So my first blog got derailed for a while, by my first paper of the term. This meant spending the first ten days of the month sitting all day every day in the library (further necessitated by the fact that I switched my 1st and 2nd paper topics halfway through), being slowly swallowed alive by my engorging essay, while the tree outside that I had no time to photograph slowly changed color and lost its leaves, and the sun I could not spare a minute to sit in sometimes appeared, changed angle and set. We have a very nice library, but there is a limit to how long one can resist the roses in the garden outside...to illustrate the extent to which I moved in, I actually bought a separate box of cocoa to hide in the nearby common room/kitchenette (Whittard's Bannoffee flavor :) And then finally it got to the last 24 hours where I stayed up all night (most of which my roommate sat up with me, bless her) and then the final morning where I handed in the paper just before the deadline, along with 95% of my classmates. To celebrate our freedom, we then had 4 days of lectures, ending on Remembrance Sunday.
I have to back up here a bit and mention that this is my first UK November. I've spent almost all the rest in India, so I was thrilled when Bonfire Night on the 5th coincided with our festival of Deepavali (Diwali) and I didn't miss the fireworks. Just about everyone I know here turned out on a freezing night at the sports pitch for the mini fun fair, with hot drinks, glo-sticks, various roasted things, lots of unrelated trinkets, disco music, and a gigantic bonfire including a creepily realistic effigy of Guy Fawkes. Yes, it was a highly combustible mixture of 3000+ freezing citizens and visitors, Britney, a bonfire, a sports pitch, and spiced mead. My warm-blooded Florida classmate and I managed to get there early enough to claim prized positions up against the surrounding fence so we could feel the heat, although our feet were so numb they hurt. It was the biggest fire I have ever seen; my roommate was especially fascinated by the green, blue, and violet colors it changed, which she stared at as she hopped up and down chanting and teaching us the rhyme her British grandmother made her learn as a little girl, along with how to curtsy to the Queen:
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot...
The best part of the evening was the fireworks, which were the most beautiful ever. Including the last ones I recently saw in Texas, lying in the grass with my family and watching as they exploded over the nearby amusement park (the rides of which were also less scary than the ones here. These harmless fun fairs are deceptive.)
The next custom I got introduced to was poppies. I asked the first person I saw selling them if he was a soldier, because he was wearing medals. It turns out they were for each milestone he had spent in the service of selling memorial poppies, and the latest read '35 years'. I knew of Veterans Day but in the US it feels slightly different to me, since the war action was distanced--my grandfathers both actively served, and my father joined the Navy and patrolled the coast although he was too young to see action, but my birthplace was not actually part of those blitzed or occupied, whereas here it is so immediate. I was not even sure what the poppies represented, until I read about this poem:
On Remembrance Sunday we were in our lecture at 11 but we still observed two minutes of silence. It was unplanned but our topic was fittingly Henry V, including his speech on St. Crispin's Day,
"From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers".
Afterwards, during our lunch break we were able to see the second part of the parade, which was very moving; the audience ranged from the oldest who could barely walk to the youngest in prams, and included a group of German tourist teenagers. 'We' means I, because my two classmates who went to the memorial with me got too cold and left before it started, to eat lunch by the fireside at the nearby pub. I had packed mine though, and it being my first afternoon in two weeks away from the common room, I stubbornly went ahead afterward and picnicked on the riverbank, in silence with the pine needles, swans and squirrels.
On the way back I noticed a sign by the church for a special evening service with music. It turned out that several of us, of several different beliefs, had planned to go independently, so we went together. The person officiating began with a speech acknowledging those who gave their lives, and those who were alive during the war and still remembered the blitz, and spoke of the healing power of forgiveness, before the choir brought it to life.
Just a few days later I was at the main university for a meeting (that's right, I volunteered to be 'secretary' which means I am now immersed in 'minutes' and 'agendas'). Fortunately, one of my classmates had to come up and use the main library so I was not there alone with 12,000+ strangers but with only 11,999. We were in the main university hall waiting in line for Starbucks (sigh...I am anti-corporatism but pro class team spirit and they, I mean we, all love their hot chocolate. But for one, who asks for guiltless gift certificates so she doesn't have to purchase any of it herself directly, lol). Anyway, my classmate turns and says to me, "Did you hear that Prince William's got engaged?! Apparently he gave her Diana's ring." After a brief flash of happiness mingled with gloating (I had just told my mom on the phone the previous night, when she asked about the royal couple, that my instinct said they would get engaged soon since there was nothing left to wait for ;) a huge wave of wistfulness hit. One of my earliest memories is of watching the royal wedding on tv/vcr, and as little girls my friends and I once bought a pair of earrings in India and sent them to Princess Diana (we actually got a sweet letter back from her secretary!). So it was hugely nostalgic to realize, cliched as it may sound, that the generation has come full circle and a new one is beginning.
I also took the opportunity of visiting the main campus to visit the Indian grocery store again. After going in circles for a while (it is a circular campus...) I finally found the right exit to utopia. This time I found a 'bakery' tucked in the rear of the store, and they had vada (salty doughnuts) that tasted even better than home; it was very strange to eat tropical food in cold weather. This added to my nostalgia...not only that but this week I had found an old favorite music video again online, from the movie Taare Zameen Par (Stars on Earth). It is about a withdrawn, dyslexic child who blossoms with the help of an art teacher, and the song is about the evanescent world of childhood:
At the university they were handing out free lollipops to advertise something or other. Googling them I found this poem about growing up, titled 'Lollipops Become Cigarettes' (floating around the web in many versions) just in case I wasn't feeling nostalgic enough:
Do you remember when...dads shoulders were the highest place on earth and mom was our hero? our worst enemies were siblings, race issues were about who ran the fastest, and war was a card game? we could hold our best friends hand of the same gender, we could wear costumes to the grocery store, and no one had a problem with it? the only labels in our clothes were those our moms sewed in, the colour of our hair never had anything to do with our intelligence, make-up was just another version of face paint? if our mother hugged us in front of a group of friends, we were happy? getting a cookie from the top shelf was the biggest achievement of our day? we wanted to become pokemon, unicorns, animals, dinosaurs, princesses, superman, the incredible hulk, and we believed it was possible? the only thing we could catch from boys was cooties, hot was based on actual body temperature? the only drama we knew of was Romeo and Juliet, the only thing you could cheat in was games, and players were for sports not relationships? the only drug we knew was cough medicine, wearing a skirt didnt make you a slut, getting high meant swinging on the playground? to change meant clothes, protection meant wearing a helmet, to get hurt meant skinned knees, and goodbyes only meant until tomorrow? and yet we just couldnt wait to grow up...
I had the same feeling tonight, watching Harry Potter #7. In preparation, over the last few days my roommates, classmates, and I watched 1-6 in chronological order. In most coming-of-age films, we haven't seen the actors grow up (and learn to act) together over the years on screen, and it is hard to believe this particular journey is coming to an end. Spoilers not ahead :) but the world-war-like but millennial setting also was a stark reminder of things not so long ago past and hopefully never again future. Maybe we can grow enough to prevent that.
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(from 2008) Remember Me...
Someday when you are dreaming in the sun
Running your mind back over your running days
And you remember the pure joy of being alive
Back before you knew there was another way to be,
Remember me.
Remember the way I'd laugh at your silliest jokes,
Just because I loved you and I knew you wanted me to.
Remember the way I would tuck you in at night
And sing you your favorite song,
Even though we both knew I wasn't a singer.
Remember the times you discovered something
So important you couldn't get the words out,
But I understood you by listening to what your eyes said.
Remember how you and I could never remember
The same thing in exactly the same way,
But it didn't matter in the long run, anyway.
When you feel love’s indescribable sweetness,
And know it's for eternity,
Then, you won't have to 'remember' me...
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