I get by with a little help from my 100+ friends

Walking home last night I realized I'm in a unique place. And when I talk about place, I mean Oxford itself as a city. When I first came here my closest friends where all Londoners, and all of them moaned. "Why are you coming over here?" was a really common question. It was too expensive, too crowded, to inconvenient, too this... too that...

But, I'm in Oxford. Oxford is a transient town. It's very youthful because of the university, but it's also very accepting. People come here from everywhere, whether they are a tourist or someone wanting to learn English. Because of this you wind up with a much more open community. For instance, I can walk into the local pub frequented on Fridays and without fail will find someone to sit with. Even if I only know them through a friend of a friend of a friend. They don't care, they'll let you sit with them because of that encounter you had a few weeks back where you said hi.

So long as you position yourself with the same open tendency you can't really ever run out of things to do or places to go. You don't have to run around with loads of cash, nor think you'll be crammed and inconvenienced. Sure, sometimes I miss my car and the stores full of stuff I don't need, but perhaps the reason the bike paths and long walks were put into place is to remind you not to rush.

So, despite the bad few weeks I've had (which I'm pulling out of in case you were worried) I have to be grateful to the 100+ people I've met, sat with at a pub, apologized to when I bumped, crammed in on a bus or train with, and lamented when they were biking so slow ahead of me - thank you. Last night, after being very internal and miserable and feeling foreign I was reminded that most of us here are foreign, but we're here. Wherever I go, there I am.

The Merry Month of May

May is the time for new beginnings. For marveling at the wonders of nature. Drinking in the long days. Planning holidays and picnics. Jumping off bridges at 6AM, watching tortoises race, and then picnic while people willingly hitting each other with sticks.

Yes, May. Within my first four days of it here in England, I have witnessed a lot.

Take, for instance, May Day itself in Oxford. It's highlight: Waking up stupid early and going down to Magdalen College to hear people greet the morning in song from the topmost tower. Now I say wake up, as I am 31 and therefore old. If you are in college you stay up all night at the pubs who bravely allow themselves to be open. Then, at about 5:30 AM you stumble out, screaming incoherently at your friends. Afterwards you sort of stumble, in a chain, towards the bridge where you want to jump from into the river Cherwell. However, there are police there blocking the bridge, as the water levels can be very low and you could do something like break your back. But, as the grand rap group of the 80s proclaimed, &*(^ the police, right? You're invincible, and barely dressed! And mafakulllllrghhhh! (I think that is what the guy said before they simply arrested him.)

People did eventually jump from the bridge, I've been told. But no injuries. Apparently in the past it's been a light policing, but that usually ends up with 40% of the jumpers needing to go to the hospital. In ye olden times the bridge jump was an actual tradition, but the water level has changed. Personally, I'd be all for rushing into the Cherwell, not jumping. Have you seen how far it is from the bridge to the water? That's freaking high!

The second of May this year was dedicated to the Oxford College tradition of racing tortoises. This is an event held by Corpus Christi, who held a fair, and then let us cram into a corner of their courtyard to watch tortoises from other colleges race to the outside lettuce ring. Now all colleges do not have a tortoise, though several do. Those who don't send people dressed as tortoises, who hold their own competition of seeing who can eat a head of lettuce fast enough. This year Christ Church's got dirty, mounting several other competitors and eventually leading to disqualification. Oddly enough, it was Corpus Christi's tortoise, Oldham, who seemed to pull through and win twice. Tortoise enhancement drugs?

I shot most of my pictures through people's legs. Standing next to me was a man, maybe 20, who was in a full summer suit.

"I say!" he said to a man in front of us. A bearded chap with a bit of a bald spot. "I say good sir, how are you?"
"Fantastic," the man with the beard and the bald spot responded back, "Doing a dramatic reading for the kids in the courtyard in an hour."
"Truly splendid," the summer suit man responded, "Tell me, do you Facebook?"
"Surely I do." he replied.
"I shall search for you then."

Only in Oxford would the politest means of Facebook exchange ever take place at a tortoise race between a 20 year old in a summer suit and a dramatic literature reader.

May the Third was given over to jousting. It's bank holiday here (WOOT!) and Blenheim Palace holds jousting during this weekend past the cricket lawns. Blenheim is still a family home, so sometimes I wonder what it would be like to actually be a person who lived there and could call it their home. I could imagine a sulky teenager all angry because it's jousting on the lawn this weekend and he has to stay rather then jet to Paris or something strange.

They are quite smart during the jousting events, inviting children out to do a knight's parade and play shrubs for the falconer's birds to fly over. I think 80% of the attendants were children, which of course makes me wonder to some level how they still managed to be on rather good behavior. We got there for second round, squeezing in a picnic blanket at the front so we could watch, but keeping a row back so kids could sit in front. It was actually quite fun, as the knights really seemed to enjoy their work, and the competition was pretty real for some of the events. I also salute the fights, and with that highly recommend heading out to a jousting weekend should you have the chance.

And May 4th? Well, it's being spent cataloging all this craziness. But there you have it. I hope that we get a rest break of sorts... who knows... may there is ferret racing at Baliol followed by ninjas on the lawn at Windsor... Hooray for May!