Knackered in Nottingham

 
 
 
 

The photos never seemt to publish in the order I choose them, so select the appropriate caption for the photos above:

1. Stephanie learns how to play snooker (like pool but not) with new friends Alex, Kristen, Tim, Laura and Ruth after a glorious dinner party that she hosted. No, Stephanie, you do not hit the red ball. You hit the white ball to knock in a red ball, and then you knock in a colored ball. And there are points depending on the colors of the ball. Oh, and if you fault, the other team gets four points, only more if it's a different colored ball, and so on. But my team won! (thanks mostly to Alex and Kristen, though I did knock in one red ball and one pink ball, I must add).

2.Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem is one of the several pubs claiming to be the "oldest inn in Britain" but this one, from 1189, truly is old. It gets its name from being a wayside stop where Crusaders would rest on their way to Jerusalem back in medieval times. It's built into the bottom of Castle Rock, a natural sandstone hill in the center of Nottingham upon which William the Conqueror built Nottingham Castle in 1068. Which brings us to ...

3. Nottingham Castle. Except, as any true Nottinghamite will tell you within about five minutes, the once grand castle that every royal from William the Conqueror to Henry VII stayed in and was a major military force is now gone. Despite the fact that William (forget which one, but the one who started the English Civil War in the 17th century) raised his standard there and began the war at that spot, the castle fell into disrepair and was torn down. Then, also in the 1600s, the appropriately named Duke of Newcastle bought the property and built himself a nice little palace. The interior of the palace fell into ruins but the shell is still there. Nottingham folk bemoan the loss of their true castle, but part of the original castle gatehouse (dating from the 1300s) and the bridge that led over the moat is still there, as you can see in this photo. The moat is long gone but you can see where the arches were that people crossed under.

4. And, of course, what is Nottingham and Sherwood Forest without a mention of one Robin Hood? Yes, he really lived around here (in whatever form he did live, but that's another story) and the Robin Hood statue on Castle Rock is proof of that. As you can see, I biked up to the castle (about 20 minutes from home) and posed for a shot with my old friend Robin. Apparently you can go into what remains of Sherwood Forest and sit at the old oak that Robin reportedly sat under (it's probably just a stump now) but the closest I've been is the neighborhood of Sherwood, on the other side of Nottingham, where I attended a pub quiz. Well, it was supposed to be a pub quiz but not many people turned up, so there was no taking sides and answering questions in order to win the kitty. So, instead, I had my own pub quiz with the friends I came with, playing 20 Questions. We had fun.

Today I am quite knackered (tired). It all began with my morning bike ride along the canal. I'm getting used to this ride and it's normally a pleasant 20 minutes, but there was quite a wind and I was fighting it the whole way. So when I arrived at the Arches, I sunk into a sofa and didn't move for about 20 minutes. Luckily my friend Robin (Staple, not Hood, though he wouldn't mind being mistaken for Robin Hood, his wife tells me) brought me a cup of tea.

I was assigned to the hospitality team at the Arches today, making tea, coffee (instant coffee, which is what they mostly drink here), and toast with butter and jam for the dozens of folks waiting for help. The Arches is, once again, a center where we provide clothes, furniture, household items, food and social services to the poor and downtrodden. So I started out on hospitality but there were so many clients they needed more project workers, which is a job I've become comfortable with. Project workers do interviews with the clients, finding out what they need and reading their files, then take them to the clothing arch, the furniture arch and other areas of the center. It can be tricky as we have limited resources and have some rules about what people can have.

For example, I worked today with a young woman who is a refugee from Eritrea, and she was very unhappy that she's come three times and there haven't been any single beds. She really wants a double bed but our policy is that only couples get doubles, as we don't receive many. But when I offered to pray with her she was actually very excited and even asked for an English Bible. I also helped a domestic violence survivor who simply wanted a chair, and got it. Another single mom came with her 3-year-old son and wanted furniture. We didn't have much, but her son saw a stuffed dalmatian toy on the shelf and, when I took it off the shelf and put it in his arms, I was nearly blinded by his overwhelming smile. Then I worked with another single mom who has three little kids and needed clothes and toys. Her 3-year-old boy was so excited when we got to the toy area. He found some plastic animals and happily made himself a little jungle, moving the animals around from table to chair to floor, lining them up and talking to them. We were able to give this family quite a few toys and some useful winter clothing items, and, of course, I packed up the plastic elephant, cheetah, dinosaurs and palm trees for the little boy. Since they'd already received so many toys I wondered for a minute if I should also give the animals, but we had plenty of toys today and I decided that anybody who takes so much joy in a few pieces of plastic absolutely needs to take them home. It's just amazing how little it takes to bless someone sometimes. And, I reminded myself, wrapping the animals, books, used games, coloring book, video and wooden puzzle in secondhand bags, when a mom is struggling to make ends meet it's the little things like toys that kids often miss out on.

After the Arches closed, my fellow disciples Robin, Alex and I cleaned the place (our normal job) then I was on my bike to church, where I wolfed down a sandwich and apple before meeting up with Jida (Robin's wife--a delightful young woman from Nazareth, Israel...she, Austrian-British Robin and I are all internationals, which is unusual for the locally designed Discipleship Year program, but they say they're happy to have us). Jida and I were meeting John, one of the pastors who heads up the poor ministries at Trent Vineyard. He was taking 10 of us on a visit to a local prison. We got to the prison, got through security (no mobile phones allowed) and were met by the head chaplain, who gave us some tours, introduced us to some prisoners and explained a lot about the need for volunteers within the prison. The prison itself was a stark, cold, place, although they're building new facilities to double the size. The number of prisoners in England and Wales is now at 81,000, the highest it's been in history. There's a big need for compassionate people to interact with the prisoners in secure, safe ways. I didn't feel at all threatened while there, since we were always escorted by one of the chaplains. It is true, however, that being a young woman visitor means you get started at a bit. But the few prisoners we did interact with (those who are involved in the chaplaincy programs) were very respectful. I'm not sure if I, personally, will get involved with any prison programs (other young women do, and they are treated just fine) but it was a very important reminder of our brothers and sisters who are locked up. The chaplain made a very interesting point by reminding us that Jesus died as a prisoner and that he told the prisoner on the cross next to him that he'd see him in paradise. God's heart of love and compassionl is for those locked up behind tall, grey walls as much as it is for all of the rest of us.

When I got back to church I hopped on my bike again and met my friend Emma for a game of tennis at the Beeston Tennis Centre. It was the first time we'd played together and were pretty well matched, so it was a lot of fun. Emma also just moved to Nottingham (she's from Portsmouth, on the southern coast) because she married Ade, one of our Discipleship Year pastors. She's my age and a lovely, wise woman. We're hoping to play regularly and have tea afterwards. We're also serving together in the Vineyard Kids church (ages 9 to 11) once a month and want to brainstorm some creative worship ideas for the kids.

It's been a very cold day and I'd spent a lot of it outside, exercising in some form or another, so I was very tired, hungry and eager to get home. Peter and Sue (my host "parents") are gone just now and Julia (27) and Dave (23) are often out so I figured I'd be coming home to a cold, empty house. We were all in together for a few hours last night and had dinner and Jules and I convinced Dave to go out and get us a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia, which was all very fun, but they are, of course, busy young adults so I figured they'd be gone. "I need hot food," I decided, cycling up the long gravel driveway to the ivy-covered house. "Maybe I'll make something with chicken and rice."

So imagine my delight to walk in and find Julia and David at home and a big portion of a chicken-and-rice casserole that David had made waiting for me. I poured a glass of the wine Julia shared with us, got my casserole and bread and salad, and joined the others in the lounge where we propped our feet up and watched Friends reruns (the Brits LOVE Friends). Julia then shared some fine chocolate with us (she's a teacher and has a big stash left over from last summer's end-of-the-year presents) and we watched a British reality show called Hotel Inspector. Finally, finally, finally, I had to do a telephone interview for a newspaper article at 10 p.m. (scheduling them back in Chicago can be tricky with the 6-hour-time difference). I had a nice chat with a fertility doc about a new blood test for endometriosis, which reminded me briefly of my old life, and then I got on Blogger. I haven't got off yet, but now I need to because, as previously mentioned, I am knackered. And tomorrow is another fine day.

It's fun to have friends!

Note: I wrote this post several weeks ago but never posted it. So here you go.
My new friends did came over on Saturday night, Sept 22. Kristen, Ruth, Alex and Tim all came for dinner, which was relaxed and fun and then Laura joined us and we all played a raucous game of snooker. What, you ask, is snooker? That's what I asked! It's kind of like pool, only harder. Seeing as how my sum total of pool games played is about three, I was at a distinct disadvantage at snooker. There I was, trying to set up a shot on the Granges' snooker table (imagine a pool table only a smaller size, with different balls, different rules and different scoring system)and I've got my friends all giving me helpful instructions: "Lean your cue on your hand more," "Move your back hand further up," "Put your head down so you can see the line of the ball," "Stand on the balls of your feet," "Stick your bum in the air," etc... The difficulty, of course, is that two of the instructions came from people on my team and three of them came from enemies on the rival team who were all trying to set me wrong! I did fault a few times (whenever the white ball doesn't hit another ball the opposite team gets four points and sometimes even more) but we won the game, in the end, thanks to the magic snooker stylings of Kristen and Tim. And, I will admit, I got a few balls in myself...one red one and the pink one. Yippee! After snooker we watched some football (soccer) on TV and I showed them some Brian Regan snippets, which they enjoyed. Everyone went home around midnight, so I'd call my first party in England a success.

Yesterday was my first time teaching the Trent Vineyard Kids 9- to 11-year-olds. The VKids ministry amazes me. They actually have more than enough volunteers. About 250!!! I've never before been in a church where there were so many folks ready and willling and eager to work in children's ministry. Many things about Trent are, frankly, astounding. God is at work in this place and I am eager to learn more. Anyway, an honest-to-goodness primary school principal coordinates InteracTiV, the 9-11 room, with a team of about 4 teachers. Imagine a smallish room with 5 adults and 35 hyper kids. For snacks we actually give them squash (sugary juice) and Cadbury's (chocolate) during church, which I thought would be a disaster but seemed to work well. The kids do activities and worship and then break into small groups for Bible study and prayer. I had a blast and the kids seemed rather in awe of my exotic American accent. They'll get over it soon, I'm sure. I'll be in with them twice a month so will hopefully get to know some of them.

Then more Discipleship Year friends invited me out for "Sunday roast," a real English tradition. We all walked back to a nearby house (very few people here have cars) and I first enjoyed the luxury of a hot shower, since our boiler at home was broken for a few days. Then eight of us walked through The Park, a swanky part of Nottingham that was once a private estate, and into the city centre. We all ordered various roast dinners at the Canal House, a pub that's built over the canal and actually has boats docked on the canal inside the building! By the way, a pub here is a bar, but it's also a coffee shop and a restaurant. Pubs are very family friendly places, during the day at least. After a hilarious meal, about six of us decided to walk to another pub for pudding (dessert). We found a place called the Ropewalk that has lots of squashy couches and board games. However, a rugby game was on (most Americans probably do not realize we're in the midst of the Rugby World Cup and that England is now in the semifinals) and since I wasn't too interested I curled up on a couch and took a Sunday nap. When I woke up we all had some drinks and chatted some more, and then Ruth and I suddenly realized with horror that we had to be back at church in an hour. So we walked as fast as humanly possible back to her house where we made sandwiches and wolfed them down while practically running to church.

I got there at 6:35, five minutes late but nobody noticed. Phew! They are strict about our serving times. I then did set-up with a team, mostly which consists of placing chairs in a very precise manner and at just the right time to facilitate community. After the service we cleaned up and I was home around 11. It was such a fun day!

Nottingham Life

 
 
 

I know everyone has eagerly been anticipating the latest blog post and I've heard comments like, "I know you're busy doing exciting things, but I want to see the photos!" Well, the truth is that I haven't done anything especially exciting lately. I've just been settling into my new home and am getting used to daily life. But I thought I'd post a few photos and talk a little bit more here about the Discipleship Year.

The above photos are from a couple of fun times with my new friends in the program. In one of them, Ruth polishes the bannister/wall at the top of the stairs in Trent Vineyard. In another, I'm cleaning the lift (elevator). And in the third, Chris and I are playing Dance, Dance Revolution when a group of us went out bowling last Saturday night. For moe photos from this set (warning: it's all either pix of us bowling or cleaning, go here:

Discipleship Year Cleans and Bowls

What can I say? I am getting used to my new life. And it's a good life. I still feel a slight sense of unease about everything. Nothing is quite normal or familiar yet, but I'm getting there. I've learned to ride my bike for hours a day, running errands or merely cycling along the canal as I head to the Arches or to church. My days consist of doing writing work from home, hanging out with my new friends, working at the Arches (a comprehensive, Trent-run center offering food, furniture, clothing and services to the poor and political refugees), or being at church either learning and worshipping or serving and cleaning. The rumors were true: Discipleship Year does mean a lot of cleaning. I don't mind it at all, but I will admit that I've begun to think more than I ever have before about the people who do this kind of job for a living. Now that I'm getting settled, I find myself thinking. Often.

Yesterday, in between our two worship/teaching times as a team and before lunch, we did our usual weekly cleaning of the church. I was assigned to clean the lift and then picked up rubbish (trash) from the car park (parking lot). As I squatted along the flower beds picking Cadbury's wrappers out of the thorns, I felt a quiet peace. I was doing good work, humble work. And it also caused me to continue the ongoing inner dialogue I've had about about pride. Pride can be a good thing, as in self-esteem and pride in good things, but there's also that other pride--hubris, the putting of oneself above others. I didn't realize I did much of that, but as I contentedly picked up trash, I wondered if I'd be able to do this particular task for the rest of my life. Of course I won't be doing it the rest of my life (at least not as a job) but I realized the hard part for me of being employed as a rubbish-picker-upper would be telling people that's what I did. I would want to stress highly that picking up rubbish was a choice for me and that I was talented and skilled enough to do other things. That I had experience in the wide world of success. That I had accomplished big things.

And so, just a few weeks into it, this Year of service has begun to hit me in unexpected ways. They keep warning us about how we'll be brought to the brink of ourselves and be in tears often as we stress ourselves and confront our hidden selves. I don't really expect that in my own life, to be honest, since I am pretty darn self-aware and since I've already begun the process of letting God heal the "wound deep as the sea" (I found that in Lamentations this week and felt it was very appropriate) that is in my heart as a result of my broken engagement. I don't see how this Year is really going to be much different or more stressful for me emotionally than what I've already been through, and I believe that since I'm doing fairly easy, fun work from home for my paid job, I won't be "broken" in quite the same way as some of the other disciples. Yet I've already begun to feel Jesus work in me as he quietly peels away the various layers in my heart and shows me more about living like himself, and what I can do to be more like him. I think this whole journey is partly about me getting more of God's heart for the world, and I see that already beginning to happen.

That's enough ruminating for now. I've got four hungry friends coming for dinner tonight and I need to walk to the store and buy some food! Plus, I've been inside lounging around since yesterday evening and I'm starting to go stir crazy. I'm loving all of this free time to sleep, rest, think, write, draw and cook, though. This is the most free time I've had in years! However, I have definitely been getting out there and getting to know folks. On Wednesday night we had our small group at church (a different group of friends from the Discipleship Year) and afterwards several of us went out for a drink at the local pub. I tried Belgium cherry beer and it was yummy! Thursday night a small group friend, James, invited me out for a real British pub quiz at a pub across town. However, the scheduled pub quiz (where everyone is in teams and compete against each other) never happened, so we at our table had our own quiz instead by playing 20 Questions and had a great time. Tonight there's an "Irish party" where you're supposed to either come "dressed Irish" or bring Guinness. I might go over with my dinner guests, or maybe we'll just hang out here having fun together. Tomorrow the round begins again as I serve at both church services: First teaching Sunday School and then doing set-up at the evening service.

I am learning so much, incidentally, about how churches work and about the Vineyard. Yesterday the Trent Vineyard senior pastors John and Debby Wright (whom we don't have much contact with) did a very honest Q&A with the disciples and it was fascinating. I also read Carol Wimber's biography of John Wimber, founder of the Vineyard movement. It was a great read and very moving. I love how John's whole life was about serving Jesus in a totally normal, natural way. "I'm just a fat man on his way to heaven," he'd say. I guess that's my goal for this year...to be "just a short girl on her way to heaven!"

 
 
 
 

1. Tim Hulett (pronounced "Hue-lay" ... OK, not really, but that's what Tim wishes)buys Stephanie her very first drink in her very first English pub. It's a London Pride bitter, and she drinks it quickly and happily so as to impress the Brits and not "put America to shame."

2. Jen and Kristen show off the den (fort) that Team 1 built during the Great Discipleship Year Team Competition. Stephanie, Jen, Kristen, Robin and Alex built the fort within 15 minutes using assorted furniture and blankets from Rush House. Sadly, their fort came in last out of three. The judges (whom we suspect were partial) said that, while creative, the fort looked too much like a boudoir and not a place "where we'd like to spend a lot of time."

3. Stephanie and Kristen display the cozily decorated interior of their fort, which includes a light, book, camping tool and bottle of water.

4. Timmy the cat claims his favorite spot on Stephanie's bed (back in Beeston) and handily displaces Snickers the stuffed cat at the same time.

 
 
 
 

1. Check out the gorgeous view from my second-story bedroom window in Beeston (Nottingham).
2. A sweeping look at Rush House, the country house in Northamptonshire where the Discipleship Year team got to knwo one another during our weekend away.
3. A pastoral scene across the road from Rush House. Yes, the English countryside looks in real life just like it does in the movies.
4. The Discipleship Year 2007-2008 team poses for a dignified group shot in the meadows.

The London Eye

 
 
 
 

This tourist attraction costs 15 pounds ($30) but is totally worth it because it gives an amazing view of the city and reveals its scope and size and history. The London Eye was actually being built during my previous visit to London in November 1999, and I remember sitting along the Thames, journaling, watching the cranes and being sad I wouldn't get to see the final product. But when I asked Nikhita if she'd mind going up, she was very happy to oblige, especially as she hasn't done it for four years.

"This is such a brilliant way to see London!" she kept exclaiming. "I can't believe I forgot how clever it is."

It was very helpful having a Londoner there to show me all of the sights. She pointed out Buckingham Palace (the photo that's a bit washed out but with the river leading straight through St. James Park to the palace); her workplace where she is a reporter for the Sunday Mirror; the various football (aka soccer) stadiums; the County House where rich people live and they have various exhibitions (right now it's Star Wars); and several other sights.

Earlier in the day we went to the Tate Modern art museum, which is simply fantastic (to quote N.) It was really great because it was free and the audio tour was only 2 pounds. Trust me, you need an audio tour for modern art. I saw wonderful sculptures and paintings in the modern, abstract, post-impressionist, cubist, futurist, vorticist and abstract expressionism styles. I was particularly impressed with a room where the curator placed a giant Monet water lily painting on one wall and surrounded it with three other paintings done about 40 years later by Mark Rothko, Jackson Pollock and ... and ... shoot, I've forgotten! But it was someone noteworthy. The point was to show how each of these three painters, who were revered for their new forms of artistic expression after the war, actually were inspired by Monet's impressionism. I also learned that the critics of his day (1916 and so on) actually disliked Monet's water lily paintings and dismissed them as "mere wallpaper" without form, perspective and function and that "they would look the same if they were hung upside down." Their genius wasn't actually discovered until Rothko, Pollock and others made waves with abstract expressionism and it became clear what a great debt was owed to Monet.

I could go on and on about all of the cool stuff in the Tate (which is an amazing building in and of itself) but will restrain myself now. :) I only wish my mom, and Corrie, and some of my other art loving friends could have been there with me.

It's also been so wonderful staying in London with Nikhita. Not only am I staying in a friend's home, but I'm with someone who has a car, who knows the city inside and out, and with whom I get the real scoop. She points out the clubs where the princes hang out and tells me all the "goss" about various celebrities (she gets it all in her job). It's also been nice seeing how real people live in the city and not just staying in a hostel or wandering around on my own with a guidebook (though I like doing that, too). Nikhita's new flat is in a neighborhood that is building itself back up in property value and reputation, and her adorable little place is on a courtyard that's simply bursting with English roses and plants. Apparently special needs adults tend the garden as part of a program, which is a wonderful benefit for the homeowners who live in the building.

We had fun yesterday running errands and fixing things up around her flat (she just moved in last week). Actually, Nikhita had errands to run in the morning and insisted I sleep in, which I did until 11:30 a.m. Ooops. Jet lag is alive and well. (I shorted myself on sleep last night, though, so I can get on schedule tonight). Then I lounged around her place watching the BBC and making breakfast and taking a shower and just not doing anything at all, which was actually a very refreshing change from the manic pace I've been living the last month or so. After Nikhita came home we went out to explore her new neighborhood and discovered the Purple cafe (I am sitting outside it now drinking tea and watching evening fall) and checked out some thrift stores that line the high street (aka main road). I was looking for a hair dryer and hair straightener with English plugs, but didn't find any yet. Sus tells me sadly that in England there's just no place like Unique (our Chicago favorite).

Then we went to pick up Nikhita's car from the dealer where she'd taken it in that mroning, and I had the surreal experience of sitting in a dealership in Surrey as people came in and out chatting with the clerks. Here's the surreal part: I couldn't understand most of what was said! My ears are still adjusting to the many Enlish accents and different words and I've realized I have to listen very closely to follow an entire conversation. I'll get there, though. Nikhita had to transact my train ticket buying today because I couldn't understand the British Rail woman over the phone and she couldn't understand me. She had a very strong Yorkshire accent, Nikhita said.

Nikhita does not know how to cook but is very keen to learn, so yesterday stopped at the grocery store to buy ingredients for what I call Dad Spaghetti and what she calls Spaghetti Bolognese. It was actually very tricky shopping and cooking because of how different everything is: It's not ground beef, it's minced beef. I don't set the oven to 250 degrees Fahrenheit for garlic bread, because it's in Celsius. In fact, I don't set the oven at all, because it is electric and controlled by all of these funny digital buttons with switches that make absolutely no sense to me. I have to get Nikhita to do it. I do adore, however, the creamy English butter. It made crafting garlic bread a simple joy. Anyway, I showed N. how to make the spaghetti, garlic bread and brownies (albeit from a mix) and she was enchanted and is telling everyone, "Stephanie taught me how to make spaghetti bolognese!" We had dinner with a friend of hers and the meal turned out very well, indeed, despite all of the differences in cookery (their word for cooking). I think I'm going to get a food column out of that experience!

So this post is now incredibly long and my fingers are actually starting to get cold as I sit outside. A purple fan labeled "Bushell's Removals" in bright yellow letters just drove by, horns honking. I have absolutely no idea what that means. There's so much I don't understand here, and I have been bombarding Nikhita with endless questions. "What does off license and fully licensed mean?" I ask as we pass convenience stores (they can sell liquor). "What's a congestion charge?" (an 8 pound fee you have to pay on an electric card to drive into Central London, though the nice man at the corner shop gave her a whole week's worth points for just 4 pounds). "What the heck is going on with the whole public/private school thing?" (Any parent who pays tuition for their kids to go school is sending them to a public school, although sometimes they'e called private schools. The free government schools are called "state schools." A public schoolboy is some privileged kid who attends a really posh school. Very, very odd). And etc.

Love to all from London. Tomorrow I head up to Nottingham, my home for the next 11 months! But Nikhita has assured me that I always have a place to stay in London whenever I want to visit. Bless her.

 
 
 
 


1. Stephanie and Nikhita wonder why the proprietors of the cafe we are sitting in here have called it "Purple." Still working on that one.

2. As we drive by it on our way to central London, Nikhita confesses to have always wanted to do business with this dry cleaning establishmen, simply because of its intriguing name and adorable pink fox.

3. Stephanie poses for her "obligatory tourist photo" with the Houses of Parliament, River Thames and Big Ben in the background, but really she is glowing with excitement and saying, "I can't believe I am in London again!"

4. Nikhita and Stephanie pose with their friend Big Ben from inside a capsule on the London Eye, a Ferris Wheel built for the year 2000 that gives riders a wonderful, bird's eye view of London's immense skyline.

 
 
 
 

Stephanie and Sus look lovely on the side steps of Holy Trinity Brompton church in London's Kensington neighborhood (that's her fiance Jon's church, where he's a vicar and she's soon to be a vicar's wife!)

Sus waits for a bus.

Stephanie used a scary electric toilet in a big steel electric box and is about to push the button to get out of the box (thankfully it worked). There's a 20 minute time limit, as you can see from the remaining time, she was quick to get out of there. We're wondering what happens after 20 minutes ... do the doors fly open and reveal someone sitting on the pot?

A cool mural on a building in the Soho neighborhood of London (near Picadilly Circus).

Last Day in Chicago

 
 
 
 

The Fearless Three Roommmates: Stephanie, Sara and Sarah
Esther Doo marches in the Evanston Township High School band at a Wildkits football game
Alison helps Stephanie get all her stuff into the airport...that is a lot of bags!
Alison is tired.

As you can see, my last day in Chicago was very eventful.

I'm in London!!!

I arrived at 8 a.m. this morning, got into the country by the skin of my teeth (I was interviewed by a very zealous immigration official, which is just fine, but it was a little scary) and, after an hour of wandering around Heathrow airport pushing an overloaded trolley looking for the pick-up point, finally found my friend Nikhita, who came with great mercy to pick me up.

After a fun trip to the grocery store (I had to ask Nikhita where the crisps were, because she didn't know what I meant when I said chips) we sat in her lovely new flat and chatted and ate lunch. Then Nikhita brought me to Jon March's flat, where I met up with my dear friend Sus. Jon was working at the church all day (he's a vicar at Holy Trinity Brompton and there are four Sunday services) so Sus and I had a blast in London. We took the tube to the Picadilly Circus area and spent hours wandering around looking for a toilet, inexpensive scarves and a sandwich shop, in that order. There was a giant Indian street fair going on, which was fun, but all of the sandwich shops were closed. We literally walked around and around and around looking for a place to get a sandwich. We finally bought baguette ham sandwiches inside a department store then took it to a sidewalk pub and drank beers while we ate our baguettes.

How do I describe the feel of London? Lots of stone and curvy streets and shops everywhere you look. It feels ... old. I'm exceedingly sleepy right now so can't be poetic, but let me just say that it is a wonderful city. I also toured around South London with Nikhita, which is a lot more like Chicago with varying neighborhoods, including rundown ones, but there's no place like Central London.

After our sandwich seeking adventure, Sus and I headed to Holy Trinity Brompton, a very cool church near the Victoria and Albert and the British History Museum, where Jon is a curate. It's the church that started the Alpha program, now used internationally to introduce people to Christianity. We hung out in their cafe drinking tea (I drank a lot of caffeine today to stay awake) and then went to the service. I also met lots of Jon's friends. Finally we went to a restaurant with Jon and his friends then back to his place, so now I'm just waiting for Nikhita to pick me up (she's a wonderful friend! Couldn't join us today but stil offered to be my chauffeur) so I can go back to her place and finally go to bed. I haven't been too jet lagged, actually, because I slept about 5 hours last night on the plane, thanks to an eye mask, neck pillow, ear plugs and Benadryl.

It's been a very, very long day but also an amazing day. I was so charmed by all of the British accents on the airline yesterday (I flew Virgin Atlantic) and for my first few hours in London, but I'm used to it now already. I haven't been able to understand everyone, however. It's been so wonderful to see Sus and it will be sad to say goodbye to her until I come to her wedding at Christmas, but I'm so glad we got this time together. And I'm looking forward to lots of fun with Nikhita the next few days before taking the train to Nottingham on Wednesday.

So it's all very surreal. I saw tons of London today, walked over miles of it and drove many more. I keep having to pinch myself and say, "Wow, I'm really in England." I had one of those moments after Sus and I came out of church and were waiting for Jon. I stood outside gazing up at the silhouette of the church (it's old...am too tired to look up details) but there was a gorgeous tower standing out against the English night. People were chatting in those unfamiliar accents all around me, drinking their coffee and tea in the green park, and it was a pleasant summer evening. "I'm really here," I said to myself. "I can't believe it. After all these months, I'm really here."