In Memoriam of the Best Dog in the World

6/20/10

Location: Arlington, VA and memories from North Dakota

Last week was off to a great start: I’d settled into my job, got to know my supervisors and coworkers better, spent time at the apartment with my roomies, explored the Rosslyn neighborhood, and went swimming for the first time at my apartment’s pool. Then, I called my dad after work on Thursday, June 17, since I figured my mom, whom I received a missed call from at work, would be at water aerobics. I walked out of the metro station into the bright sunshine and warm air, and listened to the ring.

“Hey Dad, are you busy?” I asked after he answered, thinking he would be preoccupied with something at the farm.

“We’re just on the way to Milton,” he replied. “Brought Rex to Park River.”

“Oh, OK,” I said. “How is he doing?” As stated in the post "London Calling," my dog has cancer and has been struggling with various symptoms, including the loss of his vision. I just spoke with my Dad a couple of days earlier, though, and he said Rex was having some good days. I figured he brought him to the vet in Park River for another check-up, since he had been taking him there quite frequently to check his white blood cell count, weight, etc.

“He’s gone,” my dad seemed to choke on those words. “He was in so much pain…” he trailed off. “Here’s Mom.”

My mom came on the phone and explained to me that they decided to finally put Rex down since his systems were continuing to shut down and he had really been suffering, even more than usual, lately. “It just wasn’t fair to him to make him keep living like that,” my mom said, her voice breaking. She said she was with Rex when they did the procedure; my dad couldn’t handle it and had to stay in the pickup. She said she sang him his favorite song and he went to sleep for the last time with a smile on his face.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

I was walking home still, and told her I’d call her back after I got to my apartment.

I got home, set my purse on the floor and slid off my shoes, than just sat on my bed and cried. I looked up, only to see the photo of Rex, our beloved dog of 6 years, taped to my wall. The tears came harder. He wasn’t just a dog to us, and I know probably everyone with a pet says that, but it’s true. We treated him like a person and he acted more like a person than any other dog I’ve ever seen. Rob and I would call him our brother, and we were only half-kidding, and my parents would joke about their three kids, the R’s: Ris, Rob, and Rex. He had an extensive vocabulary and always seemed to understand what you were saying. You may say come on, he can only understand sounds and how they correspond to actions. No, he knew much more than that, and other dogs do, too. (Suggested Reading here). Rex also had an acute ability to sense emotion, and he’s comforted every one of us when we were feeling sad, anxious, or ill. Rex absolutely loved to cuddle up to people, too. I always thought all dogs were liked that since Rex is also my first dog, but I’ve come to learn that’s definitely not true. Rex loved resting his head on your lap, snuggling into you on the couch, and leaning against your leg when he stood by your side. He’s also known for “petting” you when you pet him: he would repeatedly lift and gently drag his paw on your leg or arm when you were patting his head or scratching his ears. Finally, he was a big fan of giving “kisses” and would give you several if you asked or made a kiss noise with your lips.

While he was our family’s dog, he was my dad’s guardian angel, best friend, and shadow. While he listened to all of us without fail, my dad was his true master. It causes me more heartbreak to think of their separation then it does to think of my own. While I truly love my dog, I’ve been away most of the time for the last three years. Rex has been by my dad’s side everyday: rain or shine, office or farm, home or away, hunting or wrestling on the kitchen floor, walks outdoors or sleeping indoors. When my dad did have to leave, Rex would seemingly go into depression. He wouldn’t touch his food, barely drink any water, and rest by the closest door, his ears perking up whenever he heard a vehicle or footsteps that might be my dad returning to him. My dad’s had many dogs throughout his life and he’s always said none of them could compare to Rex. He was my dad’s stress medication, his sidekick, his little redhead baby. As much pain and heartache I feel at the loss of our Rex (Rexy, Rexer, Rexus, Rexus Pexus, T-Bone), I know it doesn’t compare to how my dad must feel.

It’s hard to believe that when I come again, he won’t be there to greet me like he always did. He would always give me the same lit-up eyes, smile, and waggy tail no matter how long it’s been since I last saw him. He always remembers me. And I’ll always remember him.

I’ll remember his big, knowing brown eyes fringed with red and blonde eyelashes. I’ll remember his velvet soft ears and his crimped red fur behind them. I’ll remember the feeling of his wet tongue on my face and the feeling of the rough pads of his paws in my hands. I’ll remember how he would stare out our kitchen window (his “TV”) forever looking at the squirrels and birds and how he would scamper around in a circle, his nails clicking on the floor, whenever he was excited or about to be fed. I’ll remember how when he was fed, especially if it was one of his faves (French toast, eggs, steak) he would vacuum the paper plate of food at lightning speed, causing all of us to crack up and chide “Take a breath, Rex!” I’ll remember giving him baths after he came back dirty and smelly from the farm, and afterward how he would shake in a wave from his head to his tail. I’ll remember lying on the foyer rug next to him with his paws on my shoulders and me scratching his belly. I’ll remember how he treated his many toys and stuffed animals like they were his prey or his pups: some were submitted to tearing, biting, and shaking when he was playing hunting, others were used as pillows and carted around and guarded like they were his own young. I’ll remember his dancing to his “Who Let the Dogs Out?” musical treat jar, his adorable fear of storms, fireworks, and our Roomba, his love of Christmas, his not-so-subtle begging techniques, his acting abilities and how he was a ham in front of crowd of any size, his love of sleeping in the sun (even if that meant getting up every 20-30 minutes to follow it as it moved across the window), and the thwap of his tail on the floor after you left him, that grew in volume and speed in order to signal to you that he wanted you to come back.

Rex gave my family and I unconditional love and thousands of smiles and laughs over the past six years, and while losing him truly is like losing part of our family, I am grateful we had the time we did with him. He’s left a hole in our hearts, but that hole couldn’t be there if our hearts weren’t filled with love and joy by him first. I know we’ll see him again. Maybe it will be in heaven, or maybe he will be just like Enzo (from The Art of Racing in the Rain). Either way, that dog was something special and he changed my family’s life forever.

All dogs go to heaven, but Rex was our angel on earth, too. I'll always miss him.

 ♥ Joseph's Magnificent T-Rex 2/22/02-6/17/10 ♥

Rex and I in 2006

Rex and I in 2010



The Three R's



Playing with new toys at Christmas.



Such a happy little guy.

Brother napping with Rex.



Typical day at the office.



Rob and I back in 2004, only days after we got Rex.



Rex this past winter in our backyard.

"To call him a dog hardly seems to do him justice, though inasmuch as he had four legs, a tail, and barked, I admit he was, to all outward appearances. But to those who knew him well, he was a perfect gentleman."

-Hermione Gingold

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

6/14/10
Location: Arlington, VA/Washington D.C. area

I have officially been in D.C. for over one week now. To be honest, living and working here has required a lot more observation and adaption than any of the other six countries I traveled to in May. It is probably because I am spending a much longer period of time here and I am on my own and not with a group of 11, and getting around, working, and living here requires a lot more of my own processing. There is certainly so much that I have learned at my internship, both things that I was told and things I had to pick up on myself, but I can’t discuss that. What I can discuss is how things have gone in D.C. so far outside the workweek.

Things I’ve Learned on My D.C. Downtime:

1.     The Lay of the Land
My apartment is in Arlington, which looks pretty close to D.C. on a map, but it really isn’t. I knew I had to figure out how to get to work on the Hill before I actually started, so last weekend I took the Metro into the District to see if I could find it. The Metro truly is very easy to use and figuring out which lines and stops my commute required wasn’t difficult. However, once I stepped out of Union Station, finding my destination was a little trickier. There are signs everywhere by the National Mall telling people (mainly tourists) where to go, but not here. To make matters worse, they aren’t fond of numbered streets and if a street isn’t named Independence, Constitution, etc., it’s named A, B, C, D, E, F, etc. I got a little lost and had to call my mom back home to see if she could point me in the right direction by looking online. I eventually found my destination, after walking in a circle and getting drenched in rain (last time I leave my apartment without my umbrella in my purse). I was pleased I had successfully figured out how to get to and from work. The commute is about 40-45 minutes though, so I need to find another book to read after I’m finished with Roxana Saberi’s Between Two Worlds: My Life and Captivity in Iran. However, despite my initial satisfaction, I realized that there is so much more of D.C., Virginia, and Maryland on the metro lines that I have no idea how to get to and have not yet explored. I’m extremely excited to go back to old favorites like Georgetown and Alexandria’s Old Town, but even more enthused at the prospect of new favorite places.

2.     Online Shopping (For Professionals)

Now, anyone who knows me will tell you I love to shop. My roommates, close friends, boyfriend, and family will tell you I absolutely, positively love to shop online. I like a good mall and shopping with company, but you can never beat the sales online. Plus Googling “STORENAME coupon OR promotion code” before purchase works like a charm. Oh, and there is the no sales tax when I ship to Moorhead! Before my arrival in D.C. though, my purchases were mainly limited to sporadic clothes purchases from places like Forever 21 and American Eagle. Soon after settling into my apartment, I realized there were several things I needed. There’s no Target, Wal-Mart, or the likes in sight or nearby on the Metro. My roommates informed me those are all driving distance, but none of us have cars.  Fortunately, there is a CVS and a Safeway nearby, so I did stock up on full-size toiletries and groceries (walking with that haul home was not pleasant). But I still needed a pillow, a lunchbag, slippers! I ended up browsing pillows online at Target, Macy’s, and Kohl’s. Can’t say I’ve ever comparison-shopped and read consumer reviews for pillows before, but that’s what I had to do since I couldn’t touch it in-person. I needed a pillow so badly. Sleeping with a couch pillow and my folded Concordia blanket did not make for a night of uninterrupted, deep sleep. I got my hypoallergenic, down-filled, medium firm pillow just three days later and I couldn’t be happier!

I also got a Built lunchbag since packing my lunch during the workweek is a must to save the $ and apparently, no one brownbags it. Add slippers, a photo frame, work clothes from NY and Company, and a GRE study book and vocab box, and I had quite the week of shopping from my Macbook. Also, my lovely, thoughtful mother sent me a cute red trench coat that she bought online—awesome for those thunderstorm days; I won’t get drenched again! Thanks, Mom.:) Start-up costs were big, but hopefully now all I will have to buy is groceries and the occasional going out activities. Emphasis on th “hopefully.”

3.     You’re Not in North Dakota Anymore

The first thing I noticed during my first few days of the commute is how everyone looks the same. It’s quite disturbing, really. There are thousands of interns alone and everyone is wearing the business professional uniform, marching along like chicly dressed black ants up the hill known as the Capitol. It seems like nearlyevery girl is wearing pearl or diamond studs and carrying a Longchamp bag. I had never even heard of Longchamp bags before and had to ask my roomies what they were and why everyone had them. I also met my roommates’ friends and was shocked at how different their lives were from mine. I’ve never met anyone that lives like them before. It felt like I was dropped into an episode of The Hills when we went out for lunch—like I was sitting at a café with Audrina, Stephanie, and Lo and talking about the things they talk about. It was surreal. Everyone I’ve met has been extremely nice and friendly, but there’s something about the lifestyles and attitudes I’ve encountered that make me crave the down-to-earth nature and simplicity of the people and the life, respectively, in the Midwest. I miss my wonderful family, friends back home and in Fargo-Moorhead, street dances, the lakes, road trips, driving my CR-V with the windows down and the radio up. That’s how I imagine summer. It makes me wonder where I’ll end up. I’m almost done with college…I know I don’t want to settle down in a tiny town with little opportunities available, but now I also know that I have no desire to be a cog that does the same thing everyday for a gigantic machine in a metropolis either.

4.     Museums are More Fun Solo

Since I had some time to myself this past weekend since Whit is gone for the week and my other roomies, Anna and Kristi, were out, I decided to hit up some of the museums in D.C. I went to the Smithsonian Museums of Natural History and American History, and the Newseum. I’ve gone to plenty of museums before, and you can see in previous posts that I traveled to museums on my around the world trip like the Egyptian Museum and the British Museum. But every time I go to museums, I’m always with someone. Not this time. And it wasn’t strange like I thought it might be. It was better. When I’m with a group, I often just look with my eyes and maybe scan through a few captions or sidebars. When I was alone, I soaked everything in. I looked at everything closer and I read every word I could in the time I had. It was so much fun. I’ve never had such a great weekend more or less by myself before. The Newseum was a major highlight. It’s all about the news and journalism, my future career area, and historical and current events, which are probably my most passionate interest. For someone who loves the news and history, the Newseum was a dream come true. It’s also extremely interactive—there are so many things you could touch and they have 15 theaters, including one in 4-D. The Newseum also brought out a range of emotions from myself, which I wasn’t expecting. I’m normally not an extremely emotional person, especially at museums of all places. But I was delighted when I saw they had a place for my favorite social commentators Colbert and Stewart, dismayed when I saw the press freedoms around the world, awestruck when I saw D.C. from the 6th story Pennsylvania Avenue Terrace, and proud when I watched an movie about women in journalism. However, the exhibit that touched me the most was the 9/11 exhibit.

As I took in the front pages from that tragic day, the heartbreaking photographs, the tangled mess of the television and radio tower that once stood atop the first tower, I actually cried. The words and the photographs were heart wrenching on their own, but while reading them, I would flashback to that day. I can remember it, even though I was only 12 when it happened. I remember I found out first because my dad is a commodities broker (as well as a farmer) and my parents called the school to tell them. My parents actually spoke to some bond traders in the WTC towers regularly through their business. We watched the news for the rest of the day in the library. I remember sitting there in our plastic chairs at the TV on wheels, shocked and horrified by the thick, black plumes of smoke coming from the first tower and pouring into the sky. “You are watching history,” our librarian told us grimly. “This day will never be forgotten.”

5.     “You're on your own.  And you know what you know. And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.” –Dr. Seuss

One last thing I’ve learned (or realized, rather) is that I graduate in less than a year. One year! That’s it and then I enter “the real world” as people call it and leave this fantastical picnic of fun and games known as high school and college. Which led me to wonder…what next? I made one big choice four years ago and now I’ve just been living the college life. True, I’ve always thought about what I want to do and I have been planning for it as I go. The thing is “it” is kind of vague and I’m not really sure what the next big decision I make will be. I am thinking I want to go to graduate school to get my master’s degree in journalism, so while in D.C., I decided it would be better to plan ahead then to think later “Oh shit, I should have done that then.” I ordered that GRE prep book and vocab box and requested program information from a handful of the top J-schools. I’m satisfied with that for now, but it’s still a little disconcerting just to think about the future. Where will I go? Who will come with me? Who will I lose touch with and who will always be there, no matter the distance? I have goals in mind, but there are always different courses and I have no idea how things will play out. But I suppose no one ever does, and that’s the fun of it.

"I go here." At the airport on the way to D.C.

My apartment living room and patio.


This T-Rex at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History doesn't
bare a striking resemblance to my T-Rex...


View of the Capital Pride festivities from the Pennsylvania Ave.
Terrace at the Newseum.


Me on said terrace.


Some of the 9/11 frontpages.


Giant screen in the entrance to the Newseum, which was showing
footage of the BP Gulf Coast oil spill...so awful.


One of my favorite quotes about journalism.


My roommates, Anna and Kristi, and I at "Jazz in the Garden":
Jazz performances on Friday evenings in the National Gallery of Art's garden.

My PSA

6/5/10
Location: Grand Forks to Fargo to Minneapolis to D.C.

I have my very own public service announcement for you today: NEVER, ever, fly Delta Airlines if you can help it, e.g. no other possible option is available. I’ve never had a great or even positive experience with Delta before, but today blew every other encounter I’ve had with them out of the water. I woke up at 4:45 A.M. today to get ready for my 7:00 A.M. flight. I was very excited to get to Washington, D.C. as soon as possible, because my new roommates wanted to have dinner together and we were all invited to a party with other college students and interns in our apartment complex this evening. Plus, I have to buy a pillow, toiletries, groceries, etc. after I arrive, and I wanted to get that all taken care of. On the way to the airport from our Grand Forks hotel to GFK with my dad, I get a phone call from a number I do not recognize. It was Delta. A very nice automated message told me that my flight, which was supposed to board in 30-45 minutes, is now cancelled. They kindly “protected” me by rebooking my flight from GFK to MSP at 1:00 P.M., and rescheduled the MSP to DCA flight accordingly as well. Thanks for the notice.

“Great,” I thought, but I figured I would just go in to GFK and I would see what is going on and make sure that my rebooking works. After standing in line for a good 20 minutes behind other ruffled passengers, I finally got to speak with Kristen. Oops, she told me, the 1:00 P.M. flight is way overbooked thanks to Delta’s automated system. The next flight out of Grand Forks to Minneapolis is at 5:00 P.M., putting my arrival in D.C. just after 11:00 P.M. Would I like to do that? It took me about 1.5 seconds to calmly say no, that I absolutely do not want to arrive in the city long after nightfall and try to get all three of my bags there. Kristen told me that was the only option for me unless I wanted to fly out tomorrow, which was of course, a definite no. I asked if Fargo had anything available. She said that there was a 7:30 A.M. flight out of Fargo. I said I don’t think I could make that flight, considering it was about 6:15 A.M. at the time of our conversation. She then said there was also a 10:50 A.M. flight from Fargo. I said I’d take it. I would get to Minneapolis around noon and leave for D.C. at 3:00 P.M. and arrive around 6:40 P.M. Not ideal at all, but the best we could do for the situation. I asked if they were compensating people and if I could get a voucher for my inconvenience. Sure, she replied. She printed me off two meal vouchers: $7 for breakfast and $7 for lunch. “This is it?” I asked. “Yes, that is all I’m allowed to do and that is what everyone has been getting,” she said curtly. I glanced back at the long line behind me and decided I didn’t want to make a scene, so I mumbled OK and took my new boarding passes and measly meal vouchers.

I relayed the info to my dad, who had left to go save his pickup from being towed since he parked somewhere he wasn’t supposed to. My dad had planned to drop me off and then go spray his crops, but now he had to run me back into town to discuss with my mom what we would do to get me to Fargo. My mom was going to drive me to Fargo and then drive herself back home. She was even more upset than my dad and I were at the major wrench Delta threw into our plans, since my younger brother is sick at home and my dog has been ill and in a lot of pain recently. She was infuriated when she heard that all I got was meal vouchers. We switched my luggage from my dad’s pickup to my mom’s Highlander, and my mom and I were off to Fargo. We wanted to be sure I had a seat on that flight, since a lot of other passengers from the 7:00 A.M. flight were going to Fargo as well. On the way, she called Delta since she was sure they do more for compensation for an overbooked flight than meal vouchers. She was right, and my dad headed back to the Grand Forks airport to get the compensation we should have received earlier. They weren’t going to give him anymore than the meal vouchers either, but my dad persisted and asked what a flight from Grand Forks to Fargo costs right now. They begrudgingly gave him that amount as a flight voucher.

My mom and I made it to Hector in record time and I did get a seat on my new flights, although it was a “seat request” pass and I didn’t find out what my seat would be until right before I boarded. We checked my bags, and they gave my mom a gate pass so she could wait with me for a while, as my plane didn’t leave for another couple hours. We read The Forum, and then security finally opened. We removed our shoes and I took out my Macbook and liquids, and proceeded toward the X-ray machine and metal detector.

I had to go through the metal detector three times. The first time I had to remove my scarf. The second time I had to remove my belt. The third time he asked me if I had anymore metal. I showed him my Cobber ring, bracelet, and earrings. That’s all I had, but apparently it was still setting it off, which I can’t believe. He reluctantly waved me through with a look that said, “I’m still not sure about you, but I can’t find anything else you can take off.” But still, that was fine; I understand he is just trying to do his job. Then came the X-ray machine. “Whose backpack is this?” a TSA woman asked. “Mine,” I said. She told me it needs additional screening. Fine by me. I’ve had to do this before on the May seminar and it was no big deal.

Wrong. After 14 flights in a month in a total of eight countries, I never had my bag screened like this. First, she unhooked every snap and plastic buckle on my rugged North Face backpack for seemingly no reason at all, since most of them just hold in the extra straps or are for looks only. Then she unzipped all of the compartments and took almost everything out. “What is this?” she asked of my black jewelry case. I took it with me because I know I’ll want my jewelry in D.C. since I’ll be dressing up everyday, and I wasn’t about to check it and risk losing it. She started to open it sideways. “Careful!” I yelped. “It’s my jewelry.” I had to just watch in horror as she emptied nearly every little compartment of the long case and pulled out my necklaces and earrings onto the stainless steel counter. She rubbed her fingers in every box and then stuffed all of the jewelry haphazardly back in the case. She proceeded to do the same thing to my zippered pouch of charger and USB cords. She then X-rayed everything one more time to be sure I still wasn’t harboring any weapons of any sort, and then finally gave me my stuff back.

I completely understand that TSA has to be vigilant about security, but I was honestly dismayed that my bag was torn apart like that when it had only been looked at and swiped for an explosive test on my international flights. Granted, the security wasn’t Delta’s fault, but it only added to my bad day of flying. Oh, and they also confiscated several items from my mom’s purse and condescendingly informed her that she needed to have a plastic bag for those liquid items and she could not bring her Leatherman tool along. She obviously showed them her gate pass and told them she wasn’t even flying anywhere, she didn’t have a ticket. Did that matter? No.

My mom and I said our goodbyes shortly after and she left, after retrieving her contraband items. I was standing in line for my seat assignment when I met several other passengers who should have been on the Grand Forks flight at 7:00 A.M. as well. One woman and I were discussing our final destinations and the pain it was that Delta cancelled so late. I asked her if she knew why we were cancelled, since Kristen did not tell me. No, she said. She assumed a mechanical problem of some sort. The lady in front of us overheard and turned and smiled. “Oh, no, no,” she said. “They got my husband and I checked in, then when they were checking her in,” she said, pointing to her young daughter, “an error came up. They didn’t know why at first, but then they discovered it.” She paused briefly. “A flight attendant called in sick.”

“You’re kidding!” the other woman exclaimed and I just shook my head. It was so ridiculous and ludicrous that we wanted to laugh, but couldn’t because all of our original trip plans were so destroyed. “Don’t they have subs or something?” the woman I was originally speaking with asked. “Yeah, really, I said. I mean, how many do they even need for a 45 minute flight?” Maybe they only had one, but the fact that at least 30 people (that I saw when I was in GFK, there could be more) had their trip plans and days derailed because of one sick person? Wow.

Well, I am sitting in the Minneapolis airport now, so fingers crossed that Delta manages to get me and all of my bags there! I already have my return flight booked, but after that, there’s no way I’ll ever be flying Delta again.

LATER…

Well, I did finally get to Washington, D.C. around 6:40 P.M. I also did get my bags, and they were not sent to BWI like they did to my good friend Jackie. After retrieving my bags, I took a taxi to my new home for the summer in Arlington. My new apartment is wonderful. It has a spacious, elegantly furnished living room, kitchen, dining area, and two bedrooms and bathrooms. To top it all off, there is a 500 sq. ft. patio that offers a spectacular view of the Washington Monument. I share a bedroom with Whitney, a great friend of mine from college, and the other bedroom is shared by my other two roommates, Anna and Kristi. They are both incredibly nice and I can’t wait for all of the fun the four of us will have this summer! When we are not working, that is, since we are all interns. Speaking of work, I start on Monday. I am excited, but a little nervous, as well. It feels incredibly strange to be living and working in a new city, but in a good way. I’m hoping for the best and am looking forward to what the summer will bring.

Platform 9 ¾

5/27/10
Location: London, UK

Another beautiful day in London! Besides our first half day here, which was in the 80s, it’s always cool, in the 50s to 60s, and sunny. Today we started off by going to the Tower of London and the Tower Bridge. The Tower of London is the oldest building used by the British government. The complex was built in stages, and construction began in 1078 with the Norman White Tower (built by William the Conqueror) and concluded in 1238 with the massive curtain wall with 13 towers (built by Henry III). I previously thought the Tower of London was just a prison, but it really has been used for practically everything under the sun: fortress, royal palace, treasury, armory, mint, zoo, observatory, and home to the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom. We didn’t have time to tour the Tower of London today, and if I had known that, I would have visited the Tower when I had free time in the afternoons earlier. I just knew we were going there and thought we would, but we only looked at the outside. It sounds so interesting and I’m sad we weren’t able to tour it.  We also saw the Tower Bridge, the suspension bridge with two towers that is an iconic symbol of London.

We also saw the London Bridge, which isn’t as old as the Tower Bridge and has been reincarnated several times. The London Bridge most people think of in their minds when they hear the phrase is the one that is actually now in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. All four of my grandparents have either spent the winter at Lake Havasu or vacationed there for a couple of weeks during the winter, so I’ve seen it in AZ from their pictures, although I haven’t been there myself to visit them when they are there yet!

Then, Kelly had a special tour for us. She is one of the two students on the May seminar with Jonathan’s post-colonialism class. She and Jenny were required to lead an informative tour of a location on our trip. Kelly brought us to the side of London that most tourists never see. She took us to Banglatown, which is comprised of immigrants from many different countries and cultures. It’s more run-down than the rest of London that we saw, but it was also similar to places we saw in India and Egypt. They have street markets that sell everything the residents need, education centers that educate women and teach ESL, hospitals, and a lot of ethnic food restaurants. Kelly told us all about the area, which has seen many migrants come through. For example, a mosque there was previously a Jewish synagogue and before that, a church. It was cool to see the other side of London and realize that it is not at all made up of strictly white English men and women, but is a melting pot just like New York City.

Our next stop that afternoon was Abbey Road, location of the iconic Beatles album cover from 1969. I am not the Beatles’ number one fan, and in truth, I think they are quite overrated. But I do like some of their songs and my brother IS their number one fan and my mom likes them, too, so I definitely had to go visit Abbey Road and take a picture like the Beatles. Abbey Road is in such a picturesque neighborhood and there are always people there imitating the Beatles on the crosswalk. We were there on a Thursday afternoon and there was still a line to go walk across. I was surprised at how busy the intersection was. You actually had to time when you went across because there were so many vehicles and not everyone stopped at the crosswalk like they should. I suppose locals are thoroughly annoyed with the crowds on Abbey Road, but hey, you can’t blame them! Afterward, we went to a store full of vintage Beatles memorabilia and I got a few things for my brother and mom. Those of us whose stomachs weren’t feeling up to eating in Banglatown had lunch at a pub called Duke of York and got some of our favorite dessert afterward at, you guessed it, a geletaria.

There was a few hours to spare after we were finished at Abbey Road before we had to meet at the Temple underground station for our Harry Potter walking tour of London, so Jenny and I decided to hit up Oxford Street and do some real shopping—not souvenir shopping, but every girl’s favorite pastime shopping: shopping for clothes, shoes, and accessories for yourself! A lot of the stores on Oxford were a little too expensive and ritzy for a couple of college students from the Midwest, but we did make some purchases at a couple stores. I bought a couple of lightweight, dressy tops to wear with my business suits during my internship this summer at H&M, which they also have in the US, but I’m convinced they have more selection and trendier items in London. The tops look stylish and professional, but they are machine washable. Score. We were looking for somewhere else to go that we could afford, when we noticed that a third of the people walking by us on Oxford were carrying brown paper bags with the words “PRIMARK, Oxford Street” on them. We thought this Primark store must be something special if apparently nearly everyone we saw went there today, so we decided to check it out.

Primark was indeed something special! It is a gigantic, two-floor store that is like a warehouse of everything you could ever want: clothes, shoes, accessories, house items for men, women, and children. Everything is ridiculously cute and trendy; it reminds me of a cross between Gap and Forever 21. Only a little better, because it is London, one of the fashion capitals of the world. Oh yeah, and everything is super cheap. No wonder everyone had bags from Primark! The downside was it was packed with people and a little difficult to get around all of the racks and shelves with so many excited shoppers. Later, our guide for our walking tour of London would tell us that there were lines (or queues, as they say) down Oxford Street and actual riots when it first opened. I got two summery dresses, two pairs of cute flats, a top, and a belt, all for about 35 pounds, so I was definitely satisfied with Primark despite the crowds. It was so worth it.

After a couple hours of shopping, it was time for our Harry Potter walking tour of London! I adore the Harry Potter series. They are among my favorite books and since I started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in 5th or 6th grade and read every book the week it came out, I’ve really grown up with Harry, too. Our tour by BritMovieTours took us on a two and half hour walk of London, with a lot of stops to Harry Potter filming locations, as well as locations of other movies such as Bridget Jones’ Diary, Mission Impossible, Entrapment, Sweeney Todd, and more. Our guide, Celia, was incredibly knowledgeable and gave us a lot of additional information about London, such as the history of famous buildings, The Great Fire of London, and other cultural facts.

At the conclusion of our Harry Potter walk, Celia took us to the underground station King’s Cross, the famed location of the magical Platform 9 and ¾ in the Harry Potter books and movies—the gateway to the Hogwarts Express. Normally, Platform 9 ¾ is just a brick wall with half of a metal trolley attached to it and a plaque that says “Platform 9 ¾” for HP fans to take a cool photo. However, today was our lucky day! The cast and crew of the final Harry Potter films wrapped up their last day of filming today for the two movies based on the seventh and final Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows!  Daniel, Emma, and Rupert were all gone already, but all of the location props were still there! There was the REAL Platform 9 ¾ signs, and piles of the wizards’ and witches’ trunks and owl cages between platforms 4 and 5 at King’s Cross station! Our group got to actually talk to the location manager and some of his crew (all wearing green “HP7” badges!) about how the final day of shooting went today! It was so, so amazing to see the real-life set of the Harry Potter movies! I can’t wait to finally see the movies in theaters and think “I was there!” Definitely a dream come true for this Harry Potter fan. The only way it could have been better would be to actually see (and meet!) the stars, but I’m still thrilled with what we did get to see.

At the conclusion of our Harry Potter walk, we met up with Scott and Anna, who weren’t interested in Harry Potter. I wish they would have come though because Celia covered so much more about London than just Harry Potter film locations and we saw so many places in the city that we hadn’t previously. Scott and Jonathan had planned for us to eat a pub near the London Reform Club, the club where Phineas Fogg made the bet that he could travel around the world in 80 days. We read the book prior to the trip, so they thought it would be fitting to conclude where Phineas Fogg began. However, all of the pubs and restaurants close to the Reform Club were full of businessmen and women decked out in designer dress clothes while drinking champagne and smoking cigarettes, so we decided those weren’t quite the places for us, clad in jeans, T-shirts, sweatshirts, and cross-body bags or backpacks. It ended up being quite the search for somewhere that was appropriate and my feet were aching since we just got done with our two and a half hour tour and had been on our feet all day. We eventually found a steakhouse that was still serving at 10:00 P.M. so we had our final group meal there.

I can’t believe that as I write this, I am already on my way back to the United States, to Chicago, to Minneapolis, to Moorhead, to home. This trip has been a whirlwind and it has been 14 takeoffs and landings and more bus, train, taxi, ferry, and boat rides than I can count, but the travel has made this trip special. I know other May seminars stay in one location for the entire 25 days, and that is the traditional method of global education. Personally, I am of the other school of thought that the more places and cultures you are exposed to, the better. Do I know any of the countries we visited extremely well? No, I do not and I would never claim to. But, I feel that I have learned quite a bit for the days we were in each city and if you’ve been reading my blog, perhaps you think so as well. I also experienced quite a bit—I don’t think any other May seminar participants can say that they paraglided off a cliff in New Zealand, scuba dived the Great Barrier Reef in Australia, rode the Star Ferry in Hong Kong, rode an elephant in India, rode a camel at the Great Pyramids of Giza in Egypt, and walked across the Abbey Road crosswalk in London. I got a good taste of everywhere we went and while I wasn’t immersed in the place or culture for long, I did take away a great deal from my short time there and I know where I would like to return someday. I also learned how to travel and how to adapt to a new place in short order. Looking back, it’s hard to believe that we were in six countries and ten cities in just 25 days. We were really moving, but it was a month in motion that I will never forget and always look back on fondly. I’m confident I made the right selection for my study abroad experience. I went from seeing only three countries (US, Canada, Mexico) to nine! Every day was incredibly rewarding and I can’t wait to go back in my memory every time I look at one of my 1,000+ photos.

Tower of London

Me by the Tower Bridge

The group by the Tower Bridge

Abbey Road

Gorgeous

King's Cross station HP7 set!!

Where's Hedwig?

Going to Hogwarts through the tourist's Platform 9 3/4.

R-O-C-K in the U-K

5/26/10
Location: London, UK

Ah, the gothic beauty of the Collegiate Church of St. Peter at Westminster. Or, as you may know it, Westminster Abbey. We arrived at Westminster a little later than our scheduled time because we decided to take the bus instead of the tube and let’s just say the bus was a leetle bit slower than the subway. Anyway, we made it. However, we didn’t have a tour guide or even the portable audio guides, which according to the website, are free…hmmm. I felt like I needed more information and at some points in my wondering around the Abbey, I actually craved and felt a pang in my stomach for wanting to know a how or why question. I guess that’s just my curious nature on steroids since there were so many tombs, memorials, sculptures, architecture, etc. to take in. and Regardless of the lack of guiding and information, Westminster Abbey is incredible. The sense of history and the passage of time is utterly overwhelming. The current church was built by Henry III in 1245 and I don’t think I’ve ever seen such beautiful architecture. Tombs and memorials aside, I could spend hours just looking at all of the pointed arches, vaulted ceilings, flying buttresses, stained glass windows, and altars.

There has to be thousands of people either buried or with memorials at Westminster. I couldn’t find a count on the Web anywhere, but Wikipedia lists the most notable here. It was so fun to find names I recognized like Charles Darwin, T.S. Eliot, Muzio Clementi, Isaac Newton, and Rudyard Kipling. It became like a giant word search for me: could I locate the famous names I knew amongst the thousands of people I’ve never heard of that died nearly a thousand years ago.

The grandeur and majestic air of the Abbey is something that must be felt, rather than seen. It felt like I was entering the hall of gods, like I was a peasant called to the palace of kings. In a way, I suppose I was, given the staggering number of royalty buried there. I’m not one for superstitions or belief in ghosts or things of that nature, but I swear you could feel something extraordinary when you walked through the Abbey. I don’t want to say vibes, but it was something like that. I don’t have a word for it. You could just sense all of the souls that were buried there through the centuries; it was like a weight that transcends the standard five senses. That’s the best I can explain it.

After Westminster Abbey, it was time to power walk through St James Park to get to Buckingham Palace in time for the changing of the guard. Buckingham Palace, as you should know, is the residence of the British monarch, who is currently Elizabeth II. There are a whopping seven regiments of guards that guard Buckingham Palace: The Life Guards, The Blues and Royals, The Grenadier Guards, The Coldstream Guards, The Scots Guards, The Irish Guards, and The Welsh Guards. Which is which? You have look very, very closely to tell and I have no idea which are the ones that we saw.  Anyway, I wasn’t too impressed with the Changing of the Guard. The actual change process probably takes about 5 minutes, but all of the ceremony, pageantry, and fanfare lasts about an hour. I can only see so many bearskin hats marching and hear so many heavy brass songs before I must stifle a yawn. I get that protecting the Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh is a big deal, but all of the pomp and circumstance got to be a little much for me. The only nagging question I had after seeing the soldiers in red do their thing was, “Can they see with those giant furry hats on?” They weigh 1.5 lbs and if they don’t obscure, they definitely must irritate the eyes.

After the Buckingham ceremonies, we hustled over to hop a ferry across the Thames to get to the Globe Theater. We were supposed to have a tour there, but I guess there wasn’t enough time to do one before the 2:00 P.M. showing of Macbeth that some of the group went to. For those of us who did not go to Macbeth but were going to another musical later that evening, we had to go back the way we came. Brock and I went back to Leicester Square to get tickets for us and Jonathan for the musical We Will Rock You. Yes, a musical that features the songs of Queen. Awesome, right? After getting tickets and having a hot dog and delicious Cadbury ice cream cone from a vendor for lunch, we had a couple of hours to spare before a group dinner at the Hard Rock Café.

Brock and I decided to go journal after getting tickets. We sought out a coffee shop near the Hard Rock, but couldn’t find one nearby. We ended up journaling at the swanky Intercontinental hotel. We were definitely underdressed, but we tried to act like we belonged and posted up at a table with leather chairs to get some writing and people watching done.

It was soon time to reunite with the rest of the group for dinner at the Hard Rock. First of all, I love Hard Rock Cafes. Seriously great tasting food, plus an immense rock memorabilia collection? Count me in. I’ve been to several in the US and got the requisite T-shirt (the decorative, girly ones, not the standard one) at each of those, so I picked up a purple and bronze tee from London. I was especially excited about London’s Hard Rock Café because it is the first one! It opened in 1971 and the memorabilia tradition began there in 1979 when Eric Clapton told owners Isaac Tigrett and Peter Morton that his red Fender Lead II guitar would look nice on the wall. The London Hard Rock is famous for still attracting rock stars like Clapton for burgers and impromptu jam sessions. I didn’t get to see that, but it was still very cool since I love old and new school rock-and-roll.

The rocking continued as Jonathan, Brock, and I’s next stop was the Dominion Theater for We Will Rock You. The jukebox musical was written by Ben Elton and Queen members Brian May and Roger Taylor. It’s been playing since 2002 and is the longest-running show at the Dominion. It was originally supposed to be a biography of Freddie Mercruy, but apparently Ben Elton found that too difficult to work with and suggested instead he, May, and Taylor create an original story that captures the spirit of Queen’s music. Hence, Elton created a computer-controlled dystopia that has banned human creation of music and one called “The Dreamer” must fulfil a prophecy for the return of rock-and-roll. It’s even more messed up than it sounds the “plot,” if you must call it that, is crap. The Daily Mirror wrote that “Ben Elton should be shot for this risible story,” and The Guardian quipped that WWRY is “ruthlessly packaged and manufactured.”

BUT, the crap storyline allows for over 20 Queen songs to be belted out by the incredible cast, and their powerful voices combined with the stellar instrumentals allowed for some goosebump raising renditions. There were a few songs I actually liked better than the originals. It was understudy night and most of the leads were portrayed by understudies, but it was nearly impossible to tell—they were amazing. It was more concert than musical, but it was a very fun ride. The little boy next to us said it well: “This is the best night out EVER!”

I really wish I would have budgeted for seeing a musical every night in London. I would have loved to see Wicked again, Hair, The Lion King, Legally Blonde, and many others. The energy and entertainment of a musical is unbeatable. I’m in awe every time I see one. Maybe it’s because I don’t sing well or because I’m too shy to have much of a stage presence, but I just think it’s absolutely incredible that those actors do what they do. The power to completely morph into another character and commit to it so well, and be so passionate that an entire auditorium completely believes you are perhaps the best lies ever told.

Westminster Abbey

Inside the Abbey (before I realized there were no photos allowed...oops:s )

Changing of the Guard

Again

Me outside Buckingham Palace.

The awning says it all.

We Will Rock You at the Dominion Theater

On Avenue Q

5/25/10
Location: London, UK

First full day in London today and I loved every minute of it! We’re in London for almost four days, but there is more to do here than any of the other stops on our world tour so we have to fit in all of the “absolutely must-sees.” We started off the day at the British Museum. My initial thought was “Museum? Eh…” I am 100 percent for the acquirement of knowledge and I think museums definitely are made for that, but I always seem to learn more and have more fun when I am actively doing things rather than passively reading little captions about ancient objects. But, I was proved wrong, as I have been a few times on this trip! The British Museum is enormous; its collections have more than 7 million objects. Not everything is on display of course, but there are still over 90 rooms full of incredibly pieces. There's not enough time to see everything, but by utilizing the museum map, you can easily pick the exhibits you are most interested in.

Secondly, the British Museum has so many fascinating objects, some of which no other museums in the world have. For example, I mentioned that we saw a copy of the Rosetta stone at the Egyptian Museum, but the British Museum has the real deal! They also hold more ancient Egyptian possessions than anywhere in the world besides the Egyptian Museum in Cairo. It surprised me that they had so much and they had many things that I’m sure the Egyptian Museum would love to have and probably have a right to have, such as the Rosetta Stone, the mummy of Cleopatra, and the beard that fell from the Great Sphinx. Sure enough, after looking up the British Museum online after our visit, all of those items and more are hotly contested. The British Museum has claimed that “restitutionist premise, that whatever was made in a country must return to an original geographical site, would empty both the British Museum and the other great museums of the world" and also references their 1963 act that states that no object may leave the museum after entering it. While I can see their point that if they gave up everything that was made in another country that they would only be left with English items, some things of high importance and value to a particular country should be returned to them, like the Rosetta stone to Egypt and the Elgin marbles to Greece.

The British Museum has exhibits on every area of the world, spanning every era of human existence (the Americas, Europe, China, Japan, ancient Greece, ancient Rome, Assyria…), as well as special exhibits, such as Enlightenment, Living and Dying, Money, Clocks, and so on. All of these exhibits surround the Great Court, which is a stunning circle with cafes and the museum shops with a glass ceiling that lets the natural light hit all of the granite and white columns. The British Museum also clearly has a great deal of funding from its trustees, and everything in the museum has print information on a metal plaque or cream-colored card and all of the important artifacts are on pedestals or surrounded by crystal clear glass. This was a stark contrast between the Egyptian Museum, where many objects had only handwritten notes about them and all of the large statues and sarcophaguses I saw were not covered by anything, and many people touched them, even though they weren’t supposed to. By the time our two hours were up at the museum, I had thoroughly enjoyed myself and wished we had more time available to explore the vast depths of the British Museum’s treasures.

However, as I said, time is of the essence in London, so it was time to move to the Leicester Square underground station to pick up some half-price tickets for a musical. We received week-long underground passes for our time in London, and they definitely paid off. We took the underground, or “The Tube” as Londoners refer to it, everywhere we wanted to go. One thing I noticed when traveling on the Tube is Londoners’ obsession with tabloids: everything fashion and gossip, they love it. Granted, we do have tabloids in America and a lot of people do read them, but there seems to be an understanding that tabloids do not contain the important news of the day and obviously do not adhere to journalism standards. From my observations, tabloids in America are often scoffed at, and if they are read, they are read for laughs rather than information processing. In London, so many people on the Tube were reading the tabloids and it appeared they were seriously viewing and digesting all of the articles, which had headlines such as “CROSSBOW KILLER EATS LIVE RAT.” London is said to be the spiritual home of journalism, so it really shocked me that many of their major newspapers have closed (certainly not London exclusive, as that is happening at a rapid rate in the US) and that all types of people, from elderly men to businesswomen were reading all of that crap. Maybe I’m missing something here…if anyone reading can fill me in on this, please do.

Anyway, we picked up our musical tickets for that evening. We had some extra money in our May seminar budget, so Scott and Jonathan gave us each 30 pounds to put toward a cultural arts event, like a musical or a Shakespearean play the Globe. Seven of us decided to go see Avenue Q and we got tickets great seats in the middle section of the stalls at the Wyndham Theater later that evening. After securing our tickets, we grabbed lunch at a London café and checked out yet another souvenir shop. We had the rest of the afternoon to explore London, but we knew we would be going to the major attractions (Westminster, Buckingham, Tower of London, etc.) over the next couple of days, so we decided to relax at Hyde Park.

I loved Hyde Park. It is lushly green and full of people relaxing by the Serpentine Lake, jogging with their dogs, or strolling with friends. I just felt completely comfortable and even serene there. I enjoyed that while most of the open lawns were neatly mowed, some were not and most of the bushes and flowers were not manicured and it gave Hyde Park a wilder, more whimsical feel for me. I felt kind of like I was entering The Secret Garden from the novel of the same name, if that garden was 625 acres. We walked for about an hour on the pathways by the Serpentine, just enjoying the fresh air, the sunshine, and the quiet, easy atmosphere of Hyde Park.

Soon, we came to a buoyed off area where there a handful of swans gliding around! One of my favorite movies as a little girl was The Swan Princess, and I have never seen a swan in real-life before, not even at a zoo. There were two things I noticed about these swans. One, they are damn big. Bigger than ducks, bigger than geese. They are bigger than small dogs like chihuahuas. They looked like they could hurt a child. But of course, they wouldn’t, because of the second quality I noticed. They really are graceful. Their necks form a perfect half of a heart and they simply, nonchalantly glide over the water, almost like they are sliding on glass. There’s none of the splashing and butt flaunting that ducks and geese do, just smoothly swimming around the lake, with an attitude like they know they are being admired.

Our next stop was the Diana, Princess of Wales, memorial. I remember Diana’s death well, even though I was only six when she passed away. I remember the weeks of news coverage and I’m 95 percent sure my mom cried. I have a Beanie Babie that was created in her honor that is dark purple with a single white rose on the left side of its chest. She was so loved by so many people across the world. When we were in Agra, India at the Taj Mahal, the VIP chair is called the Princess Di chair.  Her memorial was different than I expected. I was expecting a grand statue, perhaps surrounded by water or a garden, where there would be crowds of people taking photos of her memorial. Her memorial is actually a gray rock flume in a shape in a loose figure-8 shape. There is a short waterfall that falls over rows of circular rocks, and then the water flows through the rest of the shape until it returns again to the waterfall.  There is a grassy area in the middle, and the only way you would know it was her memorial is an engraving in the rock by the waterfall that said “Diana Princess of Wales Memorial Fountain opened by her Majesty the Queen on July 6 2004” I read later that it was designed to express Diana’s spirit and love for children, and judging by the many kids I saw giggling while wading through it, it is certainly fitting.

We continued to walk to the park toward the Peter Pan statue. Kelly had been to London before this trip and she wanted to go back to see it again and thought the rest of us would like it as well. It’s a great, whimsical statue that symbolizes the carefree and lighthearted spirit of a child and I loved taking a fun photo with it. One thing we didn’t see in Hyde Park that I really wanted to was the famed Speakers’ Corner. But at least I guess it’s another reason to return to London someday. We had a couple hours free before it was time to leave on the underground to Avenue Q, so we went to London’s bookstore Waterstone’s to catch up with our journals. It is hard to write for an hour every day when we’re always running and doing things, then later we’re tired from the running and doing! So it was nice to relax with a summer berries smoothie in Waterstone’s coffee shop Costa Coffee and get a couple of entries finished.

Finally, it was time to head to Avenue Q! I absolutely love musicals and I was so excited to see one in LONDON! I usually only get to see musicals at Frost Fire summer theater in Walhalla, ND and the only major musical I’ve seen was Wicked in Chicago. West End Theater in London is considered to be “the highest level of commercial theater in the English-speaking world” along with New York’s Broadway, and Avenue Q definitely was high quality. It won three Tony awards in 2004 for Best Musical, Best Book of a Musical, and Best Original Score.

Avenue Q is the funniest show I’ve ever seen, and I say show as a collective term for musicals, plays, movies, and TV shows. If I wasn’t laughing the entire time, I definitely had at least a smile on my face from the opening song to the finale. I was a little dubious about the use of puppets, but it made the musical even more humorous and it really does take skill and talent on the actors’ part to control the puppet’s mouth movements and gestures while moving their own bodies at the same time. Avenue Q is called the musical for the i-Pod generation, and I guess that is true, because I could definitely relate to it and got every piece of humor. But I also think that it’s relatable for anyone, no matter what their age. So many things in Avenue Q, like finding a job after college, finding someone you love to spend the rest of your life with, and finding yourself, are universal and I think nearly everyone, even if you’re uptight and PC, would find Avenue Q side ache hilarious.

I’ve never considered myself a theater geek by any means, and really the only experience I have with theater besides seeing Frost Fire shows and Wicked was acting in Missoula Children’s Theater plays as a kid. But seeing Avenue Q made me realize that Wicked was not a fluke—I really do love musicals. I guess it makes sense because I love music and movies, but I never knew I loved them until London. That’s one of the many wonderful things about this May seminar—you never know what you love, or hate, until you experience it. Sometimes, one experience isn’t even enough and you have to do it or see it again, and again, until it finally hits you in the face and you realize “Hey, I kind of really love this.” More musicals are definitely on my to-do list. Next up, the Legally Blonde tour stop in Vienna, Virginia.

Side entrance to the British Museum.

The Rosetta stone

Bust of the Roman emperor Augustus

Princess Diana Memorial

Me on the Peter Pan statue.

Waiting for Avenue Q to start!