Hassocks: THE RETURN

Upon the request of my two loyal fans, I have decided that I really do need to provide an update of my time in Hassocks, England with my relatives.  I have two words to describe the overall experience: peaceful and happy.

The trip to the U.K. was uneventful enough, other than the fact that the bilingual boy sitting in front of me on the plane started being adorable to me right before we exited the plane.  Oh, yeah--and the fact that I was in line at passport control for about an hour.  A strange, yet polite and chatty woman behind me in line struck up a conversation with me after awhile, and I think it was because we were both tired of listening to "typical" American college boys discussing why exactly they were so tired.  This woman, whose name I didn't catch, was initially from Las Vegas, but moved to Darby because a.) she married an Englishman and b.) God told her to.  (She, er, teaches and does missionary work; you know, all that jazz.)  Despite that bit of awkwardness, the company was welcome, and we managed to make it through the long line with little difficulty.

Poor James, however, had been waiting for me for about an hour, and he became a bit worried when my flight went off the board and I wasn't in sight.  I mean, I'm short, but it is kind of difficult to miss me--you know, with my awesomeness and all.  I had tried to send Marion a text message, but, being also a silly person, I had forgotten to check the U.K. area code.  Regardless, I found James, and we thus made our way to Great Aunt Barbara's flat in Hassocks.

Those of you who have read the post of my first visit to Hassocks realize the importance of meeting Barbara for the first time back in March.  So, you can imagine my contentment when James told me that I'd be spending the afternoon with Barbara until Marion returned from work, seeing as he had a later shift that day.  Barbara looked and seemed as good as ever, and we spent the great part of the afternoon and evening talking, having tea and biscuits, and generally enjoying each other's company.  Eventually, Marion arrived, and the three of us went to the house to have dinner and relax for the night.

It really was a happy day for me.  Travel had gone relatively well (barring passport control; James thought it was the drugs they found), and I had spent the rest of the day feeling once again welcomed into this family.  I had a feeling that the trip would become even more special, and I was right on the money.

The next day, Friday, was quite relaxed, as my main achievement was...walking the dog, Skye.  Why is this worthy of mention?  Why, for many reasons, of course.  Because of this:

Preeeeeeeeeeeeetty.

And this:

Skye is an awesome dog--and my BFF the entire stay.

And I would also post a photo of Marion, but unfortunately I have none from this trip.  Marion or James usually take Skye on an hour-long walk across the Hassocks countryside.  And by "countryside," I mean "in the country, where sheep and cows roam and farmers can shoot dogs for disturbing the sheep."  I loved it.

Hassocks may be a small village between London and Brighton, but it has a lot going for it.  The community is small and tightly-knit, everything is within walking distance, and the scenery is a dream.  I am still trying to come to terms with the fact that a part of my family lives in this beautiful countryside, even during the long, rainy English days.  The entire weekend was beautiful, literally--the sun shone, and it was even warm enough to leave open the back doors all day.  Being able to sit on the grass in the garden sans shoes after our walk gave me a sort of peace that reminded me of my first days in Celle.

 This represents happiness.

As does this hobbit house.

The next day brought about a similar feeling of peace, as Katie, Marion, and I had a picnic outside in the garden (with Skye the Mooch getting a piece of sandwich along the way--hey, it was her birthday), cherishing the rare warmth and sunshine and enjoying each other's company, really.  After awhile, we headed to the neighborhood preschool to briefly watch the fair going on, and then we putzed a bit around Hassocks, particularly the (new) antique store.  And what gems I found:

Yep.  Klassy with a "K."

After our little romp through the village, we returned to the house in order to get ready.  For what, you ask?  Why, for the opera, of course.

Have I ever mentioned that Marion is an opera singer?  Yes?  Well, tough patooties; I'm repeating it now.  She is an opera singer, and she's gotten back into amateur opera after a few years.  And why did I decide to visit my relatives on this particular weekend?  I'll give you three guesses.

Papagena in The Magic Flute.

Papagena...in The Magic Flute.

Papagena in The Magic Flute.

That's right; Marion performed as Papagena in an English translation of Mozart's The Magic Flute, and Saturday was the closing night.  I had been interested in seeing Marion perform in an opera--indeed, it was on my list of Things to Do Before I Die--, and I am proud to say that she was one of the best aspects of the amateur production.  She told me afterward that she hammed it up specifically because I was there, and I agreed with her interpretation; Papagena is a comical figure, and because she has a small but fun role, Marion's performance received chuckles and applause for her duet with Papageno (who, though not a strong singer, was an admirable comedic actor).  And while Marion and I had far too much fun criticizing the performers the next morning over breakfast, I really quite enjoyed the production.  And it made the visit all the more special, for both parties involved.

Sunday called for a visit to Rye, a small harbor town about an hour and a half away from Hassocks.  I didn't mind the drive, for the sole reason that the English countryside is gorgeous.  I must say, I do have a weakness for blue skies, rolling hills, and forests, and I was not disappointed.  When we did arrive at Rye, we strolled around the shops, taking in the sights and enjoying our time together, for I was set to leave the following morning.  And with Marion, James, and Katie to talk to (and be the victim of pranks for), it was another peaceful afternoon for yours truly.  

I wanted some rye bread.

Man, people really do pay an arm and a leg at these antique shops.  I'm so funny.

After briefly chatting with my mother via Skype (so she could see everyone) and dinner out with Barbara and the rest of the family at Friar's Oak, I was forced to say goodbye really...really early the next morning to people who have made an impact on my life in such a short amount of time.  As Great Aunt Barbara said to me before she left for the night, "I'll never forget you."

This trip was easily one of the best I've taken during my Fulbright tenure.  It's hard to believe that I've met the people I have during this time, and it's even harder to realize that I have less than a month here.  And though I do look forward to seeing everyone again back in the States, there are so many things that I will miss here...but, of course, that is for another post.

'Til then, duckies.

Unterwegs...Wieder

Hello, everyone!

I'm going to England tomorrow!

...Providing that I don't miss my flight!

Actually, this last bit shouldn't be a problem.  The main source of anxiety lies in the fact that my flight leaves Hamburg at 10:20 in the morning (ideally; this is Easy Jet, people, and we all know the lack of punctuality that is invisibly stated in its terms and conditions).  This is actually quite a bit later than Monday's flight, which leaves around 7:00 in the morning.  Celle is one hour away from the Hamburg Hautpbahnhof by IC train, and I'll have to tack on about twenty-five more minutes to get to the airport by S-Bahn.  If I take the 7:15 train, then I should be fine.

But, though I gripe and whine about the flight times, it's completely worth it.  I get to see my relatives again.

Those of you who read my rather lengthy update about the last time I was in England know how much I'm looking forward to seeing everyone again, one last time before I head back to the States at the end of June.  And I'm very glad that I am going to see my relatives twice, instead of a one-time gig, and this time will be special because I hope to see Marion perform in The Magic Flute.  To see her perform will certainly be a treat (and will be recorded faithfully on this blog sometime within the next month or three--see how on top of things I've become).

And now that I have their address, the nice, meek people at customs will not try to detain me for being a rather short terrorist.  Notice I typed "try."

Hmm.  You know, let's do a "normal" blog post.  Some little tidbits about my life...


I Wanna be a Real Substitute

A few weeks ago, my coworker Elisabeth told me that she would be a bit late to class the following day because of a doctor's appointment and asked me to head the class on my own for five to ten minutes.  I consented because 1. it's 2c, a good class and 2. I've begun the class without her several times before.  However, I had a nagging voice in my head; there is always potential for unplanned occurrences at my school, and I knew that I should come prepared for an entire lesson, if Elisabeth couldn't make it to the class at all.  Being the lazy, eh-I'll-improvise-the-whole-thing person that I am, I briefly calculated what I could do in such a circumstance and probably took a nap after work.  I'm a fascinating person, don't 'cha know.

Wednesday morning rolled around, and I made my way to 2c after the second bell had rung.  I started the class with the standard "hey-it's-really-early,-so-let's-sing-a-song" routine, singing "Spring is Coming," or something like that.  (Spring, by the way, has yet to come in Germany, so this is kind of an unintentionally cruel joke on everyone involved.)  I went over the different flowers that we had been learning, adding a bit of repetition with colors, etc.  Ten minutes rolled by, and, of course, there was no Elisabeth.

My intuition and foresight are awesome.  My ability to not take action completely is, too, surprisingly enough.

What I mean to say is that even though I only briefly considered a backup plan, what I did plan worked.  The couple of weeks before, when I was serving as the main substitute for Suzana's classes, I had used the story, We Are Going on a Bear Hunt, for the lessons in 4a, which had gone swimmingly.  In fact, as a surprise, I had assigned the kids parts and had them draw their scenarios--grass, river, mud, snowstorm, and cave--for when we recited the entire story from memory to Suzana upon her return.  But since I knew that this activity would be far too much for second grade English, I merely taught the kids in 2c the story, which goes like this:

We are going on a bear hunt.
We are not afraid!
We have got a gun
And a sharp knife, too.  Uhh!

Shh!  What's that?
Oh, grass...  Long, wavy grass...
We can't go over it;
We can't go under it.
We must go through it!

(Swishy, swashy...)

Same thing with river, etc., until we come across the bear in the cave, and then we go through the story backwards to get back to the house.

You can imagine how this would be a little difficult, yet fun.  In the second grade, I was the one to be doing the translating, so when I got to the sharp knife bit...

Sarah:  Oh, das ist gefaehrlich!  Ich hab' Angst. 

Oh, Kinder.

Anyway, the kids rather enjoyed the impromptu lesson, and we were able to go through the story twice, with stops every now and then to make sure that the kids understood what they were actually saying.  And kids always like it when they're included in a story, so breaking them up into groups during the second try was fun for them (and when I made Indro the bear).  So, all in all, it was a successful lesson on my part.  And one of the neatest aspects?  I did this all by myself, without another teacher in the room.  Technically, we're not allowed to do that, but I don't care.  The kids were well-behaved for me; my German instructions weren't perfect, but they were understood; and there was laughter.  That, my friends, makes for a decent lesson.


Schlechtes Wetter and the Lessons It Brings

Another teaching story occurred today, oddly enough.  I hadn't actually prepared a lesson in awhile (I think since The Mitten), and I had been feeling a little guilty because of it...and the fact that I was once again asking for a couple of days off in order to travel.  Honestly, I haven't asked for many days off outside of sick days, but it's still lame because I miss some of the classes and therefore don't participate as much.  So, I suggested to my boss that I do a lesson based on the very first bit of Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat, over the rainy weather.  She enthusiastically consented, and we set about, via email exchange, what activity we were to have the students in 2a do.  It ended up being a house whose doors would open up to the kids looking out the window, which the students were to paste inside.  The challenge, though, lay in the fact that the children also had to arrange the rhyme in the right order.


Okay, so it's not really a challenge.  But the kids liked it.  And considering the fact that it was a rainy, cold, and miserable day, it really was the perfect setting for such a lesson.

And I am really impressed with how rapidly Emily is picking up English.  She and Dylan are my little go-to people for translation.

It always makes me feel accomplished when I do command my own lesson, even when the teacher is in the classroom.  I'm actively contributing to the class, and I believe that it also lets my coworkers know that I'm not just filling up space in the room.  And though I did lose a connection with some classes when Karolin inherited them (I say "inherited" because she had to take over some classes for her Refendarin requirements, which is good), I maintain a very steady relationship with the students because I'm an active part of their English lessons.  And they really like it.  In retrospect, I probably could have done some things a little better, at least at the first of the school year.  However, it's all part of the learning process, and I'm quite impressed with myself that I didn't make any huge blunders all throughout.  In fact, I have done amazingly well.  Way to go, me.


So, I hope that will tide things over while I am in England.  Though I will have my computer with me throughout the trip, I'll be using it mainly for email and reading purposes.  Who knows when I'll update about this future trip, as I haven't even discussed Madrid, Barcelona, and Baden-Wurttemberg from Osterferien?  I, er, need to get on that, stat.  But, in the meantime, here; have a normal blog post.

Osterferien, Part II: Back in the U.K.

I lied; it's been a little more than half an hour.

Also, I wish I could locate my list of events, as that would really help me with this next leg of the journey. There's so much about which to write of England and my relatives, and I wish I had the list to help me make sense of all of it. Lists are a vague relic of my undergrad years, when I used to be kind of psycho-organized, even if I didn't have a planner. I find it amusing that I made the list in order to be organized, and I now can't find it.

Okay! So, we left off with the airport meeting of my relatives and the traveling Cellers, yes? Yes. As aforementioned, it was quite a relief to see Marion and James, and to see them happy that we had arrived. After expressing surprise that we had taken only one carry-on each--

--ah, yes. I had forgotten to mention that earlier. I only took one carry-on with me for the entire trip.

--we then drove back to Hassocks to Marion and James's house. I found this quite relaxing and entertaining (even though you Brits drive on the wrong side of the road, James), and it was nice to chat with Marion and James on the way. Upon entering the house, I was almost tackled by Skye, the family's large, fluffy, absolutely beautiful rescue dog. She reminded me so much of Poppet that I knew how to deal with her over-excited behavior, and she and I got along splendidly during our stay. It turned out that we were staying in Matthew's (their son's) bedroom, and he would be staying at Great Aunt Barbara's flat throughout the next few days.

Great Aunt Barbara features prominently in this story, but I shall have to save her introduction until a bit later in this post. Whoo, anticipation, whoo.

The next day, after breakfasting and having proper English tea (the most wonderful thing in the history of ever), Marion, James, Maryle, and I were on our way to London, which is roughly an hour away from Hassocks. The day was filled to the brim, and the highlights of the trip included the Globe Theatre, which sadly was off-season, and the Victoria and Albert museum. We actually took a guided tour through the Globe, as Marion and James had coupons that made entry relatively free. Our tour guide was an older woman with long, grey hair and a very "actorly" air about her. As another group entered the Globe, she whispered, "Possession's nine-tenth! Come on!" and rushed to the stage. My little Shakespearean heart was all a-flutter while touring the theatre, and I was a happy, parvo-less puppy (refer to the first post of the day).

"And though she be but little, she is fierce." -Will Shakez, my homie

I also discovered this wonderful gem at the V&A museum:

FIRST FOLIO. FIRST. FOLIO.

You know, this was my second time in London (the first being back in 2003), and when I returned this second time, it felt like nothing had changed. I remembered certain areas, and it was refreshing to spot St. Paul's in the distance. I very much like London, but I was to discover that, no, it's not my favorite place in England (nor does it deserve to be). That title belongs to another place, which will be explained later (whoo, anticipation, whoo). After a very long day in the city, we trudged back to Hassocks for fish 'n chips and a restful evening with the rest of the family (including Katie and Mat).

It's hard to tell if the next day or the day after that was my favorite of the entire trip, and I may have to give in and say that both of them were. The next morning, everyone got ready to visit Great Aunt Barbara before heading off to Brighton for the day. Now, this was the part that I was really looking forward to, and allow me to explain why:

Great Aunt Barbara is my late grandmother Olive's sister. She is a full ten years younger than Grandma and remained in England when Grandma moved to the States to marry my grandfather, whom she had met while he was serving as an Army war photographer in London. Grandma passed away two years ago in Florida, and ever since then I had been wanting some form of closure to the parts of Grandma's history that I didn't know. When I knew for certain that I would be visiting my relatives in England this year, I had an increasing hope that meeting Great Aunt Barbara would help close the door on some things, even if nothing was seriously in need to clarification. Well, I'm happy to say that I did get closure, and much more.

Yup, she's pretty awesome.

Needless to say, I was a little apprehensive about meeting her. I knew that everything would be fine and that she would be a nice woman, but I didn't realize just how much she would remind me of Grandma, particularly since they had spent most of their lives living so far away from each other. Though we only chatted briefly on Saturday before the rest of us headed out to Brighton, I did notice mannerisms and bits of speech that achingly reminded me of Grandma. And though I was told that she was quite shy, which was the case, Great Aunt Barbara made me feel welcome and promptly told me things that she knew I was curious about. We managed to talk a lot more when I visited her Sunday (Marion had very considerately planned for me a solitary visit, as she had rehearsal and Maryle wanted to go back to London), and it was...well, it was great. Not only did I learn more facts about Grandma, but I also learned quite a bit about Barbara herself, along with her late husband, John, and their children. And though I know this post is going to be "gasp-I-need-air" long, I want to narrate one or two stories that she told me.

I had always been curious about how exactly Grandma and Grandpa met. I had known that Grandma had been part of the lookout during the Blitz and that both of them lived in London at that time. What I didn't know was their first meeting. Turns out, Grandma had been on a train to northern England to visit either her sister-in-law (Grandma's first husband had been killed in the war, though no one found his plane or his body) or her boyfriend, and she couldn't find a seat because the Army soldiers had occupied the train car. Grandpa, who noticed, told her that she could sit on his bag, which sparked a conversation and an eventual date--and things just went from there. But, Barbara had other little gems to share with me: how she always got up early to help with breakfast, though Grandma would always sleep through it; how Grandpa would bring them all sorts of goodies; and how Grandpa was the only person to call Barbara "Babs." Things like this--supposedly "everyday" things--fascinate me.

But what I found so interesting about Barbara, other than her personality in her own right, was the fact that she told me how lonely she felt when Grandma moved away to the States--how she had viewed Grandma as someone who took care of her, particularly considering the age difference. Barbara was simply left alone, particularly when my great-grandmother also moved to the U.S., but she never implied or looked like she was resentful of this fact. Grandma and Barbara kept in touch and seemed to maintain a good relationship when all was said and done, but it was interesting, to me, to see how matter-of-fact Barbara seemed while talking about it. Barbara went on with her life, as did Grandma, and the two of them were successful in their own right because of it. I never knew some of the things that Barbara told me about herself, and I'm incredibly glad that I do now. Though she may not think so, she, along with the rest of that family, is a fascinating person.

I know this overlaps, but let's go back to Saturday. After our visit with Great Aunt Barbara, the family, Maryle, and I traveled to Brighton, which is only five minutes away by train. Maryle and I hadn't planned on going to Brighton during our stay, but as Marion and James suggested that we take a day trip there, we readily consented. And, I'm glad we did. Brighton is certainly an "artsy" town, as many art students live there and attend the university. In this vein, it reminded me a bit of Savannah, GA, but Brighton makes its own name by displaying its offbeat novelty shops, the great Pavilion, and its rocky beach. We spent the day browsing through the shops, spending lots of time talking, walking along the beach, being goofy, and stepping into a shop for hot chocolate and coffee when the weather took a nasty turn.

Yes, we're definitely related.

When we returned home, Maryle and I kept Marion company (er, distracted her) while she made dinner, playing random opera videos from YouTube and just talking about opera. Marion is an opera singer, and it was really quite neat talking to her about the different operas she's been in (Susanna in Marriage of Figaro, I kid you not). And dinner with the family was a treat, as Mat and Katie opened up a bit more, displaying their awesomeness, and just having a nice time with people I care about.

Sunday was a relaxing day, as Maryle headed off to London by herself, and Marion, the kids, and I went back to Brighton for some more shopping. As we were waiting for Mat back at the car, an elderly man struck up a brief conversation with me, and I had forgotten how nice it really is to have conversations like that (as not many Germans do this). Afterward, Marion dropped me off at Barbara's, and after a few hours chatting with her, all of us reunited for an evening at Devil's Dike, located on the Downs. I had a real Sunday lamb roast, which was delicious. Seriously, I do believe it was the best dish of the trip. A lovely end to a great day.

Monday saw the end of our stay in England, as our plane to Lisbon took off around 1:00 in the afternoon. But, that's not to say that we didn't do anything before then. I actually got my hair trimmed in Hassocks (Oh, happy day!) by a junior named Barnaby, and I must say that Barnaby did a good job. Afterward, we said a quick goodbye to Great Aunt Barbara, which was sad, as I wanted to spend more time with her, along with the rest of the family. But, Marion and James had more things planned; we went to Clayton Church, a small, ancient church where my Great Uncle John had been buried, and we went atop the Downs to get a good view of what was below. I will tell you a fact: if I were to spend every day of the rest of my life walking the Downs, I would be content. It is my favorite place in England.

It is that beautiful.

Another shot because IT IS THAT BEAUTIFUL.

After the Downs, we did have to pack up and leave. It was a tearful goodbye, to be honest, because I simply wasn't ready to leave this family and their wonderful hospitality. I had felt so at ease and at home in such a short amount of time, and I hadn't really felt that way before. Maybe it was because I was so excited to meet everyone, but what really surprised me is how everyone lived up to--and exceeded--my expectations. I had gone into the trip thinking that they were going to be awesome, and I came out of it with my mind blown at just how awesome they were. So, to Marion, James, Mat, Katie, Skye, and Great Aunt Barbara: Thank you for making me feel like a part of the family. Maryle and I had a wonderful time.

...Okay, see why I've been delaying updating?! Look at everything that I have to recount! Blargh, grawr, and other mean sounds. Next up: Lisbon.

Quickie

Hi, everyone. I'm currently comfortably situated in Lisbon, updating briefly before heading off to bed. My time in Hassocks, England was wonderful, and I hope to come back before my Fulbright tenure is up. I will update about it soon, along with my time in Lovely Lisbon (which has been a treat for the eyes and the soul). I just want to let everyone know that I'm alive and safe, and I promise many fun stories to tell.

See you soon, duckies.