WARNING CONTAINS: gross exaggerations about whole nations of people, weather, more weather, a pinch of meteorologic description, mocking, sarcasm, genuine admiration, and a bit of me.
I've been meaning to the write this since the weather first began to improve, i.e. not be cloudy and 7C/45F and probably rain everyday. But now that things have really sprung, hehe, get it spring/sprung, the Brits are at a whole other level. Let me introduce you to the most seasonally affected people in the world.*
The first day it was brightly sunny for a whole six hours and there was nary a cloud in the sky, though it was still about 9C...ok, I'll be generous and say 10C/50F, I saw someone in a tank top. Sunglasses became conspicuous and at the entrance to the grocery store I saw displays of cute watering cans. Spring flowers were out for sale, ready to be placed on windowsills in the hopes that their mere presence would keep the sun's attention.
Then there was the day when it was reasonably sunny, a few cumulus clouds trying to bully their way into a shower, but moving on towards a mild 12C/53F. There were shorts adorned and many an al fresco lunch spotting. Garden center (like a nursery in America) parking lots were full. There were gardening gloves of every color and shiny sheers in the windows of the hardware stores along side the displays of Easter everything.
Whereupon the temperatures broke 16C/61F and the sky held nothing but the most distant wisps of cirrus clouds, all of Britain took to the outdoors, threw up their heads and sighed in unison, "Ah, spring!" People milled about in the sunbeams muttering, "What a beautiful day," to themselves in marked awe. Garden centers had lines/queues twenty patient Brits deep. A Bank Holiday spontaneously broke out. And fire hydrants were burst to relieve the heat!
Ok, so that last one didn't happen. They don't "bust hydrants" here unless it gets to be what I call "Melty Brit weather" or when temps reach over 30C/86F (that's not a joke). What does occur though feels like a weight being lifted from nearly every person. They are so much cheerier when it is sunny. The sun here feels warmer. Not warmer than Atlanta in July, but warmer than DC during cherry blossoms. And it seems to heat the British from the inside out. They smile much more easily. Each neighbor dying to tell you what has started to bloom in the garden they take such pride in daily. The parents outside the school gate declare that the MET office (that's THE meteorology office) has proclaimed that things will only get better; surely a heat wave over Easter will bring temperatures to a rapturous 24C/75F.
Early April also brings a long school holiday, two weeks or more, and several of the aforementioned and sacred Bank Holidays. Every garden center, National Trust house and garden, library, town/village council, church, and museum have some thing going on. I've mentioned before that school holidays where I live are a bit bewildering. Every regular activity for families stops but there are three dozen to take their place. Just today, a Wednesday, not even a Bank Holiday there are at least 24 special kid/family events on in Surrey county. There's Shaun the Sheep at Kew Gardens, pirate themed art at a few spots (is that Eastery? Springy? Arg!), Egg trails, Bunny hunts, arts and crafts, and a mill-your-own flour event. Yes. Mill your own flour.
For all my teasing, I do find it endearing that a people so cursed with grey, rain, damp, and chill at least genuinely appreciate it when the leaven in the lump, i.e. spring and summer, stand gloriously before them. A good spring day does make one feel lucky to be alive and appreciate this green island** as well as it's truly, madly, deeply seasonally affect population just a wee bit more.
*did you miss the warning at the top about exaggeration? deal with it.
** Ireland, just for today they get to use that color too. It is pretty darn green.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Notes on a Small island (apologies to Mr.Bryson)
WARNING: contains me, gross exaggerations about whole countries of people, traffic, maps, swears, and embarrassing compliments.
A few things that are "quaint" and cute and a bit mad about living in the UK aka a conglomeration of three countries plus numerous tiny islands as well as the northern quarter of a large-ish neighboring island.
These are the British Isles set into a map of the US. It is to scale. England is the bottom right 1/3, sorta. So imagine that England (~50k sq.miles) is a little less than the size of North Carolina (~52k sq.miles).
We'll start with a favorite subject, the radio. National radio (BBC) has it quirks.
So let's imagine for a moment that you're in Charlotte, NC and getting into your car for the morning commute. The traffic report comes on and you hear that there is a massive accident that has caused huge backups....in northern Virginia.
This happened to me two weeks ago on a bright, beautiful morning when upon turning on the radio I heard that a road was closed because the snow gates were down. The highways and byways here are numbered and for some reason you're meant to know all the numbers and that the bigger ones often stretch the length of the country (like inter-state 40 or 20, only a fifth the length;). So I'm meant to know that the M9 is in Scotland some 360 some odd miles away. Even though I regularly use the M3, not in Scotland.
Highways (aka Motorways) here have signs, just like in America, that can warn you of traffic jams and closures ahead. WAY ahead. I can be on the A1 near London and a sign will say that the A1 is closed at the junction with the A19. What it doesn't say is that the A19 is a four hour drive northward.
Clearly, this is, for me, a bit of a hindrance and I've basically taken to ignoring all warning signs that don't say "Stop Now." I drove down a little road for ages a few weeks ago passing signs that read "ROAD CLOSED AHEAD" for literally 15 miles before I finally came to the closure, which wasn't really a closure at all, just a weak bridge that only passenger cars were allowed to cross, one lane at a time. But it wasn't until a few miles before the closure that the signs specifically noted the closure was only for HGVs (heavy good vehicles!). I guess austerity measures have really bitten into the sign budget.
From a television show perspective, I like the whole tiny island feel. It's like the 80s in America where one great episode or miniseries would be the talk of the town. When the recently shown "Wolf Hall" aired here (miniseries of the book featuring Thomas Cromwell's perspective on Henry VII, starring Damian Lewis and some great stage actors, two thumbs up y'all) it was on the cover of the major newspapers. It was widely discussed and known. While some shows in America still generate this, it is fairly rare for it be SO seemingly universal. You wouldn't have to find your "Breaking Bad" buddy at work. Everyone would know Walter's latest dastardly deeds.
Friday was Red Nose Day here, that's a culminating day for a long build up of fund raising events for the UK's Comic Relief charity. And every school does something. Everyone watches at least some of the special telethon in the evening, even if only to see celebrities do silly things (do a search for 'red nose day skit' and enjoy some laughs). That's kind of a great feeling and something I think America has suffered from the loss of - feeling connected to the rest of the country.
Oh, British people, I can hear you rolling your eyes and muttering about the London-centric media and politics and that Scotland almost went its own way. But I'm not sure you can fathom how a person from North Carolina and a person from Oregon (3000 miles apart) can simultaneously feel "American" and yet have extremely different lives, outlooks, cultural touchstones, and experiences. But then if you push them, if you place them in say France and someone America-bashes, they will each leap to the deference of their homeland. It's weird. Nuts really that a nation should be so vast and under one flag. Ask the Chinese, they get it.
There is something to this conglomeration of three small, proud nations (yes, I'm deliberate leaving out Northern Ireland, it's not a nation,sry) that lends itself to a feeling of community that is different from anywhere else I've lived or visited. There is camaraderie, even if it just over listening to the Archers on the radio, wearing a red nose, or being truly and deeply interested in the weather two hundred miles away. It is almost as if you all might like one another. Shhh, I promise not to tell.
(next installment, coming soon, a teaser: The Most Seasonally Affected People)
A few things that are "quaint" and cute and a bit mad about living in the UK aka a conglomeration of three countries plus numerous tiny islands as well as the northern quarter of a large-ish neighboring island.
These are the British Isles set into a map of the US. It is to scale. England is the bottom right 1/3, sorta. So imagine that England (~50k sq.miles) is a little less than the size of North Carolina (~52k sq.miles).
We'll start with a favorite subject, the radio. National radio (BBC) has it quirks.
So let's imagine for a moment that you're in Charlotte, NC and getting into your car for the morning commute. The traffic report comes on and you hear that there is a massive accident that has caused huge backups....in northern Virginia.
This happened to me two weeks ago on a bright, beautiful morning when upon turning on the radio I heard that a road was closed because the snow gates were down. The highways and byways here are numbered and for some reason you're meant to know all the numbers and that the bigger ones often stretch the length of the country (like inter-state 40 or 20, only a fifth the length;). So I'm meant to know that the M9 is in Scotland some 360 some odd miles away. Even though I regularly use the M3, not in Scotland.
Highways (aka Motorways) here have signs, just like in America, that can warn you of traffic jams and closures ahead. WAY ahead. I can be on the A1 near London and a sign will say that the A1 is closed at the junction with the A19. What it doesn't say is that the A19 is a four hour drive northward.
Clearly, this is, for me, a bit of a hindrance and I've basically taken to ignoring all warning signs that don't say "Stop Now." I drove down a little road for ages a few weeks ago passing signs that read "ROAD CLOSED AHEAD" for literally 15 miles before I finally came to the closure, which wasn't really a closure at all, just a weak bridge that only passenger cars were allowed to cross, one lane at a time. But it wasn't until a few miles before the closure that the signs specifically noted the closure was only for HGVs (heavy good vehicles!). I guess austerity measures have really bitten into the sign budget.
From a television show perspective, I like the whole tiny island feel. It's like the 80s in America where one great episode or miniseries would be the talk of the town. When the recently shown "Wolf Hall" aired here (miniseries of the book featuring Thomas Cromwell's perspective on Henry VII, starring Damian Lewis and some great stage actors, two thumbs up y'all) it was on the cover of the major newspapers. It was widely discussed and known. While some shows in America still generate this, it is fairly rare for it be SO seemingly universal. You wouldn't have to find your "Breaking Bad" buddy at work. Everyone would know Walter's latest dastardly deeds.
Friday was Red Nose Day here, that's a culminating day for a long build up of fund raising events for the UK's Comic Relief charity. And every school does something. Everyone watches at least some of the special telethon in the evening, even if only to see celebrities do silly things (do a search for 'red nose day skit' and enjoy some laughs). That's kind of a great feeling and something I think America has suffered from the loss of - feeling connected to the rest of the country.
Oh, British people, I can hear you rolling your eyes and muttering about the London-centric media and politics and that Scotland almost went its own way. But I'm not sure you can fathom how a person from North Carolina and a person from Oregon (3000 miles apart) can simultaneously feel "American" and yet have extremely different lives, outlooks, cultural touchstones, and experiences. But then if you push them, if you place them in say France and someone America-bashes, they will each leap to the deference of their homeland. It's weird. Nuts really that a nation should be so vast and under one flag. Ask the Chinese, they get it.
There is something to this conglomeration of three small, proud nations (yes, I'm deliberate leaving out Northern Ireland, it's not a nation,sry) that lends itself to a feeling of community that is different from anywhere else I've lived or visited. There is camaraderie, even if it just over listening to the Archers on the radio, wearing a red nose, or being truly and deeply interested in the weather two hundred miles away. It is almost as if you all might like one another. Shhh, I promise not to tell.
(next installment, coming soon, a teaser: The Most Seasonally Affected People)
Wednesday, February 18, 2015
10 Signs you are ready for Half Term/Snowpocalypse/HorribleFlu to be over
With so many people I know at home with their kids/family for a few extra days, I just thought I'd share some the things I thought about this evening while cleaning egg noodles off my floor and scraping cookie/biscuit dough off my bread box (no, I know it doesn't go there - picture a spatula being used like a sling)
10. You're eyeing every delivery/take away menu you come across with a hopeful gleam in your eye.
9. You've begun absently reciting your child's favorite book* to yourself and are unable to stop. In my case? Giant Jam Sandwich - "And Mayor Muddlenut asked them all, "What can we do?" But nobody had a good suggestion. "
*this also works for partner's favorite song to hum/whistle
8. You've baked enough treats to feed an army AKA your partner's office mates.
7. Who says we have to wait until Friday for family movie night? Who says it has to be night?
6. You've had to distract your kids/partner long enough to remove all weapon like objects from the room for your safety as well as theirs.
5. You haven't been able to go to the toilet alone in the past 72 hours unless you sneak by their doors at 3am and hope the floor doesn't creak.
4. That story your kid is telling you is probably precocious and cute and one do you'll regret not listening but damn it, you can't let Babs beat you at WordWithFriends again!
3a for UK. You've done every trail, story time, soft play, and art session within a ten mile radius.
3b for USA. You've played every board game, read every book, found every hiding spot, built forts out of every cushion and sheet, and discovered that if you combine all the colors of playdough you just get multicolored, spotty playdough.
2. You say to your partner/visiting friend, "Could you look after them a minute, I just need to do a few things to prep of dinner." But really you watching vlog brothers videos standing at the sink while you eat the last of the chocolate. (No? Just me?)
1. The words, "Stop doing that," have become so frequent that you have it down to a look and a twitch of your finger.
10. You're eyeing every delivery/take away menu you come across with a hopeful gleam in your eye.
9. You've begun absently reciting your child's favorite book* to yourself and are unable to stop. In my case? Giant Jam Sandwich - "And Mayor Muddlenut asked them all, "What can we do?" But nobody had a good suggestion. "
*this also works for partner's favorite song to hum/whistle
8. You've baked enough treats to feed an army AKA your partner's office mates.
7. Who says we have to wait until Friday for family movie night? Who says it has to be night?
6. You've had to distract your kids/partner long enough to remove all weapon like objects from the room for your safety as well as theirs.
5. You haven't been able to go to the toilet alone in the past 72 hours unless you sneak by their doors at 3am and hope the floor doesn't creak.
4. That story your kid is telling you is probably precocious and cute and one do you'll regret not listening but damn it, you can't let Babs beat you at WordWithFriends again!
3a for UK. You've done every trail, story time, soft play, and art session within a ten mile radius.
3b for USA. You've played every board game, read every book, found every hiding spot, built forts out of every cushion and sheet, and discovered that if you combine all the colors of playdough you just get multicolored, spotty playdough.
2. You say to your partner/visiting friend, "Could you look after them a minute, I just need to do a few things to prep of dinner." But really you watching vlog brothers videos standing at the sink while you eat the last of the chocolate. (No? Just me?)
1. The words, "Stop doing that," have become so frequent that you have it down to a look and a twitch of your finger.
Thursday, February 12, 2015
A Year to infinity
On living in the UK for a year (and a bit). WARNING contains me, gross generalizations about whole countries of people, mistakes, love, exaggeration, humor, humour, and a bit of sad.
I've been living in England a year as of the end of January. I have been having a hard time deciding what to write about it; in part I think because I've gotten the idea in my head that I am supposed write about how well adjusted I am or how England has started to feel like home. No one has asked me this, so where I got that idea I can't say.
Here's what people do ask me and ask me often when they learn I've relocated here with my family:
You must miss your family? (yes, that is technically a statement, but if you've met a Brit, you know they can turn any collection of words into a question with their end-of-sentence upward tones). And each time they ask, I say yes because it is true. Then I wonder why on earth they ask questions like these. I feel they'd ask me if I was sad at a funeral, hungry at a feast, or tired at midnight. I've also wondered if I'm meant to say, "Oh, no. England is so delightful, I hardly think about my friends and family in America." I don't really think they expect that answer. Perhaps they hope for it a little though.
As for whether I am adjusted or feel at home, those are two different questions. Let me first address adjustment.
Having lived abroad before in three different countries, I can tell you from experience that there are three types of ex-pats. Ok, there's probably more, but these are the major flavors. One, the finite-here-to-do-a-job types who don't even try to look like they're integrating. They surround themselves with nothing but people from their home country if they can, rarely try local customs/food/culture, and insist on making every day life as much like _insert country_ as they can.
Then there are the temporary-but-game folks who know they are someone where for a finite period of time because of a contract or just experience with their employer. They know that they won't be around in a handful of years but they're interested and curious. They might try to learn the language a bit and strive to "do all the things" that one is supposed to do in that country given they're only there for _some time_ , e.g. go to The Great Wall, have high-tea in a fancy hotel, eat a sheep's eyeball, drink vodka made by a friend of a friend in a bathtub from some unknown fruit or vegetable (ok, that last one is probably just me).
Now we come to the kind of ex-pat I am. I am the I-have-bought-a-house-and-put-my-kids-in-school type who shrugs when asked how long I think I'll be here. I have the added enticement towards assimilation of a spouse whose is from the country in which I now live. But I am also aware that my partner and I talked about this move for eight years before we did it. I am conscious of the fact that eventually circumstances, perhaps work or family related, may pull us more strongly elsewhere. So I am not that go-native ex-pat either because I've moved over fifteen times in my life and no where has ever felt permanent to me (except my grandmother's house).
Given that I am game and interested and here for awhile, I am not so much working to assimilate myself as trying not to embarrass my husband or children too much and not make enemies if I can help it. I would not say that living here has changed me greatly, but there are a few things I have learned almost by osmosis and a few things I cannot seem to shed (perhaps because I do not wish to).
I have developed what I call British Road Rash. This is the phenomenon of becoming irrationally irritated when having let someone pass, go, turn, etc. they do not wave or flash their lights to thank me. The British have trained me to expect overt gratitude and I huff when it is not offered.
The BBC has become essential to my life. I love it. I don't even watch that much TV. If I could watch more, I would. I long for a cold that means I'd have to sit and watch the BBC all day. And damn it if BBC Radio isn't just as good. The local Surrey BBC station is not only informative but they appear to actually get things done. When people call up and complain about little along two highways in the area, they radio DJs call the councils responsible ON AIR and tell them. That's mind blowing.
But I have not gone Madonna, as many friends predicted. I think my written English has been affected more than my speech. This isn't necessarily deliberate, I think it does just seep in. I do adjust my accent depending on with whom I am speaking, but that's something I've always done. Funnily, I have to speak to my children in a British accent occasionally in order to help my oldest with reading/phonics or so that my youngest will understand me.
Lastly, I'll briefly answer "do you feel at home, now?" No. England isn't my home and it can't be. I'm not English. Nor was America "home" for my husband even after he'd lived there more than eleven years. That's not how home works, even for a fifteen-plus-moving-hobo like me. Home is a Georgia sunset, an enormous oak tree in North Carolina, grits and bacon in my Grandmother's kitchen, Brazilian food on Christmas Eve, an overly commercial but cute totally cute Valentine's party at school, March Madness, the spiritual choir at church, deviled eggs, fireflies, the cool of a summer night after the thunderstorms come through, and the hugs and laughter of the family and friends that I miss every day.
I've been living in England a year as of the end of January. I have been having a hard time deciding what to write about it; in part I think because I've gotten the idea in my head that I am supposed write about how well adjusted I am or how England has started to feel like home. No one has asked me this, so where I got that idea I can't say.
Here's what people do ask me and ask me often when they learn I've relocated here with my family:
You must miss your family? (yes, that is technically a statement, but if you've met a Brit, you know they can turn any collection of words into a question with their end-of-sentence upward tones). And each time they ask, I say yes because it is true. Then I wonder why on earth they ask questions like these. I feel they'd ask me if I was sad at a funeral, hungry at a feast, or tired at midnight. I've also wondered if I'm meant to say, "Oh, no. England is so delightful, I hardly think about my friends and family in America." I don't really think they expect that answer. Perhaps they hope for it a little though.
As for whether I am adjusted or feel at home, those are two different questions. Let me first address adjustment.
Having lived abroad before in three different countries, I can tell you from experience that there are three types of ex-pats. Ok, there's probably more, but these are the major flavors. One, the finite-here-to-do-a-job types who don't even try to look like they're integrating. They surround themselves with nothing but people from their home country if they can, rarely try local customs/food/culture, and insist on making every day life as much like _insert country_ as they can.
Then there are the temporary-but-game folks who know they are someone where for a finite period of time because of a contract or just experience with their employer. They know that they won't be around in a handful of years but they're interested and curious. They might try to learn the language a bit and strive to "do all the things" that one is supposed to do in that country given they're only there for _some time_ , e.g. go to The Great Wall, have high-tea in a fancy hotel, eat a sheep's eyeball, drink vodka made by a friend of a friend in a bathtub from some unknown fruit or vegetable (ok, that last one is probably just me).
Now we come to the kind of ex-pat I am. I am the I-have-bought-a-house-and-put-my-kids-in-school type who shrugs when asked how long I think I'll be here. I have the added enticement towards assimilation of a spouse whose is from the country in which I now live. But I am also aware that my partner and I talked about this move for eight years before we did it. I am conscious of the fact that eventually circumstances, perhaps work or family related, may pull us more strongly elsewhere. So I am not that go-native ex-pat either because I've moved over fifteen times in my life and no where has ever felt permanent to me (except my grandmother's house).
Given that I am game and interested and here for awhile, I am not so much working to assimilate myself as trying not to embarrass my husband or children too much and not make enemies if I can help it. I would not say that living here has changed me greatly, but there are a few things I have learned almost by osmosis and a few things I cannot seem to shed (perhaps because I do not wish to).
I have developed what I call British Road Rash. This is the phenomenon of becoming irrationally irritated when having let someone pass, go, turn, etc. they do not wave or flash their lights to thank me. The British have trained me to expect overt gratitude and I huff when it is not offered.
The BBC has become essential to my life. I love it. I don't even watch that much TV. If I could watch more, I would. I long for a cold that means I'd have to sit and watch the BBC all day. And damn it if BBC Radio isn't just as good. The local Surrey BBC station is not only informative but they appear to actually get things done. When people call up and complain about little along two highways in the area, they radio DJs call the councils responsible ON AIR and tell them. That's mind blowing.
But I have not gone Madonna, as many friends predicted. I think my written English has been affected more than my speech. This isn't necessarily deliberate, I think it does just seep in. I do adjust my accent depending on with whom I am speaking, but that's something I've always done. Funnily, I have to speak to my children in a British accent occasionally in order to help my oldest with reading/phonics or so that my youngest will understand me.
Lastly, I'll briefly answer "do you feel at home, now?" No. England isn't my home and it can't be. I'm not English. Nor was America "home" for my husband even after he'd lived there more than eleven years. That's not how home works, even for a fifteen-plus-moving-hobo like me. Home is a Georgia sunset, an enormous oak tree in North Carolina, grits and bacon in my Grandmother's kitchen, Brazilian food on Christmas Eve, an overly commercial but cute totally cute Valentine's party at school, March Madness, the spiritual choir at church, deviled eggs, fireflies, the cool of a summer night after the thunderstorms come through, and the hugs and laughter of the family and friends that I miss every day.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
The Theory of a Driving Test
WARNING contains: Me, unhealthy habit of American drivers, generalization about whole countries full of people, humor or humour, run on sentences and dodgy punctuation.
Today I passed the two tests that make up the first part of the British process of getting a driver's license. It was a fifty question theory test followed by watching fourteen clips wherein one must click whenever a hazard is perceived. This was my second time taking it as I failed the first time by just a couple points on the hazards and one point on the theory.
First, I'll say that the while the theory test is meant to cover the entire highway code, it absolutely biased towards three things: driver attitude, use of lights, and animals. These foci are indicative of British culture in several ways (And I hear you asking where is the funny. It is coming. Didn't I just say animals when referencing a driving test? Patience, grasshopper).
Let's first talk about the reality of driver attitude in the UK. I'd say that overall, especially outside of London, driver's here are very nice to each other. There's lots of letting in, stopping for pedestrians, waving on the other guy, and general "politeness." As you'd expect from the stereotype. Even when drivers here get shirty with each other, I've only once seen someone shouting bloody murder, honking, and gesturing at someone (British people reading this think I don't get out much). I think Brits perceive their fellow drivers as more and more aggressive the closer you get to Parliament and that's not untrue. But if most Brits saw what passes for driver attitude in say LA or on the beltway in DC, they'd be appalled. Can we say shots fired? The driving test too seems to try to emphasize keeping calm and "dropping back to a safe distance." There are a lot of questions about what to do when someone cuts you off, pulls out sharply, or tries to pass you and the answer to all of them is: ignore the behavior.
And now to the headlights. There are apparently a lot of rules about side lights and fog lights and dipped (normal beam) lights. On every practice test and on each of the formal tests I took there were questions stating/to be answered that drivers are not to flash their headlights except "to make other drivers aware of their presence." Here is where British people will laugh out loud while the rest of you are still waiting for animals. The British flash their lights CONSTANTLY. To say "thank you," to say "oh no, you go," to say "no, no, you, I'm in no rush," and to say, "why yes, I see you waiting there, cherrio." They flash their hazards/emergency flashers to say thank you for letting them in if you're behind them. Their flashers! To say THANK YOU. Brits note that in America flashing headlights mean: cops ahead, get the fuck out of my way, and stay the fuck out of it. Every once in a blue moon flashing might mean "you go ahead." On a Sunday, when you're only driving around to get away from your family and you aren't actually headed anywhere and you'll just take an extra swing from your Big Gulp while you wait. Flashing hazards mean your car has dropped its transmission in far lane of the highway and you're praying no one hits you.
And last, but not least, there are ALL the animal questions. In my practice tests I have been asked about the proper way to lead a horse down a road, what to do when a shepherd waves their arms at you, and reminded repeatedly that horses can go any way on a roundabout that they choose so BE PREPARED! The correct answer for the shepherd question is to stop, turn your engine off, and wait for them to tell you when you can go. Road crossings here have all these crazy animal names: zebra, puffin, pelican, toucan, and Pegasus. That last one is a horse crossing and it is the one that totally screws the whole "well, they're all named after black and white animals" logic people have tried to use to excuse this nonsense. I think I've seen a dozen questions involving livestock and another two dozen specifically about horses in the road. I feel like if we wrote driving tests specifically for driving in the rural South, our questions would probably center on deer running across the road, cows refusing to move out of the road, and what to do when a skunk sprays your car (tomato juice by the gallon anyone?) Oh and perhaps possum removal.
A few other things I found note worthy. The hazard perception test was the hardest to pass. The situations are CGI and I kept clicking too early and not getting many points (you get 5-0 based on how soon you see a hazard). The rules said to click when you _perceive_ a hazard. But in the end I learned that I had to click when I saw a hazard, wait a beat and click again in order to get good scores. Why? Because CGI is not real. It is predictable and false. In taking practice tests I scored well on live-action clips from the beginning, but I had to learn how to respond to the CGI clips in an unnatural way. Ironic?
There were a lot of questions about towing caravans/motorhomes. Really? Can't I get my horse to pull it?
And lastly, a note to the DVSA who puts these tests together - ditch the CGI and definitely stop telling people in your highway code to do any of the following. 1) Drive your car that is on fire to the exit of the tunnel you are in if you can. NO. NO. DO not ask a person whose car is on FIRE to drive a second longer, tunnel or not. Stop your car. Get out. Run away. Try not to run into traffic. Lucky you, the FLAMES coming from your car will likely cause other drivers to slow or stop and not run you over. 2) Turn around in the middle of a one way street rather than reversing into a parking spot and then pulling into the street the right way. WHY? Embarrassment? And it seems to me that Brit drivers are extremely happy to reverse into parking spaces. I sit behind someone reversing badly into a space at least once a day. 3) Put your handbrake on when stopped at a light. UM, what? Why? Is this light going to last THAT long? Are my brakes lights really DAZZLING? Let's have a disco by the light of my dazzling red brake lights then since this light will be so long, I'll need the handbrake.
Next stop, the practical test wherein I pray no one throws flaming sheep at my car in a tunnel.
Today I passed the two tests that make up the first part of the British process of getting a driver's license. It was a fifty question theory test followed by watching fourteen clips wherein one must click whenever a hazard is perceived. This was my second time taking it as I failed the first time by just a couple points on the hazards and one point on the theory.
First, I'll say that the while the theory test is meant to cover the entire highway code, it absolutely biased towards three things: driver attitude, use of lights, and animals. These foci are indicative of British culture in several ways (And I hear you asking where is the funny. It is coming. Didn't I just say animals when referencing a driving test? Patience, grasshopper).
Let's first talk about the reality of driver attitude in the UK. I'd say that overall, especially outside of London, driver's here are very nice to each other. There's lots of letting in, stopping for pedestrians, waving on the other guy, and general "politeness." As you'd expect from the stereotype. Even when drivers here get shirty with each other, I've only once seen someone shouting bloody murder, honking, and gesturing at someone (British people reading this think I don't get out much). I think Brits perceive their fellow drivers as more and more aggressive the closer you get to Parliament and that's not untrue. But if most Brits saw what passes for driver attitude in say LA or on the beltway in DC, they'd be appalled. Can we say shots fired? The driving test too seems to try to emphasize keeping calm and "dropping back to a safe distance." There are a lot of questions about what to do when someone cuts you off, pulls out sharply, or tries to pass you and the answer to all of them is: ignore the behavior.
And now to the headlights. There are apparently a lot of rules about side lights and fog lights and dipped (normal beam) lights. On every practice test and on each of the formal tests I took there were questions stating/to be answered that drivers are not to flash their headlights except "to make other drivers aware of their presence." Here is where British people will laugh out loud while the rest of you are still waiting for animals. The British flash their lights CONSTANTLY. To say "thank you," to say "oh no, you go," to say "no, no, you, I'm in no rush," and to say, "why yes, I see you waiting there, cherrio." They flash their hazards/emergency flashers to say thank you for letting them in if you're behind them. Their flashers! To say THANK YOU. Brits note that in America flashing headlights mean: cops ahead, get the fuck out of my way, and stay the fuck out of it. Every once in a blue moon flashing might mean "you go ahead." On a Sunday, when you're only driving around to get away from your family and you aren't actually headed anywhere and you'll just take an extra swing from your Big Gulp while you wait. Flashing hazards mean your car has dropped its transmission in far lane of the highway and you're praying no one hits you.
And last, but not least, there are ALL the animal questions. In my practice tests I have been asked about the proper way to lead a horse down a road, what to do when a shepherd waves their arms at you, and reminded repeatedly that horses can go any way on a roundabout that they choose so BE PREPARED! The correct answer for the shepherd question is to stop, turn your engine off, and wait for them to tell you when you can go. Road crossings here have all these crazy animal names: zebra, puffin, pelican, toucan, and Pegasus. That last one is a horse crossing and it is the one that totally screws the whole "well, they're all named after black and white animals" logic people have tried to use to excuse this nonsense. I think I've seen a dozen questions involving livestock and another two dozen specifically about horses in the road. I feel like if we wrote driving tests specifically for driving in the rural South, our questions would probably center on deer running across the road, cows refusing to move out of the road, and what to do when a skunk sprays your car (tomato juice by the gallon anyone?) Oh and perhaps possum removal.
A few other things I found note worthy. The hazard perception test was the hardest to pass. The situations are CGI and I kept clicking too early and not getting many points (you get 5-0 based on how soon you see a hazard). The rules said to click when you _perceive_ a hazard. But in the end I learned that I had to click when I saw a hazard, wait a beat and click again in order to get good scores. Why? Because CGI is not real. It is predictable and false. In taking practice tests I scored well on live-action clips from the beginning, but I had to learn how to respond to the CGI clips in an unnatural way. Ironic?
There were a lot of questions about towing caravans/motorhomes. Really? Can't I get my horse to pull it?
And lastly, a note to the DVSA who puts these tests together - ditch the CGI and definitely stop telling people in your highway code to do any of the following. 1) Drive your car that is on fire to the exit of the tunnel you are in if you can. NO. NO. DO not ask a person whose car is on FIRE to drive a second longer, tunnel or not. Stop your car. Get out. Run away. Try not to run into traffic. Lucky you, the FLAMES coming from your car will likely cause other drivers to slow or stop and not run you over. 2) Turn around in the middle of a one way street rather than reversing into a parking spot and then pulling into the street the right way. WHY? Embarrassment? And it seems to me that Brit drivers are extremely happy to reverse into parking spaces. I sit behind someone reversing badly into a space at least once a day. 3) Put your handbrake on when stopped at a light. UM, what? Why? Is this light going to last THAT long? Are my brakes lights really DAZZLING? Let's have a disco by the light of my dazzling red brake lights then since this light will be so long, I'll need the handbrake.
Next stop, the practical test wherein I pray no one throws flaming sheep at my car in a tunnel.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
OK, You Win Christmas.
Warning: contains gross generalizations about whole countries of people, hear-say, humor, exaggeration, and things based solely on my experience.
I have to declare, after my first Christmas "at home" in England, that the British really do Christmas far better than we do in America (with the exception of not containing all my beloved family, my friends, good guacamole, coffee cake, nor TraderJoe's). Let me explain...and note that if you're not a Christmas celebrator, for whatever reason, on that front the UK doesn't really offer much relief. Sorry.
Christmas music begins in early December, not November, and it is just a smattering of tunes until about the 20th and then it is still by no means non-stop. There is a daily radio reminder of how many days there are until Christmas and countdown clocks in many places as well as decorations and sales of Christmas things all around. But that incessant drone of every cheesy tune recorded and recorded a hundred times, that inability to turn on a radio or shop in store without being bombarded by MariahCarey, the pain of going into any waiting room - it just doesn't happen here. I know! I see you plotting your UK visa application as we speak. Sweet relief!
A brief post-script to the music thing - they don't seem to do the novelty songs here at all. No Adam Sandler song's to nod at Chanukah, no Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. Nada. Though some of their native tunes (songs recorded by British artists over the years that never made it to the US for good reason) border on inadvertent humor tunes.
In a few years time I'll probably regret this, but the fact that virtually every event, service, informal gathering, shopping center, party, road-side stand, Christmas tree farm, historic house, garden shop, Santa's Grotto (see below), end of term parent meetings, YOU NAME IT offers you a mince pie and mulled wine (or non-alcoholic hot cider) is kind of adorable. The average Brit consumes about 27 mince pies every Christmas (7 million are left out on Xmas Eve for Santa along with liquor, not milk) and as far as I can tell only a handful of those are eaten at home. The rest are being handed out, sold for charity, or bought at a ridiculous mark-up in tea shops and cafes all over the country. The mulled wine too flows everywhere. Alcohol consumption in the UK rises by about 40% over the holidays and I'm guessing the mulled wine pushers on every corner are at least partly responsible.
Ok, you waited patiently, a "Santa's Grotto" is like the mall Santa thing in America. And just like in the States there is a great variety and quality to these spots. It seems where I am that every "garden center" (that's garden/home store to y'all) has one of these. We went to one at the "rural life center" nearby that had a steam train drive you out to a small village with displays, animals, elves working in a workshop, and a Santa that knew the kids' names and gave them a present. No photo packages were offered. The gifts were not sponsored by Coca-cola. Of course, the Santa was also just kind of OK (fake beard, pillow substituting for mince pie fed bowl full of jelly). You can do more commercial Grottos but they're not the only or most popular options.
What I am told is a more recent tradition here, is my favorite. The churches here do an afternoon service on Christmas Eve (and since the sun goes down at 3:30, it is dark at 5 for it!) wherein the kids are all invited to dress up! You can come as any character from the Nativity story. Then when they do the readings, the kids participate. The angels lead the shepherds, the stars lead the wise men, and all the Mary's, Joseph's, and barnyard beasts hang out in the barn. It is nothing short of adorable.
Someone here commented to me that they felt Christmas in the UK was more commercial than in the US. They said this because the US has a reputation here for being more non-secular. Funnily, I find it almost the opposite. Christmas is a bigger deal, a larger celebration in the UK. Though is isn't necessarily in-your-face-Jesus here, I think it is hard to avoid and would be hard to participate in other celebrations at or near Christmas as they are definitely over-looked. Whereas in America, it can feel SO commercial. SO you MUST be MERRY. And in both places there is pressure to give lots of presents, to almost give more than you can or should "because it's Christmas." Maybe I am seeing it differently as a first timer, maybe I'm looking back at America with skewed vision too. But I have enjoyed the Christmas season here in the UK. There are literally hundred of activities and events centered around the holiday, some secular and some not, all fairly cool and fun. Want to ice skate? Want to shop in an out-door Christmas market? Want to ride a carousel and eat hot chestnuts? Want to see a group of reenactors make a Tudor Christmas dinner? Want a sleigh ride? Want to watch a farcical version of fairy tale (aka a Pantomine*)? There's one on every day in December. No really. Every day.
One last tiny thing I learned that I found fascinating. The last day of work (for most middle class people) before the "hols" is a huge party day. The amount of alcohol purchased nation-wide on this day is higher than Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. That's a lot of office party hangovers!
Thanks for reading and I wish you a new year filled with love and light plus a little pain and darkness so you can be extra thankful for the good stuff.
PS - Love Actually film fans, the whole "Christmas Number One" song thing is actually really a thing! But sadly, there were no lobsters in any nativity plays I saw.
*I haven't been to a live Pantomine. I will go one day. But until then, if you don't know what I mean and you live in Raleigh, it is like Ira's A Christmas Carol but more crass. Everyone else, it is like the Three Stooges meets Disney meets South Park (with less cursing).
I have to declare, after my first Christmas "at home" in England, that the British really do Christmas far better than we do in America (with the exception of not containing all my beloved family, my friends, good guacamole, coffee cake, nor TraderJoe's). Let me explain...and note that if you're not a Christmas celebrator, for whatever reason, on that front the UK doesn't really offer much relief. Sorry.
Christmas music begins in early December, not November, and it is just a smattering of tunes until about the 20th and then it is still by no means non-stop. There is a daily radio reminder of how many days there are until Christmas and countdown clocks in many places as well as decorations and sales of Christmas things all around. But that incessant drone of every cheesy tune recorded and recorded a hundred times, that inability to turn on a radio or shop in store without being bombarded by MariahCarey, the pain of going into any waiting room - it just doesn't happen here. I know! I see you plotting your UK visa application as we speak. Sweet relief!
A brief post-script to the music thing - they don't seem to do the novelty songs here at all. No Adam Sandler song's to nod at Chanukah, no Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer. Nada. Though some of their native tunes (songs recorded by British artists over the years that never made it to the US for good reason) border on inadvertent humor tunes.
In a few years time I'll probably regret this, but the fact that virtually every event, service, informal gathering, shopping center, party, road-side stand, Christmas tree farm, historic house, garden shop, Santa's Grotto (see below), end of term parent meetings, YOU NAME IT offers you a mince pie and mulled wine (or non-alcoholic hot cider) is kind of adorable. The average Brit consumes about 27 mince pies every Christmas (7 million are left out on Xmas Eve for Santa along with liquor, not milk) and as far as I can tell only a handful of those are eaten at home. The rest are being handed out, sold for charity, or bought at a ridiculous mark-up in tea shops and cafes all over the country. The mulled wine too flows everywhere. Alcohol consumption in the UK rises by about 40% over the holidays and I'm guessing the mulled wine pushers on every corner are at least partly responsible.
Ok, you waited patiently, a "Santa's Grotto" is like the mall Santa thing in America. And just like in the States there is a great variety and quality to these spots. It seems where I am that every "garden center" (that's garden/home store to y'all) has one of these. We went to one at the "rural life center" nearby that had a steam train drive you out to a small village with displays, animals, elves working in a workshop, and a Santa that knew the kids' names and gave them a present. No photo packages were offered. The gifts were not sponsored by Coca-cola. Of course, the Santa was also just kind of OK (fake beard, pillow substituting for mince pie fed bowl full of jelly). You can do more commercial Grottos but they're not the only or most popular options.
What I am told is a more recent tradition here, is my favorite. The churches here do an afternoon service on Christmas Eve (and since the sun goes down at 3:30, it is dark at 5 for it!) wherein the kids are all invited to dress up! You can come as any character from the Nativity story. Then when they do the readings, the kids participate. The angels lead the shepherds, the stars lead the wise men, and all the Mary's, Joseph's, and barnyard beasts hang out in the barn. It is nothing short of adorable.
Someone here commented to me that they felt Christmas in the UK was more commercial than in the US. They said this because the US has a reputation here for being more non-secular. Funnily, I find it almost the opposite. Christmas is a bigger deal, a larger celebration in the UK. Though is isn't necessarily in-your-face-Jesus here, I think it is hard to avoid and would be hard to participate in other celebrations at or near Christmas as they are definitely over-looked. Whereas in America, it can feel SO commercial. SO you MUST be MERRY. And in both places there is pressure to give lots of presents, to almost give more than you can or should "because it's Christmas." Maybe I am seeing it differently as a first timer, maybe I'm looking back at America with skewed vision too. But I have enjoyed the Christmas season here in the UK. There are literally hundred of activities and events centered around the holiday, some secular and some not, all fairly cool and fun. Want to ice skate? Want to shop in an out-door Christmas market? Want to ride a carousel and eat hot chestnuts? Want to see a group of reenactors make a Tudor Christmas dinner? Want a sleigh ride? Want to watch a farcical version of fairy tale (aka a Pantomine*)? There's one on every day in December. No really. Every day.
One last tiny thing I learned that I found fascinating. The last day of work (for most middle class people) before the "hols" is a huge party day. The amount of alcohol purchased nation-wide on this day is higher than Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. That's a lot of office party hangovers!
Thanks for reading and I wish you a new year filled with love and light plus a little pain and darkness so you can be extra thankful for the good stuff.
PS - Love Actually film fans, the whole "Christmas Number One" song thing is actually really a thing! But sadly, there were no lobsters in any nativity plays I saw.
*I haven't been to a live Pantomine. I will go one day. But until then, if you don't know what I mean and you live in Raleigh, it is like Ira's A Christmas Carol but more crass. Everyone else, it is like the Three Stooges meets Disney meets South Park (with less cursing).
Saturday, December 13, 2014
An Honest Holiday Newsletter
WARNING: contains totally made up things and real things and exaggerated things.
Merry Christmas, nearly, and Happy Hanukkah and, well, there are just so many options. Whatever yours is, I hope you have a great time or at least get a few nice naps in so you're refreshed!
Our year has been just spectacular. Little Joey has become a real problem eater; he just screams at most every meal until the rest of us can't stand it. So his diet is largely made up of yogurt, fig newtons, and goldfish crackers. It's not the best, but it works for us! He's also having a great time in daycare a few days a week while I look for work (gotta pay for Marsha's piano lessons somehow!). I'm told he likes to bite the other children and occasionally steals pacifiers with fresh drool to use for himself. This explains the multiple rounds of stomach flu and regular flu we've had in the house for the past six months. He is still awfully cute though and has taken to calling Daddy "poop, poop."
Speaking of Marsha, she's growing up so fast and makes us laugh every day. She's started kindergarden this year and has surprised us all by being sent to the principal's office twice for stealing another girl's lunch box. It's a Bratz lunch box like the one we wouldn't buy her. She keeps taking it and trying to make the other girl keep her Dora the Explorer box. Still, Marsha has also been learning to read and write. We're so proud of her letter to Santa this year. She wrote quite clearly that she'd like a "bicycle, shoes, and a new mama." Our proudest moment though came during the school Christmas play, just yesterday. While sitting on stage in her adorable donkey costume, she began to chew her toenails. With her mouth. While center stage. I have photos!
Billy, our oldest, started third grade this year and with the exception of his math teacher telling us that he's at least a year behind all his peers, it has been a stellar first semester. We would tutor him, but we don't understand the new math. So perhaps those piano lesson will have to wait as we find the money for a math coach. Oh well, at least he's enjoying playing football. His dad says little Billy has become quite the bench warmer! Billy's greatest skill though is his kindness, he's the sweetest big brother he could be, for which I am extremely thankful.
But how are Jeff and I you ask? Well, between his long hours at work, financial pressures, my exhaustion, and our oppressively judgmental in-laws, I'm not sure we know. We had to stop having a once a month date-night after my mother scared the kids with a bed time story involving Wall Street "pirates" pillaging the "99%" and leaving us all "homeless and abandoned by the state." When we do get a few minutes together, we both agree our kids are nuts but may come by it naturally. We day dream about when the kids are older and start ignoring us so we can get to know each other again. Then we stop and look at each other's photos and videos of them and try not to cry about how lucky we are to have them and our crazy little life.
From our family to yours, dear friends and family, we wish for you a year like ours filled with mistakes, shenanigans, laughter, tears, fights, make-ups, winning, losing, togetherness, and all the things you'd like to ask Santa for and more (except for a new mama. y'all are stuck with me and I love you.)
Holiday Greetings from the whole Oslott-Joseph Family?!?!
Merry Christmas, nearly, and Happy Hanukkah and, well, there are just so many options. Whatever yours is, I hope you have a great time or at least get a few nice naps in so you're refreshed!
Our year has been just spectacular. Little Joey has become a real problem eater; he just screams at most every meal until the rest of us can't stand it. So his diet is largely made up of yogurt, fig newtons, and goldfish crackers. It's not the best, but it works for us! He's also having a great time in daycare a few days a week while I look for work (gotta pay for Marsha's piano lessons somehow!). I'm told he likes to bite the other children and occasionally steals pacifiers with fresh drool to use for himself. This explains the multiple rounds of stomach flu and regular flu we've had in the house for the past six months. He is still awfully cute though and has taken to calling Daddy "poop, poop."
Speaking of Marsha, she's growing up so fast and makes us laugh every day. She's started kindergarden this year and has surprised us all by being sent to the principal's office twice for stealing another girl's lunch box. It's a Bratz lunch box like the one we wouldn't buy her. She keeps taking it and trying to make the other girl keep her Dora the Explorer box. Still, Marsha has also been learning to read and write. We're so proud of her letter to Santa this year. She wrote quite clearly that she'd like a "bicycle, shoes, and a new mama." Our proudest moment though came during the school Christmas play, just yesterday. While sitting on stage in her adorable donkey costume, she began to chew her toenails. With her mouth. While center stage. I have photos!
Billy, our oldest, started third grade this year and with the exception of his math teacher telling us that he's at least a year behind all his peers, it has been a stellar first semester. We would tutor him, but we don't understand the new math. So perhaps those piano lesson will have to wait as we find the money for a math coach. Oh well, at least he's enjoying playing football. His dad says little Billy has become quite the bench warmer! Billy's greatest skill though is his kindness, he's the sweetest big brother he could be, for which I am extremely thankful.
But how are Jeff and I you ask? Well, between his long hours at work, financial pressures, my exhaustion, and our oppressively judgmental in-laws, I'm not sure we know. We had to stop having a once a month date-night after my mother scared the kids with a bed time story involving Wall Street "pirates" pillaging the "99%" and leaving us all "homeless and abandoned by the state." When we do get a few minutes together, we both agree our kids are nuts but may come by it naturally. We day dream about when the kids are older and start ignoring us so we can get to know each other again. Then we stop and look at each other's photos and videos of them and try not to cry about how lucky we are to have them and our crazy little life.
From our family to yours, dear friends and family, we wish for you a year like ours filled with mistakes, shenanigans, laughter, tears, fights, make-ups, winning, losing, togetherness, and all the things you'd like to ask Santa for and more (except for a new mama. y'all are stuck with me and I love you.)
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