Haven't written anything in forever. This means that this one's going to be a long one...
I learnt two things this week.
1) I'm a snob. Not of the obvious Frasier sort, but I *am* a snob.
2) I was right in the assessment that Leicester is actually quite good. I learnt this through three sub-things:
a) Leicester can be classified as a red-brick university.
b) It's actually not unusual for some Brits to aspire to attend a red-brick.
c) Leicester's really good for Criminology.
Coming from a country where there's only a handful of recognized unis, 'red-brick' turns out to have been a notion that was rather ungraspable until I actually encountered it. One university may be better at one thing than another (like Erasmus University Rotterdam being famously good at Economics and Business, like Nyenrode but without the private uni fees) but in general Dutch unis hold up well against one another.
Some ancient unis here in Britain are obviously really very good, consistently placing in the top five of pretty much any Higher Education list. My snobbery acknowledged that those were better than Dutch unis, but then also had this weird sense of what I can only term as foreign student syndrome: loving the country that you're studying in but somehow always comparing things to the way they are back "home"*. I sometimes have my doubts about the quality of Dutch unis and had figured that as Leicester is not an ancient uni, it must somehow be similar to a Dutch uni and somehow therefore be a bit questionable at times. My snobbery at its worst, I thought.
I still can't compare it to a Dutch uni; however, so far Leicester has only pleasantly surprised me. In fact, as it turned out in a discussion the other day, Leicester is in the top three for Criminology programmes in all of the UK. I should really, really not be a snob about unis.
I should not be a snob at all - I visited Her Majesty's Prison Grendon on Friday for their University day and while there I noticed some kids from Oxford, and I was feeling snobbish towards them. Not jealousy or resentment, which I know and sort of would've understood because I do tend to get that way, but actual snobbery: "look at those toffs, acting all like they own the world" - I felt better than them somehow because I'm middle class (at best). It kind of freaked me out a bit.
UPDATE: I don't mean that Oxford students are by nature toffs. I just mean that I scared myself by judging them without knowing them.
HMP Grendon itself was... I said 'lovely' to one of the officers there when he asked what I thought of the visit, and lovely of course isn't the right word. I meant to say fascinating or wonderfully educational or whatever works better, but I meant lovely as in the sense it's lovely to see that Grendon has at least some sort of positive effect on it's inmates and it was just so interesting to talk to some of them.
Grendon is a therapeutic facility and unique in its kind. There's four categories of prison in Britain: Cat A, which is high-security with highly dangerous inmates, Cat B, which is "regular" high security, Cat C, medium, and Cat D, open prison. Grendon is a Cat B but has a staff:prisoner ratio of 1:2 (instead of the normal 1:25) and all staff is trained in doing therapeutic stuff with the inmates and the inmates have group sessions every day to learn from one another. Sounds very touchy-feely-"geitenwollensokken" but seeing as the average reconviction rate of regular offenders is about half and that of dangerous offenders near 70%, and Grendon gets the dangerous offenders rate back down to about half, then that seems like a sign that it works.
It's of course very expensive, though, so it all depends on whether it's actually cost-effective.
It's a long drive from here to Grendon, though, almost two hours. The department had arranged for us to be picked up by a taxi no less (!) at 7am and we were back in Leicester around 5pm, and it was a very exhausting day - despite our driver putting on Happy Feet on the way back, we were all solidly asleep by the time we'd gotten back North of the Watford Gap.
Spent the weekend writing.
Finished my practice essay, hope it's good.
Finished (finally) my Dorian Gray Pala Conference Proceedings Paper Thing, handed that in on Monday. That means never any more stylistic analyses of a literary thing (my plan for next year is to write about threats in The Godfather, which is stylistics but not just literature), or at least, that's what it would mean if I would be able to let go. I'm not, so I'm afraid that at one point or another in my future I'll go back to this paper, rewrite it (again - that would be the 4th full rewrite and the ... 21st, I think, revision) and just continuously add more stuff to it. Make it proper. And then once, one day, when it reaches 100,000 words and I can finally let go of it, somehow figure out a way to have it recognized as, whatever, an independent PhD or something. That'd be my second PhD then (seeing as I'm still fully intending on doing a Criminology PhD after my master's)... lol, Dr. Dr.. (Just speculating here, I don't think I'll bring Dorian Gray to the full 100,000 words before I'm truly fed up with him...also, I don't think I'm particularly keen on a doctorate in Stylistics, because what in the name of our dearest good Lord would I do with it?)
Celebrated Halloween/Paper Handin with Ruth and Madison on Monday. That was nice. I wore my red corset and grey dress and powdered my face white and red lipstick and had fangs that kept falling out so I was something of a vampire.
Was informed of having an interview for a job with the uni library next week. Good. I like libraries and work's work. Fingers crossed and all that.
OOH! And I'm happy now because last week my Understanding Crime seminar group (well, every seminar group really...) got told off by our instructor for not looking at empirical papers to back up our opinions on rational choice theory and classical criminology etc., so I'd spent quite some time this week trying to find relevant empirical papers, loved the idea of the MAOA genetic variation that in conjunction with childhood maltreatment can cause adult criminal behaviour so looked up loads of papers on that and this week we were told that we'd done very well, so that's very nice. The essay assignments for this course have been put up this week and I'd real trouble picking out one of the four options for Understanding Crime, but seeing as somehow I managed to be fascinated by the MAOA deficiency research I may choose the one option that makes us compare 10 years of biological criminology with 50 years of sociological criminology, which is actually the one option that appealed to me the least when I first looked at the essay topics. It's also the option with which you're absolutely sure you'll be spending all of Christmas and New Year in the library, just reading every single research output in Criminology and the related fields of the last 50 years. In a sense, I guess, then, it's also the most relevant option, considering I still want to go on and teach Criminology in the future, and reading loads of research is hopefully going to give me so much background info I'll resemble something of a cataract whenever one of my future students asks me a question...
UPDATE: Informed both my parents I won't be home for Christmas. They took it remarkably well.
*I hate the word 'home'. Couldn't use it properly in RA because was my home in Oostvoorne, Hellevoetsluis or Middelburg? In Middelburg, home was Hellevoetsluis; in Hellevoetsluis/Oostvoorne, home was Oostvoorne/Hellevoetsluis or Middelburg, depending on context. Can't use it now either. Also because I'm suffering from another symptom of foreign student syndrome: missing stuff from "home" but actually not wanting to go "home" at all (going so far as to actively avoid any requirement to go "home"). Home is where the heart is, but what if your heart has been stretched to cover a multitude of places?
Wednesday 31 October 2012
Wednesday 24 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Ethnography
I'm starting to feel a familiar feeling that I've missed more than I thought I could over the last five months. I feel like I'm working.
Most people I've talked to always said that Master's programmes are so incredibly light when you've done RA. As a response to that, I can only offer three possible reasons for why I'm feeling like this: 1) RA wasn't as tough as it was presented to us and as we presented it to ourselves; 2) the Leicester Criminology programme is good; 3) I'm not as clever as I'd have liked to think myself to be.
The optimist in me prefers 2). I think it's the correct one, too... it's not necessarily a difficult programme, because you'd assume by the time you've completed a social sciences bachelor, social sciences graduate programmes are just a continuation (undergrad: learn theory; postgrad: apply theory; doctorate: create theory, that sort of continuation), but it's actually a lot of reading. And I'm very happy with that, because now I feel like I'm accomplishing something again.
Today was fun. We covered ethnography in Criminological Research Methods, and I loved it. I didn't do qualitative methods in undergrad, just quantitative, and I didn't think I could find a research method that's so... me. One of my undergraduate law papers was criticized for employing too much of a literary style in my writing, and the instructor for my class today basically said that you have to put something of yourself in that research but that you do have to acknowledge your subjectivity. That you have to be descriptive. And that you have to be something of a journalist. He told us brilliant stories of when he'd done ethnographic research into football hooliganism. Afterwards I had my first CRM workshop, in which we designed and even carried out a proper sort of basic quantitative research by doing small interviews (10 questions, short answers) and we'll carry on with it next week. It was just so much fun, I mean... our research question was "to what extent are public perceptions of female sex offenders shaped by representations of the written news media?", and we got to interview course mates and then put everything in Word and we'll carry on with it next week.
I normally prefer quantitative research because you've got the numbers there and can mess around with values and variables and see whether the outcome changes when you change this or that factor, but, of course, it's lacking the actual human element. I like reducing things to variables and values and treating it all as a sort of economic function, but instead of figuring out how many employees you need to have for this result or how changing the monetary input changes that result, it's more like "if I change this detail, what does the actual situation end up being like?". I've mainly taken to seeing stylistics/literary linguistics/literary analysis this way, as in, "if I were to change this word into that word (because words are simply input values too), or change that sentence structure into that one (because sentence structures are just a different variable, and the specific options are just values), or have it read as an ebook instead of a real book (because media are also a variable, and the types are values), how does this change the reader's perception/experience?". It's a very orderly way of seeing the world. But it's not complete, and certainly not fully correct. Ethnography can help, and I'll probably feel the same about other qualitative methods too once I'm introduced to them. In fact, I guess ethnography is necessary in some cases to find out the actual values/variables. After all, you can't know the factors that make criminal subcultures act the way they do if you don't jump in there and talk to them to figure out what actually drives them. Otherwise, of course, you're just messing about in the dark with some bits of theory that may be unfounded but work so well to explain something, and that's hardly good scholarship.
Most people I've talked to always said that Master's programmes are so incredibly light when you've done RA. As a response to that, I can only offer three possible reasons for why I'm feeling like this: 1) RA wasn't as tough as it was presented to us and as we presented it to ourselves; 2) the Leicester Criminology programme is good; 3) I'm not as clever as I'd have liked to think myself to be.
The optimist in me prefers 2). I think it's the correct one, too... it's not necessarily a difficult programme, because you'd assume by the time you've completed a social sciences bachelor, social sciences graduate programmes are just a continuation (undergrad: learn theory; postgrad: apply theory; doctorate: create theory, that sort of continuation), but it's actually a lot of reading. And I'm very happy with that, because now I feel like I'm accomplishing something again.
Today was fun. We covered ethnography in Criminological Research Methods, and I loved it. I didn't do qualitative methods in undergrad, just quantitative, and I didn't think I could find a research method that's so... me. One of my undergraduate law papers was criticized for employing too much of a literary style in my writing, and the instructor for my class today basically said that you have to put something of yourself in that research but that you do have to acknowledge your subjectivity. That you have to be descriptive. And that you have to be something of a journalist. He told us brilliant stories of when he'd done ethnographic research into football hooliganism. Afterwards I had my first CRM workshop, in which we designed and even carried out a proper sort of basic quantitative research by doing small interviews (10 questions, short answers) and we'll carry on with it next week. It was just so much fun, I mean... our research question was "to what extent are public perceptions of female sex offenders shaped by representations of the written news media?", and we got to interview course mates and then put everything in Word and we'll carry on with it next week.
I normally prefer quantitative research because you've got the numbers there and can mess around with values and variables and see whether the outcome changes when you change this or that factor, but, of course, it's lacking the actual human element. I like reducing things to variables and values and treating it all as a sort of economic function, but instead of figuring out how many employees you need to have for this result or how changing the monetary input changes that result, it's more like "if I change this detail, what does the actual situation end up being like?". I've mainly taken to seeing stylistics/literary linguistics/literary analysis this way, as in, "if I were to change this word into that word (because words are simply input values too), or change that sentence structure into that one (because sentence structures are just a different variable, and the specific options are just values), or have it read as an ebook instead of a real book (because media are also a variable, and the types are values), how does this change the reader's perception/experience?". It's a very orderly way of seeing the world. But it's not complete, and certainly not fully correct. Ethnography can help, and I'll probably feel the same about other qualitative methods too once I'm introduced to them. In fact, I guess ethnography is necessary in some cases to find out the actual values/variables. After all, you can't know the factors that make criminal subcultures act the way they do if you don't jump in there and talk to them to figure out what actually drives them. Otherwise, of course, you're just messing about in the dark with some bits of theory that may be unfounded but work so well to explain something, and that's hardly good scholarship.
Tuesday 23 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Change of Plans
Right, so I emailed the people down in Kent that run the DCGC programme from there, to ask whether I could still sign up if my MSc ends in September.
They said no, and encouraged me to try for summer 2014. That means waiting for a year.
So now I've been looking into other PhD programmes, to see whether they've got any funding and whether I can start in 2013. It's a tough one.
I've looked at Oxford, but unfortunately Oxford only offers Studentships for EU students that cover the fees, and I'm not sure whether that also includes any college fees but either way, I'd still have to take out many, many loans to do that.
Of course I've also looked at Cambridge. That one might just work, if they have supervisors who would be interested in my research. It's quite difficult to figure out what their professors are interested in supervising, though. I'm going to give it a shot.
Leicester offers studentships commencing this January. Sucks. I can only hope they offer the same next year, but that would mean starting in January 2014. That's a half-year's wait.
I should start looking into other programmes, though on the other hand I should not begin to worry about this until after I've finished revising Dorian Gray because if I don't I'll have too much on my mind.
But there's two things I'm dead set on: I want to do my PhD in Britain preferably, and only in the Netherlands if I really have to. Other countries may still be a viable option if I can't find anything decent here. In any case, I don't want to go back to the Netherlands, not just now. Maybe some time in the future, if I find employment there as a university instructor or as a secondary school maatschappijwetenschappen-teacher. But I might just have to.
And maybe I get lucky and get a teaching or research position for, say, 10 months after graduation and then still get accepted fully funded for the DCGC programme. The only thing that then still bothers me is the fact that I'll get my PhD at 26 rather than 25. I think that's something I can get over.
Quite difficult to grasp the idea that my father was right when he said that I should keep in mind that there are always limits.
They said no, and encouraged me to try for summer 2014. That means waiting for a year.
So now I've been looking into other PhD programmes, to see whether they've got any funding and whether I can start in 2013. It's a tough one.
I've looked at Oxford, but unfortunately Oxford only offers Studentships for EU students that cover the fees, and I'm not sure whether that also includes any college fees but either way, I'd still have to take out many, many loans to do that.
Of course I've also looked at Cambridge. That one might just work, if they have supervisors who would be interested in my research. It's quite difficult to figure out what their professors are interested in supervising, though. I'm going to give it a shot.
Leicester offers studentships commencing this January. Sucks. I can only hope they offer the same next year, but that would mean starting in January 2014. That's a half-year's wait.
I should start looking into other programmes, though on the other hand I should not begin to worry about this until after I've finished revising Dorian Gray because if I don't I'll have too much on my mind.
But there's two things I'm dead set on: I want to do my PhD in Britain preferably, and only in the Netherlands if I really have to. Other countries may still be a viable option if I can't find anything decent here. In any case, I don't want to go back to the Netherlands, not just now. Maybe some time in the future, if I find employment there as a university instructor or as a secondary school maatschappijwetenschappen-teacher. But I might just have to.
And maybe I get lucky and get a teaching or research position for, say, 10 months after graduation and then still get accepted fully funded for the DCGC programme. The only thing that then still bothers me is the fact that I'll get my PhD at 26 rather than 25. I think that's something I can get over.
Quite difficult to grasp the idea that my father was right when he said that I should keep in mind that there are always limits.
Monday 22 October 2012
Writing: Poems
I'd like to share some poems with you, some of my favourites.
The first is Italian, and I just love the cadence of the words as well as what they mean. I've tried in the past to do a translation; my Italian is a little rusty, but I think I got by well. It was written by Gabriele d'Annunzio.
O falce di luna calante
Che brilli su l'acque deserte
O falce d'argento, qual mèsse di sogni
Ondeggia al tuo mite chiarore qua giù!
Aneliti brevi di foglie
Sospiri di foiri dal bosco
Esalano al mare: non canto, non grido
Non suono pe 'l vasto silenzio va.
Oppresso d'amor, di piacere
Il popol de vivi s'addorme
O falce calante, qual mèsse di sogni
Ondeggia al tuo mite chiarore qua giù!
Roughly translated it means something like
Oh sickle of the glittering moon
That shines over deserted waters
Oh silver sickle, whose harvest of dreams
Waves down here under your gentle light!
Brief desires of leaves
Sigh from flower to forest
And exhale at sea: I sing not, I cry not
No sound breaks the vast silences.
Oppressed by love and peace
The people of life fall asleep
Oh glittering sickle, whose harvest of dreams
Waves down here under your gentle light!
As you can see, if you have any grasp of Italian, I had some issues with the first two-and-a-half lines of the second stanza, but that does not make the poem any less pretty.
I have a thing for mild, descriptive poems, especially when they feature landscapes that tell us something about people, or landscapes which are used as a metaphor for human actions. Take for instance my two favourite English language poems (which are terribly well-known, I know, but still), Daffodils and Ozymandias. The first, of course, is by William Wordsworth; the second, of course, by Percy Bysshe Shelley, husband of Mary Shelley (who of course wrote Frankenstein, one of my favourite Gothic novels also because I don't enjoy Dracula. I do enjoy Polidori's The Vampyre, though, so perhaps I should just stick to stories written by those having attended the 1816 meeting at Byron's house in Geneva for Gothic literature...).
Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils
I especially like the phrase 'flash upon that inward eye' because I know what he means, and also how pleasant it is to just walk (I can't wait for the Heidelberg conference to put on some hiking boots and just taking off into the German hills... who cares about academics when you've got trees and flowers).
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".
Denkend aan Holland
zie ik breede rivieren
traag door oneindig
laagland gaan,
rijen ondenkbaar
ijle populieren
als hooge pluimen
aan den einder staan;
en in de geweldige
ruimte verzonken
de boerderijen
verspreid door het land,
boomgroepen, dorpen,
geknotte torens,
kerken en olmen
in een grootsch verband.
de lucht hangt er laag
en de zon wordt er langzaam
in grijze veelkleurige
dampen gesmoord,
en in alle gewesten
wordt de stem van het water
met zijn eeuwige rampen
gevreesd en gehoord.
The first is Italian, and I just love the cadence of the words as well as what they mean. I've tried in the past to do a translation; my Italian is a little rusty, but I think I got by well. It was written by Gabriele d'Annunzio.
O falce di luna calante
Che brilli su l'acque deserte
O falce d'argento, qual mèsse di sogni
Ondeggia al tuo mite chiarore qua giù!
Aneliti brevi di foglie
Sospiri di foiri dal bosco
Esalano al mare: non canto, non grido
Non suono pe 'l vasto silenzio va.
Oppresso d'amor, di piacere
Il popol de vivi s'addorme
O falce calante, qual mèsse di sogni
Ondeggia al tuo mite chiarore qua giù!
Roughly translated it means something like
Oh sickle of the glittering moon
That shines over deserted waters
Oh silver sickle, whose harvest of dreams
Waves down here under your gentle light!
Brief desires of leaves
Sigh from flower to forest
And exhale at sea: I sing not, I cry not
No sound breaks the vast silences.
Oppressed by love and peace
The people of life fall asleep
Oh glittering sickle, whose harvest of dreams
Waves down here under your gentle light!
As you can see, if you have any grasp of Italian, I had some issues with the first two-and-a-half lines of the second stanza, but that does not make the poem any less pretty.
I have a thing for mild, descriptive poems, especially when they feature landscapes that tell us something about people, or landscapes which are used as a metaphor for human actions. Take for instance my two favourite English language poems (which are terribly well-known, I know, but still), Daffodils and Ozymandias. The first, of course, is by William Wordsworth; the second, of course, by Percy Bysshe Shelley, husband of Mary Shelley (who of course wrote Frankenstein, one of my favourite Gothic novels also because I don't enjoy Dracula. I do enjoy Polidori's The Vampyre, though, so perhaps I should just stick to stories written by those having attended the 1816 meeting at Byron's house in Geneva for Gothic literature...).
Daffodils
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils
I especially like the phrase 'flash upon that inward eye' because I know what he means, and also how pleasant it is to just walk (I can't wait for the Heidelberg conference to put on some hiking boots and just taking off into the German hills... who cares about academics when you've got trees and flowers).
Ozymandias
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
`My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away".
Now, of course, having been to Egypt a handful of times (I can't wait to go again, but I'm saving up so I can stay for a couple of weeks after they open the new museum in Gizah - ooh, think of all the forgotten treasures that re-appear from the vaults of the old museum in Cairo once they start transporting stuff! So little of it has actually been catalogued back then! - and also so I can visit Alexandria, where I've not been yet, and also maybe Deir el Medina because frankly, how can I have been in Luxor twice and not have visited Deir el Medina?!) I picture the plateau behind the Gizah pyramids for desert - I love the desert - and I'm also slightly in love with the tyrannical arrogance of 'Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' because I love villains (even though Rameses the Great was far from being an actual villain in real life). So yeah.
My last favourite is just arguably the most famous Dutch poem ever (except for maybe Mei by Gorter: Een nieuwe lente, een nieuw geluid, ik wil dat dit lied klinkt als het gefluit... but no one ever knows more), Herinnering aan Holland by Marsman.
Herinnering aan Holland
zie ik breede rivieren
traag door oneindig
laagland gaan,
rijen ondenkbaar
ijle populieren
als hooge pluimen
aan den einder staan;
en in de geweldige
ruimte verzonken
de boerderijen
verspreid door het land,
boomgroepen, dorpen,
geknotte torens,
kerken en olmen
in een grootsch verband.
de lucht hangt er laag
en de zon wordt er langzaam
in grijze veelkleurige
dampen gesmoord,
en in alle gewesten
wordt de stem van het water
met zijn eeuwige rampen
gevreesd en gehoord.
Loosely translated it becomes
Memory of Holland
Thinking of Holland
I see wide rivers
Flow through
Endless lowland,
Endless lowland,
Rows unthinkably
Thin poplars
Like plumes stand
On the horizon,
Thin poplars
Like plumes stand
On the horizon,
And sunk into
The vast space
The vast space
The farmsteads
Spread across the land,
Copses, villages,
Pollarded towers,
Churches and elms,
In a grand unity.
The clouds are low
And the sun is slowly
Smothered in gray
And the sun is slowly
Smothered in gray
Colourful fumes,
And in all provinces
Is the call of the water
Of eternal disasters
Feared and heard.
Is the call of the water
Of eternal disasters
Feared and heard.
That concludes my set of poems for now. Maybe I'll post some poems of my own in the future. I'm off to bed now, though, so maybe a little Christian, Dutch, rhyme that I gleaned from one of my mum's childhood books that, despite me not being religious, I still find very charming and sweet:
Ik ga slapen, ik ben moe
'k Sluit mijn beide oogjes toe
Heere houdt ook deze nacht
Over mij getrouw de wacht
Over mij getrouw de wacht
Zorg voor de arme kind'ren Heer
En herstel de zieken weer
Ja voor alle mensen 'saam
Ja voor alle mensen 'saam
Bid ik u in Jezus' naam
Leicester Adventure: Middelburg-sick
I don't *do* homesick. You know, the traditional kind where you long back to your comfy bed at your dad's and the wholesome meals at your mum's because you can't take care of yourself properly.
I don't do that because I *can* take care of myself properly: give me a recipe for a Sunday roast and I'll put a real, authentic English Sunday roast on the table, and I'll put all the clothes wrinkle-free and folded in every relevant wardrobe, and I'll hoover once a week, more if you've got cats and/or long hair with a tendency to shed. I don't depend on anyone except for my parents for my monthly allowance (which I'm actually no longer entitled to since I turned 21 last year and so I'm really very grateful that they're willing to do that as long as I'm studying... they're probably mad somewhere, but if they are it's probably genetic and that means I'm mad too, which is a conclusion that doesn't seem too far off, really) and DUO for my study finance. I'd have to get a job if I didn't, and I guess I could get one, considering my qualifications (as in, I've done cash register for 8 weeks and administration for 1 1/2 year, they're dying to have me in retail), but the time I'm allowed to spend now on studying and worrying about my past/present/future is worth so much more than the time I could spend on a job aside from studying (read as: I should really get a job because if I don't I'll go mad because of the free time I have to mull everything over).
But I miss it. My undergraduate days. The days where you could knock on your neighbour's door (if you live on 218 and your neighbour lives in the same flat but on 164, that's still a neighbour, right?) and more or less force them to go out with you to Sev until 2am, when all the bars close. The days where you could say something incredibly stupid to your instructor and your instructor would only laugh and tell you the right answer and consequently tell you to send in an abstract for this-or-that conference because it may or may not interest you but anyway you should be so lucky to have an instructor that points out conferences to you. The days where you'd get up in the morning, skip breakfast but still manage to get to your classes dressed and make-upped because somehow you can't fathom being in a classroom without looking the part. The days where you decide to do groceries at 6:50pm, just before closing time, and end up in a queue for the register right before/after your instructor for next morning's 8:45 class.
I don't miss Oostvoorne. Oostvoorne is just a tiny little village with 8,000 inhabitants, a bookshop and a handful of other shops. And a beach, but one that's polluted by the Europoort.
I don't miss Hellevoetsluis. Hellevoetsluis at least can boast the fact that there's something resembling a mall, and some history, and the fact that Napoléon visited the town in 1812 (or 1811, I don't care enough to remember), but I still don't miss it.
But I miss Middelburg, and the tiny little alleys that you could roam at 3 in the morning (I did that, you know, I once sat on the steps of the Oostkerk for two-and-a-half hours just waiting for the sun to come up) and the people with their heads too far stuck up their arse to see how beneficial Roosevelt Academy is to their sleepy provincial capital, proper pasta at La Piccola Italia, beer at Sev/Brooklyn/De Vriendschap/Barrel/De Mug, taking 5 minutes to walk to school each morning and seeing the Stadhuis in a slightly different light each morning, and getting coffee for €1,70 at A Domani because the coffee served by Uni coffee machines is crap. I'm not homesick. I'm undergrad-uni-sick.
Good thing RA's got a website that's updated every week.
I don't do that because I *can* take care of myself properly: give me a recipe for a Sunday roast and I'll put a real, authentic English Sunday roast on the table, and I'll put all the clothes wrinkle-free and folded in every relevant wardrobe, and I'll hoover once a week, more if you've got cats and/or long hair with a tendency to shed. I don't depend on anyone except for my parents for my monthly allowance (which I'm actually no longer entitled to since I turned 21 last year and so I'm really very grateful that they're willing to do that as long as I'm studying... they're probably mad somewhere, but if they are it's probably genetic and that means I'm mad too, which is a conclusion that doesn't seem too far off, really) and DUO for my study finance. I'd have to get a job if I didn't, and I guess I could get one, considering my qualifications (as in, I've done cash register for 8 weeks and administration for 1 1/2 year, they're dying to have me in retail), but the time I'm allowed to spend now on studying and worrying about my past/present/future is worth so much more than the time I could spend on a job aside from studying (read as: I should really get a job because if I don't I'll go mad because of the free time I have to mull everything over).
But I miss it. My undergraduate days. The days where you could knock on your neighbour's door (if you live on 218 and your neighbour lives in the same flat but on 164, that's still a neighbour, right?) and more or less force them to go out with you to Sev until 2am, when all the bars close. The days where you could say something incredibly stupid to your instructor and your instructor would only laugh and tell you the right answer and consequently tell you to send in an abstract for this-or-that conference because it may or may not interest you but anyway you should be so lucky to have an instructor that points out conferences to you. The days where you'd get up in the morning, skip breakfast but still manage to get to your classes dressed and make-upped because somehow you can't fathom being in a classroom without looking the part. The days where you decide to do groceries at 6:50pm, just before closing time, and end up in a queue for the register right before/after your instructor for next morning's 8:45 class.
I don't miss Oostvoorne. Oostvoorne is just a tiny little village with 8,000 inhabitants, a bookshop and a handful of other shops. And a beach, but one that's polluted by the Europoort.
I don't miss Hellevoetsluis. Hellevoetsluis at least can boast the fact that there's something resembling a mall, and some history, and the fact that Napoléon visited the town in 1812 (or 1811, I don't care enough to remember), but I still don't miss it.
But I miss Middelburg, and the tiny little alleys that you could roam at 3 in the morning (I did that, you know, I once sat on the steps of the Oostkerk for two-and-a-half hours just waiting for the sun to come up) and the people with their heads too far stuck up their arse to see how beneficial Roosevelt Academy is to their sleepy provincial capital, proper pasta at La Piccola Italia, beer at Sev/Brooklyn/De Vriendschap/Barrel/De Mug, taking 5 minutes to walk to school each morning and seeing the Stadhuis in a slightly different light each morning, and getting coffee for €1,70 at A Domani because the coffee served by Uni coffee machines is crap. I'm not homesick. I'm undergrad-uni-sick.
Good thing RA's got a website that's updated every week.
Saturday 20 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Photographs
I've been working on my Practice Essay today. 2000 words on explaining the difference between measured crime rates and the public perception thereof. I'm so going to go over the word limit: I've written about 1650 words today and that's just the main skeleton, the employing of my three main sources to have something to hang further arguments on. The rest of the week will see padding and shaving of the essay. Should be interesting.
I received instructions from Kristy earlier today that she'd really like to see some photos of Leicester. I was going to take some next week, as next week I'll go shopping, but seeing as I had to go to the library anyway to do this essay writing, I figured I'd pack my camera and click away.
So here goes.
This lovely grassy field is the main "quad" of the Mary Gee houses. Of course, it's not a real quad, but it suits my purposes for calling it a quad well enough. I can't wait to see it covered in snow. I'm also very happy my house doesn't border on the quad, for presume my bit is somewhat quieter. Not that this is very loud, though; I think they mainly put postgrads in Mary Gee.
This is Queens Road, the road I walk down every day to school. It looks so very English, what with the houses all being slightly different and... well, it's just also a different sort of brick.
Two photos showing the vastness of the lawns of Victoria Park. As you can see, the leaves are turning crispy gold, and somehow trudging across the park is always loads colder than walking down Queens Road.
However, the squirrels (and you can't walk through the park without seeing one) make everything all right.
This cheese grater-looking building is the Attenborough Tower, which houses the Departments of Arts, Languages and Law. It's one of the tallest buildings in the entire city of Leicester.
This fancy house now houses the Department of Mathematics, but it used to be the childhood home of David and Richard Attenborough (according to the UoL website).
This awful, awful contraption is the Department of Engineering. Very apt. Engineers can build anything, but haven't got any sense of aesthetics.
This fancy glass-and-steel thing is the David Wilson Library, which is awesome. The toilets are also awesome (though I doubt they deserve the facebook page that they're rumoured to have). There's slightly too many books for the building, so most bookcases are the type on tracks, that you have to move with a large wheel on the side, like in Hollywood archives. I'll be squashed to death between those, for sure, at one point or another. Also, the Postgraduate Reading Room (It's a lounge, really...) is very nice, as it has comfy leather couches and seats that look like sun beds (but are also are done in black leather).
The Fielding Johnson South Wing. I never come here, except to take this picture.
The sign of UoL. It lights up at night! I feel a strange sense of pride...
How can I not photograph a red post pillar?
You see the War Monument in Victoria Park - this is one of the many gates.
Sunset over Lancaster Road.
Victorian lamp post and Upper New Walk. Fancy bit of town, part of the "satellite campus".
THERE IT IS! The glorious Department of Criminology. Ain't it puuuurrrty?
Main gate into Victoria Park. In my view, really, the main campus, Victoria Park and satellite campus are all the same part of town: University of Leicester. Even though VP isn't part of the UoL.
Interesting how Scholars Walk is a dead end street. I hope it's not a sign. Found it funny, though.
One of those old houses on London Road that just creeps me out at night by adhering to the standards of what a haunted house should look like. Which means that even if I could still trick-or-treat, I never would on London Road (or Ratcliffe Road, for that matter, because the houses here are equally old/big/scary).
MY ROAD! (My Way?)
My Hall of Residence.
The grassy court in front of my house. Unlike the rules at some other unis, at least here you can walk on the grass. Also, we have squirrels. Top that.
Hihi.
Anyway, as you can see, I'm starting to grow really fond of Leicester, or at least, of "my" parts of Leicester - of Knighton and Stoneygate and Victoria Park and the Campus.
I promise more photos in the future, but it's too dark out now to capture some of the other pretty bits of Leicester (I'm dying to show you all the paved-over location of where they found Richard III - I'm sure you can all appreciate a good bit of fresh asphalt), so for now: adieu and good night!
I received instructions from Kristy earlier today that she'd really like to see some photos of Leicester. I was going to take some next week, as next week I'll go shopping, but seeing as I had to go to the library anyway to do this essay writing, I figured I'd pack my camera and click away.
So here goes.
Hihi.
Anyway, as you can see, I'm starting to grow really fond of Leicester, or at least, of "my" parts of Leicester - of Knighton and Stoneygate and Victoria Park and the Campus.
I promise more photos in the future, but it's too dark out now to capture some of the other pretty bits of Leicester (I'm dying to show you all the paved-over location of where they found Richard III - I'm sure you can all appreciate a good bit of fresh asphalt), so for now: adieu and good night!
Friday 19 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: The Future
Almost every day now, I think about my future. What do I want to do after Leicester? I'd very much like to do a PhD, but unless I can do it as a research fellow and/or as part of a funded thing, I can't afford it. My study finance and student loans just stop as soon as I have my master's, and considering the fact that I already borrowed from my parents to do this master's I'm not going to ask them to fund another three years. Not when this economy makes it uncertain whether I'll actually be able to obtain employment after my study. You don't have to pay back your student loan and finance if you can't get a job after studying and I don't feel guilty about leaving DUO with my debt if that is what happens, but I'm not going to impose such a burden on my parents.
I've now started to check the website for the DCGC programme every other day, to look at their requirements. I know I can write a killer research proposal, also because I know that the thing I want to research is a) really interesting, b) useful for the field of Criminology, c) useful for society at large, d) in line with the research focus of the programme. The programme itself fills me with enthusiasm, so writing the letter of motivation should not be too difficult either. What worries me, though, is that they need references and grades. I can provide them with excellent undergraduate grades and references, no problem, but the handin date for the research proposal is 8 January 2013 and I don't have to hand in my course essays, my only evaluation materials, till late January. Also, I don't know if by that date I know my professors here well enough to ask them for a reference. I am going to give it a shot, absolutely, but this scares me a bit. Also because there are rumours that because of the austerity measures the Erasmus Mundus programme will be cut after 2013, so next year could be my last chance for this programme.
About once a week, I go onto the website for the Rijkstraineeship. I feel hesitant about returning to the Netherlands, but this option is just really very good, especially considering the pay but more importantly the opportunities. I know I'm qualified, I've got the leadership experience (not sure whether being chair of LitCo counts, but me being Course Rep and part of the founding board of the MSc Criminology Social Society here should definitely help), plus I speak three languages (Dutch and English fluently and pretty decent French once I work on it a bit more) and have (now) the experience of living abroad. Also, I've worked with a semi-governmental organization (Middelburg Court) and - well, all I'm really lacking in is keeping myself up-to-date with regards to what's going on in the Netherlands right now. I should probably actually read the foreign news articles in the Guardian rather than just reading about what misogyny/sexism means nowadays and whether the newest Pullman is any good. I do know, though, that apparently, financially I'm the equivalent of Finland. I also know that the Brits (or at least, the Guardian readers) think David Cameron is a toff and think Boris Johnson's hair's awful (I agree), and that the phrase 'yummy mummy' elicits 25 pages of discussion, but I fear that sort of social engagement and keeping up-to-date on what's happening in the world isn't the sort the Rijkstraineeship people are looking for.
I guess I could always try to be a part of a research team, which is a bit harder in social sciences than in the real, hard sciences, but people who know me know that I would very much prefer to do things my way ("let me do my thing!"). That may be impossible, though, so perhaps I should just cave and get my PhD and be bothered with doing my thing afterwards. I dunno.
No damn way the future's still a long way away; it might as well start tonight.
I've now started to check the website for the DCGC programme every other day, to look at their requirements. I know I can write a killer research proposal, also because I know that the thing I want to research is a) really interesting, b) useful for the field of Criminology, c) useful for society at large, d) in line with the research focus of the programme. The programme itself fills me with enthusiasm, so writing the letter of motivation should not be too difficult either. What worries me, though, is that they need references and grades. I can provide them with excellent undergraduate grades and references, no problem, but the handin date for the research proposal is 8 January 2013 and I don't have to hand in my course essays, my only evaluation materials, till late January. Also, I don't know if by that date I know my professors here well enough to ask them for a reference. I am going to give it a shot, absolutely, but this scares me a bit. Also because there are rumours that because of the austerity measures the Erasmus Mundus programme will be cut after 2013, so next year could be my last chance for this programme.
About once a week, I go onto the website for the Rijkstraineeship. I feel hesitant about returning to the Netherlands, but this option is just really very good, especially considering the pay but more importantly the opportunities. I know I'm qualified, I've got the leadership experience (not sure whether being chair of LitCo counts, but me being Course Rep and part of the founding board of the MSc Criminology Social Society here should definitely help), plus I speak three languages (Dutch and English fluently and pretty decent French once I work on it a bit more) and have (now) the experience of living abroad. Also, I've worked with a semi-governmental organization (Middelburg Court) and - well, all I'm really lacking in is keeping myself up-to-date with regards to what's going on in the Netherlands right now. I should probably actually read the foreign news articles in the Guardian rather than just reading about what misogyny/sexism means nowadays and whether the newest Pullman is any good. I do know, though, that apparently, financially I'm the equivalent of Finland. I also know that the Brits (or at least, the Guardian readers) think David Cameron is a toff and think Boris Johnson's hair's awful (I agree), and that the phrase 'yummy mummy' elicits 25 pages of discussion, but I fear that sort of social engagement and keeping up-to-date on what's happening in the world isn't the sort the Rijkstraineeship people are looking for.
I guess I could always try to be a part of a research team, which is a bit harder in social sciences than in the real, hard sciences, but people who know me know that I would very much prefer to do things my way ("let me do my thing!"). That may be impossible, though, so perhaps I should just cave and get my PhD and be bothered with doing my thing afterwards. I dunno.
No damn way the future's still a long way away; it might as well start tonight.
Wednesday 17 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Settling In
It's beginning to look like I've settled nicely into a new routine. It's not that I pop out of bed at 7am sharp every morning, also because somehow I never manage to sleep before 2, but things no longer seem as new and slightly frightening as they did when I first arrived.
I've had all my second lectures and seminars this week; I very much enjoyed Penology, seeing as we touched upon the subject of the Social Contract (Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau), and upon Bentham and Beccaria, with Rationalism and the Panopticon - the Social Contract was one of my favourite topics in Politics last semester, and I really enjoyed the class on Rationalism in Crime & Law Enforcement. I also was informed that I get to go on a trip to a prison on 26 October, which does unfortunately coincide with a very interesting lecture by another of my instructors, but I'm still looking forward to the trip.
I've taken a real liking to the Criminological Research Methods course, and Understanding Crime is also rapidly becoming something I look forward to, so that's all good.
I've settled into the habit of popping by a small local Sainsbury's on Queens Road on my way home, because it saves me a trip to Asda.
Furthermore, a small group of people is trying to set up a social society for the Criminology MSc students, and I'm on the "founding board" if you could call it that, so I'm keeping myself busy.
Lastly, the weather is currently in that awkward stage where your winter coat is too warm and your summer coat too chilly, where you just don't know what to wear. But the leaves are turning a crispy gold and falling off the trees, so I'm sure winter's not far off.
It feels very nice to settle into a new sense of 'having to do something', also because I do still need to finish properly revising my Dorian Gray paper for the Pala Conference proceedings (deadline: 1 November) and should really do something about my practice essay (deadline: 29 October). But that'll be fine.
I'll probably not write much in the coming weeks unless I have something important to say, but be advised that whenever I don't write, I'm doing my routine and I'm doing well.
I've had all my second lectures and seminars this week; I very much enjoyed Penology, seeing as we touched upon the subject of the Social Contract (Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau), and upon Bentham and Beccaria, with Rationalism and the Panopticon - the Social Contract was one of my favourite topics in Politics last semester, and I really enjoyed the class on Rationalism in Crime & Law Enforcement. I also was informed that I get to go on a trip to a prison on 26 October, which does unfortunately coincide with a very interesting lecture by another of my instructors, but I'm still looking forward to the trip.
I've taken a real liking to the Criminological Research Methods course, and Understanding Crime is also rapidly becoming something I look forward to, so that's all good.
I've settled into the habit of popping by a small local Sainsbury's on Queens Road on my way home, because it saves me a trip to Asda.
Furthermore, a small group of people is trying to set up a social society for the Criminology MSc students, and I'm on the "founding board" if you could call it that, so I'm keeping myself busy.
Lastly, the weather is currently in that awkward stage where your winter coat is too warm and your summer coat too chilly, where you just don't know what to wear. But the leaves are turning a crispy gold and falling off the trees, so I'm sure winter's not far off.
It feels very nice to settle into a new sense of 'having to do something', also because I do still need to finish properly revising my Dorian Gray paper for the Pala Conference proceedings (deadline: 1 November) and should really do something about my practice essay (deadline: 29 October). But that'll be fine.
I'll probably not write much in the coming weeks unless I have something important to say, but be advised that whenever I don't write, I'm doing my routine and I'm doing well.
Monday 15 October 2012
Blog Stats
How sad! I'd gathered a very nice collection of page views on this blog, and you could see very well that the majority of my readers live in the Netherlands, with the UK and the US being second and third. Also, perhaps unsurprisingly, the most-read post was the one on Penology, and the main browsers were Chrome and Firefox, main OS were Windows and Linux.
But somehow, my stats have been reset to 0. Pity.
Oh well, let's see if the new stats say something different!
UPDATE: A quick Google search reveals that the issue lies, at least most likely, not with just my blog - another blog author, for whom the wiping of stats is probably a lot more painful, has seen about half a million page views go up in smoke yesterday. It lies with Blogger then. Still a pity.
But somehow, my stats have been reset to 0. Pity.
Oh well, let's see if the new stats say something different!
UPDATE: A quick Google search reveals that the issue lies, at least most likely, not with just my blog - another blog author, for whom the wiping of stats is probably a lot more painful, has seen about half a million page views go up in smoke yesterday. It lies with Blogger then. Still a pity.
Saturday 13 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Authors, Kings, Knights & Owls
I went shopping.
That in itself does not say much, seeing as I'm not very fond of shopping and whenever I say I've been shopping I usually mean 'I went out to that-and-that shop to buy this, and then I went back home'.
But I went shopping for real this time. Window shopping, that is, because I still don't go in-and-out of shops when it's not necessary (and especially not on a Saturday afternoon when I get irritated by the amount of people in the shops). I basically walked to the Leicester city centre to check out where everything is. Unsurprisingly, the first proper shop that my instinct guided me towards was a Waterstone's; a book shop. I went for the fiction section to see whether they have Kingsley Amis' Lucky Jim because it's been recommended to me by several persons on several occasions (and also because it's supposedly set at a fictionalized University of Leicester) and I'd have bought it if my eye hadn't fallen on a set of very pretty new editions of Ian Fleming's James Bond books (and I don't mean based on the film, but the actual original books). Those were 'second for half price' and again I'd have bought those... but then I saw the new Pullman, Grimm Tales.
And then I saw The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde for 12 pounds.
After buying Oscar (I did need a proper copy since my Picture of Dorian Gray is falling apart and the only other physical copy of an Oscar opus is The Importance of being Earnest - all else is on my e-reader), I went to the bank to figure out how to open an account. The bank man wanted to know how long I planned on staying in the UK, so I admitted my still-vague plan of doing something in Cultural Criminology (yes, that is a very real field) ('I might stay for a PhD.' 'In what?' 'Cultural Criminology'), which led to a discussion on very awesome crime series. The account should be fixed in about a week.
I strolled about for a bit, looking here and there, but Leicester is fairly generic in that there is a Marks & Spencer, an H&M and a Primark all close together. As always, I became adventurous and strayed from the beaten path a little to stumble onto Leicester Cathedral and the Guildhall - though both were closed. I then had to find my way back to New Walk because I was getting tired, and while doing so I came across the site here in Leicester that's currently most interesting for history and archaeology enthusiasts: the car park in which they'd found the bones of Richard III (yes, there is no scientific certainty* yet, but from a legal point of view the circumstantial evidence is clearly sufficient), the last Plantagenet King of England before the reign of the Tudors. It's been paved over now, but still... this was quite cool.
On my way home, I passed a bespectacled young Sir Knight who, together with his father, both equipped with Halloween swords and shields, was bravely fighting the infamous invisible dragons and monsters of Queens Road.
Coming home I found a slip from the porter's telling me I was to pick up a package; at the porter's office, I found the sweetest little coloured glass owl waiting for me, carrying a scroll from Anouk. A nice surprise.
It also seems I was home just in time, because it's raining now (again).
*Since scientists are never certain of anything, scientific certainty is when they say that it is unlikely to be the result of coincidence. You know, like when they have a 0.00001% certainty that these bones do NOT belong to Richard III.
That in itself does not say much, seeing as I'm not very fond of shopping and whenever I say I've been shopping I usually mean 'I went out to that-and-that shop to buy this, and then I went back home'.
But I went shopping for real this time. Window shopping, that is, because I still don't go in-and-out of shops when it's not necessary (and especially not on a Saturday afternoon when I get irritated by the amount of people in the shops). I basically walked to the Leicester city centre to check out where everything is. Unsurprisingly, the first proper shop that my instinct guided me towards was a Waterstone's; a book shop. I went for the fiction section to see whether they have Kingsley Amis' Lucky Jim because it's been recommended to me by several persons on several occasions (and also because it's supposedly set at a fictionalized University of Leicester) and I'd have bought it if my eye hadn't fallen on a set of very pretty new editions of Ian Fleming's James Bond books (and I don't mean based on the film, but the actual original books). Those were 'second for half price' and again I'd have bought those... but then I saw the new Pullman, Grimm Tales.
And then I saw The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde for 12 pounds.
After buying Oscar (I did need a proper copy since my Picture of Dorian Gray is falling apart and the only other physical copy of an Oscar opus is The Importance of being Earnest - all else is on my e-reader), I went to the bank to figure out how to open an account. The bank man wanted to know how long I planned on staying in the UK, so I admitted my still-vague plan of doing something in Cultural Criminology (yes, that is a very real field) ('I might stay for a PhD.' 'In what?' 'Cultural Criminology'), which led to a discussion on very awesome crime series. The account should be fixed in about a week.
I strolled about for a bit, looking here and there, but Leicester is fairly generic in that there is a Marks & Spencer, an H&M and a Primark all close together. As always, I became adventurous and strayed from the beaten path a little to stumble onto Leicester Cathedral and the Guildhall - though both were closed. I then had to find my way back to New Walk because I was getting tired, and while doing so I came across the site here in Leicester that's currently most interesting for history and archaeology enthusiasts: the car park in which they'd found the bones of Richard III (yes, there is no scientific certainty* yet, but from a legal point of view the circumstantial evidence is clearly sufficient), the last Plantagenet King of England before the reign of the Tudors. It's been paved over now, but still... this was quite cool.
On my way home, I passed a bespectacled young Sir Knight who, together with his father, both equipped with Halloween swords and shields, was bravely fighting the infamous invisible dragons and monsters of Queens Road.
Coming home I found a slip from the porter's telling me I was to pick up a package; at the porter's office, I found the sweetest little coloured glass owl waiting for me, carrying a scroll from Anouk. A nice surprise.
It also seems I was home just in time, because it's raining now (again).
*Since scientists are never certain of anything, scientific certainty is when they say that it is unlikely to be the result of coincidence. You know, like when they have a 0.00001% certainty that these bones do NOT belong to Richard III.
Friday 12 October 2012
Leicester Adventures: Victory
As any student going abroad, I had some issues with DUO, the regulating body for study finance. They weren't really issues as much as they were difficulties, in that I could not receive SMS authentication codes to log in to my account and fill out the forms for my change of address as well as see whether my study finance application had actually been approved (something that caused me not the least amount of worry, if only because I needed that subsidy/loan). Why could I not receive them?
Because my Dutch phone number had been registered without the country code of 0031.
I panicked and took this issue up with DUO and simultaneously posted a cry for help on Facebook. I received a very clever suggestion via fb to contact the DigiD instance, who controls the log in method for government sites (DUO is one). I promptly contacted them and received an email the next day that I was to take this up with DUO.
I then received a series of emails from DUO saying that there were messages waiting for me - on my account. Clever.
I didn't think much of it, until I just now sat up straight when I figured that maybe they sent me those emails because my log in issues had been resolved - without informing me thereof, but still. So I gave it a try, and it works.
No more need to panic. It's all gonna be juuuussstt fine.
Now all I have to do is open up a British bank account and get myself a British phone. But I'm keeping my Dutch phone, too, because I'm not even going to try and jump through the hoops for changing my registered phone number into a British one...
Because my Dutch phone number had been registered without the country code of 0031.
I panicked and took this issue up with DUO and simultaneously posted a cry for help on Facebook. I received a very clever suggestion via fb to contact the DigiD instance, who controls the log in method for government sites (DUO is one). I promptly contacted them and received an email the next day that I was to take this up with DUO.
I then received a series of emails from DUO saying that there were messages waiting for me - on my account. Clever.
I didn't think much of it, until I just now sat up straight when I figured that maybe they sent me those emails because my log in issues had been resolved - without informing me thereof, but still. So I gave it a try, and it works.
No more need to panic. It's all gonna be juuuussstt fine.
Now all I have to do is open up a British bank account and get myself a British phone. But I'm keeping my Dutch phone, too, because I'm not even going to try and jump through the hoops for changing my registered phone number into a British one...
Wednesday 10 October 2012
Leicester Adventures: Stats & Seminars
My two hours of class this morning was on Criminological Research Methods - basically, it's a repetition of the Methods part of RA's Stats courses. That's going to be interesting, I guess - we'll be doing quite some things on the qualitative part as well, and seeing as I didn't take Stats 211 (I was hardcore and took the 210), I'll be learning quite some things I don't know yet, such as grounded theory. It'll also be a nice refresher for the quantitative, because though I am still quite up-to-scratch on quantitative methods, the actual stats (SPSS :/ ) has vacated its premises in my memory and needs to be dragged back. I did express a desire over the summer to re-activate my stats knowledge, seeing as I then finally realized I'll be needing it, so I'm very happy actually with this course. Also, the frankly worn out common place of stats dropped in: correlation does not imply causation. However, this common place was nicely illustrated with a graph on the decline in the number of pirates and the rise in the Global Average Temperature, so it wasn't bad or anything.
This one.
Afterwards a man from the student help centre or something to talk to us about how to critically read and write. He was obviously very passionate about what he was talking about, but it felt so common-sensical that I did have a hard time focusing. Poor man. I did feel validated in my habit of drawing up essay outlines as soon as I receive an essay topic, but I've other people to thank for making me have that habit in the first place, so even that is not as redeeming as it could be.
The afternoon session was very interesting, with the introductory class on Understanding Crime being about what is actually a theory, while the seminar afterwards felt very familiar; 10 students and an instructor discussing things while seated around a set of tables mashed together, except it was about what causes crime rather than whether or not the use of phonaesthemes allows people to process a word faster. Also, we didn't have wine and nuts (idea for next week?).
And just now I got a note slipped under my door that I am to pick up a package at the Porter's but the porter isn't in until tomorrow morning so I'm afraid I'm going to have to try my patience. I'm curious, though...
Tuesday 9 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Cold
With this blog title I mean two sorts of cold: meteorological cold and medical cold. I'd like to say I'm suffering from both, but then I'd be hyperbolic in both cases; nevertheless, they are both starting to bother me.
About the medical cold: I've had an achy throat for a couple of days now, and my nose is starting to get runny. I should've expected this, I haven't been in student accommodation for four months. It's bothersome, though, but it'll go away soon, I'm convinced of that. Besides, I've got warm clothes for when I go outside, so it shouldn't get any worse, either.
What brings me to the meteorological cold: 11 degrees Celsius isn't quite freezing. But I can't regulate when my radiator is on, and I have a habit of leaving my window open when I'm home because I need a steady supply of fresh air. My windows being single-pane doesn't help, either. This means that when I sit and read (my instructors all keep emphasizing that we 'read' for our degree rather than study (which is a very British expression, I've come to understand) - they mean that we have to put in about 35 hours of class (8 hours) and reading (the rest) per week), I can put on as many layers of clothing I like, but my fingers and toes will still be cold.
I'll probably have to turn to a very British solution to both these fairly minor issues: tea.
I can get used to that, certainly.
P.S. This all also puts me in the mood for Christmas songs and split pea soup. It should be possible to make some here; I've got all the equipment except for my 10L soup pot (but I don't intend on making 10L this year, so my new 3.5L should suffice) and I think Asda's got most, if not all, ingredients (except for rookworst, probably, though it wouldn't surprise me if the superstore had that too)... When the time comes for me to make my famous-at-home version of Dutch Split Pea Soup, I'll do a proper blog report. Also, no, Dutch split pea soup should NOT contain potatoes, regardless of how many cooks do add them - if you're any good at making this soup, the ladle should stay upright without cheating.
About the medical cold: I've had an achy throat for a couple of days now, and my nose is starting to get runny. I should've expected this, I haven't been in student accommodation for four months. It's bothersome, though, but it'll go away soon, I'm convinced of that. Besides, I've got warm clothes for when I go outside, so it shouldn't get any worse, either.
What brings me to the meteorological cold: 11 degrees Celsius isn't quite freezing. But I can't regulate when my radiator is on, and I have a habit of leaving my window open when I'm home because I need a steady supply of fresh air. My windows being single-pane doesn't help, either. This means that when I sit and read (my instructors all keep emphasizing that we 'read' for our degree rather than study (which is a very British expression, I've come to understand) - they mean that we have to put in about 35 hours of class (8 hours) and reading (the rest) per week), I can put on as many layers of clothing I like, but my fingers and toes will still be cold.
I'll probably have to turn to a very British solution to both these fairly minor issues: tea.
I can get used to that, certainly.
P.S. This all also puts me in the mood for Christmas songs and split pea soup. It should be possible to make some here; I've got all the equipment except for my 10L soup pot (but I don't intend on making 10L this year, so my new 3.5L should suffice) and I think Asda's got most, if not all, ingredients (except for rookworst, probably, though it wouldn't surprise me if the superstore had that too)... When the time comes for me to make my famous-at-home version of Dutch Split Pea Soup, I'll do a proper blog report. Also, no, Dutch split pea soup should NOT contain potatoes, regardless of how many cooks do add them - if you're any good at making this soup, the ladle should stay upright without cheating.
Monday 8 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Penology
Today is the first day of the rest of my life of my classes. Penology (hold the giggles - it's on how and why society punishes crime). This also means that in the monomythical view of my Leicester Adventures, I have passed definitely from the realm of normal people back into the realm of Academia, moved from Stage I, the Departure, into Stage II, the Initiation. The Road of Trials will be long; it consists of classes, papers, dissertations and everything more. I shall encounter Temptations that will attempt to lead me from the path and I shall meet my God (tsk, how male-centered to make both the all-encompassing love and the Temptation female personifications). One I've completed all that, I'll experience Apotheosis (probably when I'm working on my dissertation and reach that stage where you don't eat, sleep or drink and you and your dissertation become one, when there is nothing more in the world than that - and this is in general not at all positive) and finally, once I complete this Adventure, my Ultimate Boon, that coveted Master's Degree.
Come to think of it, Roosevelt Academy was also an Adventure. Hmm. Maybe Academia is like Middle-Earth. Then RA was the Shire, and Leicester... Rivendell?
Oh God, that would make a hypothetical PhD Mordor... considering the anecdotes I've heard about PhDs, that assessment isn't too far off...
UPDATE: Just found this wonderful bit on how doing a PhD is like tossing the Ring back into the fiery pits of Mount Doom: http://danny.oz.au/danny/humour/phd_lotr.html
Tomorrow is my reading day, so I'll be off early to head to the Library, and Wednesday is a long day of Criminological Research Methods (oh, Hell... SPSS!) and Understanding Crime, both of which I do very much look forward to.
Oh, right: Penology was fun. 13 people in that class, had discussions, are to critique paper for next class. It's like RA 2.0, but the workload is lighter.
Now you're free to giggle about 'penology'.
Come to think of it, Roosevelt Academy was also an Adventure. Hmm. Maybe Academia is like Middle-Earth. Then RA was the Shire, and Leicester... Rivendell?
Oh God, that would make a hypothetical PhD Mordor... considering the anecdotes I've heard about PhDs, that assessment isn't too far off...
UPDATE: Just found this wonderful bit on how doing a PhD is like tossing the Ring back into the fiery pits of Mount Doom: http://danny.oz.au/danny/humour/phd_lotr.html
Tomorrow is my reading day, so I'll be off early to head to the Library, and Wednesday is a long day of Criminological Research Methods (oh, Hell... SPSS!) and Understanding Crime, both of which I do very much look forward to.
Oh, right: Penology was fun. 13 people in that class, had discussions, are to critique paper for next class. It's like RA 2.0, but the workload is lighter.
Now you're free to giggle about 'penology'.
Friday 5 October 2012
Opinion: Criminology as a Field
The introduction to the Oxford Handbook of Criminology describes Criminology as being extremely inter-disciplinary, as actually being a field rather than a discipline because the uniting characteristic is the topic rather than the methodology.
Of course I agree there; whenever I look for Criminological explanations I find them often in the fields of law, behavioural economics, politics, psychology, anthropology, history or, in rare cases, linguistics.
Why does the law have the effect is does? Well, because the linguistic properties of the law make it what it is, and what it is makes it a sort of contract, and that sort of contract attaches possibly undesired consequences to socially undesired actions which makes most people wanting to keep to that law (unless the law is about jumping red lights on a bike or something, because there the chance of being caught combined with the fine makes for too small a consequence to outweigh the convenience of being three seconds faster). Linguistics, law/politics, economics/politics/psychology (the risk-averse person).
If the Oxford Handbook and I are both right, I would assume I am right in concluding that Criminology is one of the ultimate liberal arts fields in social sciences.
That said, I would go on to state that plenty of Universities are wrong to put it in the departments of either Sociology or Law; Criminology is neither and thus deserves its own department (yes, I am aware that this reasoning would go for a number of other fields as well) or should have its own track in University Colleges like Roosevelt Academy.
There is a fragment of self-interest in there too; if given the chance to ever teach this at a Uni, I would lobby for making it a separate department (and I don't even have a desire to be a Head of Department, I don't like office politics, but I just feel that Criminology would benefit from having its own dept) or, if at a UC, I would lobby to make Criminology have its own track within Social Sciences.
Practical example: if (IF) I do ever manage to teach Crime & Law Enforcement at RA and RA hasn't given Criminology its own track by then, I WILL lobby for that - besides, the massive over-subscriptions for law and psychology courses would surely guarantee that at least the costs for two more crime courses will be covered, thus actually allowing for a full track. That would also make it easier for students who wish to go on and do Criminology masters in the Netherlands, where one of the requirements is still to have done a certain amount of ECTS within the field of Criminology (because if they do want to go on and do Criminology, the Netherlands and Britain offer, apparently, the best masters. For Criminal Justice, the US is apparently really very good - and yes, there is a difference).
But who knows what the future will bring.
Of course I agree there; whenever I look for Criminological explanations I find them often in the fields of law, behavioural economics, politics, psychology, anthropology, history or, in rare cases, linguistics.
Why does the law have the effect is does? Well, because the linguistic properties of the law make it what it is, and what it is makes it a sort of contract, and that sort of contract attaches possibly undesired consequences to socially undesired actions which makes most people wanting to keep to that law (unless the law is about jumping red lights on a bike or something, because there the chance of being caught combined with the fine makes for too small a consequence to outweigh the convenience of being three seconds faster). Linguistics, law/politics, economics/politics/psychology (the risk-averse person).
If the Oxford Handbook and I are both right, I would assume I am right in concluding that Criminology is one of the ultimate liberal arts fields in social sciences.
That said, I would go on to state that plenty of Universities are wrong to put it in the departments of either Sociology or Law; Criminology is neither and thus deserves its own department (yes, I am aware that this reasoning would go for a number of other fields as well) or should have its own track in University Colleges like Roosevelt Academy.
There is a fragment of self-interest in there too; if given the chance to ever teach this at a Uni, I would lobby for making it a separate department (and I don't even have a desire to be a Head of Department, I don't like office politics, but I just feel that Criminology would benefit from having its own dept) or, if at a UC, I would lobby to make Criminology have its own track within Social Sciences.
Practical example: if (IF) I do ever manage to teach Crime & Law Enforcement at RA and RA hasn't given Criminology its own track by then, I WILL lobby for that - besides, the massive over-subscriptions for law and psychology courses would surely guarantee that at least the costs for two more crime courses will be covered, thus actually allowing for a full track. That would also make it easier for students who wish to go on and do Criminology masters in the Netherlands, where one of the requirements is still to have done a certain amount of ECTS within the field of Criminology (because if they do want to go on and do Criminology, the Netherlands and Britain offer, apparently, the best masters. For Criminal Justice, the US is apparently really very good - and yes, there is a difference).
But who knows what the future will bring.
Tuesday 2 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Belly of the Whale Part II
Tuesday
I'm exhausted. Woke up early and prepared for Induction, walked into uni with Ruth, my blockmate from across the hall.
Induction was good. It started at 9:30 with a general presentation on the courses and the schedule and everything, and how to pick our optional modules &c. Then at 10:30 we got lumped with the BA freshers in a lecture theatre to watch the Department academic staff introduce itself. We got quizzed on perceptions of crime, Ruth and I did pretty well on that, especially on the topics of our interest.
Returned to our first seminar room to have a spot of lunch (we were all famished by then) and got the assignment to mingle and try and complete a sort of bingo card of characteristics. I got to impress people by being able to sign the 'speaks three languages' square, though I didn't really tell them that I'm not exactly fluent in French or German.
Afterwards, a very long but very interesting session on the core and optional modules. Definitely will be signing up for Media and Crime and for Psychology of Evil, I haven't decided on my third optional yet.
Finally, some stuff on the library and the IT services and all that.
Ruth and I left at about 4:30, got caught in a downpour on our way back.
The academic staff seems really pleasant; though also a bit mad, but of the good sort, the sort of mad that I presume you have to be in order to be a proper Criminology scholar or indeed any scholar at all. There is, for instance, this one lady who looks all sweet and innocent at first and then you get to discover that she is interested (she used my favourite word, 'obsessed', to describe her interests... extra points in my book) in what she calls the darker sides of humanity, like serial killers and genocide and all that. She teaches the Psychology of Evil course. Another is the man who teaches Understanding Crime, which is supposedly quite a hard course - but he showed up wearing a wickedly awesome combination of brownish slacks and a vest, with a green jacket to complete the three-piece-suit get-up, and wore it with a dark richly patterned button-down. He had wonderful examples of for instance the punishments for cross-dressing in Victorian times. And they're all like that, all memorable, even for a person like me who is awful with names. So I'm clearly looking forward to my classes - three courses per semester, all assessed through a 4,000-word paper at the end, so six courses in total and then my dissertation. It'll be a wondrous time.
Wednesday
A very early morning. 9 am. I completed my optional modules by picking Transnational Policing as a third option, and Crime, Justice and Psychology as a back-up. Then elections for student representative, one per stream (four streams within the Criminology MSc: 'straight' Criminology, what I do; Applied Criminology, which includes a placement; Clinical Criminology, which is on the psychological stuff mainly, and Terrorism, Security and Policing, which is, you'd never guess it, on terrorism 'n stuff) and then one for the part-time students. The representatives for Applied, Clinical and Part-Time were easily picked because only one person ran for each (congrats Ruth on the Clinical!), but for Terrorism and 'straight' there were two for each. Aside from me, a very intelligent and ambitious guy from Canada ran for the 'straight' and I feared that I didn't stand a chance; eventually I did win, with a difference of one vote. I'm very happy with this, also because I just really want to be involved this year.
Info 'n stuff on plagiarism (don't do it!), sources (Wikipedia is evil!) and how to write an essay (introduction, body and conclusion!), then drinks at the department, then lunch at Shimla Pinks, an Indian restaurant. I love spicy Asian food, so I had a good time eating something and I managed to spill none of the brightly coloured food on my bright white blouse. I'm proud of myself for that. While eating, we (that is, the Canadian guy, Lisa, who is one of the instructors, another girl and me, as well as the rest of our table) had interesting discussions going on about criminal behaviour not being criminal within certain groups within society (I got to bring up the Mafia, yay!), poverty, Canadians missing Tim Hortons, serial killers and much more.
At night, Ruth and I took an undergrad fresher who was by some misunderstanding or another placed in a postgrad hall, to Revolution, a bar where we met up with another of my fellow students and left the fresher with the rowing team so she could make fresher friends, while we three postgrads went on to a few more bars and then took a taxi to the Student Union before I decided to go home because I have had some trouble sleeping the last few days. I'm going to have to get used to drinking pints instead of half-pints, though Strawberry Woo-Woos are something I would not mind having again. It was crowded at the Student Union and one of the security guys gave me a stern lecture on that I should really not walk home by myself, but of course I did so anyway - but I did not trudge through Victoria Park, like he said I shouldn't.
Thursday
Woke up late, sui-cycled to the Criminology Department to pick up my books (free course books! Yes, happily surprised me too. How absolutely wonderful!) and will go sit on my bed in a few, listen to music and read some chapters.
I'm exhausted. Woke up early and prepared for Induction, walked into uni with Ruth, my blockmate from across the hall.
Induction was good. It started at 9:30 with a general presentation on the courses and the schedule and everything, and how to pick our optional modules &c. Then at 10:30 we got lumped with the BA freshers in a lecture theatre to watch the Department academic staff introduce itself. We got quizzed on perceptions of crime, Ruth and I did pretty well on that, especially on the topics of our interest.
Returned to our first seminar room to have a spot of lunch (we were all famished by then) and got the assignment to mingle and try and complete a sort of bingo card of characteristics. I got to impress people by being able to sign the 'speaks three languages' square, though I didn't really tell them that I'm not exactly fluent in French or German.
Afterwards, a very long but very interesting session on the core and optional modules. Definitely will be signing up for Media and Crime and for Psychology of Evil, I haven't decided on my third optional yet.
Finally, some stuff on the library and the IT services and all that.
Ruth and I left at about 4:30, got caught in a downpour on our way back.
The academic staff seems really pleasant; though also a bit mad, but of the good sort, the sort of mad that I presume you have to be in order to be a proper Criminology scholar or indeed any scholar at all. There is, for instance, this one lady who looks all sweet and innocent at first and then you get to discover that she is interested (she used my favourite word, 'obsessed', to describe her interests... extra points in my book) in what she calls the darker sides of humanity, like serial killers and genocide and all that. She teaches the Psychology of Evil course. Another is the man who teaches Understanding Crime, which is supposedly quite a hard course - but he showed up wearing a wickedly awesome combination of brownish slacks and a vest, with a green jacket to complete the three-piece-suit get-up, and wore it with a dark richly patterned button-down. He had wonderful examples of for instance the punishments for cross-dressing in Victorian times. And they're all like that, all memorable, even for a person like me who is awful with names. So I'm clearly looking forward to my classes - three courses per semester, all assessed through a 4,000-word paper at the end, so six courses in total and then my dissertation. It'll be a wondrous time.
Wednesday
A very early morning. 9 am. I completed my optional modules by picking Transnational Policing as a third option, and Crime, Justice and Psychology as a back-up. Then elections for student representative, one per stream (four streams within the Criminology MSc: 'straight' Criminology, what I do; Applied Criminology, which includes a placement; Clinical Criminology, which is on the psychological stuff mainly, and Terrorism, Security and Policing, which is, you'd never guess it, on terrorism 'n stuff) and then one for the part-time students. The representatives for Applied, Clinical and Part-Time were easily picked because only one person ran for each (congrats Ruth on the Clinical!), but for Terrorism and 'straight' there were two for each. Aside from me, a very intelligent and ambitious guy from Canada ran for the 'straight' and I feared that I didn't stand a chance; eventually I did win, with a difference of one vote. I'm very happy with this, also because I just really want to be involved this year.
Info 'n stuff on plagiarism (don't do it!), sources (Wikipedia is evil!) and how to write an essay (introduction, body and conclusion!), then drinks at the department, then lunch at Shimla Pinks, an Indian restaurant. I love spicy Asian food, so I had a good time eating something and I managed to spill none of the brightly coloured food on my bright white blouse. I'm proud of myself for that. While eating, we (that is, the Canadian guy, Lisa, who is one of the instructors, another girl and me, as well as the rest of our table) had interesting discussions going on about criminal behaviour not being criminal within certain groups within society (I got to bring up the Mafia, yay!), poverty, Canadians missing Tim Hortons, serial killers and much more.
At night, Ruth and I took an undergrad fresher who was by some misunderstanding or another placed in a postgrad hall, to Revolution, a bar where we met up with another of my fellow students and left the fresher with the rowing team so she could make fresher friends, while we three postgrads went on to a few more bars and then took a taxi to the Student Union before I decided to go home because I have had some trouble sleeping the last few days. I'm going to have to get used to drinking pints instead of half-pints, though Strawberry Woo-Woos are something I would not mind having again. It was crowded at the Student Union and one of the security guys gave me a stern lecture on that I should really not walk home by myself, but of course I did so anyway - but I did not trudge through Victoria Park, like he said I shouldn't.
Thursday
Woke up late, sui-cycled to the Criminology Department to pick up my books (free course books! Yes, happily surprised me too. How absolutely wonderful!) and will go sit on my bed in a few, listen to music and read some chapters.
Monday 1 October 2012
Leicester Adventure: Belly of the Whale Part I
11 am.
Dearest readers,
For today, seeing as today is a day of really settling in, I decided to embark upon the not-so-daunting task of doing regular updates. If I have no computer close to me, I'll jot my thoughts down on my notepad. This is mainly for my mum and dad, as they both seemed so much sadder than I expected them to be to see me move to England and I want to comfort them by letting them know I'm not (immediately) plunging into the hellish pits of drunken doom.
I tried waking up at 8 am but couldn't. Stayed in bed til 8:30, then got dressed and had breakfast. I'm seriously considering switching to cereal because it's seemingly impossible to find a good and fluffy wholewheat bread that doesn't go stale overnight. Watched a stream of History of the World: Age of Empire on the BBC website and considered teaching myself the Phoenician alphabet since it didn't look that difficult. Walked to uni at 10:30, passed a number of houses on London Road that I wouldn't mind living in; they're gorgeous and So Big. It's a nice wake-up walk, but seeing as it's 25 minutes I may really use my bike from here on.
Now I sit in front of the library, gathering my courage to see what sort of sources I'll be stuck with for the year. I hope it's as good as it's reputed to be.
11:35 am.
Oh, my wonderful Lord. I just walked past the building of the Department of Criminology and died a little, happily. The house (for it is a converted house, not a purpose-built glass-and-steel contraption) is situated on the Upper New Walk, which is a small tree-covered lane which has allegedly been reserved for pedestrians for at least the last two-hundred years. The converted house itself is one of these Victorian/Edwardian/Georgian (whatever, old-fashioned English will do) red-brick houses, semi-detached but large enough to hold a middle-class family with a handful of servants. I do hope it's as pretty on the inside as it is on the outside, but I presume any house with bay windows will be pretty enough to suit my aesthetic preferences. Oh, how pretty it must be in the dead of winter, covered in powdery white!
The library I couldn't properly access, for I don't get my library card until tomorrow, but the book shop looks good... I wonder whether to get "University of Leicester"-stamped hardback notebooks for my courses or just stick to my method of punching holes in notepaper and sticking them in folders. Now I'm off, though, back home, because I forgot my schedule. I'll ride back here by bike.
12:30 pm.
On my way back home I met a girl who inquired as to where Mary Gee was. Turns out she lives in my block. She did manage to access the library so I might go back there this afternoon and try again. She says it's big, bigger than the library of the Uni of Kent (where she did her undergrad) so I'm quite curious now...
2:30 pm.
I think I love this place. I visited the library and it's everything a library ought to be except old. It is still pretty in a new style, a sort of clean, understated modernity that just oozes updated sophistication. And shelves and shelves and shelves dedicated to Criminology. It's quiet, with very comfortable postgrad areas and you can hear pins drop. That was my biggest issue with the Zeeuwse Bibliotheek, the lack of silence, so this is wonderful.
Cycling feels semi-suicidal, so it's not as bad as I thought. Haven't got a clue of British bicycling laws, except for that you oughtn't cycle on the motorway and that the two-foot-wide green strips of road are apparently meant to be bike paths (interesting change from the Dutch pink-red, which is here used for the bus lanes), so I'll keep getting on and off the sidewalk until I'm sent off by the police - much like my Dutch habits, really. And no one has a proper bike. They're all glorified mountain bikes at best, and thought mine's getting rickety (I've had it for a decade now), I still feel it's the best suited for actual biking compared to the ones I've seen.
I've tried signing up for the Quidditch Team but couldn't find their stand. I did sign up to be a blood donor, though, like I was in the Netherlands. Tomorrow's another chance for signing up.
4:00 pm.
The guest lecture by Simon Cole, Chief Constable of the Leicestershire Police, has just ended. He's given me quite a bit of inspiration on what sort of things I could write papers about. Good to be aware of...
5:00 pm.
Right, cycling here is suicidal when you're weaving in and out of traffic on a roundabout on the A6 to Oadby while trying to carry a box of Domino's pizza (I'm feeling lazy today) and the motorists are stuck because it's rush hour. Still made it home safe. I do miss the convenience of having a supermarket next door. God, I've been spoiled with the Middelburg rooms.
5:30 pm.
Just met another of my block mates, right across the hall. Studies Clinical Criminology, also postgrad, and we're walking up to uni tomorrow. Awesome.
Dearest readers,
For today, seeing as today is a day of really settling in, I decided to embark upon the not-so-daunting task of doing regular updates. If I have no computer close to me, I'll jot my thoughts down on my notepad. This is mainly for my mum and dad, as they both seemed so much sadder than I expected them to be to see me move to England and I want to comfort them by letting them know I'm not (immediately) plunging into the hellish pits of drunken doom.
I tried waking up at 8 am but couldn't. Stayed in bed til 8:30, then got dressed and had breakfast. I'm seriously considering switching to cereal because it's seemingly impossible to find a good and fluffy wholewheat bread that doesn't go stale overnight. Watched a stream of History of the World: Age of Empire on the BBC website and considered teaching myself the Phoenician alphabet since it didn't look that difficult. Walked to uni at 10:30, passed a number of houses on London Road that I wouldn't mind living in; they're gorgeous and So Big. It's a nice wake-up walk, but seeing as it's 25 minutes I may really use my bike from here on.
Now I sit in front of the library, gathering my courage to see what sort of sources I'll be stuck with for the year. I hope it's as good as it's reputed to be.
11:35 am.
Oh, my wonderful Lord. I just walked past the building of the Department of Criminology and died a little, happily. The house (for it is a converted house, not a purpose-built glass-and-steel contraption) is situated on the Upper New Walk, which is a small tree-covered lane which has allegedly been reserved for pedestrians for at least the last two-hundred years. The converted house itself is one of these Victorian/Edwardian/Georgian (whatever, old-fashioned English will do) red-brick houses, semi-detached but large enough to hold a middle-class family with a handful of servants. I do hope it's as pretty on the inside as it is on the outside, but I presume any house with bay windows will be pretty enough to suit my aesthetic preferences. Oh, how pretty it must be in the dead of winter, covered in powdery white!
The library I couldn't properly access, for I don't get my library card until tomorrow, but the book shop looks good... I wonder whether to get "University of Leicester"-stamped hardback notebooks for my courses or just stick to my method of punching holes in notepaper and sticking them in folders. Now I'm off, though, back home, because I forgot my schedule. I'll ride back here by bike.
12:30 pm.
On my way back home I met a girl who inquired as to where Mary Gee was. Turns out she lives in my block. She did manage to access the library so I might go back there this afternoon and try again. She says it's big, bigger than the library of the Uni of Kent (where she did her undergrad) so I'm quite curious now...
2:30 pm.
I think I love this place. I visited the library and it's everything a library ought to be except old. It is still pretty in a new style, a sort of clean, understated modernity that just oozes updated sophistication. And shelves and shelves and shelves dedicated to Criminology. It's quiet, with very comfortable postgrad areas and you can hear pins drop. That was my biggest issue with the Zeeuwse Bibliotheek, the lack of silence, so this is wonderful.
Cycling feels semi-suicidal, so it's not as bad as I thought. Haven't got a clue of British bicycling laws, except for that you oughtn't cycle on the motorway and that the two-foot-wide green strips of road are apparently meant to be bike paths (interesting change from the Dutch pink-red, which is here used for the bus lanes), so I'll keep getting on and off the sidewalk until I'm sent off by the police - much like my Dutch habits, really. And no one has a proper bike. They're all glorified mountain bikes at best, and thought mine's getting rickety (I've had it for a decade now), I still feel it's the best suited for actual biking compared to the ones I've seen.
I've tried signing up for the Quidditch Team but couldn't find their stand. I did sign up to be a blood donor, though, like I was in the Netherlands. Tomorrow's another chance for signing up.
4:00 pm.
The guest lecture by Simon Cole, Chief Constable of the Leicestershire Police, has just ended. He's given me quite a bit of inspiration on what sort of things I could write papers about. Good to be aware of...
5:00 pm.
Right, cycling here is suicidal when you're weaving in and out of traffic on a roundabout on the A6 to Oadby while trying to carry a box of Domino's pizza (I'm feeling lazy today) and the motorists are stuck because it's rush hour. Still made it home safe. I do miss the convenience of having a supermarket next door. God, I've been spoiled with the Middelburg rooms.
5:30 pm.
Just met another of my block mates, right across the hall. Studies Clinical Criminology, also postgrad, and we're walking up to uni tomorrow. Awesome.
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