I must apologize for not posting in such a long time. At first it was because nothing in particular was happening, and then it became that I was too busy doing so many spectacular things that I could not find time to post. I think the most notable event was the family stay last weekend, so I shall focus on that and then perhaps post soon about the other wonderful smaller events. And thank you Terry for the supportive e-mail, which made me fully realize how long it has been since my last post.
As I think I have mentioned, I am studying here through a program that is partnered with Connecticut College - the Institute for Study Abroad at Butler University, IFSA-Butler for short. There are about 70 students attending the University of Edinburgh this semester through IFSA-Butler, and the folks at Butler have been an enormous aid - from taking care of a great deal of the academic bureaucracy to hosting weekend trips (Loch Lomond weekend coming up in March, quite excited). Well, another part of their program is teaming up with a host family organization and setting up family visits for one weekend for every IFSA-Butler student. Since there are 70 of us, they have spread these out amongst several weekends, with several different locations - from Stirling to Glasgow to Penrith. Mine was this last weekend, and on Friday afternoon I boarded a coach with about 25 other students for Penrith, which is actually in England. Two other IFSA-Butler students were staying with the same family as I, and we greeted the host mother at Penrith, to be driven about half an hour away to a ‘hamlet’ as she called it - a little village of about eight houses, with a small little elementary school and church.
The host mother was quite friendly, and she had an excellent pasta casserole waiting for us when we arrived. We talked, ate, and laughed until her 23-year-old daughter came home from work. It turns out she is taking a break from college and working as a bartender at a local restaurant, so she joined in on our conversation by the fire with tea. We drank quite a bit of tea that weekend. On Friday night we were discussing our options for what to do on Saturday, and we essentially had two: either join the other families and IFSA students to go somewhere, or make our own path into the Lake District. When Melanie (the host mother) mentioned that we could visit the village where William Wordsworth lived and is now buried, I nearly jumped out of my seat in excitement. William Wordsworth is one of my favorite poets of all time, and he was one of the leading romantic poets to invoke the beauty of the Lake District and make it such a destination for all lovers of nature. I opted for that choice quite strongly, and the others were perfectly up for it as well.
Thus the next day we headed to the Lake District, and it was cloudy and beautiful. That’s one thing about the UK - you start to appreciate clouds in a different way, almost out of necessity. When we arrived in the village, Grasmere, we took a walk around the village (picture at the top is from Grasmere) before heading into its center, which was quite small. We walked first to Wordsworth’s grave in the cemetery, and for the first time in my life I felt as though I was completing a pilgrimage, though not at all one previously planned. I stood there for quite some time, and I quietly recited Stepping Westward, my favorite poem of his. I felt very much at peace. Time passed, and I had to leave the tranquil setting to catch up with my host family. I then discovered Dove Cottage, the place where Wordsworth lived and wrote for quite some time. I bought a ticket and got a detailed and enlightening tour, which I was grateful for, as it was a very small cottage. One of the rooms was covered in old newspaper for insulation back in Wordsworth’s day (it was the children’s bedroom) and another had Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s scales he used for opium, which he was addicted to (but they might have belonged to Thomas de Quincy, also a friend of Wordsworth, also addicted to opium). Not only would I not have understood these things without a tour, I also wouldn’t have seen the dilemma of this beloved poet and family friend living in the room next door to the children, and often waking up screaming from his numerous nightmares. But it was a lovely cottage, really, and I especially enjoyed the room Wordsworth used for writing his poetry - though of course, his favorite place to write poetry was whilst walking through the Lake District.
I then briefly visited the Wordsworth museum, a modern slate building that fit in surprisingly well, but then rejoined my host family who had been patiently waiting. When we went back to the homy hamlet, we were greeted by the host father, who had flown in that morning from being away working for a month. He was working off the coast of Australia as a ‘drilling supervisor’ on an oil rig. He was quite a friendly lad, and together we all drank tea and enjoyed the first rugby match of the Six Nations (England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, and Italy) Rugby Tournament - England v. Italy. After much confusion and the occasional question to the host family, I finally started to understand the sport, and I enjoyed watching England win, 36-11. However, the English commentators were quite critical, and did not enjoy it in the slightest, because England was just not on form. Picky folks, these. After another wonderful dinner, complete with wine and cocktails and tea before, during, and after, we all retired to the fire and had another round of enjoyable conversation. On Sunday morning, we took a long walk around the rugged English countryside, and I felt quite at home and relaxed. It was with reluctance that I departed on Sunday afternoon. I took many good pictures, which I shall post soon. Here is one of Wordsworth’s grave, complete with early snow drops (thanks to Terry for the correction from my earlier mistaken name of wintry daffodils!):
My very best wishes to you all!
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