Ta Ra, England!

I sit on the tarmac waiting for Air France flight 8663 to take off for the first leg of my long journey home while listening to the toddler in the seat behind me screaming at decibels I didn't think humans were capable of, and I reflect upon the life-changing experience the last five months have been to me.  I find it difficult, if not impossible, to synthesize it all into mere words.  The Birmingham sky into which I take off is Colorado blue, the baby is still screaming, and the words will not come.  I think the passion I feel for my beloved England, the affection for unforgettable new friends, and the gratitude for the lovely travel opportunities and day-to-day life in another culture will just have to live in my heart.  Much better there than on the page.  Besides, the tears are beginning to come.

My dear friend, Sherry Dorman, arrived during the last week of school which was absorbed in Christmas preparations.  There was the Christmas "do" for the staff at a lovely restaurant with a wonderful three-course dinner, Christmas cracker popping, dancing, and everyone dressed to the nines.  Lovely.  Then there was a two-hour staff lunch at school, the teachers lounge table set in linens and candles and more Christmas crackers.  Lovely times two.  I was chatting with one of the invited guests, a jolly older gentleman who is a priest from a neighboring parish who was talking about how he liked to brew on the weekends.  I thought he meant brewing tea or coffee, but what he was talking about was beer!  When I asked him if that was his hobby, he responded, "It's more a religion."  Who would've thunk!  Then, Carol entertained us with her yearly rendition of her imitation of British comedienne Victoria Wood's My Name is Pam, substituting names of staff members and recounting events of the past year in her lyrics.  Victoria Wood is very funny (You-Tube her), but Carol is funnier! 

The best part of the week was when four year-five girls walked up to me when I was on the playground and just sort of stood there in front of me, all smiles and giggles.  When I asked them what they were up to, they responded, "We just think you're so cool because you're American!"  Now, that's cool!  :)

On Wednesday after the carol service in the church, I took my class around to other classrooms to perform some Readers Theatre scripts they had been working on, and then the classroom parties were on Thursday and the kids were allowed to come to school out of uniform.  The day before I had given them their Steele tee shirts for their Christmas presents (the ones that I shipped in August and didn't receive until October!), and much to my delight, most of them showed up on Thursday wearing their Steele shirts!  The party lasted all afternoon.  Imagine how much food there was with 30 children each bringing something to share.  There was lots of sugar and lots of yummy English delicacies (but, curiously, not a candy cane in sight).  I think it's safe to say I gained three pounds in one afternoon, dog gone it!  Wasn't my fault--it was just part of the cultural experience I was to be, um, experiencing.  Eileen and the kids taught me a game called "Pass the Parcel" (must be English because I'd never heard of it), and I taught them "Heads Up, Seven Up").  Friday was a half-day marked by the arrival of Santa in the hall where the children all received their gifts from Father Christmas and then danced.  When we got back to the classroom I challenged  the children to demonstrate their best American accent.  Some of them had a pretty good Texas twang.  Not sure where they learned that, but there you go!  As the afternoon wore on, there were tears all around--mine and theirs--and lots of hugs.  I will miss all 30 of them and at the same time, look forward to meeting my "new" class at Steele whom I am certain will miss Ms. Barrows terribly.  The chocolate pence coins I had bought to give to them I unfortunately had to bin at the airport because my luggage was way over their weight limit (blame it on the Christmas presents), and after humiliatingly shuffling stuff from suitcase to suitcase in an attempt to avoid the extortion fee (yeah, I said it), there was just no room for the heavy chocolates.  Sorry, Steele second-graders!  (Merry Christmas, airport workers.)



Couldn't resist being a wee bit naughty.



Friday afternoon right after school, Sherry and I caught the train to London.  With only two nights in London and two nights in Edinburgh, I told Sherry we'd pretty much have to prioritize: shopping or sightseeing.  I'll let the reader speculate about which one we did more of.  We went to the theatre Friday night and saw Blood Brothers (the London theatre scene rivals NYC).  On Saturday we took a hop-on-hop-off bus tour (highly recommend), and I told Sherry that she couldn't be in London and not experience Harrods.  Harrods is an old, iconic mega department store that is so shi shi you can buy 24 k gold TEA, and the restroom lady (don't know the official job title) actually walks through the bathroom spritzing the toilet stalls with perfume!  We strolled around Buckingham Palace, had a look at the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London, and did a little damage to our budgets at Covent Garden with its awesome shops and street markets.                                                                            

On Sunday we flew to Edinburgh (Scotland's capital), a city so old its medieval stone architecture looks as if it rose up from the earth--very different from London but equally as fascinating.  There's a huge castle standing guard over the city at one end of the "Royal Mile" (a mile-long stretch of shops and restaurants), and at the other end is the Palace of Holyroodhouse where the Royal Family stay when they are in town.  Built in 1128, the magnificent palace was home to King Henry VIII's sister and Mary, Queen of Scots, and we found it well worth the entrance fee.

Wednesday was packing day (a bit longer process for five months worth) and one more outing with my dear friend Eileen before our flights back home (Colorado for me, Nebraska for Sherry) on Thursday.   (Or, as it turned out for me, Friday.)

I will miss England terribly, and it is painful to leave behind new-found friends.  I am just filled with gratitude for having been given this opportunity, and for what I've learned about myself and the world around me, and for what I've unlearned about myself and the world around me.  England, Ireland, Wales, Italy, Scotland, and teaching in a British Catholic school.  Man, what a ride!  But as Eileen says, it's not goodbye--it's ta ra . . . for now.

The Christmas Play and a Trip to Chester

Last week at school it was all about rehearsing for the Christmas play.  Laura, the year-one teacher, took the director's role with Emelda, the reception teacher, assisting.  Me?  I was trying to wrangle butterflies, but mostly, I was in shock at the impossible notion that a performance of 85 four, five, and six-year-olds could possibly be pulled off.  Now, I know that every year of the 21 years I've been producing Shakespeare plays at Steele I have asserted that this is the year that the Steele Shakespearean Players are not going to pull it off.  And they always do.  Where my goal at Steele is a polished, sophisticated, professional looking performance, the goal for the Christmas play is that 85 squirmy, whiny, restless, chatty, telling-on-each-other, touching-each-other, constantly-having-to-"wee", adorable little tiny kids will know their lines and when to say them, know their songs and when to sing them, stay put, not talk, and not escape.  Yeah, right!

Friday was the gift fair.  Every year each class selects a charity and then makes Christmas crafts to sell at the gift fair, the proceeds of which are donated to all the various charities.  Our class made pot-pourri sachets, gift tags, and rustic cinamon sticks tied up in ribbons.  Each class set up a table in the hall that displayed their crafts.  Eileen said everything would sell out.  I wondered about that.  When the hall was open for business, people flooded in and started purchasing.  To my surprise, every one of our items sold quite quickly, and it was the same for all the other classes!  It was lots of fun, and I was very impressed.  The school has a culture of giving to charity, and it begins with teaching the kids to give.
Very admirable.



Christmas in Chester



quirky characters of Chester

  Ahhh, then came the sweet relief of the weekend.  On Saturday I went to a travel agent and booked my final trip before returning to good ol' Colorado.  Sherry Dorman is coming on Sunday, and when school ends on the 16th, we are taking off for a couple of days in London and another couple of days in Edinburgh, Scotland!  I can't wait!  On Sunday, Eileen and I went to the charming Tudor market town of Chester.  What a beautiful place!  An interesting mix of Tudor and Victorian and contemporary shops along cobblestone streets.  

With only a handful of rehearsals under their belts, none of which were fully successful, Monday was performance day for the Infants.  The dress rehearsal was Monday morning in front of the older students and their teachers.  I had been given the very important job of prop-hander-offer (I handed off the props to the kids as they needed them--the Wise Men's gifts, camels on sticks, etc.).  As the parade of shepherds, angels, Wise Men, sheep, stable animals, and of course, Mary and Joseph entered the hall and took their places, we crossed our fingers (and, I'm sure, some made the sign of the cross), hoping and praying that Laura's incredibly patient tutelage took.  And you know what?  It did!  Amazingly, it did!  The kids remembered their lines and cues (for the most part) and sang when they were supposed to sing and entered and exited in mostly the right places (even if the sheep all forgot to pull their sheep heads up and they dangled down the backs of their fluffy costumes).  Tuesday night's performance for a packed house of camera-wielding parents and grandparents was even better.  There were a few missed cues, one thwarted escape, some voices joyfully singing off-key and at different tempos, and many of the kids spent most of their time on stage standing on tiptoes, straining their necks to catch their parents' eye so that they could wave at them to beat the band, while others totally mugged for the cameras.  But that's the thing about little kids' stage performances--all that stuff is cute and they can get away with it because they are adorably cute.  It's not Shakespeare, but it's cute.  And I never want to do it again.

Ostrich burger, anyone?