Speak English to Me

The employment agency must have felt benevolent because I have a new job...and a rather long-term one at that; it could not be more different from my old position at SCVO. The agency had a lead for a position at a construction company, but that fell through, giving me three days to wander around and enjoy the city before starting work at The Viewpoint Housing Association (“housing association” = “nursing home”).

Viewpoint is broken up into several care facilities, and I work in St. Raphael’s, a former Catholic hospital turned elderly care facility. My office is right inside the doors, so I get a great number of visitors throughout the day: nurses, staff, visitors, and residents. It never gets boring (or should I say quiet?); however, most of the staff at St. Raphael’s are new, leaving them the task of figuring out their own job and not having the time or knowledge to tell the poor temp what she is to do. I feel useless waiting for a task to be divvied my way, but I am rarely content simply passing time. It could be much worse…

The patients keep me entertained. Anna gets to tell Kate and me stories about the kids she watches at the nurseries (like the child who was blown over in the wind), and now I get to join in with similar tales. After being introduced to Mrs. Heyes, she was quick to tell me that she went to school for a bit in the States. In school in Scotland, she and the other students had to sit with their hands behind their backs and their eyes no where but on the teacher; things were much more relaxed in America, she assured me. When the tea trolley came ‘round, she was given a plate with three biscuits (cookies). She did not shy at telling the staff that she wants “VARIETY WITH [HER] BISCUITS!” When no one responded to her repeated cry, she stole a biscuit off another resident’s plate and promptly got her hand slapped and the biscuit snatched back by her hungry neighbor. Finally, a care attendant gave her a slight variety to appease her cravings. Peggy, another very active resident, gets very restless and does not like to sit. She does, however like to hold someone’s hand at all times, especially when strolling around the house. If no one is paying her any attention, she will stand in the foyer and cry, “Help! Will no one help me? I need help!” I have been warnedn and she is indeed the resident who cries wolf. When her help cries prove ineffective, she alternates between cawing like a crow and squealing like a siren. By then, one of the care workers will usually come hold her hand. On Friday, the biscuit avenger told her rather bluntly, “Will you shut up? You make so much noise!” Thelma is perhaps the most persistent resident. She is bed-ridden today with the shingles, but she normally comes by several times every hour. While she does wear hearing aids, I am convinced that they do nothing. I have to put my mouth to her ear and practically yell. While this technique works with a Scottish brogue, she constantly has to remind me to “speak English” while talking to her. (Post note: Thelma's husband came to visit today with hearing aid batteries in tow; they had no batteries...)

We did have a resident pass away Friday only a few hours after I left. When I came in Friday morning, Ronnie, the head nurse, was getting Doreen’s files ready so that he could fill in the family. He told them she was not doing well, and the family said just to call the mortuary and not to phone if she passed during the night. It was a harsh dose of reality to know that a family did not visit and did not want to be notified in the night. I’m beginning to pick up that this job may turn into a character-building experience. (Isn’t that what you are supposed to call not-so-pleasant but very real experiences?)

This weekend was a very good one! Anna and I met Kate and Erin and three BUNAC Canadians at The Tass for burgers after work on Friday, and that turned into a night of fun people and long conversations. On Saturday the flatmates and I had lunch at Glenhas (our favorite deli/café) before heading to Our Dynamic Earth, which I always want to call the natural history museum…because that’s what it is. That museum was a well-spent £9.50. It’s very interactive and incredibly cheesy, but so much fun! (A birthday party of screaming 6-year-olds did not prevent me from enjoying myself.) You start your journey in a time machine (naturally) and learn about the creation of our solar system. From there, you travel through the volcanic age, to the ice age, to the dinosaurs, through the Antarctic and a rain forest, and finally to the future to see how our decisions will affect our water source 100 years from now. When you finally return to present-day Edinburgh, you are graciously dropped off at the over-priced souvenir shop. It may be dangerous that we realized Saturday night is crime scene prime time on the tellie. Our Saturday night consisted of spinach and ricotta ravioli, NCIS, CSI Las Vegas, and Law and Order Criminal Intent. On Sunday, for the sake of seeing new things, we visited St. Paul’s Episcopal Church on the corner of Princes Street and Lothian Road for the choral matins service. That evening we met Keith to visit a new movie theater (where we get student prices with our YoungScots card!) for Body of Lies. Good movie! Good weekend!

Thanksgiving is in three days. Since the UK is not prone to celebrate America’s independence (too big of a blow to their ego?), my flat is hosting a regular Thanksgiving feast on Saturday for any and all who want to come. This will be my first attempt at preparing a Thanksgiving turkey without my mom’s guidance… Wish us luck.

So long. Farewell. Auf wiedersehen. Adieu.

Today was my last day at SCVO, and I was very sad to tell everyone goodbye. I have been very lucky to have had the same job for eight weeks and even luckier to have worked with such warm and friendly people at an organisation that I believe is doing a great amount of good. I suppose I should also note that Sunday marks Edinburgh and my two month anniversary. I’m thinking of buying a wide, stylish belt to celebrate. As a ‘thank you and farewell’ gesture, the SCVO networks team went out to lunch today, and I got to pick the restaurant! I chose Blue Moon Café, one of my favorite restaurants just off of Broughton and only a short walk from the office. Oh dear, I will miss SCVO.

I have burned the dickens out of my right forearm. I suppose the scar that will soon be once the burn heals will simply balance the scar on my left hand from a similar accident my senior year. You see, our oven is very low, and I have twice now touched my forearm to a rack whilst trying to remove a casserole dish. I first did it last week while making macaroni and cheese (the good Southern kind with eggs but without the dry mustard—we deemed that an unnecessary luxury), and I did it again last night whilst pulling out our barbecue chicken. The second burn is in a perfect line with the first, leaving half the burn a fresh blister and the other half a scabby mess. It stretches almost two inches across the top of my arm half-way up to my elbow, it hurts like none of your business, and it looks disgusting. Perhaps I should limit my cooking tasks to the stove-top and leave the oven works to Kate and Anna.

Our landlady is due to come into town tomorrow, carrying a second couch and a fringe hinge in tow. Joy told us she intended to add another couch to the living room when we viewed the flat, and two months later, we may finally get it. Granted, we have sat waiting for the delivery that never was on two other occasions, but since Joy will physically be in Edinburgh (she lives in Aberdeen), I have high hopes for this scheduled delivery. We went through the same thing with our kitchen floor. When we moved in, the floor was half-ripped up, and the man failed to show twice to finish the job. However, we now have a complete kitchen floor, so perhaps we will soon have a second couch. Right now we have a love seat, and while we three do fit on it, our couch-lounging, BBC-watching evenings are spent in a close snuggle. It will be nice to spread out. The fridge was a bit be-jiddity when we moved in, and now the bottom hinge has broken in to two. Refrigerators here are dorm-sized, so it is not like we have a 5-foot door swaying too and fro, but our mini-fridge door does fall to the floor when you open it. If all goes according to plan, this will also be rectified tomorrow.

I just finished reading Barbara Kingsolver's Poinsonwood Bible, and it comes with the highest of high recommendations from this former English major (and it's even American literature, which, as we all know, is not my favorite). I think it meant a little something else living away from the US in more basic circumstances than I have ever done before, even though I am fully aware it is leagues away from living amidst war, hunger, famine, and poverty in the Congo. Read it. You won't regret it.

Adieu. Adieu. To you and you and you.

The Globe, The Tron, and Snake Bites

I have not written in a while because I have not had exciting happenings to recall; however, for the sake of updating my blog, I will write.

I am still at SCVO. I have been asked to stay until 14 November. I greatly appreciate the familiar faces and steady income!

I have sent in my deposit to Union- PSCE. I am going to grad school when I get back to the states!

I have met my soul mate. Her name is Erin. I typically do not believe in “soul mates” (certainly not in the romantic sense), but I’m pretty sure Erin and I have one soul that was divided: she was an English major and she appreciates the brilliance that is Sex and the City (the show, not the movie). We met Erin at a BUNAC pub meet last Wednesday. It was her second night in town, and we need friends, so we were a perfect match. We started off at Jekyll and Hyde’s, a pub on Hanover Street, and eventually moved to the Globe so that we could introduce Erin and Keith (another BUNAC-er) to Snake Bites. (A “Snake Bite” is our favorite drink; it’s ½ beer ½ hard cider, and black currant syrup. Yummo.) Over our hot pink beverages, Erin and I discussed my senior seminar thesis: Jean Rhy’s Wide Sargasso Sea as fictional criticism of English culture as found in Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. She understood my angle and appreciated my findings. It was brilliant. While at the Tron this past Saturday night, we had a conversation about Wuthering Heights over pints of “exotic cider.” I felt like a giddy under-grad English student once again. I am also able to make SATC references around without being stared at with blank, un-understanding eyes… or having these same eyes rolled at me. She chips in with my SATC allusions and laughs as enthusiastically as me. (Gretchen, Beth, Bay-Bay, and Shelbs-meister: it is these SATC moments when I realize how much I miss you.)

Halloween was Friday. We were warned that people over primary school age traditionally do not dress up here. Without the ability or the desire to go completely blah, Anna bought us fairy wings and wands. We were precious. (Totes presh, that is.) Angela dressed as a ninja fighter meets geisha character, and Erin was an American college student. Halloween marks the end of the Celtic summer and the beginning of the Celtic new year and is celebrated with the Samhain festival held outside of St. Gile’s Cathedral. The elaborately dressed participants act out something about the winter king driving out all the light, but we were in the very back of the crowd and it was drizzling rain, so we left. We made our way to Frankenstein’s, but it was packed beyond belief (and not out scene), so we eventually wound up at the Globe for Snake Bites. (Trend: we always end up either at the Globe or the Tron.)

The election was Tuesday. I am incredibly glad it’s over with for the simple fact that people will no longer ask which candidate I support--hoping I will say Obama)--even before asking my name; now I will likely be asked about my reaction to the outcome. The US election is a bigger than big deal here. I was one of the few people in my office who did not stay up all night or set an alarm for 4am to check the final results. People were wearing Obama buttons left and right all day yesterday, celebrating the election of our new president. The purpose of this blog is not political, so I will leave this topic at that.

Remember, remember the 5th of November! No one tried to blow up Parliament this year, and the cold rain stopped us from watching the fireworks. But we did enjoy the Celtic vs. Manchester football game--at the Tron, of course.

That is all. Bye just now.

There's No Place Like London

This will be a long one. Bare with me. Lots to write about. (Author's note: Since I enjoy organizing, I have done so to this blog.)

Kate, Anna, and I had our first official European mini-break (American translation: "long weekend") this weekend. I asked for a holiday (American translation: a "day off from work") on Friday and on Monday morning so that we could fly into London on Thursday 23 October and fly back on Monday 27 October.

Thursday 23 October

Tired, weary, and extremely excited, we arrived at our hostel with just enough time to make our beds and to perform the necessary preparing for sleep rituals before hitting the sack.

Friday 24 October

• Tower of London: Since we pay UK taxes, we were able to make a "Gift Aid Donation" (the taxes go back to the Tower of London instead of to the government), earning us unlimited free entry to the Tower for a year. (Anyone interested in going to the Tower?) We took a guided tour led by a retired Beef Eater who actually lives inside the fortress. William the Conqueror built the first structure in 1066, and kings throughout the ages have built additions to make the fortress stronger and more impenetrable. While the Tower is still one of the official palaces of the English monarch, Elizabeth does not lay her head to rest inside these walls. Instead, the buildings have been converted to museums. You have to get there early to avoid the long line at the crown jewels exhibit; it’s worth the early morning to see the 2 largest uncut diamonds in the world! The Tower was also the site for private executions; if you were a friend of the monarch-in-power (ie: Henry VIII's 2^nd wife, Anne Boelyn), you may have been extended the privilege of not being executed in front of a crowd that paid to see your spilled blood. I must also admit that I cast a vote for thinking Richard III killed his 2 young nephews. (I’m a Shakespeare dork; I’ll admit it.)

• Walking Tour: The same company who gives the really good walking tour in Edinburgh also has a walking tour in London, so we caught the afternoon one. We started outside the Tower of London; viewed the Tower Bridge and the London Bridge; heard about the great fire in 1666; saw The Monument, erected as 1) a symbol of London’s ability to rise again after the fire’s destruction and 2) a warning to the Catholics who were surely the cause of the massacre; learned about the Knights Templar and saw their church; and ended with a trip to the WW2 bomb-damaged RAF church.
• China Town: We walked to SoHo for a family-style dinner at The Crispy Duck Chinese restaurant. Yum! On our walk there, an old black-and-white movie was playing in Trafalgar Square. How picturesque!

Saturday 25 October

• National Portrait Gallery: The best ₤11 I spent was to see the Annie Liebowitz exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery. Seeing her work here and there in magazines and hearing her on talk shows in no way does justice to her talent. I got to see her exhibit as she designed it, complete with photographs of Nicole Kidman, Brad Pitt, Jamie Fox, Robert Dinero, Annie’s family (mom, dad, sisters, nieces, and children), and the documentation of Annie Liebowitz’s best friend’s battle with cancer and death. I couldn’t have cared less about the stale photographs of England’s royalty of past.
• Tate Museum of Modern Art: I can now claim to have seen original works by Monet, Picasso, and Pollock, as well as a disturbing video by Paul McCartney. The main exhibit was a 4-story spider standing over 25-30 metal frame bunk-beds sprinkled with political thought books. Explain that one to me. My favorite part about this museum was leaving it. I appreciate modern art’s right to exist, but I appreciate it more easily while not trapped in a 5-story building full to the brim of such artwork.
• The Millennium Bridge (“Wobbly Bridge”): Along with Bridget Jones, we walked on it. Alas, it did not wobble
• Avenue Q: The second best purchase of the trip was a ticket to see Avenue Q in the West End. A personal review: an incredibly witty and entertaining musical not for the young or the easily offended; two thumbs up!
• Picadilly Circus- We walked through Picadilly Circus after the show to see the sights and lights at night.

Sunday 26 October

There was an NFL game in Lodon on Sunday: the Saints v. the Chargers. I still don’t fully understand why two American football teams flew across the pond to play each other, but the Brits decked out in baggy jerseys seemed to appreciate it…

• St. Paul’s Cathedral- We missed the notice to change our clocks back Saturday night, so when we thought we were rushed on our way into the city, we really had an extra hour to kill. After breakfast at the neighboring Starbucks, we went to worship at St. Paul’s, the only Anglican cathedral. History note: After the great fire, architect Sir Christopher Wren designed a new cathedral and a completely new layout for the city reminiscent of Paris. The designs were turned down by King Charles II because it was too Catholic. Wren redesigned a simple church and began to build. In the process, Wren got permission to make alterations to the cathedral, alterations that changed a simple Anglican church into the most beautiful building in the city. King James did not realize the drastic changes until travelling around the city one day. Disgusted, he ordered the cathedral to be demolished; as fate would have it, James lost his crown before his command was carried out.
• Parliament, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and Buckingham Palace: We saw them and took pictures.
• Lunch with Lynn: Kate’s step-sister, Lynn, and her family live in London, and we met them for lunch in trendy Camden. They showed us around my new favorite bit of London, walked us through the market and down to the Loch. They also took us for ice cream at the best ice cream parlor this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Kate, Anna, and I liked Camden so much, we I roamed the streets all afternoon.
• Westminster Abbey: When we visited the Abbey earlier in the day, we saw there was an organ concert that evening. We came back to attend the concert as a peaceful closure to three busy days in London. Note to all travelers: Learn to play the game. Many churches in Europe charge entry; while paying an entry fee is never top on a backpacker’s wish list, these churches and cathedrals really are worth a viewing. The solution is to join worship services on Sunday. You get a little sight-seeing and a little Jesus all in one.

Monday 27 October

We set our alarms for 3am so that we could leave our hostel by 3:25am to be at the bus stop by 3:50 am for the 4:00am bus to take us to the airport. I finished off today with a half-day at work. I’m fighting to keep my eyes open now.

London Backpackers Hostel

From experience at Brodie's Backpacking Hostel in Edinburgh, we learned that large co-ed dorms are the cheapest and are rather tolerable, so our room at London Backpackers was of such description. The room was choc-a-puck with 5 3-tiered bunk beds, but since we beat the weekend rush, these 3 lucky American girls all called dibs on bottom bunks. Our fifteen European backpackers smelled something fierce, leaving us gasping for fresh air by the time our alarms went off in the mornings. Stench aside,the hostel was very large and very nice. The kitchen was always crowded with a fun crowd and the internet was free (if you were willing to stand in a long line to use it). There were board games in the kitchen as well. We took advantage of Trivial Pursuit every night (oh the London night life…My co-workers did give me a hard time for not “going out” at night); our Genus Edition Trivial Pursuit of choice was of the British Persuasion, and answers to questions involved East and West Germany as well as the USSR. Entertaining.

Friday is my last day at the Scottish Council for Voluntary Organisations. I will be excited to start a new job (hopefully very soon), but I will be very sad to leave my SCVO friends.

Cheers.

Euro

Two weekends ago, fed up with our undeniably American wardrobe, my darling flatmates and I planned a trip to Glasgow. Correction: we planned a trip to Primark, a very cheap clothing store, in Glasgow. Despite the harassment I got from my co-workers for bypassing all cultural aspects of the largest city in Scotland, we did only see Argyle street (the main shopping district), and we did only go into Primark. I have never been so uncomfortable shopping for clothing in my entire life, but I must say I am proud of my purchases (including a pair of patterned tights and a pair of skinny jeans). We came out a little bit poorer but a little more Euro chic. Oh, I feel I must continue to boast about my fashion trip outside of my comfort zone by bragging about my new pair of cowboy boots. Here’s the thing about cowboy boots in Edinburgh: they have no practicality, but are rather very fashionable. The lack of practical use therefore removes the need for spurs and steel toes, which therefore lowers the cost significantly. I must also further my pat on the back by boasting that I wore skinny jeans out both Friday and Saturday nights and wore my boots as well on Saturday. I’m beginning to look like I fit in here instead of just feel that way.

I was asked to stay three weeks as a temp for the Scottish Council for Voluntary Services, but today marks the beginning of my fifth week here; they have asked me to remain through the end of October. I am working in membership services, filling in for Sarah, who has been on sick leave. Sarah will start back working part-time this week, so I am here to lighten her load. I really like the people I work with! I sit in the corner of the office with the networks team. I sit beside Paul, who sits beside Doug. On the other side of our desk are Sarah (who is to return to work this week), Margaret, and Jeanette. Behind us is our boss, Paul White, and catty-cornered to my left is Gordon, the head of membership. Now, this is only our corner of the office; there are easily 40 other people in our office. Jeanette is helping me plan my family’s trip for Christmas. She had holiday on Friday, so she spent some of her time searching for leaflets and pamphlets to various places I can take my parents and sister to visit for the day. Paul Hunter (who sits beside me) likes to intermittently offer bits of European/American history. The other Paul always asks how I am getting on and brought me a book to read about Scotland. John Ferguson, a journalist, likes to ask me questions about American culture (we bonded over the SNL Palin skits). The people here go out of their way to help me get settled. I really enjoy working here.

On that note, I have asked for a holiday this Friday and Monday morning; Kate, Anna, and I are going to LONDON! I am so very excited. We fly out on Thursday and fly back early Monday morning. More to come when I have more to write.

Cheers.

Drink the Beer and Not the Water

Our Highland tour was this past Saturday. We left at 8:45am and returned shortly after 5pm, so the trip was not a long one. Much of what we were to experience were very entertaining and well-told bits of Highland history from our tour guide and the beautiful scenery out the bus windows. Since I manage to get road sickness just by looking at a bus, my concentration was not out the windows but on the stories and the upcoming curves and bends in the mountainous roads. It rained the entire day, but our guide explained us to always expect rain in Scotland. That way, we will rarely be disappointed, and besides, if Scotland wasn’t pretty in the rain, no one would ever visit. She also pointed out the estate where Mary Queen of Scots was born and recounted her history for the group. I’ve heard Bloody Mary’s story more times than I can count (especially since Queen Elizabeth I is my favourite English queen!), but it was interesting to hear her history from the viewpoint of a Scot. The whole trying to take the English throne and ruthlessly killing Protestants parts were left out.

Our first stop was the William Wallace monument in Stirling. Our guide compared historical facts to bits and pieces of Braveheart, but overall, she said the movie was pretty accurate (for Hollywood, of course). The most disappointing discrepancy is that Wallace would not have worn a kilt; kilts are specific to the lowlands, so an ordinary highlander would not have sported such an ensemble. Just as we pulled into the parking lot at the bottom of the monument, Mel Gibson’s battle speech played over the speakers in our bus. Kate, Anna, and I finished the speech with the PC fight song, fitting since Saturday was PC homecoming. We hiked (and I do mean hiked) to the top of the mountain to see the monument itself. The view was beautiful!

Our next stop was to see Hamish, a very large Highland cow (apparently named after Shelley McKay Baynahm?). Kate was pretty excited to take pictures for David, her stepfather/a cattle farmer. Funny story: One tour guide used to do a trick where he would put a biscuit in his mouth and let Hamish eat it. Gross? It gets better. The tour guide fell very ill, and his doctor could not diagnose what was wrong with him. Not a cold. Not strep. Not mono. During one of his visits, the guide mentioned his work, and the doctor was curious to hear about the various stops the tour made. The guide was sure to tell his doc about his popular feeding trick with Hamish, and the doctor was quick to take one more test on his patient. Diagnosis: bovine herpes. Henceforth, the tour guides are no longer allowed to feed Hamish by putting biscuits in their mouths, and the tourists are advised not to kiss the cow.

Our final stop was the Glen Turret whiskey distillery. We got a tour of the facility and learned how whiskey (the national drink of Scotland) is made and what the difference is between single malt whiskey and a whiskey blend. Neato fact: At one point in the process, this very alcoholic beer sits in vats for several days, giving off huge amounts of carbon dioxide; distilleries bottle the CO2 and sell it to "fizzy drink" companies, ie: Coke and the famous Scottish IRN-Bru. The tour was finished with a taste of Famous Grouse whiskey and a trip to a room with a video and an interactive floor. When the film boasted Famous Grouse will cool you off when mixed with water, the floor became a stream that rippled where we stepped. When mentioning that the whiskey will warm you when served over ice, the floor turned into a frozen pond that cracked when we stomped on it. Entertaining…to say the least. Good tour.

I was disappointed in the ghost tour we took a few weeks ago (since there were no scary ghost stories included in the tour), so I jumped at the chance to go on another last night. Only… this tour wasn’t a scary ghost tour either. Kate, Anna, and I met Angela the Canadian on High Street for the Mary King’s Close tour of the Edinburgh crypts. It may not have been a scary tour, but it was really cool! If you ever find yourself in Edinburgh, take this tour. Here’s the gist. Until the 18th century, Edinburgh was densely populated in Old Town with very narrow streets and very tall buildings. When the city grew and built new buildings, they demolished the top levels of the buildings, allowing the rubble to fill the “closes” (these narrow streets that ran off High Street) and used the bottom stories as an already existing foundation for the new structures. So, much of the city is built on buildings! Our tour took us down to parts of Mary King’s Close, these houses and streets that exist below the city.

Our guide reminded us over and over again to drink the beer and not the water. Since women could not be hanged, they were drowned in Nor Loch, a manmade lake that used to surround the castle, as a means of execution. When people thought cats and dogs were the sources of the plague, all pets were drowned in Nor Loch. All the filth gathered on the streets—mud, household garbage, human waste, remains from slaughter houses, etc.—would eventually be washed down to Nor Loch. Since this lake was the main water source for the people of Edinburgh, it makes perfect sense why you would want to drink the beer and not the water. I suppose the city eventually realized the sheer filth of the lake did not do much to help the state of the city and its inhabitants, so it was eventually drained. The beautiful Princes Street Gardens now fills the former Nor Loch. It’s no wonder why the grass, flowers, and trees are so luscious there…

Photos for your Enjoyment

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2019870&l=3cfd0&id=49500008
arrival, walking tour, Calton Hill cemetery

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2020060&l=ced11&id=49500008
our flat, Calton Hill, Highland tour

Pictures I've uploaded so far. Includes our walking tour, Calton Hill Cemetery, and some other good stuff.