The Gabtrotter

Leigh, My, and I took a road trip through southern Australia. Here is a short glimpse of our experiences:

This is a short video in Vienna, Austria. Sarah shares a story about her grandfather, while we are sitting in a Viennese wine garden.

A short glimpse of Sarah and I at our last night in Venice

You see this message:

This is what my room looks like at Clare College at the University of Cambridge.

(view of library from Clare College)

A couple of weeks ago, I acquired a library card to the general University of Cambridge Library. It’s not your typical library; at least I have never seen such a place like it before. First of all, you have to have a purpose to be there. One cannot just waltz in to take a look around, this is a very “special place.” I don’t know the generalities of the whole place, so I will just talk about my experience.

Once I actually received a library card, I was very excited to take a stroll through this seemingly remarkable place. The librarians didn’t really give me a briefing or anything. The only thing they told me was to leave my book bag in the baggage room, and that when I was ready to come in, I could scan my card and be on my merry way. I hastily left my bag where other bags were hanging, all unattended, unlocked. There were lockers but everyone seemed to honor the honor system here, so I left my belongings and decided that no one would find anything to steal in my bag anyway (which is sadly true).

(scanning entrance)

I half-proudly sauntered through to the scanning device with card in hand, expecting some kind of beep telling me to go back where I came from, but nothing happened. So, I made my way up the stairs and was greeted by three directions, and from those directions the possibilities seemed infinite. People passing by all were very scholarly, like they knew what they were doing and why were there. Me, a mere observer (with an idea to check out a play), felt like I had landed on a type of academic moon where reading glasses and cardigans were the suit of choice and cartons of books and wooden desks were its crater covered terrain.

I needed to loan out Yerma by Lorca so I decided to duck to the corner where two computers shined. I typed in Yerma and sure enough they had it. I looked at a map of the library on the wall and found the section, the general reading room, which incidentally was right around the corner from me. I cut through a room filled with grey and people standing at computers to get to this reading room. The room was dead silent, except for the librarian typing away on his Dell. I asked him if he could show me where this number was, pointing to a tiny piece of paper with the library code for Yerma. He smiled at me, and I explained that it was my first time here and didn’t know how this worked:

“Ok. Well, you can either request this book online or in the section of the library where the book is located. Since you are already here, what you need to do is grab one of those slips of paper and fill it out. The book will be grabbed for you within the amount of time listed on the board.”

I thanked him for the information, and turned to the board. It read 45 minutes. Clearly they are really fearful of people stealing their books, because they don’t let you bring a bag into the library. However, to have someone else grab the book for you, that seemed a little ridiculous to me. Nonetheless, I needed to read the play for the next day so I decided to fill it out. I dropped off the green slip and decided to walk around the library while I waited for the book to meet me on shelf G.

Now, I would have taken pictures but A.) I didn’t have camera and B.) They don’t allow cameras into the library. Even though I could easily sneak my stealth, bite size Canon with me, I have decided to honor their system.

I remembered seeing a sign to the “rare books room” and decided that might be interesting. Who knows what rarities I might find? Well, I walked in and there was a glass entryway that read, “do not push, wait to be let in” or something to that effect. Already, this place seemed to be like a china shop. It was a large brightly lit room, filled with tables and people working behind them. I walked around the room, trying to decide what to do. The librarians/door guards were watching me as I walked around the perimeter. I didn’t know if I was allowed to grab books from the shelves (they didn’t look that old to me), but I decided not to in case an alarm would go off and I didn’t really know what the procedure was. Once I got close to their table again, I smiled at them and walked out.

I thought the place was rather boring after I once was out of it. What were people looking at with those rare books? Words on a page are words on a page, old words on old paper read the same as old words on new paper.

I meandered my way upstairs and found the manuscript room. It looked just like the rare books room, and decided not even to wait to be let in. I then decided to leave the section all together and made my way to the courtyard. It wasn’t a pretty courtyard, just a place for people to smoke. Since I didn’t smoke and I didn’t feel like sitting down, I left.

I walked around and was brought back to the spot of three directions. I still had 20 minutes to kill. I decided to go back to Clare College (which is conveniently right across the street) and drop off my bag at my room, just to kill time.

(view of Clare from the library)

I returned in a half hour and my book was waiting for me. I took it downstairs to check out, but I was told that my card wouldn’t let me take it. My card didn’t give me such a privilege. I shrugged and gave the book back and left. It wasn’t a rare book, but I couldn’t take it out. I’m not sure what the rules are there, or why I couldn’t check out the book specifically. What good is a library, a place of intellectual comfort & stimulation, if you can’t utilize the books in a way that is comfortable and stimulating for you?

I’m sure there are different rules for students who are there full-time, but I would rather have a welcoming take-all library like Northeastern any day. Sometimes going away from home makes you realize what you love about home to begin with.

(Cambridge’s Library)

(Northeastern’s Library)

Note:

Each College does have its own library, that does function like a regular library. But, the University library functions quite differently. Over the summer, there is a specific summer library which has been great, but it’s about the size of the living room in my last apartment.

Walking home from a poetry reading this evening (from my favorite professor may I add), I had all sorts of ideas of things I wanted to write about. Now, of course, I am at a loss for words.

Yesterday I went to London for the first time. The train system here in Cambridge makes no sense to me, because everyone I have talked to has had a different price for when they have taken it. Well, the Cambridge to London deal I got was a real DEAL. I arrived at the train station at around 11AM, and bought a roundtrip ticket, which included “underground” for 19 pounds. It also gave me a 5-pound river cruise near the London Tower. Such a great deal. Buying the ticket of course was a slight ordeal. Here’s the dialogue:

Me: Hi, could I please get the cheapest ticket to London?

Lady: Sure, with underground?

Me: Underground? (in my mind I am thinking maybe underground is a faster train that goes under the streets)

Lady: Would you like underground included with the ticket?

Me: Maybe… what is it… (5 seconds pass) … oh yeah yeah, I’ll take it. (finally realizing that underground is metro)

It’s funny when little cultural differences like that happen.

I was looking for a movie theatre on tottenham court road, and went up to the lovely people outside some theatre:

Me: Hi, I’m trying to find a movie theatre… Do you know of one around here?

Her: Movie theatre?

Me: Movies, you know… I mean cinemas? I’m trying to find the cinemas.

Afterward I cracked up a little, and wondered what the right name for the movie theatre was… I still don’t know.

Anyway, London was great. It’s one of the few places outside of the USA I  think I could happily live. People had told me that it was like Boston, but I didn’t see that at all. Boston is a very unique place. I thought about it today, and I wouldn’t mind if I ended up settling down in Boston- I love it there. I want to go somewhere else for a bit though, after I graduate… but maybe coming back after I am done doing whatever would be nice.

It’s been a little over two months since I have arrived in Europe and exactly two weeks since I have been at Cambridge. What an exciting journey this all has been.

Cambridge has proven to be an unbelievably intellectually stimulating experience. I am constantly writing down titles of books I must read and poems I must lookup and writers I need to know about. At first I was very nervous about the very full days, but I have seemed to adjust and I have met some great people to help make the days pass by quickly; however, there is no rush for them to do so. I went through a period in Portugal where I just wanted time to fly, but now that I am here and have regained composure and self-confidence I realize how great it is to be where I am right now. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m really looking forward to the months ahead.

It’s amazing; I’ve been so lucky and have had such a great time in college. I was looking through all of my pictures on facebook today and was deeply moved to see all of the different grounds covered and more importantly bonds built. A year ago two people that were some of the closest people to me in the world were still in my life, and today they are no longer here but still somehow I am ok- I am happy. Nonetheless my heart still hurts when I think about either of them: the death of my aunt and the split up with my lover/best friend. It amazes me how even with different grounds covered you still take who you were with you. I am still very much the same, just more chizzled by experiences and much more aware.

Already, I have finished four classes in this Academic boot camp. Wordsworth vs Byron, although was a rather dry topic at times, I have come to learn an insane amount about both and have especially found (as you may have read earlier) a fondness for Lord Byron. I also took, Charlotte Bronte Jane Erye & Villette, Sophocles Tragedies and my most favorite of them all: Variations of the Tragic. Variations of the Tragic was a great class where we read different modern tragedies. The play I was most moved by was Death of a Salesman: it truly is a must read for Americans. It touches upon such important and relevant themes in American society—something I am sure many many can identify with. The conversation in class over the play was very invigorating, and it was especially interesting to see the perspectives of non-Americans in reading such an American play.  After the class my heart was racing and I my mind was reeling from academic debate, I loved it.

Things I haven’t liked? Oh of course there are a few. One is that everyday there is a mandatory Plenary Lecture before lunch. We have had a few interesting speakers over the past couple of weeks, but most unfortunately they have been dreadfully boring. A lot of these academic types just get up to the podium and read their academic papers. They assume the audience has heard of some of these obscure authors or topics. I’ve been unimpressed by these people, how can you teach for one of the best universities on the planet and not know how to engage an audience – it’s one thing if that’s not what you do – but as a “professor” one should know how to profess properly and interestingly. Fortunately the professors for my classes have all been pretty spectacular.

Currently making my way through 8 books I need to read in two weeks before my British Empire through Literature and Film starts in early August. I’m reading, for the first time, Rudyard Kipling and loving him.

I still don’t have a camera, and I lost my iPhone at the Portugal airport. I have to pickup my camera at the post office, but it incurred a 55 pound importation fee which I will have refunded after I pay it and prove that I am a student here. I would have paid it by now, but I am currently really broke and am anxiously waiting for my stipend from Northeastern. Wow, it’s already 10 PM here. I can’t believe how time flies. Well, I really should get back to reading.

Some great quotes from Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller:

“I don’t say he’s a great man. Willie Loman never made a lot of money. His name was never in the paper. He’s not the finest character that ever lived. But he’s a human being, and a terrible thing is happening to him. So attention must be paid. He’s not to be allowed to fall in his grave like an old dog. Attention, attention must finally be paid to such a person.”

“A small man can be just as exhausted as a great man.”

“You can’t eat the orange and throw the peel away – a man is not a piece of fruit.”

“After all the highways, and the trains, and the appointments, and the years, you end up worth more dead than alive.”

I know I know, I haven’t even really talked about my stay here yet and already I have my after Cambridge plans. Nonetheless I wanted to have a game plan for the rest of my trip. Here it is:

One thing I love about Literature is in reading these great works; you learn that human sentiment although has changed in language has not really changed in feeling. I am currently studying Wordsworth v Byron and although I am not much of a Wordsworth fan, I really appreciate Lord Byron. “Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage” is a somewhat autobiographical poem by Byron; my Professor described it as a sort of travel log of his many adventures. Canto the Third had been written after he had fled England after disgracing his marriage and had been ostracized for his “unruly” and “improper” conduct (I put the quotes, but he did do wrong). Canto the Third is the accounts of his travels (through the tale of Childe Harold of course) during a desolate and lonely time for him in his life; he cannot love the woman he loves, a form of torture still today.

One passage in particular rang true to me, and I thought I’d share it:

“Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends;

Where roll’d the ocean, thereon was his home;

Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, extends,

He had the passion and the power to roam;

The desert, forest, cavern, breaker’s foam,

Were unto him companionship”

- Canto III. Stanza XIII.

Often times when traveling, you learn to take refuge in the nature around you.  Sometimes even, you don’t have the indulgence of someone else to be with you to share the experience and you are seeing these wonders alone. I say this, and then I think… well, that’s not entirely true. For me, as much as I did find peace in nature and appreciating the natural beauties of say southern Portugal; I also did have something there to share it with me. I wrote in my journal one day while strolling along the coast after a day of sunshine at the pool:

My camera is my companion sharing with me these experiences. Its pictures will remind me of what I saw like an old friend does at a much overdue lunch. It will remind me of the times gone by; it will be my keener and more vivid eye as my own memories begin to fade.

This is true though, not just for traveling purposes but also in remembering times that have long since passed. I am not quiet like Lord Byron at all in anyway, but I can relate to him in some ways: the seeking refuge in traveling – hoping to escape the memories of love and other times of happiness – and then falling victim of painful nostalgia. It seems, that no matter how far you go, these memories can still grab a hold of you and feel as sharp as it would anywhere in the world. I like when Byron says, “What deep wounds ever closed without a scar?” and those scars are painful to remember. Yet we carry on, through the adventures… then pretty soon your other pictures are buried with newer pictures, of new sights sought and lands conquered. I have come to realize that scars tend to fade with a lot of sunshine, a tan can cover a lot of things up; nonetheless, covering it up does not mean that they do not exist. Now I am getting lost in metaphorical messages, enough.

I have finished four full days here at Cambridge. I have been more than comfortable in my accommodation, and I have quiet literally received a royal treatment here; it is truly an academic oasis and it is inspiring. I do not have a camera right now (long story), but it was supposed to have arrived on Monday. Hopefully, when I do receive it, I will be able to share some photos and in turn document some memories.