Fair is foul and foul is fair...

When I think of Scotland (or Scots), I think Macbeth, So I Married an Axe Murderer, and Bagpipes.  My week in Edinburgh has included two of those three.

Leaving Stratford was bitter sweet, as Linhill became a little home for us abroad.  Diana, one of the owners was the sweetest lady ever, and she used "love" as her term of endearment or casual nickname.  "Tea or coffee, love?"  "How was the play tonight, love?"  "You simply blew some fuses and overloaded the internet multiple times, loves."  The departure was exciting, though, as it meant we were headed for the world's largest arts festival.

We had a mini/almost fiasco with our transportation via train, but with some time, patience, and a few "those are our seats", we all managed to settle in for the long ride.  Edinburgh itself is a beautiful and interesting city.  Walking along Princes Street, to one side is shop fronts (many american stores) in the bottom floors of old three story buildings, and to the other is a scenic view of castles, cathedrals, and other generally gothic/revival style buildings.  Between the two views is a beautifully maintained park, green as can be from all the rain.

We've seen a variety of shows:  an adaptation of Oedipus at Colonus done in Black, southern baptist, gospel singing; an "urban" portrayal of Hamlet by high school aged students from Oakland; a comedic playing of Macbeth; a spin off A Midsummer Night's Dream by a soulful voice and dance troupe; an intensification of the character Laura from The Glass Menagerie; a commentary about the sex slave industry in England; etc.  Also, our classes attended two readings by famous authors that we're reading for our courses, Roddy Doyle and Paul Muldoon.  They signed our books after the interview and reading.

There's literally too much to post about.  I have a personal record of my days, but I don't want to get into too many little details because we pack so much adventure, learning, eating, walking, laughing, and praying into one single day.  I have a lot to still reflect on that hopefully I'll be able to blog about soon.  Without a doubt, I've had a lot of incredible moments with God and friends, and I've also had a lot of serious, difficult, stimulating and heartbreaking moments that have arisen while watching some of the theatre productions.

Our next stay is in Rydal, in the Lake District.  We head out on Tuesday!

Last Day In Stratford

I really should have written this post in iambic pentameter, since all my thoughts are in "Shakespeare" and not regular English.  My internal thoughts are literally in Elizabethan English with occasional occurrences of rhyme.

I'm well caught up in my homework, so I have some time to update this.

Tonight is our last night in Stratford-Upon-Avon.  We're leaving tomorrow morning for Edinburgh and going to be spending the next week gallavanting about at the Edinburgh Festival, the worlds largest cultural event and arts festival.  Insane.

I've started classes this week, and they all seem like they're going to be great experiences.  The homework load has been wonderful so far, but the internet is "dodgy" (yep, I'm converting to dodgy rather than sketchy), so that slows down the homework pace.

On Tuesday, a few of us visited Shakespeare's burial site.  It's located in a Cathedral down the road from our bed and breakfast (my room has a view of its steeple).  I was happy that it hadn't turned into much of a tourist sight like the rest of the Shakespeare-related places in Stratford.  The cathedral was gorgeous, but the grave plaque was not that exciting, really.  It's strange to make such a big deal out of a piece of ground where someone is buried.

Our group took a day trip to London on Thursday to see two plays at the Old Vic.  London looks incredible and I can't wait to spend more time there in the next few months.  But here's my story of the day:
My friend Kirsten and I met Jeff Goldblum!
We were downstairs outside the restrooms by the bar of the Old Vic.  I noticed him at the bar with his mega-trendy art friends, and immediately told Kirsten.  We spent the next few minutes trying to figure out if it was really him and whether we should get a picture.  We did the very sneaky "lets turn around and pretend you're talking to me so you can look at him without turning around" trick.  Eventually he noticed us spying on him and walked over to meet us!  We all talked for about 10 minutes about our trip, his new play in town (which he invited us to - and told us to come hang out backstage) and the show we were all watching that day.  He was so nice!  He introduced himself as Jeff, and when we decided at the last minute as we were all walking away to get a picture, I yelled out "Jeff!"...since we're clearly on a first name basis.

Also in London, I ate Indian food, and tried Turkish food for the first time.  The Indian food was good, especially since I love naan, but the Turkish food was just alright.  But I'm trying new things and it's exciting.

Tonight is the last play we're seeing in Stratford.  Eight plays in eight days.  I'm tired.

The Beginning

I flew on my first transatlantic-flight.  I vomited all over the aisles and myself, but I survived, and so did my baggage.  England has already been a whirlwind, and I really need some time to process what I've already seen and experienced.

I'm in Stratford-Upon-Avon, where Shakespeare was born and is buried.

Here are some highlights so far:
1) I'm in England.  2) Our bed and breakfast is absolutely adorable, and our hosts are the sweetest people you could hope to have as hosts.  3) I've seen two Shakespearean plays at the Royal Shakepeare Company's current theatre.  4) I've strolled past and stopped to admire Shakespeare's birthplace.  5) I've seen two real and completely different castles.

Most importantly, I've had some incredible experiences with God already.  Kristin said to look out for and make note of my experiences with God as "generational," and that's clearly something I'm already learning.  Today we drove from Stratford to Coventry to attend an Anglican service at Coventry Cathedral.  The back story: Coventry Cathedral was the only Cathedral bombed out during WWII, and rather than rebuilding the old remains, the church chose to create a new cathedral adjacent to the bombed site.  On the alter of the ruins, the words "Father Forgive" were inscribed right after the bombing.
I was so moved by the experience of the ruined cathedral, but even more, the service was an incredible showing of tradition that is still being pressed forward by the spirit.  The church is very traditional in its worship, yet their thoughts about forgiveness and reconciliation of the world have sparked their desire to fight as a body for God's spirit to move in reconciling His creation.

There really are no words to describe how beautiful it was to experience.

I need to upload photos soon...

T-Minus 6 Days

I'll be sharing my life in the UK for four months on this blog.  Enjoy!