still waiting for the internet...

It's a bureaucratic tangle (of course).  I can't get an internet hook up until I get a local bank account, which I've signed up for, but have not yet recieved.  Apparently, you fill out the paperwork, then a few days/weeks later they input the information and send out a letter telling you that you have an account.  That takes a week or so to arrive.  Then I can call British Telecom with that information.  Then four to six weeks later they will send out an engineer to set me up.

I can't use the internet or the library at the school because I'm not officially a student there yet.  And won't be until mid January.  All the local wifi spots I've tried will let me on, but I can't access any websites.  I think it might be because BT runs all the hotspots, and I don't have a BT account.  I get this idea from some of the ads I see plastered to the sides of the busses.  So, by the time I have access to a wifi hotspot, I won't need access to a wifi hotspot.  Bureaucracies.  Go fig.

Update:  I just checked.  It is because I don't have a BT account.

Gotta love bureaucracies...

I'm at the local Manchester library.  It's the only place I can get online, and I only have two hours.  The university won't let me access their internet until I officially register in January and my home connection won't be active until the end of January, provided I can get the deposit to them.  They couldn't take my visa and my bank account here won't be open for at least a week, even though they currently have all the paperwork in.

Needless to say, I can't write long, and my updates will be somewhat sketchy for a while. 

Also, I've been given an assignment by my dissertation director to write an article for an encyclopedia she is editing.  I have until the end of December to gather and write a 3000 word piece for editing, to be submitted for publication by the end of January.  All online time is focused on this goal at the moment.  It will be the second publication of mine before I get my PhD.  I'm not sure if I should be proud or worried....

First London excursion

Today I’m on the train to London, so I can attend a symposium for Medievalists at the British Library on Monday.  I’m really excited about both the travel and symposium.  I get to see some of the countryside and meet curators at the Library, some of which I might be working with.  It feels almost pretentious to write about working with curators of the British Library, but there we are.  It is part of my work now.

Remind me not to buy a car here.  Far too expensive.  I stopped by a petrol station yesterday to buy some lunch (including a peach barley squash I’m drinking now) and the price of petrol was £11.89 a liter!  And you thought gas was expensive in the States.  If my father-in-law knew it was that expensive, he’d blow a gasket.

I bought my first cell phone yesterday in a shop on Market Street.  I accidentally found Market Street by walking through another shop called Boots, which sells general merchandise.  It is definitely an outdoor street, though large sections of it are actually under second and third stories of surrounding buildings.  It’s kind of like a large mall where the thoroughfare of the main floor is outside.  I’m not sure I’m describing it very well.

It did take me a while to realize that when the shop attendants asked “Are you ok?” they were actually asking if I needed some help, rather than asking if I was feeling well.  I finally understood when I was talking with a real estate agency I happened across while wandering lost in downtown Manchester.

I’ll need to set up a local bank account on Tuesday.  I must have one before I can get a better cell (the one I have is basically a throwaway so I can call around looking for a flat), get set up at school, and rent a flat.  That will not be terribly fun, really.  The exchange rate right now is moderately awful.  I pulled out £200 and $325 was deducted from my bank account.  Ouch.  On the other hand, I still have £70+ after four days of cabs, meals, and miscellaneous needs like the phone.  I also need to be certain that my funding is still set up for next semester.  I’m sure it still is, but it is best to check. 

(Hours later)

The train ended up being delayed due to some traffic signal difficulties.  We sat looking at the English countryside for two hours longer than was originally intended.  A gal named Karen was on the PA every few minutes, sounding more and more exasperated at time went by, basically announcing that she had no information but that she would let us know something when she did.  

I spent the ride next to a lovely young married couple.  He was from the Midlands and she was from Turkey.  They were very sweet together and obviously terribly in love.  I finished two more tatted snowflakes on the trip and gave them to the couple.  People may not remember me, but little bits of my work are now floating around Britain.  Pure vanity, I'm sure, but still a fun thought.

(Written over 12 hours starting on Dec 2, just posted online Dec 3 due to unforeseen internet complications)

I’m finally in England.  It feels strange, partially because I’m seriously jetlagged, and partially because everything is so new, every moment seems somewhat disconnected to the previous experience.  (See jetlag.)

I started December 1rst at my daughter’s house in Oklahoma City at 6:30 am.  I woke, dressed, roused the family (except my husband who was still under the effects of his sleep medication), and left by 7:45.  I got to my mother’s in Dallas by 11:30 and got my hair braided.  My mother can do a French braid that hair can not escape from: since I expected to be traveling all day, this is a good way to not have to bother with it.  I then played a game of what would be the best way to do what comes next with my step dad, sister, and mother, until it was time to get to the airport at 3:00 pm. 

The plane left Dallas for Atlanta on time, at 5:00, landed slightly early, but I still had to rush to meet the flight for Manchester.  It was kind of a shame, because the Atlanta airport distinguishes itself from other international airports with a display of Chinese shadow puppets, a Martin Luther King, Jr. exhibit, and a couple of muppets. 

A lady named Phyllis sat next to me on the plane.  We spoke of her grandchildren she had visited for Thanksgiving, tatting, and the weather in England, among other topics.  I tatted a snowflake for her.  She seemed most appreciative.  (It was a way to pass the time.)  I managed a light snooze for about and hour and a half.  We landed at the Manchester airport at 11:00 am, local time, about half an hour later than we should have.  I dragged my luggage outside and a lovely gentleman asked if I wanted a taxi, luv.  I got quite a kick out of being called luv the first thing here in the country.

I checked into my hotel early.  Everything is booked this weekend, though no one seems to know why.  I got a Harry Potter style room.  It is under the stairs, the only one in the basement floor where they also have the breakfast room, only slightly wider than a twin sized bed and about twice as long.  I have to pass a nice, medieval style wooden door as well, giving the comparison emphasis.  It does have its own bathroom and shower, and all the hot water I can use, which is good, as they don’t seem to heat public spaces around here.  The room itself is warm enough, though.

Internet access for the hotel is only in the lobby, and very slow, so after a few moments playing with that, I decided to check into the school.  It is only a short ten minute walk, according to the locals.  Somebody needs to talk to them about the definition of a short walk.  It's cold here in Manchester, with about an inch of snow.  Apparently, the city never bothers with snow plows or shovels, as it is also very slick.  I’ve been walking very carefully, not wanting to start my stay with a broken leg.

It was an interesting walk, though.  There are many restaurants, sari shops, and jewelry shops along the way, all specializing in near East fashions, food and clientele.  I don’t think I even heard English, Queen’s or otherwise, for most of the distance. 

About twenty minutes later I found the student services center.  I spoke with a curly-haired student worker who found out I wasn't officially registered at the university, though I was in the system.  He sent me to another office in a different building where they agreed that I wasn't registered, and that I couldn't until January.  Then I went to a third office in a third building to meet the woman everyone else called to straighten out the confusion.  She was just leaving, so I merely introduced myself.

My supervisor was not in her office, and it was 4:00 pm local.  I caught a taxi to the Deansgate branch of the John Ryland library, where Dr. Gale Owen-Crocker (my dissertation supervisor - hereafter called Gale) invited me to see a performance of medieval chorales followed by dinner.  There was a small cafe there, as seems to be quite common here, and I hadn't eaten since 10 ish, so I ordered a hot chocolate and flapjack.  Apparently, they don't add sugar to the chocolate.  A flapjack is a long, dense cookie/cake like object.  Trying to stay awake, connect to the internet, and warm up, I ate the flapjack, eventually discovering the sugar for the chocolate at the bottom of the porcelain cup.  

Around 5:00, I asked the desk attendant for the library where the performance was to be held.  He was looking for the information when Gale walked in.  There was a committee meeting for the Manchester Medieval Society before the singers came.  Only three other members of the committee showed up, so I was drafted.  We sat in an alcove of the Reading room on beautiful, ornate wooden chairs.  The whole building, I was informed, was designed to look like a gothic cathedral made of wood instead of stone by a grieving widow for her husband in the 19th century.  As soon as I get settled, I will try to post pictures...

The acoustics were amazing, and the concert was lovely.  Six singers from the university choirs, four men, two women wove their voices together, experimenting with the echo of the hall.  It was glorious.  They finished with the Coventry Carol, not strictly medieval, but a wonderful piece.  It was also cold.  They don't heat the library during the evening hours.

Afterward, several of us went to the Italian restaurant across the street, where the Medieval Society treated the singers to dinner.  Because there were fourteen of us, the restaurant used the special menu for large groups.  Basically we were given plates and brought out a selection of eight appetizers followed by eight main courses.  Everybody got to try a bit of everything.  I discovered I don't care for calamari much.  It's a rubbery type chewy without flavor.  The men singers all sat around me, which was quite fun, and we discussed everything from James Bond to Top Gear (a British tv program Chet likes to watch - they were tickled I knew anything about it) to a game they made up on the spot where someone mentioned the first name of a composer and the rest of the group had to guess the last name.  I held my own.  Not bad for having been up for two days.

A recent PhD graduate, Dr. Hannah Priest, took me through town to catch a cab at the Town Hall.  We walked through a specially set up Christmas market, designed to look like Swiss cottages.  I really enjoyed the architecture and the Christmas lights (a large Santa of lights sat on top of the entrance to the Hall).  I got home and took a long, hot shower, then collapsed into bed at 11:00, roughly 47 hours after I first woke up, if my calculations are correct.  A very long day to say the least.