Remember!

Hey, sorry about the lateness of this post, but this weekend was a fantastic one. Starting off with Guy Fawkes day, we all are retold the rhyme:

Remember, Remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason, and plot
I find no reason
why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot!

The fifth fell on a thursday this year, which means most of the celebrations of blowing up Catholics happens on the coming weekend, but there are a few fireworks going on the actual day.  A few of us went to Brixton to watch an awesome fireworks show...and it was exactly that...awesome. Throughout the night and continuing into the weekend, you hear store bought fireworks going off left and right. I didn't see any effigies being made or burned, but I am told that tradition is dying out. "A penny for guy" is a phrase that was once said by children trying to buy or get reimbursed for the dolls and effigies that they have created to celebrate. I had a pocket full of copper ready to hand out if needed, but alas, no child or even adult asked for a penny.

This weekend has also brought me to a small village called Hinxworth. I joined a program called HostUK which brings international students to live with a nice English family for the weekend. Taking a train from Kings Cross to Biggleswade, I was picked up by Dr. Adrian Lambourne and driven to his home which he shares with his wife in the small village that has a population of about 200. Hinxworth was a beautiful place, being able to see both sides of the town from the main road. There is a pub, a church, and a war memorial there alongside thatched roof cottages and cozy English homes. The Lambournes house was called 'Mole's End' and was highly interesting, with varying ceiling levels and dens that you crawl into at the top of the stairs. It turns out that like myself, they have done quite a bit of traveling and living abroad to Colombia, Jamaica and Oman, just to name a few. While enjoying great conversation about British politics and world society, they offered me drink after drink, leaving my lips never dry. This ranged from tea to coffee to wine to beer to whiskey to tea to coffee to coffee to tea and so on and so forth. I have never been so hydrated in my life!

The Saturday, Adrian took me along to erect a stage for a concert that evening that he was singing in. We went to a school to pick up supplies for an easily built stage. The church was in Stevenage and called "St. George and St. Andrews." A rather new church, the architecture was rather modern with arches on the inside holding up the roof that constantly reminded me of McDonalds. I was invited to sing in the rehearsal that afternoon, and if I held my own there, I might be able to sing in the concert. The program's centerpiece was the Faure's Requiem, which I have sung before and know well. The choir was about 90 persons of the 'older' variety and happy for me to lower the age average. Adrian had given me some spare music, and anything he did not have two of, we shared. We sang Bass I, or Baritone, which is very easy for me and I was invited back for the evening performance. The problem was I had no formal wear with me, only Jeans and some shirts. The Lambournes easily supplied me with a amazing tuxedo which fit me very well. I only had my hiking shoes but no one really saw my feet so it was fine. I think they had accidentally given me Adrian's suit though, so he had on a blue blazer and blue bow-tie instead of the classic black, but he didn't seem to mind. It was so great to sing in a choir again, since it is a rare chance for me to do so nowadays. I am so glad I was given that opportunity.

Sunday was actually quite remarkable. To continue with the Remembrance theme, It was Remembrance Sunday, with everyone wearing a poppy for the armed forces. We went to church at St. Nicholas, Hinxworth, where almost the entire village goes. And if you don't, there are questions on to where you are instead of church! A very old church, in the middle of a green pasture surrounded by a wall, with graves everywhere. It is quite beautiful. Five or six men are ringing the bells inside, you can see them behind the organ pulling away. It is rather fascinating, since they do it for almost a half hour, in a pattern to get the different tones in a scale sort of way. The service was one of the most moving I have ever been to. It was so intimate in a way that I have never felt. Everyone knowing who I was, or wondering who I was, since I was a new face was so refreshing compared to the granger of Westminster Abbey or St. Pauls. In the prayers of the People, The usher who was reading them, i have forgotten his name, but wearing all the medals from his war experiences, he broke down when trying to read of the names of the departed or lost from the war effort. Another man took it over and finished the prayers when we saw him struggle. Deeply moving on such an important Sunday. As a parish, we all walked down to the War Memorial, which was basically the back yard of Mole End, and as the clock struck 11, the names of those lost from the town of Hinxworth were read and a wreath was placed. Suddenly 'God Save the Queen' was sung by all and a prayer was said to conclude the ceremony. This was all followed by coffee at the pub.

A great slice of English life. I really cant thank the Lambournes enough for their hospitality and conversation.

So only a few more weeks left here as the countdown to December ticks away. A fantastic girlfriend of mine is transcribing my travel journal of Europe for me since it seems she can read my handwriting better than I can, so look out for that in coming days. Pictures are up on Picasa of all of Europe if you haven't checked them out!