Two years ago, I remember feeling faintly suspicious when our International Law lecturer started his lectures by justifying the study of the subject, and having to explain what the subject actually was. Come the end of the (very long) year my suspicions were eventually confirmed. So, imagine my horror when our Jurisprudence lecturer was asked what Jurisprudence actually was, and answered that there was no accepted answer! That's a whole big step beyond the International Law scenario, but thankfully I'm not feeling suspicious about it, it's oddly satisfying studying a subject with no accepted answers.
Yesterday I finally realised an ambition that I put on hold in the first year after baulking at its price - karting. Karting is one of those words that Microsoft's spell check refuses to accept, and most people seem to react slightly oddly when you say it's what you're doing. But its relative obscurity is part of its appeal, although the speed helps too. So yesterday 29 of us took off to a local indoor karting track for a bit of racing action. We each took part in two qualifying races to determine positions for one of the three finals. I haven't karted for at least two years, and not in a proper racing kart for closer to six or seven years. Nonetheless, after starting 6th in my first heat, I was 2nd by the first corner, and finally came home in 4th, which I thought quite respectable. Unfortunately things fell apart in my second heat. I started 2nd, and owing to having a kart with less than perfect acceleration, I was 10th and last by the first corner. Eventually I pitted to get it checked out before being sent on my way. Perhaps I was pushing a little too hard at this point, but unfortunately what happened next resulted in me leaving my seat, and my kart, and ending up sprawled across the track! I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I remember coming into a 180-degree corner, and finding a kart spun on the apex. Unfortunately I had no time to brake, leaving my inertia to disagree with the sudden deceleration, the result propelling me out of my kart. Fortunately the red flags were thrown straight away and no-one hit me. But everyone looked a little shocked, not least the staff who obviously had the inevitable insurance claim running through their minds. But I soldiered on and got back in, to finish 9th, which doesn't say much for the guy who came 10th. In my final I started 2nd and finished 1st, which seemed to make up for the events of the second heat.
Despite all that though it was tremendous fun, and I can't wait to get back behind the wheel and do it all over again, although I wouldn't mind staying in my kart next time. I've got an impressive bruise and scratch on my back, very sore shoulders, and a nice bruise on my derriere, which seemed to take most of my track-bound impact.
By comparison with all that today's five hours worth of lectures and one supervision has seemed pretty dull. Although I did meet the five Dutch students who've come over from Utrecht this year. I was sat in the lecture theatre a few rows behind them before thinking "I know that language!", so I trotted down for a chat. My Dutch lectures continue to amaze me - I didn't know how much about language I was completely ignorant about. I'm the only non-linguist, so perhaps it really shows, but I'm sticking my hand up every few minutes to check on the meaning of dipthongs, indirect objects, definite articles and personal pronouns. And I still can't speak Dutch.
15/10/2007
12/10/2007
A new perspective
So it's now been over two weeks since I came back up to University, and to be honest, the more time I spend here, the more it's beginning to feel like it always has. Last year in Holland there was the double whamey of being in a new place, with new people. But despite that, I settled in there in no time at all, so I guess it stands to reason that seeing how the only new aspect here are the new people (and the fact that library now has a toilet) I should feel right at home. Which I do.
But that doesn't stop me from seeing things a little differently than before. Take the Law Faculty, where I spent a sizeable portion of my afternoon today. There's a fading newspaper article outside my Director of Studies office reporting on the problems with the Faculty when it first opened. Primarily the architect thought it would be a good idea to have the three floors of the library all open to each other with each higher level being like a mezzanine. Not a bad idea in itself, apart from the fact that he went one further and made the whole library one giant mezzanine to the communal entrance area. Hence, all the noise from downstairs resonated up through the library. So new glass walls had to be built to make the library more like a library. But not only that. The whole Faculty has one normal sized entrance door for people to get in and out. There's another door inside to the lecture theatres which is similarly normally sized, and there are giant concrete pillars blocking the entrances to the individual theatres themselves. The door into the men's toilet hits anyone using the urinals. You can hear what's going on in one lecture theatre in the one next door. The swivel chairs will only go down, and not back up, so everyone has to sit with their knees at the same level as their chins. The automatic lights noisily shake their shades every time they come on. The stairs are too shallow to take comfortably one at a time, but slightly too deep to make it two a time all the way up. And the whole place is cold, apart from the lecture theatres which are roasting. In short, I hate it. But the best thing is that it's designed by none other than Norman Foster himself. It's enough to make you want to cry that someone so famous can get it so so wrong. People say that from the outside it looks like an airport terminal, but in that case, inside it can't be anything other than the baggage handling hanger at Heathrow.
Selwyn itself is thankfully much better. Although I returned to my room the other day to find the whole staircase decked out in rather institutional signs pointing to all of the rooms. An immediate thought crossed my mind. The College has been without these signs for the past 130 odd years, with apparently no ill effects, so what's happened in the past few days to make them put them up? Although at least there's no danger I'll walk into the kitchen expecting to find the shower in the morning any more.
Unfortunately while I was working in the library (read: analysing it's faults) little did I realise that a certain grouping had taken a liking to my room. The other day I woke up to find a rather large bee in my bedroom - he seemed just as annoyed at the inconvenience as I was. But today nature went one better, and while I was beavering away, a group of ladybirds apparently decided to take up residence behind my curtain rail.
This could well explain why I've been ushering out similar ladybirds for the past few days. Obviously someone's done the ladybird equivalent of posting an invitation to a party in C13 on MySpace or YouTube. I'm just waiting for the music to start.
But that doesn't stop me from seeing things a little differently than before. Take the Law Faculty, where I spent a sizeable portion of my afternoon today. There's a fading newspaper article outside my Director of Studies office reporting on the problems with the Faculty when it first opened. Primarily the architect thought it would be a good idea to have the three floors of the library all open to each other with each higher level being like a mezzanine. Not a bad idea in itself, apart from the fact that he went one further and made the whole library one giant mezzanine to the communal entrance area. Hence, all the noise from downstairs resonated up through the library. So new glass walls had to be built to make the library more like a library. But not only that. The whole Faculty has one normal sized entrance door for people to get in and out. There's another door inside to the lecture theatres which is similarly normally sized, and there are giant concrete pillars blocking the entrances to the individual theatres themselves. The door into the men's toilet hits anyone using the urinals. You can hear what's going on in one lecture theatre in the one next door. The swivel chairs will only go down, and not back up, so everyone has to sit with their knees at the same level as their chins. The automatic lights noisily shake their shades every time they come on. The stairs are too shallow to take comfortably one at a time, but slightly too deep to make it two a time all the way up. And the whole place is cold, apart from the lecture theatres which are roasting. In short, I hate it. But the best thing is that it's designed by none other than Norman Foster himself. It's enough to make you want to cry that someone so famous can get it so so wrong. People say that from the outside it looks like an airport terminal, but in that case, inside it can't be anything other than the baggage handling hanger at Heathrow.
Selwyn itself is thankfully much better. Although I returned to my room the other day to find the whole staircase decked out in rather institutional signs pointing to all of the rooms. An immediate thought crossed my mind. The College has been without these signs for the past 130 odd years, with apparently no ill effects, so what's happened in the past few days to make them put them up? Although at least there's no danger I'll walk into the kitchen expecting to find the shower in the morning any more.
Unfortunately while I was working in the library (read: analysing it's faults) little did I realise that a certain grouping had taken a liking to my room. The other day I woke up to find a rather large bee in my bedroom - he seemed just as annoyed at the inconvenience as I was. But today nature went one better, and while I was beavering away, a group of ladybirds apparently decided to take up residence behind my curtain rail.
This could well explain why I've been ushering out similar ladybirds for the past few days. Obviously someone's done the ladybird equivalent of posting an invitation to a party in C13 on MySpace or YouTube. I'm just waiting for the music to start.
04/10/2007
A life in Post-it notes
Behind my desk there's a wonderfully empty expanse of magnolia wall - easily 3 metres long by about 1 high. Originally I planned to find a poster to fill the space, but couldn't find one that I could bear to stare at all day. So instead, I've filled it up with Post-it notes. This might be more original, but it has the unfortunate drawback that I'm constantly reminded of the things that I am, by definition, actually not doing. But it does make me look busy.
Today was the momentous day when lectures finally started. I've only been here a week, but it already feels about double that time, so it came as some sort of odd relief to be back in the lecture theatre. Although my wrist wouldn't have concurred after writing about as many notes in a one-hour lecture as I wrote for a whole subject in Holland. Although the fact that you're expected to speak out in lectures in Holland did mean that I did so today without really thinking about it, which I guess is a good thing - even if it did come as something of a shock after the event. I also met my Jurisprudence supervisor, and he successfully managed to note a category of jurisprudence students who'll survive by making comments such as "it's all about morality in the law". Barring some amazing foresight on his behalf I don't think he was addressing that to me specifically, but he might as well have been.
But today also saw a slightly new direction in my to-ings and fro-ings. I didn't think that I'd actually do it, but today I had my first Dutch lesson whereupon we learnt the alphabet. It's hard to convey just how shaming it is to have spent a year in a country and not be able to sing that country's alphabet song. I could manage the infamous Dutch 'g', but when it came to 'a', 'e' and 'i'... well, memories of year-6 German came flooding back - but without the in hindsight grotesque attempts to impress the exchange students. But still, I shall stick with it.
I met another returning-Erasmus student today who was having the same problem of not knowing anyone, so at least it's not entirely down to my social ineptness. There was a lawyerly bonding session in the (now gloriously smoke free) Bar the other night, where I impressed myself by managing to converse properly with one Fresher. I feel torn between the part of me that wants to get to know who all these unfamiliar faces are, and the other part that just feels slightly removed from the whole process. The lecture theatre was an oddly lonely place, which is slightly ridiculous considering how before, although I recognised people, I had no more of idea who they were.
Of course, throughout the year more people will become familiar, but it's already time to be thinking of next year. I've already missed a couple of deadlines for things I was thinking of doing through a combination of ill-planning and laziness, so it's time to get focused. And that's where the Post-it notes are intended to come in.
Today was the momentous day when lectures finally started. I've only been here a week, but it already feels about double that time, so it came as some sort of odd relief to be back in the lecture theatre. Although my wrist wouldn't have concurred after writing about as many notes in a one-hour lecture as I wrote for a whole subject in Holland. Although the fact that you're expected to speak out in lectures in Holland did mean that I did so today without really thinking about it, which I guess is a good thing - even if it did come as something of a shock after the event. I also met my Jurisprudence supervisor, and he successfully managed to note a category of jurisprudence students who'll survive by making comments such as "it's all about morality in the law". Barring some amazing foresight on his behalf I don't think he was addressing that to me specifically, but he might as well have been.
But today also saw a slightly new direction in my to-ings and fro-ings. I didn't think that I'd actually do it, but today I had my first Dutch lesson whereupon we learnt the alphabet. It's hard to convey just how shaming it is to have spent a year in a country and not be able to sing that country's alphabet song. I could manage the infamous Dutch 'g', but when it came to 'a', 'e' and 'i'... well, memories of year-6 German came flooding back - but without the in hindsight grotesque attempts to impress the exchange students. But still, I shall stick with it.
I met another returning-Erasmus student today who was having the same problem of not knowing anyone, so at least it's not entirely down to my social ineptness. There was a lawyerly bonding session in the (now gloriously smoke free) Bar the other night, where I impressed myself by managing to converse properly with one Fresher. I feel torn between the part of me that wants to get to know who all these unfamiliar faces are, and the other part that just feels slightly removed from the whole process. The lecture theatre was an oddly lonely place, which is slightly ridiculous considering how before, although I recognised people, I had no more of idea who they were.
Of course, throughout the year more people will become familiar, but it's already time to be thinking of next year. I've already missed a couple of deadlines for things I was thinking of doing through a combination of ill-planning and laziness, so it's time to get focused. And that's where the Post-it notes are intended to come in.
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