London

The other night I had a lovely conversation with a Persian gentleman (at Starbucks...very American of me, I know) about the Persian population in Los Angeles and found out that his sister lives in Claremont, where my dad grew up. Last Sunday I ate lunch next to a French couple - I read my book and tried not to listen in on their conversation (just to see how much I could actually understand). I've been stopped on several occassions by people needing directions to the nearest Tube station; and like a native, I always know where to send them. I even walked to the Tube with one of these enquirers, a Chinese gentleman who lives in the U.S. and was here visiting his daughter who is studying in London. Tonight I exchanged looks of silent understanding with a couple of Spanish girls as we listened to some rowdy Brits - no doubt football or rugby fans - singing inappropriate (yet hilarious) songs about underpants on the Tube. One late afternoon I was eating at a French restaurant called Le Pain Quotidien and the British couple next to me kept leaning over and asking what I had ordered; they promptly ordered the same thing and we talked about our plans for the evening - theirs: seeing an American comedian at the SouthBank Centre, and mine: seeing Love's Labour's Lost at the Globe. Last weekend I went walking in my neighborhood, discovering new streets and little paths, through the alleys of cobblestone with little doorways here and there and potted plants in the windows. I love this city for all of these little things and for so much more that I can't possible write it all down. I hope this begins to paint the picture of my life here - I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.

Thanksgiving

This year I celebrated Thanksgiving not once, but twice - in a country which doesn't even recognize this holiday. On Tuesday morning, two days before the actual Thanksgiving, my flat of fifteen LMU students began preparing for our feast. We coordinated tag-team turkey-cooking between going to class and running to the market. Some of my flatmates bought candles and flowers to decorate our common room table. There was pie-baking, potato-mashing, and even the sounds of bickering that would make anyone feel at home on Thanksgiving. We had to time everything just right - with two ovens for seven cooks and the enigmatic turkey that none of us were sure would ever cook. We guessed on our start time: appetizers and drinks at 7:30...we nibbled on(a.k.a. devoured...you know how you can never wait to eat on Thanksgiving?)artichoke dip and humus, olives and peanuts, ham and French baguette. And then by some miracle the turkey was finished. We brought out the stuffing, the mashed potatoes swirled with sweet potatoes, the spinach salad with candied walnuts and bleu cheese vinaigrette, the sweet potatoes with marshmallows, the pork pies, the green beans...and I carved our masterpiece turkey. Music from 'Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown' accompanied our fabulous meal and we finished the evening with mulled wine and apple and pumpkin pies.

Thursday brought another memorable evening...this time in a less familiar setting. Our professor from LMU and his wife hosted our Thanksgiving meal at a Russian restaurant in a small Kensington neighborhood. We were greeted at the door by two dark-haired, thick-accented, lovely Russian women who promptly informed us that we could not proceed to the table without our shots of Vodka. We simply couldn't protest! We had Chicken Kiev and I chatted with Grace, the ten-year-old daughter of the Labour MP, Graham Allen. And as if that weren't enough, a jolly Russian man serenaded our party with tunes on his accordion. We ended this second Thanksgiving with a game of Scrabble and a round of drinks at our local pub.

I am filled with gratitude as I look back on this time of laughter, friendship, and celebration. I am also reminded of how much I have to be thankful for each and every day - most especially for the gift that each of you have been in my life.
Happy Thanksgiving...

With gratitude for the lives that have shaped you,
the hands that have held you,
the voices that have inspired you,
the eyes that have beheld you,
and the ears that have listened to your voice.

Elgin Marbles

This afternoon my British Life and Cultures class took a trip to the British Museum, which features artifacts acquired during the time of the British Empire. The collections come from Egypt, Asia, Ancient Greece and Rome, the Middle East, North America, and parts of Europe. Our focus today was on a set of sculptures from the Parthenon in Athens - the Parthenon Marbles. They are also known as the Elgin Marbles after Thomas Bruce, the seventh earl of Elgin and the British ambassador to Constantinople, who obtained permission from an Ottoman sultan to remove sculptures from the outside of the Parthenon. The location of these marbles is still controversial today, as the Greek government continues to ask the British Museum and the British government to return the marbles to Athens. Both sides of the debate have validity, but today I was glad they are in London. The sculptures and three-dimensional tile decorations are stunning - majestic symbols of Ancient Greece. I look forward to going back and spending more time with the Marbles, and then going to see China's terracota army...Ancient China and Greece all in one sitting. It's hard to comprehend.
BBC Article on the Elgin Marble controversy: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/6578661.stm)

Autumn

If I ever had a doubt about which season is my favorite, it remains no longer. One aspect of this journey that I will remember vividly for years to come is the brilliance of this autumn season here in England. I have spent many hours running, strolling, taking pictures, reading, and relaxing in Kensington Gardens. The smell of the leaves, the angle of the sun, the dogs off their leashes, the school children in the fields - it's impossible for me to tire of it. And there are my Sundays in Wimbledon. Walking through the neighborhoods filled with old brick homes whose cozy front reading rooms make me wish I could step inside, watching parents push prams through the park, looking out from the top of the hill onto the beautiful countryside below. It is enchanting. And it makes me wish so many people were here to share it with me. There's nothing like the richness of a season to remind me of all the people who would enjoy this beauty as much as I do. Know that you are all in my thoughts as I walk among the leaves...

Paris

I spent six days of my mid-semester break in Paris: soaking up the autumn glow of the city, walking along the Seine, and relaxing in as many cafés as possible. We were just in time for the yearly grève, the Métro strike - and this turned out to be just what we needed. It forced us to walk everywhere...and we did. Kayla and I spent a morning exploring Montmarte and the basilica atop the hill, Sacré Coeur. Then we strolled all the way down to la Place de la Concorde and le Tour Eiffel. Teresa joined me for the weekend and we spent Saturday night with thousands of people singing "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot" and yelling "Jonny!" every time England's fly-half, Jonny Wilkinson appeared on the giant screen behind the Eiffel Tower. (We were watching the Rugby World Cup Final if you haven't caught on). I spent a couple of afternoons in the Louvre and watched the sun go down while meandering through the Jardins de Tuilleries. I can now say with certainty that Parisiens do walk down the street with their baguettes in hand. And although I didn't bring a Parisien boy back with me, I was most certainly in love. With falling leaves, crisp air, and magnificient vistas in every direction, it would be hard not to be. Ô Paris, que je t'aime!

1a Waterlow Road

The second half of my study in London will consist of an internship three days per week...and I have been set up to intern with the Green Party whose small, north London office on Waterlow Road will be my workplace for the next two months. I am very much looking forward to this opportunity to witness and take part in the workings of grassroots politics. It won't by any stretch be glamorous, but it will be such a great chance to see the inner workings of a very specific, radical political organization - whose ideals I quite like and agree with. On any given day the office contains about four volunteers, one or two interns (including myself), and about four employees. So there will be a lot of work to do and just a small group of us to accomplish it! (And yes, we are very glad they did not call the snap election.)To be continued...

Wimbledon

My mom says everyone needs a spiritual home, and she is right. Amidst all of the adventures and traveling and enjoyment, it is a lonely time being away from my communities of faith at home and at LMU. I have been living in that "foreign land" that we discussed on Iona and it has been a time of great yearning - yearning for that safe haven that is Church. And this loneliness has only been growing with a few rough experiences at local churches here in London. What a challenge it must be for the great number of people who so often feel this loneliness within our parishes! In this way it has been a blessed reminder of the peace and security which I have found in my spiritual homes; it will also be a great challenge to keep this feeling in mind when I return to my communities which also have strangers and newcomers who are yearning for the same Church for which I now find myself longing. And though it has taken time, hope, and patience I have found the beginnings of a spiritual home in the town of Wimbledon at Sacred Heart Parish, about three quarters of an hour away from my flat in Kensington. And feeling at home already, I have jumped right in. I will be joining a wonderful group of musicians at the 5pm Sunday mass, to make music, share in community, and begin to find my place in my new home.

Istanbul

This past weekend I went to Istanbul as a part of my course on Islam and the West. It was a whirlwind trip with a lot to see and do. The most incredible sight was the Hagia Sophia which is a former Islamic mosque and Byzantine Christian church; it is also on the sight where a Grecian shrine to Apollo once stood. When Ataturk ruled in Turkey, he had the space opened as a public museum. The Christian mosaics which had been covered in plaster while the Hagia Sophia was a mosque were restored and now appear amidst the caligraphic representations of Qur'an verses. To see the architecture and art of two major, distinct, monotheistic religious traditions overlap and exist in a single space was truly fascinating. I like to hope this interaction could one day be created on purpose - without one tradition preceeding or overtaking another, but the two intertwining and reflecting their commonalities and their distinctions. Istanbul is known for being "caught" between the East and the West...this is one of my favorite parts of the city.

Cambridge

An afternoon of chauffered punting on the Cam followed by traditional pub fare in the very pub where Watson and Crick discovered the double helix...just a typical day in Cambridge, England. A friend and I stayed in this beautiful, historic town this past weekend. It is only an hour outside of London and yet one would have thought we had traveled to an entirely different world. We wandered through King's College Chapel in the afternoon and completed our evenings reading the Chronicles of Narnia and Harry Potter over vanilla tea and shortbread in the Chaucer Road flat belonging to another one of my dad's former work colleagues. The setting is truly picturesque, with cobblestone roads and perfectly green lawns strecthing across the 31 college campuses that make up the university. And with a good English book and a cozy chair to end each day, who would ever want to go back to the city?

The Globe

While I am in London I am taking a course on Shakespeare and Elizabethan Literature. I've had the opportunity to see The Merchant of Venice and Love's Labour's Lost performed at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. The experience is unforgettable because it has allowed me to vividly imagine how the work would have been performed in Shakespeare's day. With the "groundlings" or "penny stinkers" standing through the whole performance and the actors playing to the crowd, the comedies became much more real and tangible. Our professor reminded us that when we first encounter Shakespeare, typically as high school students, we are told that he is a genius and that we will love his work - which often inspires us to find him boring and hard to understand. And while the student sitting next to me at the play said just that - "We are meant to read Shakespeare. He's so boring." - she was just as delighted as I to watch the words come alive on stage. What a glorious way to experience the life of the Elizabethan era in the present day.

Ireland

After Iona I spent five days in and around Dublin, Ireland. I stayed with my dad's friend and former colleague, Mary. Mary, her husband Martin and their two children, Dermot and Maeve, took me everywhere - from the Wicklow Mountains and Glendalough to Newgrange (a Stone Age passage-tomb older than the pyramids) and the Hill of Tara. We also went to Glencree, a former British military barracks which is now a centre for peace and reconciliation. At Trinity College Dublin I was able to see the Book of Kells , which is an elaborately decorated book containing the four gospels. The interesting connection here is that the Book of Kells was possibly begun on Iona, by the celtic monks who lived in the Abbey that I stayed in just the week before. There is so much history to be discovered, and it is amazing to see how the bits and pieces all connect in some way or another.

Iona

My journey began with a beautiful week on the tiny Isle of Iona off the western coast of Scotland. I spent the week with people from Britain, Australia, the Czech Republic, Germany, the United States, Canada, and other parts of the world. We shared meals, music, journeys, stories, and the beautiful experience of this peaceful place. I came away knowing that we - from different faith traditions, different backgrounds, different cultures - can become deeply united by a simple meal, a common prayer, and the power of song. We went to a beach called the Bay at the Back of the Ocean and were asked to pick up a stone to represent something which we would like to take away with us. My stone is meant to represent the strong hope for peace among all people because as I have seen at Iona, when we pause long enough to meet the person behind the culture, the ideology, the group, we can truly begin to love one another.

Deep peace of the Running Wave to you.
Deep peace of the Flowing Air to you.
Deep peace of the Quiet Earth to you.
Deep peace of the Shining Stars to you.
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.

(A Celtic Peace Prayer)