Saturday, October 4, 2008

Orientation Day

I feel like I’ve already written about today, because I’ve done so much instant messaging this evening, but I’ll oblige whoever happens upon this page and tell about it again. (Warning: It’s none too exciting. Mostly things to do with walking.)

This morning began a little earlier – 7 AM – as Gill had to take Poppy to school after dropping me off at the station. By quarter-past 8 we were out the door, and shortly after, I was on the train once again, en route to London. I’d caught the slower train, but that was just as well, since I was very early to begin with; I passed the time watching an episode of Monk on my iPod (it was “Mr. Monk Buys A House”, since you’re so insistent to know).

I’d arrived at Farringdon Station just after 9, leaving me with more time than I knew what to do with. Orientation was at 10:30, and I had no idea how to pass the time in Islington (all I knew about the area really came from Dirk Gently). I started out by walking towards BUNAC – down Farringdon Road, toward Bowling Green Lane – and when I reached the Lane, I kept walking. I arrived at a fairly substantial intersection, turned right, headed down between a narrow path of shops and cafés, made another turn, and sat in a small park by a church to finish watching Monk. Then I walked all around again, making one different turn, bought a hot chicken & mushroom pastry and a sort of honey vanilla soy smoothie, walked some more, ate my food, etc. etc. I thought I’d killed some time, but I still had 40 minutes to go. A few minutes went by before I resigned from the idea and got in early. I signed in, filled out some papers upstairs, browsed the internet for affordable flat-shares and checked my email.

Then, the orientation began at 10:30… we watched a short film about a Scottish tour called “Haggis” whilst the remaining people filled out papers, then we looked at PowerPoint slides whilst Caroline (if I’m not mistaken) gave us the full lowdown for two and a half hours. (It wasn’t as excruciating as it sounds – she was a pretty nice speaker.)

(It’s amazing I’ve already filled a page’s worth of stuff for the most boring parts, isn’t it? Just pray I don’t get bored of this myself, and give up early.)

ANYWAY. So, with that, Caroline ended the lecture and released us into the wild. There were boards containing jobs, accommodations, travel deals, and so on; printed faxes to be read; and many, many lists to read. I copied down a few of them, gathered all the lists, and got a media-focused list of jobs, agencies and informational websites.

Starting that process, I chatted with some other BUNAC-ers; I got to know a couple Aussies a little bit, and eventually got to chatting with a Canadian – Nicole – for quite a while longer. In fact, the two of us didn’t do very much research in the time sitting there… we were there for about an hour after the orientation had ended, and all we’d really done was gather papers. She’d gotten her appointment for the bank, though, and eventually had to leave to make time. But, I didn’t have much to do for the time being except see to my phone problem, and I could do that nearby the bank anyway, so I tagged along. Since I’d taken the bus to a certain extent en route before, we followed the walking directions at first, and when we were relatively nearby, I led the rest of the way. We had a lot of fun comparing the differences between Canada and the US – or California, more specifically; all the stereotypes, pop culture, attitudes to sports, etc. And both of us really, really want to see the movie W in a London cinema when it comes out. Anyway… We reached the NatWest bank on-time, and unlike my experience yesterday, in which I was pointed in many possible directions before finally landing on the right place, I led the way once more, helping her skip all the nonsense I had to put up with. The rest of the process took much longer than expected, however; I sat outside an office and read a free paper cover-to-cover until she came out (she’d expected I might’ve just left by then).

After that… (Are you still reading this??) The both of us headed to a Carphone Warehouse on The Strand. I enjoyed the novelty of her experiencing it for the first time – The Strand is, of course, the idealized version of London usually best imagined, and especially with the sun shining through its center at that particular moment, with the dramatic clouds left over from an early morning rain – it was a sublime sight, like something from a Turner painting.

And so on, and so forth, etc. etc… Walking down the Strand, pointing out the hotel I stayed at with my parents last spring and that great little café next to it… So anyway, after much time and deliberation, I helped her chose a pay-as-you-go phone (unlike my phone, hers didn’t include a SIM card, so she needed a new phone altogether), and my own phone problem wasn’t in any way improved. (Meanwhile, back at the farm…) My dad was checking the code and advised me to check my email. So it was not without hope that I left that shop.

It was after 5 PM, and by then I figured it was a good time to head home. We parted ways at Charring Cross Station, with her taking the Northern Line back to the student hostel & I taking the Bakerloo Line to Blackfriar Station, where I could get a train back to St. Albans. (We’d already exchanged contact information.)

Back at St. Albans, Gill was unable to pick me up (she was getting ready to leave for a choir practice), but Kevin was en route via train from London right behind me, and caught up with me about fifteen or so minutes later (meanwhile, my dad texted the correct unlock code... yay!). One brisk, longish walk later, we were at the car and listening to BBC 4 go on about the credit crunch and billionaires not buying football clubs. Gill was just leaving as we were arriving; dinner was put in the oven an thirty minutes later we had a sort of pasta casserole with gorgonzola, bacon, and veggies, interrupted only once by my – now working! – phone, as my dad had called to confirm some details for the wire transfer from WaMu.

Gill came home relatively early, right after dinner. I spilled the details of the day and he let me know about the weekend’s plans, inviting me to join if I felt inclined to. I won’t be going into London for the weekend – there’s no need – and I can easily take care of the other things (e.g., cleaning up my CV, writing cover letters, etc.) in addition. We’ll be waking at no particular time with a fairly open schedule; depending on the weather, we may go hiking, shopping, or do something else. Sunday will begin with a Full English Breakfast and the remaining day will be fairly relaxed. I’m looking forward to it all.

We’ll be doing these things along with some of their friends (drat, I forgot some names already…) from a more northerly region of England; they arrived around 11pm, and I enjoyed some time with everyone all in the living room (note: I still haven’t worked out whether that’s what they call the room in the UK; Gill may have seemed a little confused once when I mentioned it), albeit occasionally a little awkwardly on my part. I didn’t always get all the references, but Gill usually filled me in on things, and brought me into conversations (thank you, Gill!). They’re a great group; tomorrow should be quite fun.

Oh god… it’s 2:55 AM. Whoops.

G’night!

2 comments:

Rex said...

Awesome and eventful day - huzzah! =D

I'd be interested in finding out what the "living room" is referred to...the "sitting room"? :P

Anonymous said...

Schotts says that, in the traditional differences in dialect between middle and working class, "sitting room" in the "posher" version, and "living room" the more working-class.
Other variations? Front room (even when it's at the back), lounge, and traditionally in Suffolk just "the room".