Archive for the ‘British ways’ Category

Rites of summer

Thursday, July 29th, 2010

Two momentous events happened in July: the first cohort from Aber’s Psychology Department graduated and my friend, S, got married to D in a lovely wedding in the East Midlands.  Both were festive, exciting days and full of fun cultural observations for Dan and me!

On the surface, graduation is pretty similar to what I’ve seen in the US.  There is a procession at the beginning (usually Elgar), students get called on stage, and people leave with a degree conferred upon them.  Some things that were different:

  • the local dignitaries are invited so the mayor came in her mayor bling, the councilmen, etc.
  • the names are announced by the Deans of each Faculty and the degrees are actually conferred by the Vice-Chancellor; each time the Dean goes up or descends from the podium, they have to acknowledge the VC by lifting their cap and the VC acknowledges them back the same way
  • there is strictly no cheering, whistling, tossing of mortar boards, or other celebrating during the ceremony (everyone is warned not to do this beforehand); after each group of students is announced, there is some quick clapping and then the next group comes on
  • no diploma or even diploma holder is handed to the students; it comes in the mail later
  • the students came on stage in groups and when each name was read, they nodded at the Vice-Chancellor
  • each group of students was escorted from their seats to the stage by marshals who are dressed differently and carry walking canes (like walking sticks). According to history passed on from R, these sticks used to serve a purpose. Back in the day, they would announce the student’s name along with his degree classification which was the first time the student knew what his final grade average was.  Sometimes, they would be so outraged at the results, that they would try and rush the presiding officer, so the marshals would have to beat them back with the sticks. Now it is just ceremonial, as the students find out their grades online the week before.
  • when the students come on stage, they always have their backs to the audience; their parents never have an opportunity to get a frontal picture of them (I snuck these with my phone)
  • every kind of degree, Bachelor, Master, Doctoral, gets treated in exactly this fashion with pretty much no deviation

This local dignitary wears his tri-cornered hat and fur-trimmed robe

The student nods to the VC, the marshals flank the group and note the stick

Students come up in groups, VC acknowledging with his hat

Congratulations to our first graduates!

10 days later, we drove to a small village in the East Midlands called Ketton to attend S and D’s wedding.  Before we get to the wedding part, allow me to rave about the sights we saw along the way, such as the village of Rockingham, home to the Rockingham Castle (continually occupied since its construction 900 years ago) and Welland Viaduct set in a beautiful romantic valley (which floods regularly in the winter and spring).

Rockingham Castle from afar

Approach into the little village of Rockingham

Super cute thatch house in Rockingham

Welland Viaduct is the longest masonry viaduct in Britain at 1.2 km and 82 arches

These were just icing on the wedding cake, though.  The wedding itself was beautiful!  The church was over 800 years old, and the first vicar retired in the 1200s.

The sky turned from gray to blue just as the wedding began

The groom’s father is a methodist minister and was an integral part of the ceremony.  We sang an opening and closing hymn, and as we learned before, the kiss came in the middle of the ceremony.  The church was packed full of people decked out in their best outfits, and I even adorned a bird in my hair as women do here for weddings.

Oops, an elegant bird landed in my hair

We walked a short jaunt to the house where S grew up.  It is an amazing house with huge grounds, including a waterfall, pond with ducks, and bountiful garden (some of the wedding food came from the garden!).  Two big tents were sent up, and we dined in style.  First, paella was cooked in huge paella pans and then afterwards a hog was roasted (vegetarians, avert your eyes for this one).

S & D bring a bit of their adopted Spanish culture into their wedding

After the recent NYT article about pig roast, I was ready to try this sumptuous snack!

The evening’s festivities were interrupted when Dan was stung on the foot by a bee/wasp/horsefly of some sort.  There was an inverse relationship between the amount of pain he was in (almost none) and the fuss and attention he received (a lot of attention by a lot of people).  Nevertheless, we pressed on and joined the happy couple in dancing to some groovy tunes.  What a fun and memorable wedding!  Congratulations S & D!

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British amusements (or bemusements)

Monday, July 19th, 2010

I know we’ve been making you jealous with all of our traveling, so here’s a post back to cultural observations.  A few that I have found amusing or bemusing.

1) Remember those coin operated rides in front of supermarkets?  From what I remember, they usually fell into two categories: animals (tigers, dinosaurs, etc.) or vehicles (space shuttles, the Batmobile, etc.).  I was shopping at my local supermarket today and discovered that the Brits don’t waste their time with such frivolous fantasies.  Who wants to ride a dinosaur when you can sit by the side of the road and catch people speeding?

Teaching kids to stay on this side of the speed limit

2) The Brits may be speaking English longer than any other people, but they sure do it in funny ways!  There is a theory of teaching English that says that people will learn about grammar by using the language, which is the pedagogy implemented around here.  Some of my British friends claim never to have learned what a noun, verb, or preposition is in school.  Okay, so maybe I can be a stickler sometimes (I studied Psychology and English and now lecture and research the Psychology of Language, so I admit I am language-obsessed), but how do these sentences sound to non-Brits?

  • “I was sat in the lecture when the game was on.”
  • “He was stood in the queue with his friends.”

Dan and I find the use of the past participle in place of the gerund (aka the present participle, and no, I didn’t have to look these terms up) like fingernails on a blackboard.  Yet, we hear it all the time, from colleagues, students, people on TV, everyone.  It is the equivalent of saying “She was watched the news over dinner” which probably doesn’t sound correct to anyone.  We have tried to get to the bottom of this usage, but have either come up with blank looks (“What’s wrong with saying that?”) or something about it being a regional colloquialism.

3) I can’t remember if I mentioned before that my university is officially bilingual.  Everything (well, almost everything) is done in Welsh and English.  Even though not all classes are taught in Welsh, we are supposed to do most of our official correspondence in both languages.  This policy includes emails (if you send me an email when I’m away, you will get a bilingual auto-reply), letters, and phone calls.  Click here to check out my current answering machine message.  I can just about make my way around the shops in Welsh and have composed about a dozen Welsh emails to various people, but it still takes me a long time to get the (very long) words out!

We’ll get back to traveling stories soon.  Dan’s next post will be about our adventures in Oxford and Stratford-Upon-Avon!

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Hopping over to Germany and Austria

Wednesday, June 23rd, 2010

I got to experience one of the perks of living in Europe when I traveled a few weeks ago to Germany and Austria.  My friend, A, was in Munich for 3 weeks and invited me to come along for a weekend trip with her to explore the surrounding areas.  I haven’t seen A since I left California, and the offer came right when I was in need of some girl-time.  I decided to take the last bank holiday weekend in May to see Munich and Prague with her.  However, a terrible experience with EasyJet completely ruined those plans.  First they delayed the flight.  Then they canceled the flight.  After the cancellation, they tricked us into leaving the airport without rebooking us on anything.  They said they could possibly reschedule us to fly out two days later (which for a weekend trip is pointless), but that we would have to do it online because there was literally not one customer service agent there who could do it for us.  To rub salt in the already pussy wounds, in order to access the internet to rebook, we would have to pay for the computer usage time.  I know I am becoming more British because upon learning all this, I was only moderately outraged.  My reaction was more like a shrug with a sigh of “typical.”  I am still awaiting my refund.

Instead, I booked two one-way tickets on Lufthansa (much better!) and Singapore (a LOT better!) airlines for the following weekend.  I missed out on Prague, but I would get to see Salzburg, a place I haven’t visited in 25 years.  I also would get to see Munich, which I have only transited through previously.  If A weren’t there, I don’t think I would have taken the time to see it.  Munich was great!  The train system, in typical German fashion, is punctual, efficient, and clean.  There are boards that tell you to the second when the next train will arrive.  It just makes you wonder why it can’t be like this everywhere.  We went to Nymphenburg Palace, which was the summer getaway for the royalty who were tired of the big city.  It has completely over-the-top Rococo style decor, elegant and decadent.

Decadence at Nymphenburg Castle - this is only the hunting lodge

Yet “over the top” is Mad King Ludwig’s comfort zone.  He was born at the palace and in one of the displays, we saw his collection of sleighs and carriages.  I can’t imagine actually riding in one of these things, but they are pretty impressive!

Cinderella's pumpkin has nothing on this monstrosity!

I got to see other nice parts of Munich and enjoyed it very much!  It seems like a nice city to live in.

Munich Glockenspiel

The next day, we hopped on a 90-minute train to arrive in Salzburg.  If you want the side-by-side comparison of our adventures and The Sound of Music, see A’s collage here.  Mozart and The Sound of Music draw thousands of tourists to Salzburg every year.  There is so much charm in this little town that it is no wonder 7 Von Trapp children got along so well with their stepmother.

25 years ago, my parents forced me out of the car to take a picture of this fountain

We took a tour to see some more of The Sound of Music sights, further afield, and one of the highlights of the tour was going on the luge.  Okay, maybe that doesn’t sound that impressive, so let me try again.  We did the luge in the Alps.

Nobody luges like A luges

The trip was more fun than I could have hoped for, and years from now, we will have some great memories of our silliness during our adventures!  Thanks, A, for the wonderful weekend!  I miss you!

Everyone is cuter when they have Alps as the background

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Books, Festivals, and Hay

Sunday, June 13th, 2010
Dan in the Festival Book Chair

Dan in the Festival Book Chair

Even before we moved to Wales, A & D (the parents of the man, R, who married Dan’s second cousin, L) said to us “You must visit Hay-on-Wye”.  They are lovers of books, and Hay-on-Wye is a town of 1900 people and 30+ bookshops.  In addition to the fascinating history of Hay becoming its own kingdom with a King Richard, the town holds an annual festival called The Hay Festival.  From what I could gather, the Hay Festival is 2 weeks where authors of all types come to talk about their upcoming books and for intellectual discussions about all sorts of topics, all within a festival type environment which surely is similar to other festivals I’ve been to.  Since my plans to go to Prague were scuttled by EasyJet, Dan and I decided at the last minute to spend the last May bank holiday amongst the literati.

Hay Festival 2010

Hay Festival 2010

We booked two different talks (you have to book tickets to the various events, no just sauntering in!) which promised to be interesting.  The first was “America and the Challenges of ‘Popular’ History”.  We picked it because we have been verily amused by the few encounters of the British version of American history. For example, we read on a historical monument once about the British giving America its independence in 1781, a date not many Americans would acknowledge as when we became independent (most Americans would say 1776). We hoped the speaker, a Cambridge professor of American history, would enlighten us on other interesting historical differences. Instead, he talked mostly about how difficult it was for an academic to put all of American history into 15-minute sound bites on BBC Radio. It was somewhat interesting but not quite what we expected.

It's all about books at the Hay Festival!

It's all about books at the Hay Festival!

The second event we attended was called “The Rage Against God”. We should have been tipped off by the name of the speaker, one Peter Hitchens, but not knowing our British Who’s Who, we innocently attended expecting a philosophical discussion of religion and politics. We were in for a big surprise. Apparently, the speaker, brother of Christopher Hitchens, came to Christianity as a logical step that followed on from becoming a parent (?!). Also, the audience who came to see him were not really sympathetic to his views and were mostly there to heckle him. In modern Britain, I was intrigued to see Brits joust and spar not with lances and battle axes, but with words and sarcasm. Not the wit of Oscar Wilde but still entertaining. We didn’t learn much, aside from the fact that we won’t be buying his book.

We also got in our dose of celebrity sightings, including Rob Brydon, Audrey Niffenegger, and Fatima Bhutto.  Since we’ve never been to a British festival like this before, we weren’t sure what qualified as “festival food” but were happy with our venison burger (very basic in comparison to the fancy food at the restaurants and cafes there).  We even got a dose of opera in the world’s smallest opera house!  Having been to both, I can definitely say that the Hay Festival is in a different world from another famous festival, the Folsom Street Fair.

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World Cup Fever – Caught It

Saturday, June 12th, 2010

Tonight was the opening game of the World Cup for both England and the USA.  While Wales hasn’t been to the World Cup since 1958, most of soccer football fans here cheer for England.  Then again, it could be that most of the football fans over here are from England originally.  England has a collective angst concerning their national football team.  They think that since they won the world cup in 1966 they should win every subsequent tournament.  Every win is made possible by the greatest goals scored and every loss is due to a complete lack of effort and skill by overpaid players (see the comments at the end of the article).

We joined a large group of geographers from the University to watch the game together.  I have been doing my best to trash talk the big English fan at work.  Fortunately the USA was in a no-lose position since they were expected to lose.  A tie is just as good as a win for them against England.  Hopefully our boys can do what they need to do against Algeria and Slovenia.

Oh, I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but why did all the English fans sing My Country, ‘Tis of Thee throughout the match?

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Attack of the 50-foot Shredded Wheat!

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010
My giant cereal next to a full size apple

My giant cereal next to a full size apple

Okay, it’s not really 50-foot.  But it is larger than what I was expecting, on the order of 4-inches by 2.5 inches.  I am not much of a cereal eater (mostly because my lactose intolerance doesn’t allow me to have milk with the cereal and I don’t like Lactaid) but recently decided to try some shredded wheat.  I had some that were like Frosted Mini Wheats but instead of frosting, there was honey nut.  It was very tasty and definitely bite-sized, even though “bite-sized” isn’t stated anywhere on the box.  When I ran out, Dan bought me a box that was pretty similar looking except minus the honey nut crunch part.  It just said Shredded Wheat.  Well, it’s never too early to reduce my risk of heart disease, I thought.  I thought it was odd that they had individually wrapped servings inside the box, but chalked it up to the manufacturers here individually wrapping things I’m not used to.  I grabbed one serving to take with me to work, sat down to munch and check my email and discovered that there were only 2 giant shredded wheats instead of lots of mini ones.  Surprised doesn’t even cover it!  I’m now choking this meal down with the help of water only.  It is not unlike eating cardboard.  I have a feeling even Siena isn’t going to want to eat it.

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Extra Bedding for a Reading Wedding

Monday, December 21st, 2009

Two weekends ago we spent two days in Reading for a wedding in which we brought extra bedding.   IAC and I awoke early on Saturday and picked up our friend K for the ~4 hour drive to Reading to attend the wedding of our new Aber friends T&C.  Fortunately only one of us got car sick taking the Welsh backroads for two hours (that would be me).  After checking into our hotel room early and sneaking one of us into the room for two (that would be me again with an air mattress and sheets, IAC and K decided they would be the legit ones), we drove to the site of the wedding, the Reading Grammar School.  I know that for some of our American readers, getting married at your middle or high school may not sound that exciting, but keep in mind this school and building are old, really old.  The school is 884 years old as it was founded as part of the Reading Abbey in 1125.  It was since refounded in 1486 and this is the date when they started keeping track of who is in charge.

The wedding ceremony took place in the chapel.  As this was our first British wedding, we were excited to see the differences between our familiar American weddings.  All that I knew about British weddings was that Hugh Grant usually shows up sooner or later.  The other thing I was told to expect was the presence of “hats” and kilts.  I use “hats” loosely because I am sure that some of them may have just been wild birds that came to nest.

Hats and Kilts

Hats and Kilts

The other differences between the two types of weddings were the order of events and the legal hurdles that were required to be jumped.  When the rings were exchanged and the vows given, C lifted T’s veil and sealed their love with a kiss, I glanced over at IAC to comment on the quickness of the wedding but reviewed the program and realized that we were only half-way done with the ceremony.  After more legal necessities spoken by the officiant, the signing of the registries (plural) took place.

Signing their lives together/away

Signing their lives together/away

When the ceremony finally ended, all of us walked over to the main school building to partake in mulled wine and hors d’oeuvres.  The wine was good, especially in the cold, windy Saturday afternoon.  The time before the reception was spent alternately finding more finger foods and where the warmest part of the school was.  After a giant group photo was taken we took our seats at the reception.  To appreciate the multinational flavor of the wedding, at our table were two Americans (us), a Welsh woman, two Dutch, an Aussie, and an English woman.  It is possible we were the mutants at table 9 (start around 1:35).

The night finished off with some classic cake cutting:

T & C cutting the cake

T & C cutting the cake

and some good ol’ embarrassment:

C had the time of his life

C had the time of his life

As we filed out of the school to send off the bride and groom we heard someone fall around the corner behind us.  We turn to see what the commotion is to find a drunk Scotsman being supported by his kilt wearing Father and brother(?) to a bench outside the school.  What was most of note was not the fact that someone was so roaring drunk at the wedding, it was the familiarity at which the family (the Mother was there too) knew what roles to take in the situation.  As I have said before, events like this don’t do anything to dispel stereotypes.

All in all it was a great weekend to share with friends on their wedding day and the beginning of their new life together.  Congrats T & C.

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Trying to get to the motherland

Sunday, December 6th, 2009

I’m going to try and write this post in the most delicate way possible.

Dan and I are heading off to Taiwan in a couple of weeks.  We are going to see my aging grandparents and also attend some family weddings.  The flight that we booked has a ~20 hour layover on the way there and back in Beijing.  Naturally, being children of wanderlust, we decided to take advantage of those 20 hours outside of the airport which requires visas.

In our research, we found that we could apply for several types of tourist visas, from the minimum 1 entry in 6 months to the maximum multiple entries in 24 months, all for the same price since we are Americans.  We could qualify for the maximum visa because I was born in Taiwan, have relatives in the mainland, and Dan is my spouse.  Might as well apply for the maximum then, right?  Even though we were US citizens living in the UK, we were allowed to process our application through the embassy in England instead of going through the US, so that’s a relief.  After making sure every last bit of our visa application was perfect, we sent it into a visa processing center who would take it to the embassy for us.  The next day I got a call and after several back and forths, it turns out that there were some problems with our visa application.

  1. We could only apply for the maximum visa if we can prove a direct relationship with a relative living there (father, mother, sibling) which is proven via birth certificates.  Okay, I don’t have that, so I asked to go with the second best option, multiple entries in 12 months.
  2. The multiple entries in 12 months visa is not available to Brits (unless they can prove a direct relationship with a relative, etc.).  It is, however, available to Americans.  When I tried to tell the visa service center this discrepancy, they refused to treat us as Americans saying that we had to follow British policies even though we were not British.
  3. On the application form, it asks for place of birth, and they double-check this information against what is written on your passport.  Taiwan, R.O.C. is what I wrote and what I have always written as my place of birth.  The service center objected to this nomenclature and insisted that I submit an entirely new application with a correction.  “We don’t recognize Taiwan, R.O.C. only Taiwan, China.”  Well then.  If that were really true, why am I applying for a visa anyway?  I should just be allowed to go!

After much harangueing, I gritted my teeth and just did what they said.  I certainly felt under the thumb and slightly less interested in going, full stop.  We finally got our visas in the mail early last week.  All I can say is, I’m excited to see my family and eat all the good food!

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Hen Do

Tuesday, November 24th, 2009

I recently got to participate in a time-honored British tradition.  Our friends, T & C, are getting married in December and have been busy planning all the details for the event in Reading.  Before the big day, the bride and groom say farewell to their single status in the company of their friends.  The groom goes off on a stag do and the bridge goes off on a hen do (known as bachelor party and bachelorette party in the US, respectively).  Wikipedia emphasizes that for the bride, this is a normal party “in the style that is common to that social circle”.  I haven’t quite figured out what our social circle is, but the events of last weekend helped to give me an indication.

Eight of us girls drove from all directions of the island to meet in the Bath/Bristol area to spend the weekend in a chapel and schoolhouse that was converted to holiday accommodations.  The main event of the weekend was shooting.  Yes, I said shooting.  Our hen, T, requested an outing that was related to hunting, and after spotting the fox, climbing on our horses, sounding the horn, and releasing a pack of beagles, we were on our way.  Okay, not quite.  We actually ended up driving to a lodge outside Lacock (appropriate for a hen weekend) and practiced clay pigeon shooting and air rifle target shooting.  Having never held a gun or rifle in my life, I am glad that my first time was in the company of women and not the former VP.  The rifles were very heavy and hitting the target accurately was no easy feat.  I can’t say that I was a natural at this sport because of two incidents 1) instead of pulling the trigger, sometimes I would pull the metal part immediately behind the trigger which resulted in absolutely nothing happening and 2) we were each given 6 pellets to shoot our targets with and when my target came back, it had 5 holes in it while next to me, K, had 7 holes in hers.  Oops.  Despite it being a cold and rainy day, we had a really good time.

Shooting clay pigeons is not as easy as it looks!

Our hen, T, watching me shoot pigeons.

Ready, aim, fire!

Ready, aim, fire!

After a cup of tea back at Ebenezer chapel, we headed into Bristol for a night out.  We had a seafood dinner and then hit the clubs.  I don’t know how representative the club we went to was, but I was very impressed.  First, they pump air through the vents so that you are actually slightly chilly.  The sweaty BO smell from many people dancing in a small space is therefore diminished.  Second, there was an impressive number of bouncers around who were circulating to make sure everything was going smoothly.  They did everything from direct us to the coat check to making sure drinks were kept off the dance floor (so no spillage would happen, not anything to do with breakage b/c drinks were served in glass-like plastic cups).  I was also surprised at the amount of dancing that was actually done by men here.  In the US, the men often stay around the perimeter and do the head-nod dance with their hands in their pockets.  But men, whether in a group or by themselves, were actually on the dance floor, making fools of themselves like the rest of us.

Everyone getting on the dance floor

Everyone getting on the dance floor

Another tradition for hen dos and stag dos is dressing up.  Our group did not, but we saw lots of other groups who did.  One stag party made their stag wear a patient’s dressing gown while the other men were dressed as doctors.  We saw a hen group that had some sort of super-hero theme to it.  And flying in the face of all reason, another hen group was dressed up like grannies.  Instead of choosing to wear sexy, revealing outfits, this group of ladies donned baggy dresses and gray wigs for their night out.  Only in Britain!

Why dress 10 years younger than your age when you can dress 40 years older?

Why dress 10 years younger than your age when you can dress 40 years older?

The next morning, we recovered from our festivities with a relaxing time at the spa.  Bath Spa, historically renowned for its spas with healing power, has actually only one spa in town, Therme.  We hired out the Cross Bath exclusively for our use and soaked ourselves until we were pruney.  Then we headed into Bath centre for brunch at the Pump Room which is home to the old Roman baths.  It was a very elegant finish to the weekend.

Our private spa in the original Georgian setting

Our private spa in the original Georgian setting

All in all, I had a fun time.  There were definitely lots of British-isms that I experienced first hand (I am still not used to the awkwardness of meeting people for the first time), and I think T received an appropriate send-off into marital bliss.  Looking forward to the wedding in a few weeks!

We dined under chandeliers and accompanied by a pianist

We dined under chandeliers and accompanied by a pianist

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Hear ye, hear ye!

Tuesday, November 10th, 2009

I saw a job opportunity today that made me giggle.  In Cardigan, a

Cardigan's call for town crier

Cardigan's call for town crier

similar-sized town to Aber south of here, is hosting a Victorian night with authentic Christmas activities like caroling and tree lighting.  To add to the authenticity of the event, they have put out a call to fill the position of town crier.  Oh yes.  If I put my mind to it, I could become a town crier.  I can project my voice, and I have good diction.  I am also willing to dress up in official costume.  I even satisfy the “can speak Welsh and English” condition (more or less).  In these difficult economic times, we should look for whatever opportunities to line our pockets!

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