A Cup of Tea

Did you know that on average there are 120 million cups of tea drank PER DAY in the UK? The UK has a population of roughly 63 million people--that means an average of 2 cups for every person on this relatively small island. It's an amazing concept--the popularity of a hot, simple-to-make, and arguably bland beverage (not to start a riot!).

Tea means connection; it means calm; it means a shared experience or a solo afternoon soother. My roommate and I frequently go about our days boiling water in the kettle, asking one other if she'd like tea. Here's the kicker, we're both American! Somehow, this little island has entirely incorporated her heart and soul into our daily lives. For the past nine months I doubt I've gone two days without tea (well the parts I was actually in the UK for).

So, why a post about tea? Flashback to this past September and I would not have understood the important difference between tea and other tea. Tea--the staple drink--refers to the classic English breakfast tea. A little boost of caffeine, a dash of milk and sugar, and you have a very mild and delicious pick-me-up. All other teas--Early Grey, Peppermint, Lemon and Ginger, Fruit flavors, etc.--belong to a special camp of variety. Additionally, if you're sitting down to a cup of tea you can't forget about your biscuits, be they plain, chocolate-covered, or a more elaborate fashion. There is something so quintessential about tea time and the practice of tea drinking that resembles England for me. SO, as I turn to the final corner of my final term, I am over thinking everything--even my basic cup of English breakfast tea.

Right now I'm supposed to be typing away on my Shakespeare essay (on Much Ado About Nothing and A Mid Summer Night's Dream). Instead, I'm meandering in my mind about the importance of tea and how revolutionary my life has become since I picked up the habit of daily drinking it. Mind-blowing, right? Well, actually, yes! This habit brings me a heart pang. It relates how much even basic cultural trends are hugely instrumental. This year my life has been a whirlwind of studying and traveling, and though there were moments when I just wanted a day at home with my family, these experiences have added to my repertoire of life. This tea became an analogy for a new home and new people and a new culture, and ultimately I have continued to boil the water because a classic cup of tea never lets you down. It's hard to look at these final days without a bittersweet viewpoint. But what I know, is that regardless of the tears to be shed on leaving, and then the smiles to be received on returning home, I have changed. And I will bring my tea-drinking habit--I will bring my new cultural awareness--home with me.

On Trinity

When I was young I used to love diving in the swimming pool. The act of submerging myself into water, the sheer power of the rush--from air to water--was like magic. One of my favorite things to do in the pool was swim below the surface and look straight up. A clear sheet lay above me, illustrating a distorted version of the sky. Leaves and blue aqua skies rose above my eyes. The vision was circular, because the depths of the water past my peripheral version blurred, making the sky my main focus.

In seven weeks exactly, almost to the tee, I will land in Cincinnati, Ohio, home after a year away. When I see home, I see it like the sky in the swimming pool--as a sort of blurred vision that seems close, but is separated. I could only see the sky with this beautiful, but distorted picture from underwater. When I would emerge, the reality of the whole world came back.

After two weeks back at Oxford everything has fallen back into its usual place. My tutorials, my workload, my friends. But something is different this time because now, with this term, I know it's my last. There's a realization that every week of struggles will be my last. I've met my last tutors, scheduled my last classes, begun my last term. And that's both a strange concept and a rewarding one. I've been in Europe for a little over 7 months and I'm now entering the final haul.

As I step into every last week--nought week, 1st week, 2nd week and so on, I know that I'm close to seeing my family and home friends again, but I also know that I'm closer to the end of this chapter of my life. It's an unfinished story for now, but it's something I'll carry forever.

When I would float below the surface, I would only have thirty seconds to enjoy my swirled sky. In the scheme of my life, this year is but a blip. Floating below the surface of reality--in a different place, with different friends, and different surroundings--I have changed who I am above the surface. I've thought and lived and grown, away from home and all that was familiar. And now my thirty seconds are  ticking faster, and I intend to keep them close, and remember the below-water details. This year has been the most independent, difficult, and inspiring year of my life. And when I do break the surface, when I do come up for air, the normal world will never look the same again.

People and Time

 I'm currently in Florence, Italy, the birthplace of the Renaissance. And while the city's long past glory days are evident everywhere, the main reason for tourism here, today I looked at the people of the 21st century. I took a few pictures of Italian people today, and rather than share them, I want to describe why I thought they should be photographed.

1. A woman sitting and blowing smoke from her cigarette with the awareness that she was a cool drink of water. There's something fascinating about the process of people watching and the awareness that other people notice you. Most of us shrug ourselves off in the presence of others, continuing in the tedium of everyday life. But some people soak in their selves, they stand out because they have confidence-- they make themselves figures to look at. This woman arched her neck and blew smoke out with perched lips, mirroring Audrey Hepburn in New York City. Becoming the cool Italian smoker.

2. Two older women standing at an outside market, eating gelato. These two women looked authentically Italian to me. They had salt and pepper bobs, and one was relishing a cone of gelato and speaking with enthusiasm to her friend. I was isolated from their conversation by language, but nonetheless they seemed supreme in their friendship.

3. A man whizzing past on his Vespa. I took an action shot, and happy his helmet shows a blurred Italian flag on it. I love taking pictures of people and then leaving the scene. They may be aware I was taking their picture, or I could have taken a shot of the building behind them. This man capitulated the fast action of Italian motorcycles, and people moving in Italy.

So there you have it, a sliver of my Italian experience. (Sorry for excessive fragment use and typos, typing on a phone isn't the smartest decision.)

Italy is most likely the last country I'll be visiting outside of those in the United Kingdom, and as my international travels are nearing a close I realize I want to come away from this year with an idea of not only the places I've seen, but the people surrounding them.

An Ode to Traveling

If you happen to be reading this (chiefly my Dad and possibly a chum), then you've realized I haven't been a regular blogger. Blogs are wonderful; they are tools to give advice and share our adventures. But I haven't been an adamant blogger, and so I'm going to sum up my winter travels in this post.

You've also most likely noticed that my posts are circuitous. I've come to think of these posts as a reminder that I'm doing something out of the norm--it's here to reassure myself and family members that I am abroad and that I am doing something fulfilling with my time. Now that I've established this, I'd like to share a quote with you.

“Foreign lands never yield their secrets to a traveller. The best they offer are tantalising snippets, just enough to inflame the imagination. The secrets they do reveal are your own - the ones you have kept from yourself. And this is reason enough to travel, to leave home.”  -Graeme Sparkes

Now this wise man's quote struck a chord with me. Because as much as traveling has inspired me to travel more, it also lead me to several conclusions about myself. Traveling taught me that I am a speck of the world, not in a harrowing way, but in a dense way. I am just one person among billions, but that is exactly why it's important I lead a life I find important. I want to pursue a life that will make me happy, and at the root of what matters in life is ultimately love, happiness, and purpose.

Like my friend Graeme says, leaving home reveals unknown truths about ourselves. Sometimes leaving our comfort zones encourages personal growth and also appreciation. Studying abroad and traveling have taught me the importance of family and adjustment. Overall, my perception of myself as a foreigner has mellowed. We sometimes cling to our identities because it is easy, but there is much more to the core of who we are than our nationality. And therefore it is essential that we do leave home, even if it be sparingly.

Switzerland, Germany, France, Belgium, Czech Republic, Austria, Spain, Ireland

I visited those eight countries. Each were amazing, each significantly different. I hesitate to use the word 'equally' because I cannot be the critic of countries I spent relatively little time in. But I'll tell you this, these countries are beautiful. And not just through terrain and architecture. These countries contain raw energy, they, like the United States and England, have human beings--human nature that sprawls. They contain grunge, and cleanliness. They contain brilliant gems and dull surfaces. They have the very brunt of humanity in their apexes. Because every place, regardless of its language and customs, is a part of this world. And the world we live in has both grime and grace, both loveliness and lividness. And those human emotions--anger, sadness, happiness, love--contribute to the beauty of life. Without them we would be nothing, but with them we are alive, we thrive.

Travel if you can. Travel is perspective.

Ireland

Here it is, a post about my adventures! It's ironic that I waited a whole month until returning to do so, and now I am only a month away from my next set of travels!

Ireland as a country is lovely. Although seemingly similar to the UK, the people and culture take on their own feel. In short, I found it charming and friendly. In Ireland, I visited Dublin, Cork, Galway, and Killarney. I was with my Mom for these travels, and we took a loose approach to where we would travel, deciding a few days ahead of time where we would venture next.

There were two parts of my trip that stuck as out as my favorites. The first was visiting Blarney Castle, which is close to Cork. I have a very fond childhood memory of playing Build-A-Bear games on the Internet, and one was a trip through Ireland. The little bear made its way up to the castle, and kissed the famous 'blarney stone', as legend say it gives the kisser the 'gift of gab', or eloquence of speech. The day we went to Blarney was windy and wet, so very appropriate for a 600 year old castle. The stairs up are slim and daunting, and I held tight to the ropes accompanying the climb. I will admit I was shaky at the top, fear creeping through my veins at the thought of slipping through the holes in the structure. I didn't kiss the stone--I know, anticlimactic, but I've heard that locals have peed on the stone, laughing at all the tourists who later kiss it. Now whether this is true or not, I don't believe I had the strength of courage to lay upside down and kiss the stone. I'll never know if I could speak more easily otherwise!

The second favorite memory was the Cliffs of Moher. We took a day-trip of the Burren region, outside of Galway. It was an extremely windy day, and my clothes were soaked several times by the rain. But again, it seemed romantic that the day was so stormy. The Cliffs are amazingly majestic, and one of the most beautiful sights I've seen in my life. However, the cliffs are marred by a somewhat sad notion. Tour groups constantly have to remind its members of the danger of the cliffs. From time to time, people lose their lives creeping over the edge. It's both a sad and curious way to die, but those who choose it must want to rest in peace somewhere ultimately beautiful. Yes, very morbid, but the Cliffs will always remain in my memory as extremely beautiful. Cool side note, the Cliffs of Moher were used in the Harry Potter series as the cave/ocean where Voldemort buries the Salazar Slytherin locket. You may remember that towards the end of The Half-Blood Prince Dumbledore and Harry go there to find said horcrux, and return with the fake locket. (Nerd moment over.)

While the other parts of Ireland were equally wonderful, I have a very soft spot for nature-centric travels. The bulk of my traveling this break was to cities, but what I always found most touching were the sights, the raw energy of the country's resources and land. But there's so much to be said for architecture and man-made beauty as well--however I'm not the astute tourist with the historical knowledge to recount those details.


I've enclosed pictures of the travels, and hope you find my pictures of Ireland as enchanting as I found the country!

The River Liffey in Dublin

The top of Blarney Castle

The Cliffs of Moher

Lambs are a popular animal in Ireland!

Train Rides!