year, big time.

I should probably mention that Oxford balls, like most Oxford traditions, can be a divisive topic among the students here. It's unarguably a blast for the average college student to get dressed up super fancy, drink tons of booze, and deck out the college quad in some appropriately pretentious theme (Lincoln College's ball this year was - I kid you not - Paradise Lost-themed, as in the epic poem by Milton about the fall of Lucifer). But critics argue that college balls are not really designed with the "average" college student in mind. First, they're notoriously expensive, for both the individual and the college. Between a ticket, a dress, and the necessary accouterments, a college ball can easily run you several hundred pounds for a single evening's entertainment. A lot of folks rightly point out that this isn't really in the budget for a decent chunk of Oxford students, and continuing the tradition does do some work promoting a certain image of Oxford as posh, rich, and entitled - an image which needs no help promoting itself - which the university has been trying hard to combat with extensive "access" programs encouraging students of diverse backgrounds to apply. As far as ball committee budgets are concerned, there was in recent years a bit of a scandal at St. Anne's kitty-corner neighbor, Somerville College, when their fiasco-tastic joint ball with Jesus College left attendees hungry, thirsty, burnt, and unable to return to their rooms until 6am, with the £150,000 collected from ticket sales alone seemingly having vanished into thin air.

Horrible human being that I am, I decided to go for the St. Anne's ball, despite the naysayers and the financial hurdles involved, and I must say that (evil, posh laugh) I don't regret the choice. The ball itself, unlike most college balls, was not held on the St. Anne's campus; rather, we were bused to the Kingston-Bagpuize House, a gorgeous and cozy country estate which set Stanners atwitter when it was announced that it would be appearing as a location in the next series of Downton Abbey. Yes, in my Downton Abbey gown and vintage makeup, I went to a ball at a charming country estate straight out of Downton Abbey. Literally.

But actually.
I think my greatest achievement was learning how to do winged eyeliner in 24 hours.

The other obvious advantage of the off-campus location was that, unlike our one tiny quad, the extensive gardens could accommodate such features as a Ferris wheel, bumper cars (which the Brits adorably refer to as "dodgems"), two dancing tents, and a host of food stands, including pizza, burgers, crepes, chocolate, alcohol (obviously) and even a tent run by a lovely old couple serving up fresh-made doughnuts smothered in sugar and cinnamon. There was a "chill-out" tent for those looking for a bit of a sit down, where in the early evening one could enjoy stand-up comedy. At about midnight, after five hours of celebration, the whole party went into 'shush' mode (probably a request by the house's residents and/or neighbors), but the ball committee handled the transition beautifully to allow the festivities to continue. The chill-out tent switched from stand-up to silent Charlie Chaplin movies, which I found delightful especially in how they kept to the theme and seemed to work better than a traditional film in the context of a large crowd. The dance tents turned into silent discos, where each individual dancer wears headphones which can be switched to a number of different musical channels of your own choosing.

Another late-found favorite was the photo booth.

By 3am, when the last bus was headed back to Oxford, we were practically asleep on our feet; between the carnivalesque barrage of activities and the cold and rain which had plagued the ball throughout the evening, we were more than ready to collapse into bed with yet another Oxford tradition on our records.

2. OxHoli

Part of the Stanners delegation.

I'd always wanted to attend the rather large Holi celebration which goes on at my home institution, but had never gotten around to it. The Oxford version, held in the expansive fields behind Merton College, was both well-attended and well-organized. Nothing beats the stress of college students like putting several hundred of them in a field, arming them with non-lethal weapons (i.e. paint), and telling them to have at it.

A mere hour had me looking like an infantryman
whose camouflage makeup had been done by a first grader with fingerpaints.

3. Afternoon Tea with K at Maison Blanc

In a very sweet effort to help me check off yet another thing on my Oxford bucket list, my first-year British friend K invited me to Maison Blanc, a teahouse and patisserie just down the road from Anne's, for a spot of afternoon tea, accompanied by scones as well as the obligatory clotted cream and strawberry jam. It struck me as we sat and talked for an hour and a half how mature freshers can be here - not everyone, of course, but just the knowledge and experiences everyone brings to being a fresher at Oxford... it's mindblowing, and definitely awing. When I first met K, I thought she was a finalist (a third year, like me), and in the most complimentary way possible I still can't fully believe that she's a fresher.

It also struck me that while I've been to tea several times with friends, I had never actually been to tea with a Brit before. See? I'm still finding 'firsts' to celebrate, even with just three weeks left!

4. Jane Austen house

Despite being visiting students, we were lucky enough to be offered the chance to tag along on a field trip with the second year English students at Anne's and Somerville to Jane Austen's house, which now serves as a museum on the author's life. We were treated to a brief film on Austen's life (at which many of us laughed, having known all the information it imparted and also highly amused by the solemnity with which the narrator said names like "Bigglesworth.") Then we were turned loose on the grounds to explore. My favorite exhibits in the house were a scrap quilt which was made by Jane and her sisters; a modern reference library full of copies of Austen's books, translated into every language imaginable; and of course, Jane's writing desk, which still sits by the window in the front room.

It felt fitting somehow that she didn't write at a giant oak desk like the ones belonging to male authors from this time -
it was this dainty ladies' side table, something which might hold sewing supplies,
but had been put to a much different purpose.

We also got to handle some rare Austen books, which naturally made my heart sing. The curators trotted out first editions of Emma, Persuasion and Mansfield Park (which is currently celebrating its bicentennial), on whose front pages were hand-written inscriptions from the early 1800s, some by the Knight family, who preserved and donated much of the Austen paraphernalia to be found at the museum today. A recent acquisition about which there was much hubub was a ring which belonged to Jane, which was bought back from (of all people) singer Kelly Clarkson a year or two ago through a public fundraising effort.

They had some cool exhibits in the learning center, like this board full of quill-pen messages from visitors to Austen.

There was also a surprisingly extensive map of countries from which people had visited,
as well as the myriad languages Austen's books had been translated into.

After a lovely picnic lunch in the back garden, we walked up to the "big house" on the hill. the Austen home is, after all, a cottage in town which was bequeathed to her and her sisters, rent-free for life, by their suddenly rich brother. The estate to which it belongs, which is about a five minute walk up the road, boasts beautiful views, the small country chapel where Austen would have attended church, and the graves of Austen's sister and mother.

The "big house".

Jane's sister and mother.

5. Practicing "Pirates of the Caribbean" in St. John's College chapel

Setting up the ranks.

This one was not so much a tradition, but how neat it was to have something very traditional (the chapel) meet something so obviously novel (the movie theme tune). OOO's Trinity Term concert is fast approaching - unlike the other two terms, the Trinity concert is traditionally held halfway through the term for the benefit of students who need the second half of term to shut themselves up in a library to "revise" (study) for their end-of-year exams. It's also traditional to perform slightly simpler, shorter, and perhaps more immediately fun songs for this concert, so one of our two selections naturally ended up being "Pirates of the Caribbean" - and not just "Pirates of the Caribbean," but the exact same arrangement of "Pirates of the Caribbean" which I played in middle school and high school band. I even remember all the tricky fiddly bits - I've played it so many times, aside from some high notes, it's less a matter of concentration and more a trip down memory lane every time we play it.

A lovely view from the far-afield flute section.

What's more, a scheduling snafu had us banished from our normal practice space in the auditorium, but it turned into a lovely digression from the norm when we saw how beautiful the chapel was, and heard the pretty unique acoustics. I took a short clip of us playing a bit from "Pirates" to give you an idea - apologies for the video quality, and for how out of tune the flute section is (I am hopeless at tuning my own flute).

If you want to hear the rest and you're in Oxford, be sure to come to OOO's Trinity concert next Friday! If you're not in Oxford, rest assured I'll try and grab a video of it for the curious.

[MINOR DIFFERENCES: OXFORD EDITION]

If you haven't seen webcomic the Oatmeal's series on 'Minor Differences,' and you're also not easily offended, I'd urge you to check it out. For a while now, I've been mulling over the idea of writing about some of the unexpected differences I'd encountered here, but initially had no idea how to organize my thoughts. By 'minor differences,' I'm talking about things you wouldn't expect to be different before coming here; we all know there's a tea and biscuit fascination, and that they drive on the left side of the road. It's the little things I'll be giving my attention to - after all, according to Uncanny Valley theory, it's the small differences which can be the most unnerving. I should probably also put the disclaimer that I can obviously only speak from my experience, and to be safe, I'm calling these differences between the US and Oxford, not the US and the UK in general, although some of these may apply to the UK, or even Europe in general.

1. Separate hot and cold water taps

As an American, I did not appreciate the triumph of modern plumbing that was integrated hot/cold water taps until I came to Oxford. It doesn't sound like a big deal, but even simple tasks like washing dishes can be considerably complicated when the only two options for temperatures are "hellfire" and "winter is coming," with no in-between except what you can mix up yourself while trying not to sustain third-degree burns.

2. The sidewalk free-for-all

Atari could have made a fortune off an Oxford sidewalk simulator
with mechanics recycled from Asteroids.

Perhaps it's just where I've lived, but in the States, I've found that sidewalks tend to work a lot like roads as far as traffic patterns are concerned - we walk on the right, just like we drive on the right. Maybe it's just the incredible diversity of people to be found in Oxford, especially tourists, all following the rules of etiquette from wherever they're from, but there is no established rules for where to walk on the sidewalk, turning a trip to the grocery store on a busy weekend into a game of "dodge the approaching immovable objects." This is especially odd to me because Brits have unwritten rules for escalators analogous to ours, where you stand on the left to let people pass.

3. The terminology shuffle

We all know the amusing situations of "lost in translation" liable to befall Americans in the UK when we accidentally use words like "pants" at inopportune moments. There are also the subtle logistical differences, like the British "first floor" referring to the American "second floor." But especially in the case of academic terminology, in a place as old and traditional as Oxford, it's as though they lined up academic words with their definitions and then asked all the definitions to take a step or two to the right. For example, the Brits call essays "essays," just like us, but a "paper" here is not an essay, but a course. A "course" however, is not interchangeable with the word "class", but rather refers to your general "course" of study, roughly the equivalent of college majors in the US; and the word "class" furthermore only refers to a specific large-group (5+) learning session, while a tutorial describes its small-group equivalent. What we would call a "private school" is here called a "public school," while institutions we'd refer to as "public schools" are called "state schools."  Students don't go to "college" - they go to university; yet Oxford University is made up of 38 colleges to which students apply and are accepted separately. "Tutors" and "lecturers" replace catch-all nouns like "professor" when you're talking about someone, but when speaking to them, you might still use that as their title. I've even caught myself using the word "term" in place of the word "semester" - I think that alone means that it's time for me to go back...

4. Mother's Day

Mother's Day in the UK happens roundabout the end of March, which left me in the lurch as far as finding a card for my own dear ma when the American version recently rolled around and I realized  far too late that there would be absolutely no Mother's Day cards to be found in the entire country for another ten months. To future visiting students: plan ahead! And to my mother: sorry, ma. I promise I love you!

5. Getting carded while buying scissors

Fun fact you may not know: because of a law age-restricting the sale of objects with blades, you need a photo ID proving you are over 18 years of age in order to buy scissors in the UK. This is particularly amusing because at 17 here, you can get married, drive a car, and have a pint of beer with your dinner at a pub. You just can't buy scissors.

6. Eggs are not refrigerated

...and it weirds me out so much that I pretty much refrigerate mine anyway, just to put my mind at ease. A quick read-through of this article gives the basic explanation that American eggs are legally required to be blasted with industrial-strength sanitizers before they are packaged and sold in order to remove bacteria on the shell, but doing this weakens the shell, making the egg more vulnerable to other kinds of contamination later on. On the other hand, it's actually forbidden in some places in Europe to sanitize eggs in that way, the thought process being that if farmers can't go for the quick fix of chemical sanitation after the fact, they'll have to address possible causes of such contamination at the source, keeping their operations running at a certain standard to remain competitive with market rivals.

7. Blackcurrant everything

My favorite flavor anything here in the UK is bound to be blackcurrant. The dark blue/purple fruit, which roughly resembles a cross between a blueberry and the individual pips of a blackberry in both appearance and taste, is as ubiquitous in the UK as grape flavoring is in the States, right down to being found especially in jams, juices, and teas. So why have you never heard of it? Like eggs, it's all down to the legislation. The US has historically banned the growing of blackcurrant due to the plant's notorious vulnerability to a number of diseases which might in turn threaten other plants and crops. Genetic engineers, isn't this right up your alley? Please, please design me a blackcurrant plant which isn't immune deficient.

8. Chip and pin

The bane of Americans visiting abroad (and also the subject of a quite amusing Mitchell and Webb sketch), the ubiquity of the "chip and pin" debit cards in the UK means you'll have to ask especially for the clerk to run your card as a swipe card (usually accompanied by a stupid midair swiping mime which you're not sure why you do, it's not like they don't understand the word "swipe" and what action that denotes, but you do it anyway). There's no worse feeling than finding yourself at the Tesco self-checkouts (which are to be found in stores much more frequently in the UK precisely because of conveniences like the chip and pin system) waiting for an attendant to come over and get your signature manually - I have yet to see an electronic signature system here.

9. Pretty much always having to ask for the check at restaurants

You can easily spend years on a meal in a British restaurant, partly because of the notoriously unrushed service. But also, as an American, if you expect your waiter to notice you're finishing up your meal, stop by, ask if you need anything else, and then pop the check on the table for you to deal with "whenever you're ready," you'll be waiting a long time. I'm not sure why, but I think it may have something to do with thinking it hospitably safer to let you sit and chat at your table for hours rather than risk implying that you need to leave/are no longer welcome in the restaurant now that you seem to have finished your food. If you're an American in the UK, use that loveable American frankness of yours (practically a superpower here) to ask for the check at your earliest convenience.

10. Different prices for dining in vs. getting "takeaway"

Most people seem to know when they come to the UK that tipping works differently here - a tip of ten percent is just about the most any waiter can expect even at a high-end sit-down establishment. Tipping in the UK is not so much a way for the customer to reward or punish their waiter or waitress for their level of service as just a social convention which everyone takes part in, standardized down to the exact percentage number. This is, as you may know, because waitstaff in Europe are typically better-paid as a base salary by far than waitstaff in the US, and thus don't depend nearly as much on tips to make their income liveable. What you may not realize, though, is that this gives rise to a phenomenon unique to Europe, in which eating food in the shop (even if it's not a full meal) can result in a more expensive price for the food - a price which incorporates the money needed to pay the shop staff to serve it to you, as well as pay the associated "served food" VAT tax. It sounds like a scam, but actually, it's quite economically sound - by including the price of the worker's time in the meal, and also giving patrons the option of not paying that price by getting the food "to go," you as a customer promote the practice of having the store pay for its workers' time out of their profits, instead of the establishment passing the cost of that time onto the customer through the merit-based tips system.

* * *

That's all for now, folks. Hopefully over the next few weeks my life will be a little quieter than it has been, and I'll be able to return to a more regular posting schedule.