Thursday, July 31, 2014

Goodbye, Hannah!

With very little pomp and circumstance but a great deal of find farewell and adieu...off pops Miss Hannah to the airport to fly away from me. 

Given that she's going to Chicago to stay with her baby nephew, she is perhaps not really all that sad about this state of affairs.

In any case, I waved frantically at her bus as she placed her hand mournfully on the window glass for one last moment. It was all very fake-traumatic.


And with that, my flat is back to a lonely 2 people. I've got Mary till Monday!

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Going to the Games

I had a very British day.

I had train troubles whilst traveling but made it to Glasgow. 

I then proceeded to watch Wales, England, and Scotland all lose their various rugby 7's games. I do now know the majority of rugby's rules, though! Or at least the basic play.




Mary and I wandered from the stadium to Glasgow's Science Discovery Centre for lunch. Totally adorable. On the way, we stumbled into a rally for the Yes Campaign (pro-Scottish independence). The rally was also very pro-Palestinian. Given that Mary had an English flag wrapped around her from the rugby game, we didn't linger too long. 



After free whiskey samples near the Games Grounds, the evening's entertainment included the England v. South African and Northern Ireland v. New Zealand netball games. I learned a great deal - including the fact that I apparently enjoy netball. I also really enjoy watching sports when the teams are evenly matched so things are ethnically interesting - and in an atmosphere of non-mob mentality and extreme sportsmanship (e.g., the whole stadium applauded any time either team scored. It was very refreshing). 



We were also joined in our block of seats by Prince Edward and his family.

All in all, a rather lovely day. :)

Friday, July 25, 2014

Another visitor!

I have a flatmate for the next two weeks! Mary, the primary Marshall Scholarship staffer, is taking annual leave to volunteer at the 2014 Commonwealth Games, which kicked off Wednesday evening in Glasgow. Mary is staying with me and commuting in. 
Sunday, she's scored me tickets to rugby and netball matches. Let's see what these two British sports are all about, eh?

Monday, July 21, 2014

Back in the swing of things

Hello and welcome back to Edinburgh. 
Hannah's brother came over to the UK and they are touring the Highlands. I went to church on Sunday, watched some telly, and had a conference call. I'm working every day this week and next in the Open Access office at the uni to make up for some of the time I was gone and help them in their final push, as the project I was hired for is ending. 
And life is in all more or less back to normal. So now that life is back to normal, I really should start work on that blasted dissertation...

Friday, July 18, 2014

There's no place like...

...home

Hannah and I are safely back in Edinburgh, and I've just finished a full day back in the office for the first time in some six weeks.

Edinburgh is home...but it's looking less and less like my beloved, quiet city. Because it's Festival time! Tents, trucks, rides, stadiums, people...everything is everywhere. And it's just going to get worse. Or better, of course, depending on your point of view. ;)

Hello again, you beautiful Scottish capital. It's good to be back.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

The Burn

A group of Marshall Scholars, along with some plus ones - including Hannah - are spending Monday through Thursday of this week at the Burn, a country manor house in the east of Scotland near Montrose and Dundee. We trained up from London on Monday and, happily, had an uneventful journey - last year, the train got delayed by some three hours.

Tuesday we explored the gloriously ruined Dunnottar Castle, had lunch in a harbor town, and frolicked on the beach of a nature reserve.

Wednesday morning was our distillery tour - anyone for breakfast whiskey?

We are now unscheduled for the duration of our stay until the 2:40pm bus to the Rail Station. Cue the cricket championship!






 Beware of Marshall Scholars playing Trivial Pursuit.



Don't you play croquet in the rain with a designated brolly-holder?

 And if you think Trivial Pursuit is dangerous...just bring out the building blocks.


Sunday, July 13, 2014

13 Miles

One of several pieces I wrote while in Israel last week...
Writing these was helpful to me as I processed and dealt with a lot of emotions. I hope they are read in that spirit - one of agony for everyone hurt by conflict, regardless of who they are or where they're from. Comments and suggestions welcome, but please be respectful and loving when posting. 



13 miles.
On Wednesday 9 July, there were only 13 miles between me and someone I love very much and was hoping to see.
I’ve never actually met her in person. Just hours and hours of Skype and Google+ conversations.
Marah and I met via Dorm Room Diplomacy, a programme bringing together undergraduates through videoconferencing to discuss culture and politics. DRD is meant to show people around the world the faces and personalities behind reductionist stereotypes displayed by the media and mainstream political discourse. And it works – because Marah and I have become incredibly close friends through our conversations, and have kept in touch long after the formal sessions were over.
I flew into Tel Aviv on Friday. I went to Jerusalem to see friends for a few days. Wa’ad, another friend met through Marah and Dorm Room Diplomacy, came into the Old City to tour around with us. And then I was going to go into Ramallah to meet Marah, and travel with her to Nablus, where her mother lives. We were going to celebrate iftar, the feast that marks the end of the fasting day during Ramadan. I was going to see the gorgeous mountains surrounding her home.
But 13 miles.
13 miles between West Jerusalem where I was staying and Ramallah where Marah was waiting for me.
In the United States, 13 miles means a twenty-minute drive. In the United Kingdom, 13 miles means a five-pound train ride.
In Israel and Palestine, that 13 miles means a checkpoint and multiple neighbourhoods in conflict with each other. It means going outside when you heard rockets and sirens twelve hours ago. It means potential harassment by IDF soldiers asking your business and Arabs assuming you’re Jewish. It means worrying your friends and your family while you’re on the road and out of touch.
I didn’t meet Marah that week. I had a younger American friend with me who wasn’t comfortable, and I cared too much for her safety and sanity to go. But I cried that day. I cried with frustration that I couldn’t see Marah. I cried for the fact that her sweet Mama, who was looking forward to guests and preparing an even greater feast than usual, wouldn’t get to host those guests.
But most of all, I cried for the people for whom this isn’t a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Those 13 miles interfered with my plans once. And it ticked me off. But those – and other – 13 miles do much worse to many others.
I cried for the mothers whose children are across barriers they can’t easily reach.
I cried for the lovers who suddenly find themselves on opposite sides of a wall, with no guarantees about the next time they’ll be able to hold each other.
I cried for the girls who can no longer go to school safely every day.
13 miles. So innocuous, at first glance. And yet so devastating.
13 miles.
Marah, I’ll be back soon. And next time, Inshallah, those 13 miles won’t mean anything more than 13 miles means anywhere else.