Royal Visit

Dear Friend,

Hello!  How are you?!  I hope you are doing well and enjoying all the great things about fall....American football games, colorful leaves, the build up to Halloween.  Sadly, I will probably not be participating this year - they don't really do Halloween in England like in the States...plus, it's tricky to go as an American movie character if it didn't make a good box office showing over here...you might just get a lot of looks like you're insane (note: did my Dodgeball girl costume last year again and received many puzzled/horrified looks at my giant uni-brow, lipstick and mole).

I'm going to try to cut down on the astronomical length of my posts in an effort to whip them off faster (this should be interesting - straight from the blabbermouth's mouth), so here goes.  I posted last time about my job starting in January in Berlin.  Right now I got an amazing opportunity to work with a research study in Cambridge looking at the legal regimes of four developing countries and how the international climate change laws on forests and reducing emissions from them will fit, what challenges will be presented, how to ensure equitable benefit-sharing for local communities, what investors will need to include in their contracts, etc.  So I've been in Cambridge since the beginning of Sept. and will be here until the first week in Dec. (thus my complete failure to write again).

But in the spirit of trying to remember my time here in the UK, here's the story about the Queen's visit that I mentioned before.  So in early July I received a text from a friend asking if I wanted to go on an adventure the following morning.  My first question was of course how early this adventure was going to begin, and was confused at the response - 7:00 a.m.  What could possibly be starting that early?  No no, my friend, what I soon found out was that the actual starting time was 10 a.m. - we were just going to early....more like, the earliest people who have ever been early for anything...ever.  The Queen was coming up to Scotland to swear in her grandson Prince William to the Order of the Thistle (the highest knighthood honor you can get in Scotland) and the ceremony would take place at St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh.  In order to get "good spots" for viewing/picture taking...we showed up 3 hours early.  No people around, no press yet - we even beat the shift change for the night police.  It was hilarious.

So for the next seven hours, I stood pressed up against the barricades (at the very front, obviously) as gradually more and more people starting to crowd in and literally the red carpet was rolled out.  They put in special stairs over top of the stone stairs (red carpeted mind you), and marched in the royal archers and this royal band all in tartan with those massive furry black hats the guards in front of Buckingham Palace wear.  It was glorious - three Rolls Royce cars pulled up, one with the Queen and Prince Philip, another with William and Kate, and the last with Princess Anne (poor thing got the shoddiest one).  They joined the procession of Knights (except Kate - she just had to go in by herself and watch) all in flowing dark green velvet capes with plump green velvet hats adorned with enormous white feathers.  The Queen even had a page boy to carry her train in this ornate green jacket with gold trim, white knickers, high white stockings and the black buckle shoes....it was blissfully pretentious!

The ceremony didn't last that long, but afterward they all proceeded into the nearby building (to which the red carpet led) to have lunch.  We were debating whether to leave, since having stood there for five hours already, my heels felt like there was a sharp iron rod stabbing up into them and I couldn't really bend my knees anymore thanks to the heavy fog that had settled in and frozen my joints in place.  Silly to even question it, you might think - the only thing they were going to do was come out and get into their cars.  Leave immediately right?  Wrong.  We had chummed up to one of the policemen (Keith) who was on the other side of the barricades making sure no nutjob hopped over and made a dash for ol' Elizabeth, and he informed us that they had a specific block of time set aside in their schedules to come over to the crowd and shake hands after lunch.  Well believe you me, once we heard that, game over.  Two more hours - what's that after you've already stood for five.  But sure enough, they bailed.  Didn't shake hands with the lowly commoners.  Just hopped in the cars and took off.  Apparently, the royals were "tired" after such a "busy" day and retired to Holyrood Palace to warm themselves by the fire and have tea and scrumpets I'm sure.  Sooooo annooooooyed.  That made a little bit of their luster fade for me that day - but I was still starstruck to see the Queen :) I limped back home, promptly passed out and woke up with a little more feeling in my knees.

Thanks so much for reading, and take care of you!  Will write again soon.
Much love,
Beth x

Un-Dropped off the face of the Earth!

Dear friend,

How are you?!  It's been forever and a day since I last wrote.  I know, I'm sorry.  So shameful, but I have great updates!  So since we last spoke I have been searching constantly, emailing, and networking for a job post-program (Sept. on).  I almost fell out of my chair when I did a random Google search for "agricultural and environmental research fellowships" and up popped the Ecologic Institute.

Ecologic is a think tank on environment and sustainable development with its head office in Berlin, Germany. It also has offices in Brussels, Vienna, Washington DC, and San Mateo, CA.  They started a Transatlantic Fellowship program to have North American young professionals come over and spend a year in Berlin to encourage cross-cultural understanding and action on incorporating environmental and sustainable development considerations into broader policy.  The areas they work in are agricultural, water, marine, Arctic, and global health policy.  Finally, after having found this in January, applying and hearing back sometime in February, and interviewing through March and April, I was offered a fellowship position (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) starting January to work on agricultural policy coming down from the European Union and German government and analyze its environmental effects and draft recommendations to the corresponding entity.  In addition to collaborating on the projects in place, I am to research and produce my own project on an agricultural policy issue during the year.

I cannot even believe I received an offer to do this.  I interviewed via videoconference twice (which if you've never done that before it can suffer a lag-time so that your responses could actually end up interrupting your interviewer every time she tries to continue talking - not that I'm speaking from experience or anything), and the atmosphere of the office sounds very pleasant and laid-back yet productive.  I'll be mentored by a woman originally from Slovenia who is incredibly smart and nice who specialized in Eastern European small farmer and less favored area policies (I think).  I've never been to Berlin, which sounds weird to say about the city I'm moving to, but it sounds amazing from every person I talk to!!!!!!!!  It is considered "the New York of Europe" but is way cheaper, thank goodness.  I know almost no German, but Ecologic encourages fellows to take a language class as part of the experience and (best part) we only work four days a week so that on the fifth day we can "dive into the German culture".  ARE YOU KIDDING ME??!!!!!  You are offering me the chance to learn another language and basically enabling my tourism habit - um, where do I sign?  I joke, but seriously I cannot believe how blessed I am to have gotten this opportunity!  Thanks for listening and sorry I babbled about it for so long.  Just wanted to keep you updated on what I'll be doing all of 2013.

So in the meantime I am looking for something during Sept-Dec.  I have tentatively found a research thing in Cambridge, but it's not finalized so I will write about that in a couple of weeks when things are clearer.  Have a great story from the Queen being in town for Holyrood Week, so I will try to write that before the weekend is up!

Hope everything is great with you, and I'll write again soon (not lying this time)!
Cheers,
Beth

The Waffle Was My Downfall

Hi friend!  How are you?  I hope you are very well!  It's been a ridiculously long time since I've written, so I'm going to structure this a little differently - I'm going to post with dates signifying when the event I'm writing about took place until I can work up to the present.  Sorry for the confusion!

Dec. 3-8, 2011 - Brussels, Belgium

I was invited to give a guest lecture at the University of Louvain-la-Nueve on December 6 on US food labeling health claims.  The professor who invited me was our guest speaker for the Drake Journal of Agricultural Law banquet last year, so when he found out I would be over here this year, he invited me to hop over to Belgium and present to his consumer protection class.  I took the 4-hour train down from Edinburgh to London King’s Cross station where you catch the Eurostar train.  That was my first time in the Chunnel, which takes you under the water separating the British Isle from “the continent”.  It reminded me of the BART train, which goes under the San Francisco Bay, but free of a highly probable earthquake.  Thus, quite on par with all of my train journeys, I instantly passed out for the entire 30 min. ride underground (I swear they put sleeping gas in the vents).  Slightly underwhelming but amazing at the same time – literally I was in Britain and within an hour I had entered two different countries, France and Belgium.  Unbelievable how compact Europe is.

            I was also incredibly fortunate to have met an administrator from the European Commission through Drake who deals with US trade negotiations for wine, chicken, and beef.  He and his wife invited me to stay with them and their two little boys for a few days before the lecture, so I got to see the inner-workings of a German household!  Given my non-existent German and infantile French, unfortunately I could not communicate with the boys, ages 5 and 2.  They were so adorable though and it was great conversation with Felix and Vanessa (…in English...obvi).  They had a children’s theatre performance (in German) to attend the day after I arrived, so I spent the day at the Belgian history museum, the Bellevue, in which of course I took infinitely longer than expected because I can’t help but read almost every sign and visit every room.  But I did manage to take some pictures of the Royal Palace next door, ate a late lunch at the café on top of the Museum of Musical Instruments (had a killer view of the city), and stood dwarfed in the shadow of the Palais de Justice, a building so massive in its symbolic display of the power of the law that Hitler apparently requested to visit it after he’d conquered the city. 

            The next day I visited the European Commission and the European Parliament.  The Parliament is an amazing complex that is so huge yet supposedly very functional according to the assistant to the Scottish Member of the European Parliament.  Felix had worked with her on the Beef Hormone issue recently, so she was amazing to take time out of her day to have a coffee and give me a tour.  Her MEP is the head of the Agricultural Committee, so she is directly working on the reform of the Common Agricultural Policy right now – amazing conversation about the lobbying she is subjected to and their negotiations!  I collected my bags after that and headed to my new housing for the next three days – Paul, the professor, and his wife Valerie had graciously suggested that I stay with them and their two children, ages 6 and 3.  I have to admit that was a bit of a test in my map reading abilities since I had to use public transit (tram), then walk to find my road in French, and eventually arrive at a door I hoped was right.  Luckily, I had managed and Valerie was the one who greeted me with Charlotte and Antoine, as well as their renter Amanda who I was embarrassingly kicking out of her room to stay there.  Apparently that was a contingency in renting the room to her though that I would be coming in December…but still I felt terrible!  Valerie is amazing and was a fellow with an organization in DC last year, so she is in the process of writing her book.  Thus, the kids completely understand English and Charlotte could still speak it, albeit shyly.  Their house is fantastic – setup like a traditional Belgian house with the three-storied living area and bedrooms upstairs, but the man who had originally lived there converted the upstairs rooms into apartments for the metalworkers in his shop.  In what used to be the shop out back in the garden, they’ve built a kitchen and sleeping quarters area more away from the street connected to the front part by a glass hallway.  Fabulously generous, warm, welcoming, interesting people. 

            That night I attended a Christmas concert at the Notre-Dame du Sablon Church that I had been invited to by Felix and Vanessa’s friends, who I met at a small coffee, tea, and desserts gathering after the German theatre performance.  Granted it was all in German, a few pieces in French (I think?!), and two in English (I Wonder as I Wander and Hark the Herald), but it was so beautiful in the church, the choirs were amazing (they had bused in from a region in Germany and the other from Antwerp), and it was great to experience a European holiday festivity.  I was told if one wanted to, one could attend at least two Christmas celebratory events every night until after the New Year…..we’re talking Dec. 5^th at that point – brilliant!  Bonus – I tried my first mulled wine afterward – hot, spiced red wine *at the back of the church* that all concertgoers were welcome to!  Y.U.M.  Yes please, exported back to the States immediately.  Upon leaving the concert, I waited in the cold for the tram to come for about 45 min…..of course the workers had decided to go on strike on that line for the first time…well…as far as Valerie could remember.  You can take this for what you will, but I appreciated it when she said my continuing hopefulness that the tram would eventually come even after 45 min. was what they loved about the States – our positive attitudes.  I just didn’t want to walk a mile in my uncomfortable dress shoes but hey, didn’t want to disagree!

            The next day I gave my lecture…yada yada…but actually it was kind of amusing.  I was presenting to students at this Uni who were all native French speakers and only one girl in the class was from Quebec, so she had great English.  Everyone else spoke/understood basic English (I think, or more like I hope?! J) but I was shocked when Paul told me that I might be the first American some of them had ever met so they would be quite curious about me….maybe it’s irrational for me to be shocked by that, but nevertheless, I had not thought of that (I’m their first impression?!…oh boy, haha).  So I tried to give myself a pep talk that I would speak slowly (which I managed) and straightforward so as not to confuse anyone.  But immediately when I started….the self-deprecating jokes just came out, which can be a bit hard for a non-native speaker to interpret as to whether you’re serious or not.  I didn’t inundate them with too many, and I was relieved to hear scattered laughter so some people got them, but still – it’s so natural at this point it’s like verbal diarrhea.  Kind of like my verbal tick of “sorry” (thanks Mom J).  Regardless, the professor was very pleased with my presentation and I think the information was well tailored to the audience.  Phew.  I spent the remainder of the afternoon in Louvain-la-Nueve at the art museum before taking the train back into Brussels (*Belgium is split between French and Dutch speakers, so when tensions over instruction being given in French rose to the point in the 60s that those professors and students were protested against and kicked out of the now Dutch-speaking University of Louven, Louvain-la-Nueve was a town specially created for a separate French-speaking Uni).  These two incredibly nice women with minimal English were so excited to show me around the museum and insisted on cryptically explaining the evolution of color palette usage through the centuries (…..complicated subject matter in a shared language let alone with very few understandable phrases).  So I missed the train I meant to take, but it was a great experience.

            The next day I went out sightseeing, and since it was the first Wednesday of the month, the national museums were free in the afternoon!  Totally by chance – yay!  In the morning I walked instead of taking the tram six stops into town.  Amazing to uncover things you wouldn’t have normally seen, like the Botanical Gardens, the monument memorializing Belgian independence and the first National Congress in 1831, and St. Michael’s Cathedral sort of off the beaten path.  From there I visited the famous Grand Place—unbelievably ornate buildings surrounding a large plaza—and the Mannekin Pis—the fountain with a little boy peeing the water into your waiting container that has become sort of a symbol of the city.  However, the latter is quite deceiving if I may say so myself.  The pictures make it look like the fountain is big and freestanding in the middle of some plaza.  It actually only stands about two feet tall and is set into a wall alcove that’s fenced off with a good five feet in front of it.  Standing across the road and watching the hordes of tourists recently unloaded from their buses snapping pictures of it reinforced Paul and Valerie’s comment that it would be thoroughly underwhelming – my thoughts exactly.  So I hit up one of the hundreds of waffle shops surrounding this tourist trap and spent the next fifteen minutes trying to scrape some of the overflowing Nutella off of my already sweet waffle (note: no topping is necessary on real Belgian waffles sold on the street if you ever visit Brussels) and prevent my hair from flying into it.  Unsuccessful on both counts and was immediately covered in Nutella from head to toe.  After that disaster, clearly I needed a beer J so I headed to a little pub by the Christmas market and ate the most delicious traditional Belgian beef dish accompanied by a tasty Belgian lager.

            The afternoon at the museums was so interesting.  I walked into the huge raised foyer of the national art museum that houses both a 15^th-16^th C. onwards wing and a modern wing and there were about 30-50 people milling about.  About 20 of them had these paper blindfold mask things over their eyes, no shoes on, and were using blind walking sticks.  They were saying things in French and reaching out in front of them like they were feeling for something.  One girl got dangerously close to touching me and since I didn’t know what they were doing, who they were, and couldn’t understand them, I was not pleased at the prospect of being semi-fondled by this person faking blindness.  After dodging out of the way, I asked the desk worker what was going on.  They are a group of protesters (art students, patrons of the museums, Brussels residents) who gather every Wed. afternoon when they’re supposed to be able to visit the modern wing to protest because it’s been closed since last February.  They’re very upset about it because she said there’s really not been any good explanations as to why it’s still closed/not really any work has been done to it even though the reason given for closing it was renovations, so they come up with clever ways of showing they’re pissed each time.  This time they were seeking out the painters whose names they were saying (shows how much modern art I know right?) but couldn’t see because the modern wing is still closed, and the shoe thing was because I was there the day after Dec. 6^th – a separate holiday from Christmas (also with St. Nicholas but they consider him separate from Santa) where children leave their shoes by the door with a carrot in there for his donkey and they wake up to small presents.  They were asking St. Nicholas to bring them the gift of reopening the modern wing.  Clever huh?  After touring the old wing, I visited the museum dedicated to Belgium’s famous modern artist Rene Magritte.  It confirmed my hatred for modern abstract art.  I know this makes me sound uncultured and stupid, but I just can’t get the "wow, that really speaks to me" meaning of it or why it’s so spectacular.  It helped that the displays explained what was going on in the world and his personal life at certain times that influenced changes in his methodology, but I still can’t be bothered.  Much more of a 19^th century impressionist fan.

            So that was my time in Brussels!  I made it back to Edinburgh with a relatively uneventful trip.  Granted that was the day 100 mph winds decided to come up in Scotland, so delays and reroutes were threatened, but we forged ahead on-time and didn’t take a ridiculous amount of extra time.  The train was a’rockin though – slightly nervous we were going to be blown off the track!  Slight nervous that you may not have made it to the end of this monstrosity of a blog post as well….so with that, I will just say thanks for taking time to read this, hope you are doing great, and I’ll post again very soon about Christmas in the UK!  Take care!

Cheers,

Beth

What I’m thankful for

Hi friend!  How are you?  I hope you are well and starting to get in the holiday spirit!  I have to say I’m not feeling particularly festive with three essays staring me in the face.  They’re due in the next four weeks, so I need to get a move on….clearly.

Being away from home during the holiday season can really put a damper on your mood as well.  As most of you know, the United States’ Thanksgiving holiday just passed on the 24^th of Nov. (last Thursday of the month).  It’s a day where you gather with family (which in my case means 20+ people) and friends and give thanks for the great blessings in your life.  I have missed Thanksgivings before this, so it should get easier right?  Unfortunately, I am vividly aware of the fact that I will not be going home for Christmas either, so I think that exacerbates the loss of this holiday time.  In the spirit of the season, however, I thought it would be appropriate to make a list of 10 things I’m thankful for this year to make sure I don’t overlook the true meaning of this holiday despite being far from home.

1)  I’m thankful for my family.  My brother (finally – just kidding Neb) got the webcam hooked up for my parents and we were able to skype before Thanksgiving.  So that was the first time I’d seen their faces since I left, and that was definitely something to be thankful for.  It gave me a good laugh watching my dad shouting into the camera even though that was a) not where the microphone was located, and b) Neb was still setting up everything.  Not helpful, Dad.  On Thanksgiving I also got to skype with family in California, who I lived with for a year before law school.  I called my grandpa on Sunday after T-day too, which caused me to salivate over the meal description and wish I could visit him and my grandma.  Everyone who has a great support network like I’m fortunate to have, please remember to show them your appreciation.

2)  I’m thankful for my friends.  When you move around, it’s funny how your life sort of becomes a series of acts in which different friends become central characters.  While others may be supporting cast at different junctures in your life, that doesn’t mean they are less important or praiseworthy.  My childhood friends from back in Eagle Grove:  those people in your life who you might not see more than once a year, but you’ve got such an extensive history, background, acquaintances, understanding of each other, and similar set of developmental experiences that you feel instantly comfortable with each other and like you’ve never been apart.  They’ve seen me at my best, at my worst, they know how I tick, and vice versa – they make me strive to be a better person and for that I am so thankful.  My friends from Teach For America:  those people with whom you’ve gone through an extremely intense, emotional, stressful experience for a short period of time.  It’s a lifetime bond that you’ll always share.  A common understanding of a situation that is really hard to explain in totality to others.  I’m so thankful for their brains, dedication, continued passion to achieve even if not in the teaching field, and for all the things I continue to learn from them.  My California friends:  those people who teach you so much about yourself through their help and guidance.  I am so thankful to have experienced firsthand their unbelievable generosity and wisdom.  Their example makes me realize how I want to live my life in relation to the other six billion people in the world.  My law school friends:  those people with whom you share a season of personal growth, a particular body of knowledge, and a common challenge that having lived through it, you’ve jointly earned your stripes.  Even though we have all headed different directions, not just in terms of location but career paths within the legal field, I am so thankful for their unwavering support of my professional and personal development.  Their sense of humor kept me going during some incredibly bleak moments and still brings me joy an ocean away.

3)  I’m thankful for great food, good wine, and dessert.

4)  I’m thankful for my car back in the States.  Most of the time I don’t miss having a car; I feel better for how much I’m walking.  But there are times when you just want to get behind the wheel and direct your time.  Be the master of when you arrive rather than rely on timetables and be cramped next to someone you don’t know who may or may not adhere to the same level of body odor avoidance as you do.

5)  I’m thankful for Sony noise cancelling headphones.  They allow you to block out unnecessarily loud and annoying conversations going on next to you when you are trying to get work done, whether in a coffee shop, train, or even a library (gasp!).

6)  I’m thankful for rainproof jackets.  The genius of those who invented such material is unparalleled and does not go unappreciated by this constant forgetter of the umbrella.

7)  I’m thankful for beautiful sunshine.  It makes me so happy to see blue sky even when I know it’s freezing outside.  If only I could transfer that sunshine and myself onto a beach somewhere, I’d be even more thankful.

8)  I’m thankful for the constant generosity and welcoming spirit I’m shown over here by Europeans.  Inviting me for holidays, making sure I have places to stay, food to eat, and showing genuine concern for my future.  They don’t have to do any of that, and for all the times I’ve been reminded of the different ways we look at things or our cultural differences, the more I realize we are pretty much the same and in this life together.  Cross-cultural understandings are to be had with a little curiosity and open-mindedness.

9)  I’m thankful for adequate health care.  I’m sneezing and coughing up a storm over here, which should remind me every time that I am so privileged to be able to take medicine and have my ailments cured.  Some are not so fortunate.

10)  I’m thankful for all of you.  People who care enough about me to check in and make sure I’m still alive and kicking over here in Scotland.  I’m sure my drivel is sometimes not that interesting, but thank you for taking a few minutes out of your day to read my thoughts and show your support for me.

I wish you the very best during this holiday season, and I will write again soon.  Take care of you.

Cheers, Beth

When things go wrong...

Hi friend!  How are you?  Hope you are well and surviving the cold weather.  For those of you not in a cold weather climate...well, I have nothing more to say to you.  Today was the umpteenth (very scientific) time I was caught in the rain sans umbrella, rain pelting me in the face, and no hood/stocking hat.  Of course you know that means my frizz crown was out of control, inevitably I wear my glasses every time it rains so I was blindly walking through the building until I got to my class, and I was running late so I was stomping and sweating trying to get there on time.  I guess that explains how I see people walking around with no coat on.  Literally I'll see these little girls (okay, they're in university but still, pocket people compared to me) prancing about with no coat on a really windy, chilly day and wonder how they are surviving.  Turns out, when you walk everywhere you don't feel the cold as much as when you only sprint from your home to your frozen car and sit in that while you drive to work and then sprint into the warm building.  I'm consistently wrong in gauging the appropriate garment level.  One sweater too many and I'm overheating.  No scarf and I think my extremities will freeze off.  So complicated.

Okay, since we last spoke, I've had all number of weird things happen.  All on the same day.  Thursday the 17th started off like any other day.  I woke up groggy, shuffled to the kitchen in my sweat pants and stuffed my face with a huge bowl of cereal (come on, who really follows those recommended serving sizes on the box?  One cup, that will last me 10 min. and then I'll be searching for bagels).  We were told not to shower that day between 10-4 because some maintenance guys were coming to take our shower heads away and delime them...or something?  Well, as you all know, that was no problem for me as I am adverse to the hassle of showering anyway, so - nice excuse right?  Wrong.  From here the debacle stems.  So sure enough the guys come and remove said shower head.  The first guy tried to convey some type of information, but I couldn't understand a word coming out of his mouth.  His voice was completely hoarse, which I'm pretty sure was the result of some sort of illness (cancer), so I felt terrible giving him a clueless look after already asking him to repeat himself twice.  He realized I was never going to get it, so he gave me a shrug and moved along.  Uh, why can I not get this accent?!  Most of my friends here are also foreign, so I am actually not constantly exposed to Scots...that's not an excuse, but it's my excuse I guess.  Best I've got.

So, I proceed to sit in my pajamas reading for my Thursday evening class and wait for them to bring my shower head back.  It's now around 11:30 or noon, they said a couple of hours.  Okay, so I go to the kitchen to make some soup.  Of course the potato soup can explodes all over me.  I mean, that stuff shot out of there like a geyser and conveniently landed on my sweatshirt, face, and hair.  Uhhhh.  Okay, well, still no shower head, so I guess I'll just have to wipe myself off and carry on with the day until they get back.  Around 3:00, still no maintenance guys, so I go to the kitchen to have a snack and sulk.  Mind you, I have class at 4:00.  Not looking promising at this point.  So all of a sudden, my roommate Dani and I hear them return and hooray, my shower head is back.  I literally make eye contact with them as they're outside the kitchen door, so they know I'm there, I know they've come and replaced my shower head, all is good, all is right.  Wrong.  I leave the kitchen (they'd gone by this point) only to discover that my bedroom door is locked.  The maintenance guys had locked it behind them and my room key, my cell phone, and my non-potato stained, non-sweat material clothing and actual shoes versus slippers were locked in that room. AHHHH.  Okay, so thank goodness my roommate was home and let me call security from her room.  I get the guy on the phone, and his response was literally, "oh, well, we have a situation going on here and I can't send anybody. Sorry."  What?  Are you kidding me?  What is the point in having security if I can't call and have someone "respond" to my lack of security.  I tried to be polite as possible, but when he launched into a lecture on how I'm supposed to take my key with me even when I'm just going to the kitchen and lock my door EVERY TIME....I was done.  It was 20 min. until my class started by now and I had no time for his drivel.  He would have someone come at 4:00...right when my class was starting...he said when I cut him off and demanded to know when their "incident there" would be over.  While this mind-numbing conversation was going on, my roommate had done the genius move of running down to see whether the maintenance guys were still here, and sure enough - she found them!!  So 15 min. out I got into my room, changed out of the potato clothes, threw on a hat, called security to let them know not to come (I will never get service again), and ran to my class.  The first thing my professor smirks and says to me when he's checking who's there - "oh, I didn't recognize you with a hat."  I didn't think he'd find it humorous that my hair contained dried potato chunks, so I just gave him a "oh yeah, sorry" while everyone laughed.

So two hours later, I walk into the apartment and go straight to the kitchen to make dinner.  I find my two female roommates sitting there looking warily between the bottom of the fridge and the bottom of the oven.  New arrival - we had a mouse.  Sure enough, Ratatouille appeared next to the washing machine and my Singaporean roommate screamed and jumped on the couch.  So I helped move the ENORMOUS amounts of food being stored on our counters (vegetables, fruit, bread, eggs, etc.) to the various empty cupboards higher up so we could make our kitchen less attractive as a mouse paradise.  Predictably, that night I had also scheduled a tutorial session with one of the Chinese girls who lives next door.  She needed a native English speaker to go through her essay and point out grammatical errors, better phrasing, etc.  So periodically throughout the two hours I would have to bang on the table to scare the mouse back under the stove or washing machine.  Poor thing (her, not the mouse) - she jumped every time and was really freaked out by the mouse...sure enough the next day she sent me an email that the mouse had moved into her bedroom.

At the end of that eventful day, I got to bed at 12:30 and had to get up 4 hours later to catch my 5:30 train.  I traveled up to Aberdeen for a mini-conference on land use and climate change presented by the Royal Society of Edinburgh.  They were discussing their report on the implications of the Land Use Strategy under the Climate Change Act of 2009.  Very interesting, met a lot of cool people doing cool things - makes me wish I had studied science before I went to law school.  For any of you considering a career change into the climate change field, it would behoove you to know about biology.  Anyway, quite on par with how dumb I am sometimes with traveling, I had a vague idea that the James Hutton Institute where it was being held was out to the west of town.  The website said to take the #16 bus.  Okay, but infuriatingly, my research stopped there, which I didn't realize I needed to be concerned about until I arrived at the train station.  I didn't know where the #16 stopped, how long it took, where I was supposed to get off....so of course I did my classic ask people for help.  I chose more carefully this time (reference the service van guy disaster from Sept.), and a very nice professional directed me to the main street where I would likely find the bus stop.  The street was lined with bus stops, so after searching the map, I found the cross streets and the #16.  Once I was on the bus and we'd gone a fair distance, I started to get nervous that I was going to miss the stop.  So once I saw a street sign with the name of the stop, a church with the name of the stop, I knew I had to ask the bus driver.  There were only three people on the bus at this point, and the girl in polka dot pajama pants got off at the next stop.  Before we started off again, I inquired whether the driver knew where to get off for the James Hutton Institute.  He literally put the bus in idle and got out from behind the wheel to confer with the lone old guy on the bus.  *So nice!  Scottish people on the whole are so amazingly nice and generous - one time I asked directions when I got off the train in a small town and the husband and wife even offered to give me a ride!*  Turns out the situation was being complicated by the fact that the institute had changed names and neither of them knew it as JH but rather as the Macauley land institute.  Once we got that cleared up the bus driver said, "oh, I bet that lass with the spotted pants was headed there."  (ha! lass. spotted pants. so cute!) I kind of laughed and said, "oh, right, very student of her - wearing her pajamas to class."  He gave me a strange look -  "uh no, it's actually a thing.  Didn't you notice weird outfits around town?"  Apparently I have even less fashion sense than we all thought.  It didn't even occur to me that the mismatched, wild colors and patterns outfits were any different from the uber-fashionable outfits I'm surrounded by and not attempting to mirror on a daily basis.  It was a nationwide charity awareness thing, so that would explain the tartan leggings, knit sweater circa 1983, and tie-dyed scarf affixed to the purse of this girl at the land use conference who I overheard telling her boyfriend that she just had to stay until after lunch and then she could leave....... Which is probably best since I can't really think that anybody was going to take her seriously in that outfit.  I'm all for charity, but really?  Being young and female already stacks the odds against you that none of the old white hairs will discourse with you about land use until you show them you know what you're talking about.  I don't think I made it clear either - she didn't have a skirt over the leggings.  Quite possibly the least professional thing you could wear to a suit and tie conference.

So no limbs lost or catastrophic events.  Just wildly unfortunate mishaps that seem to compound on each other making me panicked, lost, sweating, or all of the above.  Thanks for reading!  I have to get going on essays....note the procrastination involved in writing this email :)

Hope you are well, take care, and I'll write again soon!
Cheers,
Beth

Flames Galore

Hi friend!  How are you?  I hope you are well!  I'm sorry it's been awhile since I've written.  Starting to get into the busy part of the semester with final essays, etc., so that's why I've been MIA.

Okay, chronologically speaking - the end of October/beginning of November has been interesting.
One day my flatmate walked in and asked if I was going to see the Olympic Torch.  What?  The Olympic Torch is in Edinburgh?  The Olympic Games are over 6 months away?  Not only was it here, they had set up this gigantic Coca Cola bus in the middle of our student union square with a little tent where you could actually hold the torch and get your picture taken with it.  Upon rounding the corner to the square though, we literally almost bumped into the last person in what was an interminable line.  It was ridiculously long - thus, there was no chance I was going to wait.  But we did get some good pictures of the scene.  Unfortunately, none are of people taking pictures with the torch, which of course turned into - what's the silliest pose I can do with this huge gold thing?  If you want to see them, go to my Picasa album!  https://picasaweb.google.com/100003400901805538894/OlympicTorchHalloweenAndDiwali?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCIKslci5o9eGXg&feat=directlink

This unexpected visitor was soon followed by the Diwali celebration I got to attend with my flatmate.  It's the Hindi "festival of lights" so they had Indian food (I was in heaven until the sheer quantity I had consumed started to sink in), traditional dancing (which I sucked at), and saris everywhere - they were so beautiful!  I even got my hand henna painted!!!

Halloween was next, which turns out is incredibly popular over here.  I thought maybe they didn't celebrate it, like it was only an American thing.  Nope, dead wrong.  They do wear significantly scarier costumes though, so that was different.  The default was putting black circles under their eyes and playing a plain-clothes zombie (lazy) or drawing red lines from the corners of their mouths as vampires.  Mine was always going to be a hit or miss if people had not seen the movie Dodgeball, which upon studying its box office results here in the UK I realized might be very few people as opposed to the US, but I got a few positive responses aside from the Americans I met up with.  Mostly I was just gawked at as some crazy person with bushman eyebrows and ugly circus red lipstick by people on the bus.  Eh, you win some, you lose some.

The real Halloween celebration in Edinburgh is actually ON the 31st of October though, which this year happened to be on a Monday night.  The pagan tradition of celebrating harvest leads into this end of summer celebration, called Samhuinn, where they have a parade and this group called Beltane Fire Society literally has flame throwers, drum corps, and street theatre.  Of course it was a torrential downpour right at 9:00 when the parade started, so my flatmates and I didn't go out until 10:00.  We caught the end of the drumming and saw some terrifyingly scary red-painted demonic people, the other drum performers, who had finished and were headed to the bar.  I couldn't believe how many people were out that Monday night though and appeared to be in it for the long haul - it was raining and I'd already exhausted my costume on Saturday, so it never occurred to me people would actually go out on Monday as well.  Clearly I was mistaken.  Very cool annual tradition to catch though.

Last Saturday was Bonfire Night.  This annual celebration on Nov. 5th, where there are fireworks set off all around the UK, is in honor of Guy Fawkes.  He was part of a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament in 1605 due to continuing intolerance for Catholicism under the British monarch.  When you are plotting with 12 other people, however, make sure nobody rats you out by sending a letter directly to whom you are trying to blow up.  Apparently, someone in the plot folded like a lawn chair and notified a member of the House of Lords that Nov. 5th was the day.  Not only did Guy never get a chance to ignite the 36 barrels of gunpowder stored in the basement of Westminster, but the guards stormed in while he was down there, captured, tortured, and killed him for treason.  Talk about a plan gone wrong.  So on that Nov. 5th night in 1605, people around Britain lit bonfires to celebrate the safety of the King and the tradition continues today.  We got to see the huge amount of fireworks set off in the soccer stadium from Holyrood Park, which sits at the base of the extinct volcano Arthur's Seat where people hike up with torches or flashlights and set off fireworks as well.  That was cool to see from the ground - I'd be willing to put money on it that it was F.REE.ZING up there!

I hope you are doing great!  It's quite unseasonably warm for Scotland, apparently, so we'll see how cold it starts to get here in the next couple of weeks.

Thanks for reading and take care!
Cheers,
Beth

The Beautiful Cotswolds

5:20 p.m. UK time - Sat., October 22, 2011
Hi friend!  How are you?  I hope you are well!  I feel unusually close to you at this moment because....I FIGURED OUT HOW TO LISTEN TO THE HAWKS LIVE ONLINE!!!!  So, it feels like I'm just down the road listening to the same radio program as opposed to thousands of miles away.  I don't really think I should admit how much time I spent searching for this radio station - it was more than worth it though...obviously.  Go Hawks!!

So two Fridays ago I traveled six hours by train down to the upper southwest part of England to visit a rural development/land use contact I know through a contact in the States.  Richard and Susan had kindly invited me to stay at their 17th Century home (so cool huh?!) for the weekend.  It is situated in Winchcombe, which is close to Cheltenham in the Cotswolds region. The night I arrived Richard had to give a land use presentation at a local meeting called Friends of Winchcombe.  It's a surprisingly large local group formed in the 1950s to protect the character of the town, so since its inception they have basically not been keen on new houses added to the town.  The local planning board was recently told they have to accept 100 new houses to accommodate growth, so his angle was to convince them they should be proactive about considering how those 100 new houses should be integrated into the town structure and design instead of complaining about an ugly new development that doesn't fit with the town.  The most interesting difference to see from an American perspective - he spoke about climate change and how they needed to keep an awareness of the strong UK carbon emissions reduction policies when creating their plan for the community.  Mind you he was speaking to a group of people who were all 65+ years old.  Love the lack of denial factor about scientific consensus on this side of the pond!  I also love the fact that after this meeting they had a wine social with "nibbles" (that is literally how snacks were labeled in the budgets provided on every other chair at the meeting = adorable).  I love the conversation that probably happened in planning for a community meeting - "what type of refreshments should we provide afterward?  Alcohol, duh."  Are you kidding me?!  Brilliant.

The following day we hiked along the Cotswolds Way in sort of a triangle.  We started at Stanway, which is the beginning of a huge estate, aptly named...the Stanway Estate :), that was owned by an abbey for 800 years and now the Tracy family has owned it for 500 years as the Earls of Wemyss (I have no clue how this royalty stuff works).  Its owners insist upon sustainable agricultural practices by their tenants, which is good since it's situated in an area of outstanding natural beauty.  So hiking along one of the bridle paths, we walked straight up through the woods until we emerged onto tilled wheat fields and pasture land stretching for miles.  It was so strange to literally open the gate of a farmer's field and walk through right next to his sheep.  But that's part of the beauty of UK property law - you cannot restrict people from walking on your rural lands.  In England you can designate a path they should stay on, as opposed to Scotland where they can walk anywhere as long as they don't cause any damage, but there is no concept of no trespassing just because it's your property.  You would have to apply for special permission from the local authority to be able to actively keep people off your land.  Interesting huh?  So we tromped through multiple fields until coming to the road that led us to Snowshill.  A National Trust manor is located there, meaning the owner deeded what is usually a historical property to a national organization that maintains it for tourism through the support of four million members throughout the UK (myself included).  This property included a manor and gardens totaling about 16 acres I think, but the former owner, Charles Wade, never actually lived in the manor.  He lived in this tiny little cottage off to the side.  He literally purchased the manor around 1920 for the sole purpose of storing thousands of antiques since he was a self-proclaimed collector.  His family was very wealthy, so what that translates into:  he got to travel all over the world and buy whatever he wanted that struck his fancy.  So the house contained 15+ Chinese cabinets with all sorts of knickknacks inside, an entire room dedicated to ancient Samurai suits of armor, a musical instrument room, coats of arms all over the walls, an assortment of old wooden bicycles in the attic, weaving looms, an antique laundry contraption, decorated chests, clocks....you get the point.  Amazing amounts of random shhhtuff.  Too much time and money on his hands is sort of the thought running through my head the whole time, but it was really interesting to see.

So that was my weekend in the amazingly beautiful Cotswolds.  I was so fortunate to get to experience that scenery, have good conversations, sleep on a mattress that felt like a cloud, and eat the most amazing food (Susan is the most UNBELIEVABLE cook - homemade curries, Thai soup, Japanese miso soup...ooh, my stomach was in heaven).  If you ever have the opportunity to travel over to the UK and are wondering whether to carve time into your schedule to visit the Cotswold region - DO IT!!!  Enchanting is the only way to describe that place.  Absolutely enchanting landscape.  See it here:  https://picasaweb.google.com/100003400901805538894/TheCotswolds?authuser=0&authkey=Gv1sRgCPvhzrGsvdWRrwE&feat=directlink
Let me preface your viewing by a little disclaimer though....I am a land use and farming nerd, so I may have gotten a little carried away with landscape pictures. oops :)  But, fortunately for you, I have included a lot of descriptive captions so maybe it won't just look like the same bit of beautiful hillside and trees and stone houses over and over again.

6:15 p.m. UK time - Sun., October 23, 2011
This morning I woke up at 7:15 a.m. to go to a pub with an outside courtyard fully stocked with picnic tables and a big screen to watch the All Blacks New Zealand rugby team win the Rugby World Cup 2011!!!!  They beat the French (yes!!!) 8-7, and while I was engrossed in the game most of the time, the people watching was beyond priceless.  The guys with their faces painted black and white shouting incomprehensible noises along with the New Zealand haka before the match, the women who looked like they had taken four hours curling their hair to come watch a rugby match, the older French gentleman who was sporting a navy blue plush velvet coat over his bright daffodil colored hoodie sweatshirt, the French girl who I'm sure had dyed her hair a cranberry color in support of her team (at least I hope that was the case - incredibly unfortunate if that is her normal style choice).  What might surprise you though is the relative civility with which all these fans mingled.  I thought rugby fans would be the rowdiest (let's pause and appreciate I worked for the Raiders though....stiff competition for that title), but apparently soccer fans are way worse.  Someone explained it to me that there is so much violence on the rugby pitch itself that nobody finds it necessary to punch each other out in the stands.  Fair enough - but my jaw literally dropped when all of a sudden during halftime I looked over and there was the French girl with the tricolor wig and another with a French flag in the form of a cape taking a picture on the laps of the All Black face-painted guys.  Perhaps gender had something to do with it, but still, shockingly civil.

I hope you have a great week and Halloween festivities!  They actually celebrate it here (hoorah!!! you know how much I love Halloween), so I'm most likely going with a repeater - Dodgeball.  Hope all is well, take care, and I'll write again soon!

Cheers,
B