woohoo! almost done with London trip posts! :)

Sunday, June 25th:
We attended church again, this time switching groups from the last week. St. Paul’s was a lovely Anglican church, with lovely people. That was where our MBU was held later that afternoon.

However, our MBU was strained. About 100-110 people came. The local Muslim politician did more than secure a Muslim speaker. He also invited a Sikh speaker, a Hindu speaker, and a Jewish speaker. And he didn’t warn anyone of this. Probably because he and P had discussed it all before and P had to get him to agree not to do this, so that it could remain a focused event. The vicar of St. Paul’s was offended at his rudeness in inviting other speakers and vocalized this during the questions time. The politician had also invited the local news to take pictures, etc. It felt more like a political maneuver than anything else.

So the Sikh, the Hindu, and the Jewish guys spoke for 5 minutes each, and then J gave the Christian side (20 minutes), and the imam gave the Muslim side (20 minutes). J did very well, and, to be honest, the imam was a little vague and not-so-helpful. I had a difficult time following all of it, if for no other reason than I was the KeyMaster. :) This meant that I had the key to the sanctuary where the Intercessory Team was praying before and during the event. It was to be kept locked in the event that there was trouble (minor vandalism, disruptions, etc.), which had happened at MBU’s before, whether held at churches or mosques, I think. So I was also the runner, going back and forth from the meeting to the pray-ers, to keep them abreast of things. This allowed them to fine-tune their prayers, covering J as he spoke, praying for peace in the midst of the switch-ups by the politician, and for fruitful conversations after the speakers were done. Kind of fun for me.

It also didn’t help that the politician guy then opened the floor for questions, completely bypassing the “submit your questions in writing via a moderator” system that had been agreed upon. So, during Q&A, we got an upset vicar (rightfully, I think), another white Brit (probably Christian) who angrily called the politician rude to do this, a preaching Muslim man, and a political Muslim instigator. P and the politician acted as moderators, and it took a bit to get all those guys to settle down, and stick to questions about the topic. Finally, though they did, and the discussion was able to finish well.

A halal Asian meal was served and we all ate together.

Several of my classmates had great conversations with Muslims who had attended. As a woman, it was very difficult to find an opportunity to engage with people. There were very few women in attendance, especially from the Muslim side. I don’t know if it was because they were tending to families, or they were not interested in theological debates, or they did not feel welcome, or they feared repercussions, or whatever. I don’t know. So, as a woman, I did not feel comfortable approaching a table that had only men at it. To be clear, it was not that I personally felt uncomfortable. Rather, it was that I didn’t know how these Muslim men would receive such an action. Since my role there was not to provoke, but to seek understanding between the two cultures, I didn’t want to cause unnecessary tension for them.

So I sat with Gloria (my classmate), and talked with a Christian woman from the West Indies, who was very lovely. And that was it. We cleaned up and headed over to J&K’s house to debrief and unwind. We reflected on the MBU, and on our time in S and London. We gave feedback to the missionaries, on both the trip in London (great!) and the process leading up to it (poor, at best). We learned that the missionaries had sent all kinds of information for us prior to the trip, and we had received none of it (frustrating to hear that).

We shared things that we had learned, both intellectually and personally/spiritually. I was touched at how God had worked in several people’s lives over the course of the trip.

Frankly, I think I could live there and do ministry there. :) (a future, perhaps?) we’ll see. :)

Monday, June 26th:
This was to be our last proper day in England, and so we concentrated on things “English”. The pastor of the Baptist church we had attended gave a little talk on “what is an Englishman?”, namely talking about the change that is occurring in “British Identity”.

Then, we went to Windsor. We got our first rainy day of the trip, but even that wasn’t bad. We looked around, saw the castle (the day of?after? the Queen's official birthday) and shopped and bought our little souvenirs. We had a “proper” English meal, of all sorts of roasted meat (delicious) and Yorkshire pudding, and veggies and all that. Very good. All the missionaries were in attendance, and Ad spoke further on how God was showing him more and more about prayer. Again, Very Encouraging. Ad has such a clear and transparent heart for God and also for Muslims. And even though Ad sounded very “spiritual”, I didn’t feel like he was over-doing it, or being flighty, or anything. Very grounded, and yet very reliant on God and the Holy Spirit. Awesome! :)

Tuesday, June 27th:
We packed it all up and were out the door by 6am. Off to Heathrow for our flight home. Nowhere near as bumpy as on the flight over, I was again grateful for the aisle seat (thank you, Jesus!). I did move and sit with Chrissy for a while, packing in 3½ movies (Nanny McPhee, last 20 min of Brokeback (I figured that half would be safe), Rumor Has It, and Tristan & Isolde, snacking on crumpets and chocolate spread (like Nutella, only without the hazelnut flavor). We landed fine, and I was glad that Mr. Vare picked us up and I was able to nap both in his car, and in Brian and Chrissy’s on the way to their house. I napped even more at their house till they threw me out (“Uh, Kristi, it’s 7pm. We’ve unpacked. It’s time for you to go home.”), and made it home just fine.

in short, London was great! :)

Saturday, June 24th:

We divided into 2 groups, and one went into London to an area in East London, and the other went into a rather rough ward to the west of S, both with the intent of doing cultural research for our hosts to help determine whether/how the team should expand their ministries to these areas. My group went to the rough area west of S., known as B (again, trying to protect the work of our hosts). Some of us drove about looking at the shops, businesses, housing, people on the street, etc, looking at how the population has or has not changed (namely, looking for the presence of Muslim/Asian immigration, as that is our hosts’ calling). Others of us went to the library to get stats on B, and how it surfaces in the press, etc. And still others of us worked the ground to get local information – “the word on the street.”

The drivers saw a growing expansion of Asians from the south, and the library group found lots of stuff: namely that B has a bad reputation. B is the kind of place where taxis used to not go there at night. The schools were the worst in the nation about 5 years ago. A movie with Natalie Portman was filmed by a local film studio, set in Eastern Europe. Rather than go to EE, they filmed the run-down, economically impoverished shopping scenes in B. It has that kind of look. But the library folks also found out that people of B feel their reputation is ill-deserved.

We found the same. Bill and Robert walked about, talking to people, and went into the local pub to talk with the folks. They chatted with several people who adored B, even though the reputation is bad.

Jayne and I interviewed about 4 people, 3 of whom allowed us to film them, and they were lovely. One (Christy) owned a hair salon and the other two (Richard and Lorraine) were a couple who owned/ran a butcher shop. These business owners were very positive about B and loved living there. The butcher was my favorite. Richard the Butcher. He had this laugh that made Jayne and I want to hug him. All of them told stories of people who had moved away and since come back to B. And how they couldn’t say too much bad about the area, even though people expected them to do so.

Then we all gathered back together to compile our information and make a presentation to P&L. We all gave a thumbs up with ideas about how to do the ministry/outreach. My personal thoughts are that the Muslim population will migrate to B eventually en masse, if for economic reasons, if nothing else, and that any ministry currently to this area will have to include programming for teens and babies, since a huge trend is single, teen girls having babies.

The group in East London, meanwhile, saw a huge population of Muslims and also gave a thumbs up to ministry in that area.

Friday, June 23rd:
Today was my group’s London Day. This meant that we traipsed out to London (I always love going into London!) with 3 destinations on order: the British Museum, The British Library, and the London Central Mosque. We had assignments for the Museum and the Library, and were just supposed to experience the mosque.

For the Museum, we were supposed to look at a few particular artifacts, such as the Rosetta Stone, an obelisk that depicts Zedekiah (the last king of Judah?) bowing to the Assyrian rulers, and a Philistinian relief showing evidence of Dagon, the fish god, among other things. The point of this visit was to take advantage of the opportunity to see real artifacts of the Ancient Near East that support the stories told in the Bible. The existence of these items definitely support the veracity of the Bible, I have to say. And yet, it is still a loaded subject. But more on that shortly.

Like wise, the point of the visit to the British Library was to specifically look at the Bible Collection they have there. There were many Bibles that we looked at, but we were especially supposed to see the Codex Sinaiticus, one of the earliest manuscripts of the complete New Testament and parts of the Old Testament, among others.

The point in this, aside from the obvious personal enrichment of going to see an historical collection, was to see evidence of proof that the Bible we use today is the same as the Bible early Christians used. This is particularly important in debates and discussions with Muslims, since many/most claim or have been taught that the Bible of Christians and Jews is corrupted and thus not reliable. Therefore, they won’t read it or listen to any reasoning based on it.

However, the Koranic Book (or Surah) of Jonah tells the devoted Muslim to consult with Jews and Christians for wisdom: “[10.94] But if you are in doubt as to what We have revealed to you, ask those who read the Book before you; certainly the truth has come to you from your Lord, therefore you should not be of the disputers.” Thus, according to Muslim hermeneutics, what is written in the Koran is Allah’s word and trustworthy (much like in Christianity).

Now if you ask a Muslim to tell you when the Bible was corrupted, they usually don’t have an answer. But if pressed, given the option “before or after Mohammed,” (the only designation that matters) they will pick one, and then they are stuck. Because if it is before Mohammed, then you ask why a trustworthy Allah would tell Muslims to consult an already corrupted book; and if they pick “after Mohammed”, then you direct them to the British Library. Because in the British Library is proof that the Bibles in use before Mohammed are word-for-word identical to the texts in use after Mohammed and identical to the texts from which our current Bibles are translated. Which means that they still aren’t corrupted.

So the Library was lovely. As was the Museum. However, my classmate, Dean, and I had a long conversation about how the Museum was/is a dangerous place to send people to prove the Bible’s veracity. It’s nothing to do with there being evidence of Biblical truth. The problem comes in the meta-message that the very museum carries with it: Blatant Imperialism. Room after room is proof and evidence that the British went into other lands and countries and blatantly took (we commonly call it “stealing”) artifacts for display in Britain. And Britain refuses to give them back (“Finders Keepers” and all).

Now don’t mistake me. If Americans had been there first, I’m sure we would have done the same (I’m sure we have, too, sadly). And I think most any other country would, were it in the same position. But to parade Imperialism to people with a difficult and subjugated past history with Britain as proof of Christianity is potentially damaging to the relationship-building and conversion process, ya know? It was fascinating and sad all at the same time.

So on to the Mosque.

Friday is the prayer day, in which more people attend mosque than any other day of the week. There is also a “sermon” of sorts, in addition to prayer. Thus, more women attend than on other days of the week. We had been warned that the group to go on Friday would have a different experience than any of the other groups because of this. Now, mind you, two of the groups to go before us had had a lovely time. However, one group had encountered a Muslim worshipper who, in his conversation with them, had begun to speak of how he no longer forgives, and how the West can never repay or atone for what they had done in the Middle East, and that he, personally, would see to vengeance, even if it meant the deaths of 100 people, 1,000 people, 100,000 or 1 million people. Needless to say, that group did not get to receive Korans, or have time to talk to a real mosque rep. They just politely excused themselves and got out as fast as they could.

So this was on our minds as we walked to the mosque. Lisa and I were the only women in the group of seven, and we were prepared with scarves to cover our hair for entrance (required). Once inside the gates, there was a man directing Lisa and I to the women’s entrance and prayer room (the red path in my diagram), off to the side, while the guys went forward (noted in my diagram with a yellow circle). The place was packed, with a wide open courtyard, also filled with lines and lines of kneeling men.

The women’s area was small and seemed more like just “the side of the building”. There were some women milling about in the grass/yard there, watching small children. I was internally indignant at first, until I saw the entrance to the women’s prayer room. It was up some stairs, and was already packed. (shown in my diagram, outlined by light blue. It was on the second floor, overlooking the “sanctuary” of the men’s area). Lisa and I made our way up, taking our shoes off, to kneel/sit in the hallway outside of the prayer room with other women who couldn’t fit into the prayer room. Even though Lisa and I had our heads covered, we still stood out, due to our clothes. The other women were well covered with flowing fabrics in long sleeves, dresses, tunics, and trousers. Lisa and I were both wearing jeans or khakis and short-sleeved shirts (sleeveless shirts were strictly forbidden). There were other white women there, presumably British, but they, too, were dressed like the other women. An older Somali woman got us a copy of the “sermon” in English, with verses in English and Arabic. It was about the Sincerity of Works.

The problem with this sermon copy, for me, came in the fact that there were Arabic verses from the Koran on it. Personally, it would have meant little to nothing to me. However, to a Muslim, the Arabic verses are holy and to put them on the ground or throw them away would be desecration and sacrilege. So I couldn’t put it down or crumple it or throw it away within the mosque. It was virtually impossible for me to put my shoes on later and tie them while clutching this piece of paper. While keeping my headcovering on. Very tough. But Lisa and I made it. We were shoo-ed out when the imam stopped talking and the women stood to pray. I’m not sure if it was because we couldn’t be there, or if the woman just knew that we wouldn’t be praying, but she shoo-ed us out and down to put our shoes on.

After prayer was over, the entire place vacated in about 20 minutes. Lisa and I began to look for the guys from our group. We retraced our steps to the point where we had been separated from them (the green line). But we weren’t sure where we, as women, were allowed to go. So we got to that point and then discussed, “Can we go into the covered walkway? Oooh! There’s a woman on the covered walkway. Let’s go!” (the pink line). Then, “Can we go into the courtyard? Oooh! There’s a woman on the courtyard. Let’s go!” (the purple line). Then Lisa reminded me not to meet the eyes of any man. Shoot! Eyes down! Where are those guys?!?!?!

Then we discussed whether we were allowed inside the Mosque building proper. “Can we go in there? Oooh! There’s a woman coming out. Let’s go!” (the reddish-brown line). No guys. Where are they?? We saw a sign for the library on the second floor, and thought, “Can we go up to the library? Oooh! There’s a woman coming down from the library. Let’s go!” (the peach line).

Once up there, we saw the guys, sitting, gathered around a Muslim man, in a auditorium-like setting. I felt free to just go up to them, but Lisa stopped me, “I don’t think we can approach them while he is talking.” Dang it! So I approached a woman up there, and she said, “yes, sure!” So we approached, and the man got up and pulled out chairs for us (the light yellow line). Another man approached and handed out Korans to each of us. I wanted to only take one, but he held out 2 Korans, telling me to take one for a friend. I tried not to take it. I politely protested. He just stood silently with the books extended to me. And waited. Until I took them. We all took multiple Korans. That time killed me. The man speaking with us was nice and congenial, but it was awful, as a woman. Lisa and I just sat there silently, not looking anyone in the eye. Our feet flat on the ground (showing the sole of your foot is very disrespectful). Tugging at our headcoverings to make sure they were covering our hair. Hands crossed, resting on the Koran (anxious I’ll drop it – setting it on the ground – sacrilege!). Stiff posture. Definitely not liking being there. The man finished talking (I have no idea what he said. Too busy tugging on my headcovering) and shook hands with the men (touching someone of the opposite sex who is not related or married to you is haram (forbidden)), wishing us well.

We followed him downstairs, and he showed us a picture of Mecca, resplendent with pilgrims, millions of them. As he led some of the other guys into the “sanctuary,” Bill cracks a joke to me, under his breath, “What is that? Wembley Stadium?” I almost died. I turned to Bill, and asked him to “Stop. Please, just stop. For me.” “I don’t think anyone else heard me–” “Bill, for me. Please. You have no idea what I’m going through. You are in the majority [as a man]. I am not. Please. For me.” He agreed and stopped, but I couldn’t wait to get out of there. I’d say that it was definitely beyond “out of my comfort zone.” Yikes. I bee-lined it out of there, and took my headcovering off as soon as possible. Icky. All of it.

We made it back to S in time to attend the Urdu homegroup that is associated with the team in S. The group is made up of Urdu-speaking Christians (Urdu is commonly spoken in Pakistan, and most of these people were Pakistani Christians before immigrating to the UK). The group gets 30-100 people every week. It was pretty swell to be there with them. There was worship in the beginning, with traditional (I think) songs/hymns sung in both English and Urdu. They shared praises and prayer requests, and then had a friendly group quiz/competition on a passage they were studying. A special guest, an Anglican priest originally from Pakistan, gave the sermon, and then we all shared an Asian meal together (again, “Asian” denotes Indian, Pakistani, or Bangledeshi, and not Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, etc). Very lovely.

So, on to Thursday, June 22st:
Thursday

Today had us back in the program. My group went to Tooting Bec, to meet with Ad&R and G&J. They are doing ministry with Muslims in that area, and Ad is actually the team leader for the missionaries here. Ad&R and G&J told us a lot about day-to-day ministry with Muslims, much like P&L and J&K in S.

However, G&J are themselves Asian, and G was formerly a Hindu, though not from India, and Ad&R are Swiss. So that means that Ad talks like Arnold Schwarzenegger. And when he sing-songs “Tooting” lots of us giggle internally. But enough of that.

Both couples have learned a lot about ministering to Muslims in all walks of life. While we got a more moderate view of Muslims from A in Whitechapel, here in Tooting Bec, we heard of the difficulties of Muslim male-female interactions, honor killings, bait-and-switch conversions to Islam, and acceptable ways to interpret the Koran. Ad gave us Bible studies that could be used with Muslims, looking at Koranic scriptures referring to Jesus. It was pretty interesting, and very useful.

A lot of the cultural information was good, but somewhat repetitive for me, if only because of my own cultural upbringing and current surroundings. What I mean by that, is that growing up in the South, especially with an older father, has meant that I grew up with a slightly different take on life, culture and “proper” behavior. I’ve always called people Sir and Ma’am, Mr., Mrs., and Miss, and feel awkward (even still) calling people older than me by their first names. This fits well with Asian sensibilities about formality and cultural etiquette.

But I’ve also been brought up with the idea that once I was an adult, I was responsible for my own decisions and actions. My parents could add their “two cents”, but I could do what I wanted. This is different from most Asian cultures in which parents and grandparents still make decisions that children (regardless of age) are expected to heed. Families live together, spanning several generations, and not just because of economics or health needs. My parents’ measure of their parenting success has been whether or not my brother and I could survive on our own. They considered their goal to be making my brother and I capable of being independent. This has good and bad points, which, as I think of it, are a great topic for another blog post! :)

But while my own upbringing has emphasized independence, many of my Asian-American friends here in Baltimore grew up in families in which parental decisions and opinions are more mandates than advice. Though I don’t always agree, I’ve learned that it isn’t necessarily wrong, just different. What has been difficult has been to help my friends navigate their relationships with their parents in respectful ways, especially when they feel and hear God calling them to something that their parents don’t understand and/or agree with. I don’t always do that well with my own parents, much less with parents who aren’t mine, so I haven’t always been helpful, and try to listen more than anything else. However, these experiences have meant that the cultural norms of the Muslims with whom Ad&R and G&J work are no surprise to me.

What was most helpful were the Bible Studies and the ways in which Christianity meets needs and answers questions for Muslims. Ad&R and G&J are so transparent about their reliance on the Holy Spirit for their work. I think that because evidence of progress or fruit is so slow-in-coming that they have long ago realized that they can do nothing on their own. Or at least that they make no progress on their own. Rather, it is only God who can move and change hearts, people, systems, and worlds. I was also encouraged by Ad’s sharing his own spiritual walk in the area of prayer, and I am so glad that God has been showing Himself to Ad in this way; that God really wants us to pray and that He wants to act in conjunction with our prayers. So encouraging.

We were done early in Tooting Bec, so I headed back over to the hair salon to get my new haircut trimmed. The woman who cut my hair was not there, so I was slipped in with a woman who was also doing a dye job on another woman. Since it was a bit busier today, it was all they could do. I enjoyed this stylist so much! I wish I had asked her name, but I never did. She was so nice and did just what I wanted with my hair. She was Italian, but had moved to London about 4 years prior just to work on her English. (Italy was playing that day, in the World Cup, so her boyfriend was popping in and out with the score.) She was kept rolling her eyes and quietly commenting on an annoying client who had come into the shop, acting as if she were friends with everyone. Turns out the young woman was newly rich (married into money, I think?) and flaunted it all the time. My stylist was annoyed with her loud and tacky announcements of her trips to the US and elsewhere, her possessions, and her trivial activities. What floored me was that this woman had come in with wet hair (I think with leave-in conditioner), just to have her hair blow-dried out. That was it. It wasn’t even styled. (it was fairly long, though.)

It was interesting in two ways: first it gave me an insight to what was acceptable behavior to my stylist (as an Italian-living-in-London, as a European, as an employee), and second, it made me wonder how lonely that client must have been to come in to have her hair blow-dried telling all her inane stories.

I made it back to S in time to attend a meeting preparing us for the MBU (Meeting for Better Understanding) that the team was hosting on Sunday. The MBU is to be a meeting in which Muslims and Christians come together to hear a speaker from each group discuss the same topic. The topic this time is “the Honor of the Prophets,” especially in light of the Danish cartoons that depicted Mohammed in a less than favorable light. J (of J&K) is to be our speaker, and a local official, who is also a Muslim, is responsible for securing the Muslim speaker. We talked about how we should act, what we should expect, ways to debate, and what to avoid. The format is to be: J speaks, the Muslim man speaks, J responds briefly, the Muslim man responds briefly, and then questions are to be submitted in writing (via a moderator) to the two men. The written questions are actually a way of screening inflammatory remarks and off-topic questions. I guess past MBU’s have allowed people to stand up and then preach their viewpoint rather than ask a pertinent question. Or people have stood and denounced the other side or accused them of something (again, not helpful). Or people have raised a political issue that is, by nature, sticky and complicated. (also, not helpful). It should be fun!

After I got back to our room, i called my parents to wish them a Happy Anniversary (34 years today) and my Dad a Happy Birthday (75 today!!!). My dad wasn't there, but i got to talk with my mom. Turns out my dad has been having some cloudy vision problems, and went to the eye doctor this morning, only to discover that the membrane behind his eye had grown cloudy. So they "shot a few holes" into the membrane with a laser (18 shots according to my dad. He likes to count those details for the story later) this morning, and he's out gallivanting, as he is wont to do. Whew! it's not like i could do anything if i were in Baltimore, but it just makes me feel bad that they couldn't call me easily to tell me if anything was really wrong.

Well, folks, I am back. I've been back since Tuesday, 27 June, evening, and just trying to get back in the swing of things. I'm pretty much there. I've been back at work since Thursday, and am almost myself. I did have class again, on Saturday, so that has slowed my return to normalcy. But, i am here to finish my blogging about London, and then to relate my reflecting on the the trip and where i am with things.

So, on to Wednesday, June 21st:

Wednesday

Today was our day off – our tourist day. Chrissie had done a fair amount of reading up on things to do in London, and J&K had also suggested one of those big red double-decker bus tours. Though pricey, it proved to be a great thing. It allowed us to make it all over London, seeing the sites and the monuments without hoofing it all over the city on our already tired and stressed out feet. Jayne had a great point in favor of the tour, namely that we could walk all over the city and see the sites, but if we took the Tube, which was easy for us to navigate, we’d miss the sites, and if we took the regular bus, we’d lose enormous amounts of time trying to navigate the system – and either way, we’d have no idea what we were looking at half the time, or why it was important. And the big bonus? It came with a free ticket for a little river cruise up or down the Thames. It was swell over all. Terry, Jayne, family Vare, and myself stuck together the entire time, with some of our classmates joining/leaving us at various points along the way.

We got off the bus for the Tower of London tour, which was fascinating. The Tower of London is more like the Fortress of London. It’s the old-school locale of royal safety. There are still 34 guards (Yeoman Warders, aka Beefeaters) who live inside the Tower with their families. The gates get shut at midnight and no one goes in or out until the morning. I was able to trot out the only date I can remember from any history class in my educational life: 1066, the Battle of Hastings, Invasion of England by William the Conqueror. (I do have 0 BC/AD for Jesus’s birthday, and a supposed 33AD for his death, but most westerners have that too). But other than that, I can’t recall the fall of Jerusalem, the fall of Rome, Martin Luther’s theses, nothing.

Regardless, the Tower was where people were imprisoned (usually of royal leanings) and some executed (Anne Boylen (sp?)). A Beefeater led the tour and it was lots of fun! We also got to see the crown jewels – stunning!

We then caught that boat ride down the Thames (or was it up? I dunno), and again, the weather was fantastic, clear and bright, with no rain, and not too cold or hot. The whole day it was like this and the boat ride was no different. Just perfect weather!

Big Ben, the London Eye (an enormous Ferris wheel), Westminster, Parliament, all of it was great and easily seen from the river. Just brilliant! (I’m working that into my vocabulary, now)

We landed and strolled along to Westminster. A few of us weren’t up for a £12 entry ticket to tour it, so me, Bob and Terry walked around while the others toured Westminster. We all met up again an hour later, and walked to Trafalgar Square, looking for a place to have affordable dinner. We ended up at a pub, The Silver Cross, and each had yummy and affordable food.

Sidenote: The exchange rate has been something to contend with over here. The exchange rate is about $1.93 to £1. So, it’s about double. The problem is, the prices are about the same, but after the exchange rate, it costs us Americans double. Like, you’ll see a sign for a sandwich in a pub or restaurant: £6, or a small latte for £2. And you think, “reasonable.” And then you do the exchange in your head, and that means $12 for a ham sandwich and $4 for a small latte: “not so reasonable.” One Londoner was relating a story, namely that his friend had just returned from New York City, saying how cheap NYC was!

So those of y’all who donated to my personal bank account to help keep me afloat during my time away, you can be assured that I didn’t go shopping on your dollar! :) I only bought what I had to, seeing that most things weren’t worth the price.

After dinner, we were going to try to head over to St. Mary’s for their Wednesday night “Jam Session,” but everyone else was tired. You know me, I was dying to stay in London as much as possible. “hey guys! Let’s stay in London later!” “hey y’all! Let’s go to London!” But most of my classmates were wiser and said things like, “No.” (I say wiser because they know that if they don’t get enough sleep, they are tired, cranky and slow the next day.)

So back to S., and a good night’s sleep (except Jayne claims that I made her stay up late and watch Whale Rider. Whatever. She is a grown woman who can put herself to bed anytime she wants. And it was a great movie.)