First Formal Hall!

So Oxford basically became Hogwarts tonight. Because these Harry Potter jokes and references never get old...

In other words, first formal hall at St. John's is under my belt! We filed in wearing our gowns, then a few other Rhodies and I went upstairs to the balcony seating in order to have enough space for everyone to sit together. The perks of this location: we got to look down from above as everyone rose and the High Table came in, the choir sang a brief song to open the dinner (I wish I knew what it was), and everyone sat back down along the long, quintessentially Oxford tables. A bit surreal, really, to find myself here.

Alas, the food was a first course of soup, followed chicken with gravy, potatoes, and peas -- can't the Brits get more creative than this? -- then a lemon tart for dessert. It was decent enough for British food, but I'm looking forward to sampling more formal hall menus in the coming weeks. Good thing St. John's has so many (one every night, preceded by an informal hall option)! This gown is going to get a lot of use, methinks.

Port Meadow (Or, Encounter With Incredibly Adorable British Ponies)

As much as I enjoy Oxford, I'd been feeling locked up in the city this week -- so, this morning, I headed out to Port Meadow. It's a sprawling open meadow in northwest Oxford, a short walk from St. John's, in which one can literally open the gate and go tramping through herds of horses and cows, while seeing flocks of geese by the river with Oxford crew boats rowing past. Such quintessentially lovely English scenery, and I felt like someone in a British provincial novel the entire time. I'd heard about Port Meadow from some Rhodie friends, and had somehow never made it out here the last time I was in Oxford.

Anyway, it had been cold, cloudy, and gloomy this morning, so I zipped up a rain jacket, only to find that the skies cleared up and the sun broke through and exposed some brilliant blue sky as soon as I arrived at the open space. The shades of green were glorious. There are few defined walking paths through the meadow, and I saw a few people walking their dogs hither and thither, through some lone cows grazing, so decided to follow them. A handful of cows turned to a big herd, and I stopped to get up close and personal with a few curious ones as I passed.

I'd heard that there were some horses here, too, and was hoping to get at least a glimpse of a few, since I've missed my big equine buddies (and riding, of course) since I got to Oxford. I'm hoping to remedy my horselessness soon, but more on that later. As I continued my walk, I saw a couple of familiar equine shapes in the distance and decided to get a little closer.

These horses, far from being shy, were unfazed at my approach and a few of them decided to follow me around and say hello. They were all fat, hairy, and adorable. (A few needed a good hoof trim from living on their own for so long, but all seemed happy to be living unfettered in the outdoors.) Plus, picture not included here but a tiny Shetland stallion was trying to have his way on top of a large horse-sized mare, which was one of the more interesting sights (and examples of size incompatibility) I've seen...

A couple of horses turned to more, and then to many more, and soon I was weaving my way through new four-legged friends as part of my walk. My favorite: these two absolutely, incredibly adorable ponies who marched right up and snuffled at my pockets. They were both tiny, slightly larger than miniature horse size but not by very much! I think I would have been just as smitten even if I hadn't been feeling so horse-deprived. Such velvety noses, such thick manes, such fuzzy ears. SO. CUTE.

Actually, many more horses, from Shetlands to Gypsy Vanners, marched up as soon as they saw me, nuzzled around a bit looking for carrots, and then wandered off. Could you get any more picturesque? I think now Port Meadow is going to leap to the top of my list of favorite Oxfordshire walks...

OUSU Freshers' Fair

This just made my day: Oxford, rather appropriately, has a Harry Potter club. That divides you into Houses. And that plays Quidditch. And meets throughout this strange place that really ought to be called Hogwarts. What could be better??

This, and many other clubs and societies, was on offer this morning at the always-crazy Oxford University Student Union freshers' fair -- aka Stanford activities fair on steroids. Set in the examination schools building, freshers' fair is a crush of people navigating hundreds of tables with free giveaways and club sign-ups and overeager club officers getting in your face with pitches for why you should join. A very different affair than Stanford's laid-back version... Anyway, the options on tab included caving, fencing, pentathlon, a Gregorian Chant club (??), a tea lover's club (no, seriously), a bibliophiles' club (but of course; this is Oxford), and dozens of others I can't remember. The things Oxford students spend their time doing or thinking about are blowing my mind.

I'm still deliberating over what to join or what I'll have time for, but the next few days should bring a little more clarity. Or at least I hope, since the last few days have been an absolute blur and, as fun as it's all been, I'd really like to settle into a semi-normal routine, curl up and read, do my work, grab copious cups of tea with friends, and do various other exciting things for fun when I can. Please?

English Faculty Induction

Today I seriously saw a professor riding through Oxford on a bicycle who looked just like Dumbledore!

And, aside from that, I had my postgraduate induction at the English faculty this afternoon (read: incoming grad student orientation at the English department). May I just say, this year is going to be a sprint, through all of the material, and during Oxford's incredibly short terms besides. I can barely see over the mountainloads of reading ahead of me, but I'm preparing to plunge right in. Starting with several theoretical/critical essays on modernism. Here we go.

Final side note: after the induction activities, we had yet another "meet and greet" mixer with free food and copious drinks. Such an Oxford thing. I found myself recognizing who was American almost immediately, based not only on accent but also on demeanor. (That has been a common theme during my time at Oxford; I should write more on the topic later.) But many of the Oxford students here are not Americans, and I found myself explaining to a student from somewhere in continental Europe about where the state of New Mexico is. She thought it was part of Central America (....) and located right on the Atlantic Ocean, on the Gulf of Mexico (.................).

Another person asked me if I was from "Albuqwerqwe." Yeah, sure, I am. At least she had heard of it.

First New Mexican most anyone has ever met, let's go get this thing right.

Windsor!

Today, the 2013 Rhodes class loaded up on a couple coaches and headed over to Windsor for a few hours of sightseeing at Windsor Castle. We had our welcome day at Rhodes House yesterday, as well as a "meet and mingle" evening event, so my mind was already reeling with many new names and faces. The Rhodes House welcome day was much more congenial and informal than I'd expected, with some opening remarks by the Warden followed by a group photo (for which the sun actually cooperated and stuck its head out of the clouds!), an information session on various Rhodes-centered clubs and organizations, some lunch, and a rather hilarious auction of various practical and not-so-practical Oxford goods to benefit charitable organizations in Africa. I also got to meet two of the sign language interpreters I'll be working with this year, and was very glad to find that I hit it off with both of them immediately. I hit it off with a few others at the meet and mingle in the evening, too, and discovered many similar interests and personalities. I'm thankful for that.

Anyway, to Windsor. I'd been to the castle before, in fall 2010 when I went on a chilly November day near the end of the term. It was one of the trips I took around the UK by myself, since I'm one of those people who loves visiting old castles and houses and country estates and my Stanford peers were rather tired of such things by that point in the term. Despite the overcast weather, it was a nice day of wandering around and reflecting quietly to myself. Okay, so I admit the clouds did lend themselves to contemplation.

The Long Walk, Windsor, November 2010

Needless to say, the weather was much nicer this time:

Much better!

We toured the castle, which was strange and medieval and grand and gaudy and impressive as ever, then slipped out to the grounds for a short walk down the Long Walk (which I walked last time, all the way out to the statue of King George IV at the very end of the pathway, a trip that took almost two hours). Then it was back to grab some ice cream, get on the bus, and head back to Oxford (for more dinnertime and after-dinner socializing and meeting and mingling; how familiar that all feels by now!!).

I mean, could you have a more gorgeous English October day?

Oh, and when leaving Windsor we saw some of the queen's horses out for a hack down the streets by the castle, just casually. I will need to get back in a saddle soon!

!!!!

Down the Rabbit-Hole

How funny it is to be back in the UK. While running errands today, I again found myself marveling at the streets of Oxford, the different pace of life here, and the fact that I've somehow wound up in this place for a second time abroad. It still feels surreal. Certain details -- some of them well-known, others new -- jumped out at me, especially in the areas in which Oxford, um... differs from America. This is a very different university than Stanford. Not better or worse in many ways, just so different as to be nearly incomparable in some aspects. Musings on that topic:

1. A rule that has applied thus far -- and that I suspect will continue to apply -- is that it almost invariably rains when I go outside. Then I find myself drying off indoors and, behold! sun! A small purse-size umbrella is a must. (I don't think I am going to find this pattern as amusing after a few more months.)

2. I was in the shopping center today and needed to, well, use the restroom. So I found a British lady and asked her, a little tentatively, "Where's the loo?" She raised one eyebrow. So I said, "I mean, where's the toilet? The water closet?" Ah, she got it that time. I must not have said "loo"quite like a British person.

3. The British really are experts in the art of queueing. Perfect straight little lines at all the bus stops. That's all I have to say.

5. Are the British afraid of fire? I mean, irrationally, excessively afraid of fire? Practically every door, everywhere, is marked, "Fire door; keep shut" (as anyone who has visited the UK knows). My building in my college also has a side stairwell marked, "Fire shelter area." And fire exits are ubiquitous. With all the rain here, really...?

6. What's with these British faucets? Hot out of one side, cold out of the other, so all you achieve are burnt or frozen hands. Fortunately, my room is a newer sort, so I can mix the two temperatures out of one faucet (what a concept).

7. Evensong at Christ Church College (which I didn't attend the last time I was here, for any of the colleges) is a rather beautiful tradition. It's an evening choral service that takes place in the big cathedral (or college chapel, for the smaller colleges), and with the flickering candles, ringing voices from the singers, and old stone Gothic arches I felt like I had stepped through a door into many centuries ago. I got to go with some other Rhodies and it was great fun.

8. I haven't yet made the mistake of answering "You all right?" with "Yes," but then again I also haven't yet been asked! I am sure I will end up looking like what I am, a silly American.

These observations, as mentioned, are not new or groundbreaking in terms of capturing the flavor and texture of Oxford and the UK. But they struck my American self today -- that's right, I've slipped down the rabbit-hole to a very different place. Though I haven't encountered the Jabberwocky yet, and certainly won't tonight, since I've just sipped a pint of cider with new Rhodes friends and am heading to bed.

Before then, one last side note. It's not just my observations that seem fresh, new, or different; it's also me. Of course I've grown, matured, gained more experience, and so forth. But the last time I was in Oxford was also right after the summer I got my cochlear implant. I was still overwhelmed by that experience at the time, and looking back I admit that I largely avoided talking to strangers (especially British/international strangers) since it was so difficult. Now, it's still a challenge, but I've noticed that the conversational flow comes so much more easily, even with people who have an accent. I've made friends with the college porters already (more about the structure and operations of the Oxford colleges later), and while out and about I'm much more at ease asking surrounding people for help. And it's much more fun to learn about people from different backgrounds and find what their lives and perspectives are like. That feels like a small victory in its own right!

Arrival Day!

Spare post with few details and no pictures at the moment, but I am back in Oxford! We arrived in London Heathrow this morning around 7am after flying last night from Washington. Sitting on the coach bus sent out to the airport for all the Rhodes scholars, while gazing through the window at the quintessentially English rolling green hills and sheep, tossed me into a surreal glow. (Okay, that might have been the jet lag. I hardly slept a wink on the plane last night and was definitely among those in "zombie" rather than "uncontrollable hysteria" mode this morning.) Could I really be back in this place again? With these people? And about to stay here for two years? I've spent weeks and months thinking about this moment, planning for it, visualizing it, but today all I could do was buckle before the immensity of the moment. Really, what I mean is that all my attempted imaginings and stabs at getting my life in order shifted in the face of the reality: these next two years are going to be huge, and are going to introduce me to things and change me in ways that I currently cannot anticipate, at least not fully.

Having Oxford feel so familiar, both from my time here three years ago through the Stanford overseas program and from my short sweep through this summer, only added to these feelings of incredulity. Nonetheless, I managed to get all my bags into my gorgeous new room at St. John's College (not unpacked yet, but photos coming soon) and took a tour around town before meeting some Stanford friends and former riding teammates for afternoon tea. Worlds intersected there again, but in a wonderful way, and I left to spend a few more hours figuring out internet and IT services at Oxford (read: not remotely resembling those at Stanford!!) before joining some of the other Rhodies at a tavern in Jericho for dinner. At which the customer service was subpar, another welcome-to-Britain moment... oh dear.

Walking back from dinner through the dark roads and cobblestone paths of Oxford, past a crumbling cemetery or two by St. Giles', I couldn't help but reflect on the nature of the scene: take out the cars passing by, and dim the lights in the windows, and I could have been transported centuries ago, or just about. The air felt cool and slightly damp, and with it came a brooding sense of time and age among the stone. This intersection -- between novelty and self-discovery, innovation and stability, tradition and time -- is part of what fascinates me about this place and leaves me wrestling to understand its impending influence in my life. May the explorations begin, then, but only after a good night's sleep. To bed and, as the British say, cheerio.