End of the first week in London, beginning of the first week of classes

The past three days have been marked by two words: pain and starvation.

Let me begin with Saturday. Saturday morning I woke up bright and early to make a skype call back home, and then I rushed to shower and throw together a small breakfast before football (soccer) tryouts. We were supposed to meet for the tryouts at 12, and my friends and I arrived a little early. I don't know who told us to meet at twelve, but we ended up sitting around for 45 minutes or so, while the captains joked around and showed off their BA cars (for these UK student football captains, that apparently means a car the size of a Honda Insight with beat up rims). Then we went to the field and warmed up for another 45 minutes while the captains who were late took their time showing up. Then we played football for a solid 4 hours. I thought we'd be done by 3, but I didn't leave the field until 5. Needless to say, I was starving by that point.

That night I had a hearty meal with the good old dub-J (B.J.) from 'SC at the hard rock cafe, and then we walked around near Harrod's and Hyde park on my sore legs.

Thinking I had not made the football (soccer) team that day (there were plenty of better players than me) I decided to go to the american football team practice the next morning, so again I woke up early and joined their crew. We started at 10, and so again I scarfed down a quick breakfast thinking I would be able to tide myself over until practice ended, which I surmised should be around noon. We were quickly whipped into shape by an American coach wearing a USC sports jacket (fight on!). More than one kid doubled over and puked on the field. I've played football since I was a little kid, but I never knew how much technique and strategy went into each position-I had a blast learning all about the different positions.

I ended up actually making the football (soccer) team as far as what I can tell from the not-very-informative text I received from one of the lower division captains, so now I have to decide between the two sports. Playing football would be a blast in the UK, but playing american football in full pads and getting to knock people flat would also be ridiculous fun. Hard life choice here.

Today was my first class. Lots of music geeks discussed how we enjoy music and what features make it interesting to us. My science-major-self kept quiet and enjoyed listening. I'll have to do some background reading before I start piping up to join the ranks of the intense musicians. After class I chatted with Chris (Agape staff here), and I then went over to Piccadilly circus to get some much needed athletic pants (vs. shorts), and a decently warm jacket that wasn't the size of an eskimo's parka. I found a jacket at a 3-story H&M after much deliberation, and a lot of my decision on the particular jacket was based on what they did and didn't have my size in. After taking some back streets to see Handel's house (which was closed, but still cool to see), I walked back by that H&M only to discover another massive, 3-story H&M half a block from the first one. Apparently somebody missed something when H&M was planning out their locations. I decided against going in and seeing what sizes the second mega-H&M had available because I am not a shopping fan, and I had already spent almost 2 hours walking and shopping. Bleh.

Tomorrow is my biology of cancer class. My lecture theater is glass-paneled and sits atop a 30-story hospital. Be jealous. Very jealous.

A London Whirlwind!

Well, quite a bit has happened in the past few days.

Of biggest importance to me is the fact that I went to ASDA (Wal-mart owned, that says it all) and purchased L18 of food. I am no longer perpetually starving-just occasionally, because now I can stop the hunger when it sets in. Currently I'm finishing off a microwaveable chicken/bacon pasty that makes my 3rd meal of the day (yes, it is 12:30 am).

Tuesday, I went out with the Christian Union and had great fun learning how to joust. I defeated my first opponent (a slightly taller guy than me). Emboldened by my success, I was preparing an impregnable strategy that would make me undefeated throughout the rest of the matches when a short asian girl killed me in the very next round. Maybe I shouldn't count my eggs before they hatch. After that we went to Nando's, a portuguese chicken eatery. I boasted to the kids around the table that I would choose the extra hot sauce. They warned me to re-consider, and I decided to just go with the hot. That'd be impressive enough since they had ordered medium at the highest. Hot should be a piece of cake-after all, if the fair-skinned Brits can handle medium, my swarthy half-Indian self should be able to saturate myself with the hot sauce. Or not. I had to go back for a refill on the water half way through my chicken wrap. Danielle, the blond British girl beside me, smiled smugly and told me that she warned me. I guess if I wanted to play with fire, I should have known I risked getting burned. And humiliated. :)

Wednesday I played football for almost three hours. I LOVED it. I'm not quite as good as a lot of them, but I can hold my own. They play with tons of quick passes, and soon I was making a few assists for our team. Tomorrow are tryouts. I already have a back-up plan if I don't make it on the football team. I'm going to try out for american football. yes, you heard me correctly. All 130 pounds of me will try out for the American football team here. They just started two years ago, and they don't have a lot of players. Plus, all the players I saw couldn't have been more than 20 pounds heavier than me. I figure that if I ever want to play legit pigskin football with helmets and pads, my chance is now-where all the big guys first go to play rugby.

Wednesday night I went out with a friend from home to tour the Inns of Court. I have to say that the Brits have a sweet educational set-up for their lawyers. We visited the Maughan Library. Google image it. How cool is that? It happens to be my school library-I feel like a super spoiled kid. We also hung out in the courtyard of the church whose steeple modeled the idea of wedding cakes (it's called St. Bride's church, go figure). We were chatting it up in the courtyard while Rowan Williams was lecturing inside. No biggie in London. I walked home that night, and got some killer pictures of St. Paul's Cathedral from the Millenium Bridge, except they were a bit blurry. Unfortunately I can't upload them at the moment.

Thursday, I went over to dinner at the Sneller's house. Can I say that I love their four kids? They showed me all their star wars legos and their nerf guns. Anna, the 3-year-old, showed me how I could be shot with a nerf gun.

Today, I went to the Globe Theatre on a whim (I went by myself), and got to see "The Merry Wives of Windsor" for L5. Not a bad deal! I laughed my head off. It was witty, clever, and also meaningful. I'm glad I got to see it before the open air theatre shuts down for the winter. Tonight I went to the Malaysian fair in Trafalgar Square with some friends from Singapore and tried their food. Quite tasty actually. Then I went with some awesome french horn buddies (you know you're cool when you have pals who play the french horn) to a concert at St. Martin in the Fields of Vivaldi's Four Seasons and Gloria. What an amazing concert! I really enjoyed the Gloria since I had the joy of playing the cello part many years ago. We grabbed some tea from the Malaysian Fair (good stuff, just like Indian chai), and then headed to the Texas Embassy (it's actually just a restaurant, but a legit Texas Embassy did exist in London at one time, google it if you don't believe me).

Now I'm back at home enjoying my chicken/bacon pasty and getting ready to head to bed so I can not embarrass America too much at the football tryouts tomorrow.

Pray for guidance in some life issues I'm contemplating at the moment and humility. Also play that I won't scare away the kids at the Sunday night youth group where I'll be playing guitar.

-Cheers!

Mid-Freshers Week

What does 'fresher' mean? In the States, one would answer by saying, 'an adjective describing the quality of being more fresh, i.e., being more recently grown, born, said, felt, etc.' Here 'fresher' has a similar meaning but is actually treated as a noun and signifies 'the verdant sapling of a first-year student who waters his roots with much alcohol and fertilizes it with drugs (and who does so as a social activity with other young saplings).' Such is the life of a fresher-or at least from what I've seen of it.

Fresher week is actually not that bad. I've had a lot of fun learning how to be a freshman all over again and have the favorite, 'what do you study,' 'where are you from,' 'where do you live' conversations. I should stop being sarcastic. I started this paragraph trying to explain how it wasn't bad, and the next sentence was dripping with sarcasm about how bad it actually was. Back to fresher week not being bad. I've enjoyed meeting lots of new people-it's incredibly how many people you can meet when everyone is still making friends. And the drinking isn't too ridiculous for most people, I did exaggerate the previous paragraph a bit to round out the sapling metaphor. Most people here (especially the few Christians I've met!) are sensible about drinking and don't get drunk. I tried some cider (mildly alcoholic) the other day. Tastes just like the sparkling apple juice we drink on New Years.

I had a blast with the Snellers, the family with Agape (CCC in the States), who are working with Agape at King's College. Their four kids are hilarious, and their church is great! I look forward to an amazing semester working with them to spread the gospel at KCL. I went to the Christian Union (Intervarsity in the States) meeting today, and thoroughly enjoyed meeting some other Christians who live near me! I feel like it would be hard to live a firm Christian walk here as a Fresher just starting college, but it was awesome to meet some Brits who did.

Word of the day is 'manky' meaning 'ghetto.'

I had just under a 2 hour break today, so I walked from school to the British History Museum. Right on the ground floor, the first thing I bumped into was the Rosetta Stone.

I nearly fell over backwards. In all the pictures, it gives the impression of being the size of the tablets that Charlton Heston holds in "The Ten Commandments", but this thing is almost 4 feet tall, and over 2 feet across. I was impressed.

Some of the other highlights are seeing the humongous Pharoah head and fist (the fist reminds me of that poster of Travis and I). It's gargantuan. I'm currently reading Chesterton's, "Everlasting Man" and he talks about the genius of the Egyptian civilization. No wonder. I have to say that people back then could make far more impressive sculptures than what we make today.

The lady below also fascinated me. She was the work of a Roman artist from the 3rd-4th century A.D., if I remember correctly. Some lucky wanderer unearthed the thing in the late 1700s just like that. Would you believe it? It looks as good as new. I was mid-way through my first-floor tour of the museum, all the while muttering 'amazing,' 'holy cow,' and 'sweet mama,' when the guards shooed everyone out for closing time. I'll just have to spend more of my school breaks soaking in thousands of years of history (for free!). What a chore.

The Facade of the British Royal Museum

Welcome to Great Written

Yes, I know-the title is incredibly bland. I can't help it, it was the first thing that came to mind this afternoon after 18 hours of travel. Let me explain it this way, "Great Written-where I write great things about Britain." Eww. Still makes me gag. Oh well. The classiness of my blog must pay homage to the inspiration of the moment. Enough of the title and on to the content.

Both plane flights were quiet and uneventful. The same cannot be said of the trip through the London tube to my apartment. I had two guitars, a hefty duffel, and a massive suitcase with the top handle broken off. I was lugging at least 100 lbs around. I made the mistake of going for the shorter route that involved two line transfers rather than the longer route that required only one transfer. Each transfer consisted of the treacherous leap across "the gap" between the door and the platform that we were continually being warned about by the PA system, as well as an assiduous ascent up a few flight of stairs. I got a lot of pity looks and a few offers of help as I trudged up the stairs the first time. The next time I figured out a more convenient way to strap my bags to my body and was able to battle up the stairs at the cost of only a few minor collisions.

Moving in itself was pretty painless. I have a parsimoniously-sized room with yellow walls and blue curtains. The neighbors I have met so far are Alex from New York, Stephanie from Northwestern, and Harry from Slough (just West of London). They're all a lot of fun, and two of them are fellow aspiring doctors. I'm going to try out the shower now as I smell pretty weird after I utilized ample Bod and deodorant in a cover up operation this morning before all the errands began. The shower itself is an interesting story-the shower head is simply attached to the wall in the bathroom and there's a drain in the floor-no tub, no plastic flooring, just a shower curtain that cordons off the shower and toilet (why?) from the sink area. This oughtta be fun.