Croeso i Gaerdydd! Welcome to Cardiff!

Yes, Croeso i Gaerdydd means "Welcome to Cardiff" in Welsh.  I have very effectively translated this using the banner on the Cardiff home page... *ahem*

Okay, I know this is WEEKS past due, but in my defense I had three enormous essays to write, so it was necessary.

Anyway!  My first proper trip since I've been here was to Cardiff.  It was just luck really, since my roommate, Rob, was taking his girlfriend to see the university there, so one of my other roommates, Jeremy, and I tagged along.

The plan was to go to the Doctor Who Experience, spend a few hours there, get something to eat, and then find our way over to an American candy store I had heard of.  From there on out, it was just going to be sort of hanging around, seeing whatever there was to see, etc.

Here's what actually happened:  We went to Doctor Who, which was great!  It began with a campy, silly little video, and then you walk through the Tardis, meet some Daleks, and end up in a small museum which eventually spits you out into the gift store.  It was fairly quiet, just families and kids.  It was fun, though definitely more family oriented than I had expected.  Aaaand it was also only an hour or so tops before we were done.

So we went and grabbed a bite to eat at a little french place where I payed for a bowl of mushroom soup with an arm, a leg, and my first born child, and then we made our way to the candy store.

This was something I had been seriously looking forward to: reeses, lucky charms, hersheys, all the terrible junk food I miss.  Well, needless to say it was crap.  It had the distinct feeling of a place that is seldom visited, they were asking £9 for a box of Lucky charms, and aside from Hersheys, the candy they had is all available here.  No reeses, either.  Just twix, m&ms, starbursts, and so on.  Not only are they pretty much all available here, but I can walk down to the Spar around the corner and pick up a Twix bar for 65p, and they were asking £2 at this candy store.  I left annoyed and without candy.

But here's the problem:  it was pobably about one pm at this point.  Rob and Aggie wouldn't be done until 5pm at the earliest.  Jeremy had already been to cardiff, so he led me to a museum nearby.  We were going to go to a wetland preservation area, but then... Wales, rain, wet, cold, indoor museums suddenly start to sound very nice.

We got about halfway to the museum when we decided to check out a few shops and arcade areas, where we ended up spending too much money.  I found a shop that sells unique liquors by the ml and bought 750ml of Rose Liqueur for £7.50.  I also got a bunch of postcards which I'll be sending out over the next month or so to everyone I promised postcards to!

After the arcades, Jeremy wanted to go to Cardiff Castle to buy a tshirt for his brother.  Since it cost £14 to actually go into the castle, I figured I'd settle for seeing it from the outside and the giftshop.  Of course, once we were inside, I realized how badly I needed to see it.  It was staggering.  Enormous, majestic, beautiful, the embodiment of history and age.   I opted out of the tour, so it was only £11 entry, which seemed way more affordable than £14 for some reason.

We went first to the inner castle, the parts we were allowed to see, anyway, and which were furnished to look like they would have then.  We were allowed to take photos, but not with flash and since it was quite dark, none of the photos were coming out.  So naturally, I used my little point-and-shoot camera to take videos of everything, which I have compiled into a lovely bit of loveliness for you:

It was really just a wonderful day and I will never forget it.  After leaving the castle, we met up with Rob and Aggie again, who unfortunately were unable to go to the university.  I avoided talking about how awesome my day was, because they seemed pretty put out by their somewhat less exciting day of adventuring.  I suppose for them it was about as interesting as going to Sacramento for a day would be for me.  For me and Jeremy, however, it was fascinating, instructive, and awesome.

Some other photos from the day:

Doctor Who Experience!

 View from the Tardis

Memorial statue that was just outrageously amazing

Important sort of... red brick building that I can't remember why is important....

It's Jeremy!  He's a history major, so the red brick building was obviously somehow historically significant....

Cardiff Castle again!

View from the Keep.  This photo doesn't do it justice... the view was amazing.

Giant chimney!

 Seriously, look how huge this was!

 Did I mention there was a trebuchet?

Selfie time!

Bonfire Night!

So last night was bonfire night.  I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't hordes of people swarming to the cricket stadium near my house, gathering on the beach, lighting small bonfires, and watching a truly spectacular fireworks show.

For starters, one of my roommates thought that it might not be as big here as some other places, since we are in Wales.  Another of my roommates was talking about joining a bonfire put on by the club he's part of.  But most importantly, leading up to, say, the fourth of July, it is all anyone can talk about.  "Do you have plans for the fourth?" "We're going here for the fourth." "We're bbqing/picnicking/tailgating/camping for the fourth."  Here, I maybe heard two or three people in total mention it at all.  Thus, I had no idea that the cricket ground was putting on this huge fireworks show.

Walking home from class at six I immediately noticed something was going on.  Traffic was backed up halfway down Bryn Road and all the way along the Mumbles road, so that I had to sort of leapfrog across the street.  I heard music playing from the field, and as I passed the bowling green, I realized that they had opened the parking lot to members for something.  I realized it probably had to do with bonfire night, but I figured it was just for members of the bowling club- perhaps they were going to have their own bonfire in the parking lot.

Then further along the road, a police officer was standing beside a guardrail blocking traffic to the rest of Bryn Road, and by extension, the cricket ground.  It was then that I realized what was happening.  I passed the ticket office and there was a line of people trying to pay for entry.  A small group of people had already gathered inside, and groups of people were setting up outside with lawn chairs, blankets, and scarves.

After dinner, all of my roommates were talking about going out to the beach to wander and see what was happening.  We left the dishes, bundled up, and went out.  The beach was covered- and I mean covered in people.  We are talking more packed than a public park offering a free firework show on the fourth in the states.  Almost immediately open arrival, or maybe before we arrived, I can't quite remember, the fireworks show began.  It was decently long and pretty spectacular.  There was music, but we couldn't hear very well.  So instead we watched and had fun and I explained to my roommates that thanksgiving has absolutely nothing to do with America's independence from the british monarchy, which apparently is something that at least one of them thought.

When the show was over, we turned to the beach and wandered.  Everywhere people were setting off bottle rockets and roman candles and grouped around beach fires.  The air was full of smoke and the smell of cordite.  People were laughing and cheering and setting off fireworks or writing in the air with sparklers.  It was amazing...

fair warning- I swear right at the beginning, so maybe don't watch this with the audio up high while in a library or something...

Update: This video took me a million years to figure out how to get up here, since apparently Murphy decided to cite his law to mess things up.  Of six videos taken last night, only this one was remotely worth posting, and it of course was the one video that was also broken.  Enjoy!

On Cellular Telecommunication Devices

Loo.  Biscuit.  Slip-road.  Bin.  Liner.  Lamp.  Trousers.  Full Stop.  Inverted Commas.  There's a whole slew of words that change between American English and British English.  I'm trying my hardest to learn the differences and cater to British English.  When someone holds a door open for me, I say "cheers" and when I hold a door open for someone else, and they say cheers, I say "ta."  I call "compost" "food scraps" and paper recycling "card."  Electrical outlets are "plug sockets" and after we have dinner, someone does the "washing up."

But the one thing I will not change, is that it is called a flipping cell phone.  Here, everyone else calls it a "mobile" or mostly just "phone."  I can deal with "phone."  "Phone" I can manage.  Slowly, with practice.  But whenever I forget my phone upstairs or at home, I inevitably say, "Oh shoot, my cell phone."  It's driving my roommate insane.  Every time I say it, Rob gets annoyed and corrects me.  I have informed him, to seemingly no avail, that I will make almost no effort to stop calling it a cell.

When I first arrived, I had a bit of a struggle with the phone situation, mostly because I was so sick upon arriving.  I didn't even really bother until the beginning of my second week, when I went to a shop called "Phones 4 U" and bought a fairly cheap, but supposedly still good Samsung Y.  The nice thing about this store is that they sell their phones unlocked, so you can put any sim card in.  Since I was planning on getting giffgaff, with which I can load a £12 plan giving me unlimited texts and data, and 250 UK minutes, this was the best option I had.  I spoke with the salesman for a bit, and settled on the samsung while my roommate ordered my sim.  It was going to be a few days, which was fine since you have to pay for a £10 top up (read: its a prepaid phone, you have to load it a bit when you buy it) when you buy an unlocked phone anyway.

Great.  I was happy.  I chatted a bit with the few friends I had already made, and burned through my £10 in the blink of an eye.

Then my GiffGaff sim arrived.  And thus began the drama.

In order to activate my sim, I needed a credit card with a UK postal code.  I tried changing my address on my credit card to my address here, but my credit card needs an address in the US.  I was still sick, so I sat on my hands and waited until Monday to open a bank account.

Monday rolled around, I opened the account, and the woman told me it would be about 3 business days until I would receive my debit card.  Great.  I tried topping up again with the first sim card, same problem.  I called them, to explain, figuring that if I got through to a sales clerk, they would be able to manually enter the information.  Except, in the UK, automated systems don't recognize "Moreno" as a surname.

Automated phone system: "Did you mean "Reynolds?"
Me; "No, I meant "Moreno"
Automated phone system: "We're sorry, we didn't catch that.  Just your surname, for example, 'Smith."
Me: "Moreno."
Automated phone system: "Did you mean 'Morris?"
Me: "No, I meant OPERATOR."

Which then led me to the problem that there were no minutes left on my phone, and I couldn't actually speak to an operator without minutes.

So I just waited, using the internet at my house and at cafes to check whatsapp and facebook until my Debit card arrived.  Finally, I loaded my sim card, figured everything out, and had an operating phone.  Sort of.

See, here's the thing that the salesman didn't tell me.  The Galaxy Y is a fine phone if you're texting and calling.  Not so great if you want multiple apps. Apparently, he didn't feel the need to tell me this, despite the fact that I had said specifically that I needed one I could run whatsapp on.  After a single day of using the phone with my new sim, it began having issues.  The memory card was full.  Facebook was seriously slowing it down.  Nothing was working.  I gave up, pulled the sim out, popped out the micro sim, and am now using my unlocked American Iphone.

Now to convince the phone people to refund or exchange my phone... this could be fun.

On School, Lectures, and Roommates

So this “term,” I'm taking three classes, which is a bit odd for several reasons.  Firstly, I have never taken fewer than four classes, at times even as many as six.  Secondly, all of my roommates are taking at least five, and those are classes that meet several times a week, giving them around eighteen hours of instruction per week.  I have eight hours of instruction per week.  Its nice, since the coursework will in general be a bit more difficult once exam time rolls around, but annoying because it means I have a lot of spare time and not a lot to do just yet.

Because of this, I have joined a two societies, the film society and the English society, though unfortunately they both seem to meet on Tuesdays at the same time, so we’ll see how long the film society manages to keep me. 

Anyway, I was talking about classes.  I'm enrolled, or “enroled” as they spell it here in Wales, in Arthurian Adaptations, Shakespeare and the Idea of Comedy, and Debating texts: Theory in Literature. 

Arthurian adaptations is the only class on that list that I requested, and it also happens to be the only class that I am not sure about.  The teacher is willing to cater to the classes requests as to what part of Arthur we look at, so it appears we will mostly be looking at origins which pertain to Welsh characteristics, the feminine, and supernatural aspects of Arthur legends.  The problem is, he doesn’t write lectures ahead of time, so he just sort of talks about what he knows, ad nauseum, while we frantically try to take notes that will later make sense to us. 

Shakespeare and the Idea of Comedy is supposedly about the origins of comedy and how they pertain to Shakespeare, but right now it seems to be mostly about several of Shakespeare’s plays. 

Debating texts is both the most difficult and possibly the most interesting.  We are reading three books for it, Hard Times by Charles Dickens, Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Wolfe, and (what I'm most excited for) Beloved by Toni Morrison.  Then, we have three sets of three lectures for each book.  Three lectures on Realism, three on Sociolinguistics (they say language, but its sociolinguistics, which is now the bane of my existence), and three on “Subjectivity” or the idea of selfhood and identity.  So far we have finished the linguistics lectures for Hard Times, and this week we will be looking at the Subjectivity in it.  Which basically means by the end of the week I need to have read all of Viriginia Wolfe.  Goody. 

In general, I'm happy with my lectures.  They’re between 50 minutes and two hours, depending on the class.  Mostly they are in the morning, which is great because it means I get up and actually use the day, although so far I’ve been pretty lazy.  This last week I finally dragged myself to the shops to buy things for my room, to make it seem a little more homey. 

But here’s the weirdest part about classes here: people dress up for them.  And I mean it- they really dress up.  They dress nicer for classes than I would for an evening out.  After attending Chico for a year, this is not boding well for my wallet.  I'm used to rolling out of bed, pulling on a tank top or a tshirt, a hoody sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans, but here, everyone goes all out.  Hair, makeup, skinny jeans, heels, sweater (or jumper), scarf, nice jacket.  The problem is, I own nothing but jeans and tank tops, and I don’t own any skinny jeans. 

So after a week of dealing with people giving my boot cut jeans dirty looks, I gave up and bought three pairs of skinny jeans, two cardigans, a few colored undershirts to wear beneath said cardigans, and a few nicer tops.  I also bought a pair of black ballet flats, a pair of heeled boots, a pair of grey platform heels, two necklaces, and two scarves.  The game is to now keep my eyes peeled for more tops, and I think I need one more jacket, something lighter than my coat, but heavier than my cardigans.  I think one more green or grey scarf and I will be happy.  Unfortunately, all this money spending means I have to skip my first excursion, so I don’t get to go see the wilds of Wales until next month. 

You're probably wondering how I'm doing everything while I'm over here.  Well, mostly I am on foot, which is why my legs feel like overcooked spaghetti noodles.  That’s what happens when you're breaking in three pairs of heels at the same time.  My toes are probably going to fall off soon.  But I’ve also had a lot of help from my roommates.

So here’s a bit about my house.  It’s three floors, six bedrooms, two bathrooms, with a tiny little living room and a tiny little kitchen and a truly disgusting backyard.  We’re fifteen minutes from the school on foot, a bit more than that to the city centre, and three minutes from the beach.  We have a washing machine, but no dryer and no dishwasher.  We take turns making dinner, so you really only need to worry about what you're making once or twice a week.  There are six of us living here as of last Thursday: Rob, Sasha (read as “Sash-uh” rather than “Saw-sha”), Ross, Jeremy, and Osa (the only other girl in the house).  Aside from Jeremy, who is also an exchange student, from Canada instead of the US, everyone is English.  I find it both fascinating and hysterical that during my study abroad year in Wales, I am living entirely with people who are NOT Welsh. 

We’re all pretty supportive of each other.  We do shopping together, they all help each other with homework since they are all engineering students, and we all cater to each others culinary needs.  There’s not really a lot to say about them, other than the fact that they keep their jam in the cupboard rather than the fridge, which is slowly driving me to insanity.  I’ve bought my own jam and put it in the fridge and threatened the lives of anyone who tries to remove it.  I am also quite protective of my Hobnobs, which are crumbly biscuits (read: cookies) covered in chocolate, which one dips in tea and eats until they are sick.  They are delicious, I am addicted, it is a problem.  I may need help. 

Other than that, things are going quite well.  I’ll be posting periodically from now on, but for the most part, I'm going to be posting after exciting trips and adventures.  The day to day minutae may get a bit boring, but I’ll try to find interesting things to tell you about.  In the meantime, if you have questions or want to know about something specific, feel free to put it in the comments!  I’ll try to answer as in depth as possible.  Pictures of London to come soon!