Author: Dorothea

I'm a PhD student in Berlin, Germany, focusing on contemporary transnational literature and pretending that I can predict how our current media reality will affect the written word. I started this blog in 2014 to record my experiences in Germany while studying abroad in Hamburg, Germany through the Federation of German-American Clubs. I went back to the US for a while, but obviously came back. While here, I hope to continue learning about different cultures, people, and politics, to continue exploring the inner and outer experiences of people in literature, and to continue running distances of 13 miles and beyond.

Guest post: “Erasmus gave me an opportunity I would never otherwise have had”

At the risk of putting a Meatloaf song in your heads, this opinion piece by Eloise Millard for The Guardian takes the words right out of my mouth.

You can read it here or in the text below.

The loss of the scheme would be a devastating blow for the social mobility of students from disadvantaged backgrounds.

Fri 22 Mar 2019 09.00 GMT

Joining the tremendously long list of downsides to the UK’s imminent departure from the European Union is the possible loss of the Erasmus programme, an exchange scheme that has given more than 3 million students the chance to study in 37 countries since 1987. Of course, there are many other exchange schemes across the world, but the majority require the student to have several thousand pounds spare for tuition, accommodation and so on.

Losing Erasmus is another devastating blow for the social mobility of students from disadvantaged backgrounds. Not only are they about to lose the freedom to live and work in the EU, they have also lost incredible opportunities to immerse themselves in another culture and build invaluable skills, which research has proven sets them up for the world of work much better than their peers who don’t undertake Erasmus placements.

After the sudden death of my father during my second year at university, I decided to apply for a placement in Berlin. The prospect of having to perform academically while I was grieving was one I couldn’t face. Escaping it all with €2,500, which I spent visiting many European cities, and my student loan, seemed more much appealing. I won’t pretend it was an easy year; the minimal studying and endless partying was reserved for wealthier students who’d headed off to the US and Australia. I moved to Berlin not knowing anyone and with a very loose grasp of the language, courtesy of my lack of GCSE German tuition.

For the first couple of weeks I lived in a hostel, trying to bag a flatshare in Berlin’s rental market, writing hundreds of emails a day in patchy German. Over the year, I encountered doctors, bank managers and civil servants, none of whom spoke English. Before I left, I was pretty socially anxious – even making a phone call was a daunting prospect – but I was forced out of my shell because no one was there to help me. Berlin undoubtedly made me more confident, independent and open to the unknown. I learned an incredible amount about myself and the world. I now have couches to crash on around the globe, from Venezuela to Vietnam.

I undertook rigorous German lessons and spent my evenings learning verb conjugations rather than frequenting nightclubs. At the start of the year, I was immediately detected as a Briton the minute I opened my mouth to mumble a Haben Sie uhhh …, which was typically met with eyerolls and a reply in English. But practice makes perfect, and, by the time I left, I was even able to banter with Berliners. I was one of two native English speakers in the class. For both of us, German was our second language; for everyone else it was their third, fourth or fifth. I soon realised British students were far less rounded than their international counterparts, and I felt a sense of shame at my own shortcomings. However, this was nothing on the profound embarrassment I felt eight months later when I arrived in class on 24 June 2016, my peers, like myself, at a loss as to what had just happened.

It deeply saddens me that I was one of the last cohorts to take an Erasmus year, and that these unique, mind-broadening experiences have been ripped from the hands of students who would have felt the benefit for the rest of their lives. I know for certain that I wouldn’t be writing for the Guardian if I hadn’t lived in Berlin. Now, I’m much more the type to grab life by the cojones, rather than resigning myself to my comfort zone. I will be forever grateful for the scheme, which gave me the confidence to take the plunge into a field I’d long wanted to work in, and to be myself, unapologetically.

-Eloise Millard is a journalist and filmmaker, focusing on poverty and inequality

More on BREXIT (yay) coming soon!

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playing tourist- central Florida and the Bahamas

The old irony–that one can live in the same place for 10-20+ years and still it takes a visitor or special occasion (like a hurricane) to actually see some of the things people come from all over to see–is true.

In the past, it took guests visiting us (or one very special birthday) to head up to Walt Disney World, family friends (my dad was in the Air Force) going up in space ships to see Cape Canaveral, and Hurricane Irma to actually take a cross-Florida trip. I used to take the trip across Alligator Alley every other week when going to school, and a few times I would drive with family or friends through the state to visit other family in Atlanta, SC or NC. However, despite taking all kinds of trips in Europe, it’s been a while since I took a trip in the US.

This past Spring Break- well, my mom’s spring break. I had more of a semester break, if you will-, my mom and I had a kind of wild time. The first goal was to visit a friend in Tampa, and then see where we get from there. We’d crossed New Orleans off the list (south Florida to Mississippi and back in 4 days? N’uh uh) and even decided Tallahassee would be a bit too far. Instead, after a nice evening walking around Safety Harbor, a neat little city on the Tampa Bay, we headed east towards Winter Park, planning a stop in Winter Garden to check out the West Orange Trail. This was after realizing that we wanted to go to Winter Park, not Winter Haven. Honestly, you’d think Florida in winter was some kind of thing.

Turns out, it’s hard to travel with a decades old GPS, faulty notes, and little sense of direction. What should have taken 2 hours turned into 4 and just as the afternoon sun had more than peaked, my mom and I landed in Winter Garden, which was a surprising little town. It’s actually quite beautiful and the West Orange Trail was quite put together, even if in hindsight it was all very Disneyish. There was also very little actual nature along the trail, which was a shame. Admittedly, actual nature in Florida gets pretty nasty, so maybe that was okay. If you can make it, do find a way to drive through Winter Garden on your next trip through Florida.

After a surprisingly eventful bike ride due to a flat tire and no spare, my mom and hopped in the car and tried to make it to Winter Park before dark. The question was whether we would try to book it back home that evening or spend an extra night. After stumbling upon a Quality Inn and the historic district, and then a Trader Joe’s, we decided it would be worth spending the night rather than driving tired and arriving home exhausted.

Turns out the idea was good, except the hotel location clientele made for a creepy experience. I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone except to someone I didn’t really care about. So that’s that. Also, public service announcement, if other hotel guests warn you to bring the bikes up to the room and not leave them locked outside, listen to them.

All in all, it was a bit stressful of a trip, but good considering that we basically waited until the morning of before we decided to even go.  And it meant I got to see some more of my home-state. I think my favorite part was driving up the 471 through the Green Swamp Wilderness Preserve and the Richloam Wildlife Management Area. There was just such a feeling of old Florida and it took me down memory lane. It reminded me of a time in fourth grade where I was in charge of explaining all the flora on my elementary school mini wildlife preserve. I really enjoyed that. I even won a young maple tree for an Earth Day design contest once and it’s hopefully still in the yard of my family’s old house. If I ever go back there, that’s what I’ll go to look at.

Anyway, it was really cool to do something like this with my mom and connected me back with Florida. Just when I was thinking it was the last place I’d ever want to go back to…

Another cool thing I got to do with both my mom and dad (hi Papa!) was visit the Bahamas. More specifically, we visited Grand Bahama. And even more specifically, we visited Freeport. But most specifically, we spent more time on the boat than any of the Bahamas. It was okay, though.

My parents and I decided that next time we would visit one of the other islands, and we noticed that we were rather isolated on the trip, spending an hour on a tour of the city, where some pretty cool things were pointed out, but I also almost laughed out loud when Wendy’s and Burger King were pointed out as attractions; I’m glad I didn’t, though. Apparently, the city was hit hard by the past few hurricanes and the economy has been suffering for a while, so it was actually a bit of a sad site. After the bus tour, we were dropped off in Port Lucaya and were the only people there, other than the vendors and shop keepers. The beach was beautiful, but had one too many locals to give a firm “no” to, so that was slightly too uncomfortable to enjoy properly.

All in all, it actually reminded me a lot of Florida, except people drove on the left side of the road and the people seemed nicer. The weather and the flora was very similar to what we had just left. However, we made a point to eat the local dishes: conch, stewed fish, sheep’s tongue and we even drank some “Bohemian bears”- which is what it sounded like when the tour guide said Bahamian beers. The sheep and fish was better than it sounds, and while the conch was a bit disappointing, I wonder if it would have tasted better in a salad. I’d definitely try to find the Sand’s beer again.

But as stated, the trip was short, only 6 hours off the boat. It was my first first cruise, so I kind of enjoyed the experience on board as much as off. And once we got back to solid land, it was back to normal routine for my parents and some normal Florida sun ray catching and running (and even a bit of working!) for me.

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Call this post a prosaic ode to Florida, if you will. The weather wasn’t always perfect (a bit too hot and humid for March) and the normal life stresses can get one down, but a visit home is always nice, there are enough things to do, and it’s kind of wonderful to call Florida home (until the next local news pages just make me reconsider).

Cheers!

 

a(n) (unfair) comparison between Cambridge and Berlin (part 1)

Despite being  unqualified to comment on differences between Berlin and Cambridge, since I’ve only been here for a month, I figure that’s more than a lot of people, so I’m going to go ahead and do it. Also, it may seem unfair comparing a small university town in England to the capital of Germany- but there you go, those are already the first differences.

I was asked yesterday what my favorite part about Cambridge is and after thinking about it for a second answered: how close everything is.

Now, don’t get me wrong- the public transportation in Berlin is amazing and for every point of departure and destination, there are at least 3 options leaving within 5 minutes or so. However, the city is quite large and the commute times can be a bit rough. My brother had an hour long commute for a year and mine to the university are always at least 35 minutes (if the connections are all perfect). In comparison, almost everything within Cambridge is within 1.5 miles and a 10-minute bike ride. I go home a lot more in-between classes, library work, and evening work or activities, which is a nice lifestyle change.

Another thing I really like about Cambridge is how everything feels like it’s designed to take care of as much of the extras of adulting as possible. People who live on campus in the US know this feeling of having meals and some housekeeping taken care of, but in Berlin, this is not a thing. I can have amazing meals in the Mensa (cafeteria) during the day, but on days I don’t go to the office or classes, I’m on my own. Even though I like preparing my own meals, if I didn’t I would still be much better taken care of in Cambridge.

That being said, the prices here take some getting used to. Maybe it’s the conversion that’s just making me anxious,  but after coming from Berlin, I feel like I’m spending twice as much a week on groceries. Thank goodness for Aldi, because that at least balances out 12 pounds spent on the cheapest entree and a beer at any pub around.

At the same time, in Cambridge’s favor (and being a student here), I do appreciate the housekeeping. Initially I thought it would be weird to have someone come in my room once a week to clean- I mean, my mother taught me better! I can do it myself! But now I do appreciate it. I don’t have to think about it and can focus on work- which is the idea, of course. I also am grateful that the communal kitchens are cleaned, because from experience I know that the chore charts only work as long as EVERYONE follows it.

Alright, that last one wasn’t Cambridge proper, mostly just dorm life, but since the life here seems to revolve around students (and tourism), it’s not a far stretch. That’s something I miss about Berlin- the diversity of people and diversity of the things people do. It’s the center of political and cultural life in Germany, and since those are two of my priorities, I feel quite comfortable and always engage in a lot of intellectual conversation there. Here in Cambridge, a lot of people do things other than studenting- there are tons of music and sports groups- but it feels like everyone has to do everything so well and people take themselves too seriously. They tell themselves they don’t take it so seriously, and try to be tongue-in-cheek about it all, but then they do seem ind of disappointed if you didn’t take it seriously. Furthermore, Cambridge gets a lot of credit for being an intellectual hub, but it’s like they only know how to be intellectual in theory. They’re missing some of the practicality of life getting in your face that I’m so used to in Berlin. Still, it seems like Berlin is facing its own challenges with increasing hipsterfication and gentrification, so who knows how long it is before I’m complaining about this in Berlin as well. I will say that for its small size, Cambridge offers more than its share of theater and music.

Let’s see; I’ve covered food costs, student life, intellectual life- I guess what remains to comment on is the feel of the city and its architecture and green spaces.

I can say that right now I appreciate Cambridge and Berlin equally- Berlin has so much innovation in its architecture and the mix of old and new just hits me every time I see it, but there’s something ultra charming about the old English houses and I also just keep stopping and snapping a photo when I see a new angle on one of the old colleges, or go down some new cobbled street. I so often feel like I can’t take a breath that’s not imbued with history. And don’t get me started on the Cam River- how clean everything feels- or the pretty flowers that are appearing everywhere.

it’s beginning to look like Spring. back end of King’s

I guess, as a runner I’m also grateful for the proximity of Cambridge to seemingly endless fields. I say seemingly, because as I discovered during my first runs in Cambridge, there are a lot of private fields and, in general, just a lot of fences in Cambridge. Colleges are closed off from one another with them, streets often end in more fences. It’s a bit frustrating, since even though Berlin is a concrete jungle, I can just keep turning another corner and almost never end up in a dead-end. Furthermore, Berlin has the Grunewald and the Tierpark and various other green spaces. Cambridge’s green is around the city- still very green, but you have to find it first. And it’s not many trees- just a lot of open fields- which is lovely until you’re trying to get across in 25 mph winds.

But I’m not complaining. I’m quite happy here and I’m getting done what I came here to do, so that’s the most important part.

On that note, here’s the lecture hall photo I promised. It doesn’t seem as novel as it did the first time I saw and sat in it, but it’s still pretty cool.

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Cheers, – Dorothea

 

some London

Well, it’s been over a week since I ended the “week in the life” series and I thought I’d get back with a post much sooner, but now you get to read about three adventures scrunched into one.

But before I do that, let me start off with two notes:

  1. I’ve thought a lot these past days about my choice to come to Cambridge after just two years in Berlin. I have to admit, it’s hard again to be in a new place with new people having to meet with strangers every few days under the guise of networking and socializing. I get really anxious beforehand, get through it alright I guess, and then am anxious about it afterwards. I also wonder if there’s something about me that the first time I’m in the same city for more than a year since undergrad, I find a way to leave again. I know part of it is ambition and wanderlust and seeking out opportunities for academic growth and getting to know new things, but part of me thinks I’m constantly running away from something. I can remember very clearly in high school when my parents were thinking about moving three states north and I was actually excited about the possibility, because I thought it would give me a fresh start. What am I running away from? only I can answer that, and don’t worry, I know here and now is not the time.
  2. on that note, why is it so easy for me to go on for 20-30 minutes writing, but I sit in the same kitchen as a housemate who’s cooking  for the same amount of time and can’t exchange more than five sentences with him? I know it’s not just me, but seriously, I wish I could be as relaxed, cool, and charming as I am in writing (or how I like to believe I am in writing).

But enough of that. Let’s start with the journey to the town centre (don’t kid yourself, Cambridge, you say you have a city centre, but you’re really just a town) where I found the weekly market. It’s a great place with all the typical stalls plus delicious food booths (one offered everything made with Halloumi) in the grace of the Great St. Mary’s Church.

Cambridge City Centre Market

As one can see, the majesty of the buildings and spaces in Cambridge just keep one in awe. But then there are also the small things around town that also make me smile once in a while, like this statue/fountain type thing:

Cat and Mouse fountain

But I have to say, Cambridge very quickly can feel too small. I say it’s only a town in jest; it is a city, but it really does just feel like an overgrown village. A multitude of libraries, churches, and stores do not a city make. To be honest, I was even beginning to miss the sound of 18-wheelers rolling outside my window and so last Wednesday, taking advantage of a return ticket to London I had accidentally purchased on my arrival to Cambridge, I drove to London.

Beyond the fact that it’s just so cool to say “I went to London for a day-trip,” the city, its sights, food, and people, gave me a bit of sanity of which this ancient academic high-pressure-pot had threatened to relieve me.

I did some touristy walking:

And some research exploring:

And some fangirling:

I walked from London Bridge Station to Brick Lane, over Spitalfield, Shoreditch and Finsbury, and through Saint Pancras to King’s Cross. And I generally had a good time, rounded out by some draft Guinness across from the British Library, for which I’m now also a registered Reader. I came back to Cambridge, quite happy with my adventure and three days later made the same journey, though this time with the Hounds and Hares to make it to the Hyde Park relays.

Now let’s not kid ourselves, I was easily the slowest person in a Cambridge jersey, but it was a nice experience all the same. Plus, I got to see a little more of all the cool things just south of Hyde Park that I missed over the summer. 

And I got to see the Royal Albert Hall get dressed up for the 72nd British Academy Film Awards…

Preparing for the BAFTAs at Royal Albert Hall

And? Am I happy about returning to Cambridge at the end of such another day? Of course! Especially since it means I’ll be getting back to work 😉

 

A week in the life of a visiting Cambridge student: Tuesday and Wednesday

I really should have tried to post yesterday, because the Wednesday bit deserves its own post (I’m cheating by mentioning what I did last Wednesday, which marked my official matriculation to the University of Cambridge. Why I have to matriculate even though I’m only here for six months, beats me. But I rolled with it.)

But first, Tuesday:

woke up, fast forward through a few hours at the desk, fast forward lecture, fast forward more hours at another desk, fast forward to interval practice with the Hounds and Hares, where I got my pride handed to me on a platter to swallow, once again (and this was a taper workout, since the H & Hs are preparing for BUCS on Saturday). But it’s getting easier each time I go. My expectations now are way down, so after 2 sets of 3′, 2′, 1′, with 30 seconds between each rep and 3 minutes between the two sets, when I was in the middle, and not the end of the pack for the 200s (which goes to show, I’ve got the fitness, just not the speed over short distances), I felt pretty good. I also ran into the professor who is supervising my work while I’m here, and felt a bit guilty for not working until I realized- wait, he was in the gym, too.

But the life of a CU student isn’t all work and running. I happened to walk by the ADC Theatre during my first week and picked up their program list. I saw that the next play they were doing was the Michael Frayn adaptation of Anton Chekhov’s Wild Honey, and so I went online, booked the ticket and forgot about it until Monday evening.

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my push pins just happened to be bees.

Wild Honey, also called Platonov after the title character, was Chekhov’s earliest known completed work and this production of the ADC was quite good, and I would have enjoyed it very much had it not decided to rain on my way over to the theater (which was only a mile away, but still) and gotten me soaked. After shivering through until the intermission, I conceded I should probably head home. Good thing too, because in those 1.5 hours the rain had turned into snow. Thankfully, I didn’t wake up with a cold this morning.

Wednesday:

My actual Wednesday today wasn’t exciting at all. As I mentioned, it sprinkled snow overnight, which made my morning run exciting (read: exhausting) and biking to get groceries a bit of an adventure. It also made for a nice view from my spot in the library.

But otherwise, it was a really quiet day. Not like last Wednesday where I was invited to both a Formal Dinner and a Ceilidh.

Random fact, but did you know that the word “blazer” actually originated in Cambridge? Once upon, the Lady Margaret Boat Club (ooh fun fact within a fact: rowing is one of the few sports at which Cambridge students compete at an elite level) had scarlet jackets that they referred to as blazers. Sports clubs in Cambridge continue to distribute blazers (usually blue) to the successful members of their teams.

I learned this when I was looking up the dress code for a Formal Dinner, and this is something I’ve been quite anxious about, already thinking about it in Berlin while packing. Turns out, there are varying degrees of “formal” at Cambridge, and a Formal Dinner is usually just “smart” (basically anything goes except jeans, sneakers, or flip flops) with the wearing of a gown.

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please excuse my very blase look and lame background. I didn’t think I’d share these with anyone except my parents and now I no longer have the gown (rented it), so this will have to do.

A gown, you ask? The men wear them too?

Yup. You didn’t hear the Hogwarts students complaining about their robes, did you? Except maybe Ron Weasley and his dress robes. The gowns are part of the academic dress of Cambridge University and there are a few rules as to who (with what academic degree) wears what gown. And they, for all their pomp and circumstance, are comfortable enough and make one feel wizardly and foolish at the same time. A few of my fellow students and I agreed that probably everyone realizes it’s a bit silly, especially for something like a dinner, so we’re all just participating in this joke of tradition. Or something.

The dinner itself was a three course meal with the three knives and two forks and two spoons and two glasses and just way too much going on. But it was a nice experience, and the professors I ended up sitting next to and across (apart from a debate that hovered dangerously around violent about Brexit) were pleasant and made sure I got up when I was supposed to and kindly looked past the fact that I managed to spill wine all over the crisp, white table cloth (in my defense, I was sitting where two tables were unevenly joined).

After successfully making it through dinner, and post-dinner drinks, there was the ceilidh.

Pronounced more like “kaley,” the ceilidh is another example of spelling not quite matching up with how it’s pronounced. Since being here, I’ve learned that in words that come from Scottish Gaelic,  an “mh” is more like a “w” or “v” sound while the “dh” is a “ch” or “gh” sound. That is why ceilidh is also written ceili and the name Niahm sounds like “Neve”. I still don’t know what to do with “bhfuil”, which is supposed to sound more like “well,” but it’s a good thing I’m not here to learn Gaelic.

Really, though, the ceilidh is a social event that can involve music, storytelling, singing, and dancing. Last Wednesday it was a dancing ceilidh organized and hosted by the MCR, which does this annually. MCR, which stands for “Middle Combination Room” is a collective name for graduate students, fourth-year undergraduates and postdocs at the college– basically a graduate student society. Imagine a barn dance or square dances or any other organized dancing event where someone at the front tells everyone what to do from traditional dances and then everyone just has fun, that’s what this was.

It was a lot of fun, and a pretty good way to end the week.

And thus endeth this mini-series in my life. Now I’ll return to my regularly scheduled programming of random posts and observations.

 

 

A week in the life of a visiting Cambridge student: Monday

Although, as I’ve mentioned, the week here doesn’t “officially” start until Thursday, it doesn’t make getting up Monday morning any easier. However, it helps to have the obligatory lecture to get one out and ready long before noon.

Today I visited a lecture on colonialism and anti-colonialism, a history with which I am fairly familiar, but can always use a brush-up, especially by scholars who have devoted much of their careers to researching and understanding the topic. It’s a bit surreal to talk about British imperialism and colonialism from within Britain, whereas I’ve always talked about it from an outsider’s perspective, either the U.S. or Germany. I also visited two talks in a research group I’m participating in (on Nationality Construction and Identity, I think you can kind of start to get an idea of what I’m interested in for my PhD). They were in Gonville and Caius College, and I’ll give you three guesses on how to pronounce Caius. Much to my surprise, this is the “Gonville and Keys” everyone was mentioning my first week here. Why “Caius” is pronounced like those things you use to get into your car or front door has to do with the vanities of an Englishman from the 17th century. It’s not a lot different than Hyacinth Bucket trying to get others to call her Mrs. Bouquet in Keeping up Appearances, mind you.

Name aside, the college is old- almost as old as Trinity. And maybe even more beautiful because of its relative smallness.

And today helped me begin to understand why Noël Coward sang “”Only Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun.” Since being here, I’ve only properly seen the sun twice. One of those times was today- and oh, what a sight. It made me want to stand in its full strength and just let it warm me up- which, in 3 degrees Centigrade is quite a feat. It also made me want to take pictures of places I’ve been talking about:

The University Library, lengthwise and vertically to try and give an idea of how impressive this building is.

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The river Cam, with a few people getting punt rides (I’ve yet to go on one of those- or do rowing, for that matter)

and

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The back of Clare College

The crazy thing is, these sites are all within 5 minutes of one another.

For dinner I had reheated noodles with pesto and cheddar cheese, so that pretty much tells you how exciting the rest of my day was. I’ve been here for two weeks now! So, I think one can say I’ve pretty much moved in.

Side note: I will reply to the comments to yesterday’s and today’s posts tomorrow! I just wanted to get this post out on its proper day, but I really should be finishing something else first. Thanks for your replies, though! I do appreciate them.

A week in the life of a visiting Cambridge student: Sunday

CUHH

Cambridge loves its acronyms, and this one stands for the university-wide Cambridge (cross country) running club: The Hounds and Hares. I’d scoped out this group already in April last year when I found out I was coming to Cambridge, and one of the first things on my list since arriving was joining a group run. The captains of the men’s and women’s teams put out weekly running meet-ups and they were quite easy to email with, but the group is incredibly competitive. Last Sunday when I went to meet-up for the group run, I was left behind within the first mile, getting too lost to ever have a hope of catching up to the group. This Sunday, I came with a little more speed and gumption, and the course was more straight-forward along the Cam river, so I managed to not quite stay with the main group (who went out for 12 miles at 7mpm or faster), but I managed to stick to the smaller group that went 8 miles at a more reasonable pace after losing the main group (it was still around 7:40 mpm). Needless to say, being at the back-end of a pack of runners and still doing sub- 7mpm was a huge slice of humble pie. It was a definite character builder these past two weeks.

Brunch

Brunch is a staple of the weekends in all the colleges, but it’s also a post-run tradition- and a nice way to socialize with the others. Each week a different runner hosts it in a different college, and this week it happened to be Trinity which was… woah. It was a surprise. Already waiting for the others at the Great Gate of Trinity College was a treat.

trinity-college-great-gate_cambridge college

Quite the meeting place, huh? (Source)

Here’s a map of the grounds by David Logan from 1690:

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(Source) This will have to do until I make it over back again to take pictures.

But that didn’t even properly prepare me for the dining hall. The founder of Trinity College, Henry the VIII, presided over it and I was getting huge Hogwarts vibes. I could barely contain myself, but I of course had to act cool around the Trinity students and other runners.

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Dining hall during the day (Source)

Oh! And because some may find this interesting, brunch in Cambridge can have waffles and/or pancakes, but it also consists of black pudding, eggs, sausage, baked tomatoes, and baked beans. It initially sounds quite odd (and some of the things look a bit off-putting), but you can’t judge it until you’ve tried it! While I didn’t really like the black pudding, I liked the beans. That could become a good, hearty (farty) -ha ha, sorry!- staple.

Having a run at 10 and then brunch at noon means that I didn’t really get started with work until 2 PM, but the nice thing is, if I hadn’t done my shopping yesterday, I would have been able to today- but only until 5 PM. Unlike Germany, England has its stores open on Sundays, but unlike the US, these hours are fairly drastically shortened. On this note, a small comment on the service culture here, which includes all sorts of verbal niceties like “alright there, love?” “cheers.” I still haven’t figured out the appropriate response to “cheers,” so I’ve just been saying it back.

Chapel

 

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After a few hours of laundry and library (I KNOW; my life is so interesting!), I headed over to the College Chapel for an interdenominational church service. Considering that I’ve been baptized and gone through confirmation, my relationship with the Christian religion has been a bit shaky since high school. Part of it was convenience, and while I know that going to church should not necessarily be convenient, having a chapel on campus is really helpful and I think visiting the Sunday evening service could become a habit. I enjoy the singing of the hymns, listening to the sermon and the choir, the organ music, and the shared dinner together afterwards.

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If anything, it’s an hour of introspection and talking to myself, if not to God. Since my college is one of the newer ones, I also hope to make it over to King’s College or Trinity (*swoons*) for a service before leaving here.