On Gratitude.

For over twenty years I've been living at or visiting my grandparents' house in Lahaina.  I've ate countless meals on dishes that have been used time and time again.  I've helped out in the kitchen oodles of times, so much that I could tell you where that spatula, wooden spoon, or electric beaters are located without giving it a second thought.  This Thanksgiving was no different.  Bring out the old MAC knife (sharpened so many times that there's a crack in it) from the left hand drawer, grab the blue plastic cutting board from under the sink, chop the potatoes, place them in the metal pot with the black handles and put it on the stove.  Same old, same old.

It wasn't until I was washing the dishes that I took notice of something I had never before.  I examined the plates.  I know it sounds silly, but I really took a good look at them and noticed their intricacies.  Unlike families on TV, my grandparents do not own matching sets of plates - unless you count those cheap blue and white ones from Longs (you Hawaii people know which ones I'm talking about).  It seems that they have a collection of random plates each with its own character.  One in particular that I absolutely love was made in Japan ... according to the red stamp on the bottom of the plate.  The black, glossy bottom is smooth and cool to the touch.  The top of the plate is beige and textured with indentations - almost like a lava rock.  Black chrysanthemums, bamboo, and butterflies are etched into the top of the plate in beautiful simplicity.  I wish I had taken a picture because my description does not begin to describe how pretty this plate is.

The strange thing is that I've eaten off of this plate before.  I guess I just never took time to appreciate it for what it is.

In reflection, I realized that I may do the same to my family.  I see them so often, pass through the house, say hi, say bye, talk story.  I need to show my gratitude for all of the advice, the direction, discipline, happy times, and for all that they provide. 

Like the plates, my gratitude for their love is always there, but I need to take the time to show it.  To say thank you.  To ask about their past.  To learn about our ancestors.  To show I care.  Though Thanksgiving day seems to bring out the sentimental side of me, as does the holiday season, this type of gratitude should be shown all year long.

To my family - thank you.

Home Is Where the Heart Is

If this saying is true, then I sure have a lot of property tax to pay. 

This summer I've left a little bit of my heart in Durham and Winston-Salem North Carolina, sprinkled in flat 12 of the FSU London Study Centre, dabbed through the streets of Paris, a dash in the California Hotel in Las Vegas, littered through Waikoloa on the Big Island, smeared in Kihei, and scattered through Lahaina.  My final resting spot for the moment is at our humble Manoa home.

One of my favorite things about our house is its simplicity.  We have quiet evenings and each morning I am woken by the chirpping of happy birds who often are ready to start their day a bit earlier than I.  Sounds sort of Cinderella-eque, but it's true.  Nothing new, nothing fancy, just a good place populated with good people.

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If you were to ask me where I'm from, I would tell you Lahaina.  Although my parents moved us to Kihei while I was still in elementary school, I had no connection to the place or the people.  Anything that was important to me was in Lahaina - school, friends, grandparents.  Even our dog, Skooter, traveled with us each morning on the 30 minute trek across the Pali so he could stay at our grandpa and grandma's house while we went to school.

When I moved to Oahu to attend college at the Unviersity of Hawaii Manoa, I would get thoroughly upset if someone had accidentally asked "when are you going back home to Manoa?".  I would immediately (and stubbornly) respond "Maui is home - not Oahu".  It took me years to get out of that habit.

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I'll be moving back home to Maui permanently in about four months.  Up until now, I've been somewhat of a vagabond - drifting from place to place depending on the time of year - always with the resolve that MAUI IS HOME.  Now that moving day is descending on me quite quickly, I've realized how much I actually do love my life here in Manoa.

I loved my life in London.  On the Big Island.  In Lahaina.  In my first blog, I talked about how this summer would be an adventure of a lifetime.  It really was.  I learned how to exist outside of my comfort areas and to really appreciate all that I have in Hawaii.  While I am excited to be heading home to Maui, I know that I will miss all the conveniences of not-quite-city-but-close-enough life. 

Somehow I know, though, that all these places are sort of like home.  If I ever decide to visit or move anywhere mentioned, there would be arms to welcome me (and the rest of my heart) back. 

Photo Album

Hi All,

Here is my photo album. It's simple. I think it's sort of like the perfect nacho bite - you know when you get that one chip with a little bit of everything on it? Yummm!

Again, thanks for a wonderful trip. This book is chronological ... too bad my captions got messed up. Oh well!

London in Letters - A Digital Story for My Nephew

I was shooting for a kid's book theme with this one :).

The Last (Official) Blog: Waking Up With My Eye on an Elbow and Other Random (Semi-Digested) Thoughts

I woke up this morning with an elbow in my eye ... okay, okay, to be fair to Nick ... I woke up this morning with my eye on an elbow (must have turned my head the wrong way).  This startled me and I shot up in bed a little dazed and confused.  Where was Alicia and her cute blanket?  Why couldn't I hear Elizabeth having her morning cereal and fruit?  And, well ... I could never hear Katy because she was always talented enough to squeeze an extra 15 minutes of sleep out of the morning.  After a couple of seconds, I realized that I was no longer in London, flat 12.  The mixture of cold air pumping out of the AC and the heat trying to fight its way through the window told me that I was in fact, safe and secure in Las Vegas.

The funny thing is that the whole London experience feels like it was just a dream - sort of like floating through a haze of beautiful scenery, laughing it up with super-fantabulous people, and the murmur of tour guided history in the background.  Funny to think that it was only a day ago that I was there.

I guess traveling back over several time zones, over 15 hours of flying, 8 hours of layover, and 3 hours of delays can also add to that sense of elongated time.  My body was so tired after all that flying and waiting - but I wasn't able to fall asleep when we got to the hotel at 3:00am, Vegas time.  Instead my wonderful boyfriend allowed me to amuse him with stories from abroad, while we feasted on a club sandwich, a french dip, and french fries (formerly known to me as "chips" or "pomme frites").  Like the patient guy he is, he waited until I was tired (at 6am) to fall asleep.

Today was spent recovering.  A hearty serving of kim chee saimin was like a bowl of reality - bringing me from my floating dream state back down to Earth.  We lazied about downtown Las Vegas, wandered into stores, and gawked at street entertainers.  All the while, I couldn't stop talking about London and how the two cities are so different.  Vegas has lights, London has architecture.  Vegas is hot, London is cool.  Everything comes in excess in Vegas, London is more minimalistic.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wonder how long my friends and family will let me keep talking about London and Paris before they tell me that it is "old news".  I ponder how long before the sights and sounds become a blur - details of tours gone by just a fading memory.  How many memories will be brought back by looking at old pictures, reading blog posts, and glancing at brochures in a month, a year, ten years?

~~~~~~~~~~

During our second to the last dinner in London, a conversation started up at the table about how ten minutes can change your life.  You could decide to go left instead of right.  Say no, rather than yes.  Well, I'm glad that I opened up that random mass email from one of my professors (because normally I trash them without looking) which told me about the London study abroad.  I'm glad I decided to pay the confirmation money on the last day, rather than letting the deadline slip by.  I'm grateful that I took the opportunity to pack myself up and allow myself to be a part of such a wonderful journey.

How did this change my life?

I don't want to over-generalize, but I believe that a good portion of Hawai'i residents don't get to travel as much as they'd like.  One big factor, I think, is the money - the price of living back home is flat-out expensive.  I always saw myself traveling, but being the dreamer that I am, that's all it was.  A sort of skewed vision that never seemed close enough to be real - perhaps I felt that thinking it would be enough.  Another thing for me was that the rest of the world seemed so incomprehensible.  In order to travel abroad, you need documents, different money, places to stay, ways to get around, an idea of what to do once you get there.  Packing needs to be light, but enough so you don't run out of clothes.  The plane rides are long and often times require connections.  You may be in places where people don't speak the same language as you do.

The London experience helped me to understand that traveling is not as difficult as I always made it out to be.  I have come to realize that desire is enough - and even though you may not know everything about your destination, adventures always find you.  On top of this, I have used numerous Web 2.0 applications which may be of great help once I am ready to start job hunting.  This blog, as well as the things embedded in it, can serve as sort of a personal portfolio to what I've learned.  Somehow, the world isn't so big anymore.

I had some really great rooibus lemonade from Caribou Coffee on my long layover in Atlanta.  I wish I had room in my bags to keep the cup because it so appropriately read "spin the globe then pack your bags".  I think this is a great motto for myself in the upcoming years.  I'm still young, full of energy, and not terribly attached to too much responsibility.  Why shouldn't I try to see more of the world.  This trip allowed me to understand how awesome travel is - not only to learn new cultures, but also to build stronger character.

Rocket (Wo)Man

I left home for three weeks to come to London and study abroad.  My main reason for being here was to experience a different culture and earn credits at the same time - I meant to do this since my undergraduate studies.  I've had a great time here - I have been exposed to some Web 2.0 applications and I have learned heaps about London (histories, architecture, culture, etc etc).  As with most things in life, there came with this experience unexpected lessons.

One of the greatest things about studying abroad is being able to meet people.  In complete honesty, I was a little nervous about coming here alone, not knowing a single person.  I had hoped that I could talk at least one of my library school buddies to come along, but to no avail.  Not that I don't love my classmates back home, but thinking back, I'm glad I was forced to get to know people.  I think that being here for only three weeks encouraged us to forge relationships quite quickly, as we relied on each other from day to day.

The relationships we've created are ones that I will never forget (cue sappy music).

I'm constantly trying to find ways to be a better person - to be grateful, humble, friendly, and fair.  It is difficult to be like that all the time.  During this trip, I have met some incredible people who remind me how to be the person I want to be.  My classmates are full of smarts, compassion, love, and zest for life.

Although I appreciate London and all we've done here, I appreciate and cherish getting to know the awesome 13 classmates I've spent the last 21 days with even more.  If you all are reading this sappy goodbye please look me up in Hawai'i if you are ever around.  It would be my pleasure to share my home with you!

I leave you with the song that always rings in my head before a flight ... sung by the one and only Jason Mraz.

Forever Young

This is the boy who would never grow up - Peter Pan.  Here he is in all of his glory, standing frozen in time in Kensington Gardens.  I totally understand why he wouldn't want to grow up ... especially if Neverland really looked like this:

Today, we visited the Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Playground.  Here I am getting in touch with my inner child (although it doesn't take too much to get it out) - most of the embarrassing photos/videos were taken by classmates, while I was busy acting foolish.  The best thing about the playground is that it is strictly for kids and their caretakers.  Adults are only allowed on the premises if they have a child they are accompanying or during limited hours from 9:30 am - 10:00 am.  Although this meant that I only had a half an hour to frolic through this magical, musical wonderland, I think it's a great rule.  Children should be able to cherish their childhood without "grown-ups" taking over.

~~~~~~~~

This got me thinking ... if I had the choice, would I go to Neverland?  Although the idea of being forever young is quite enticing, I don't think I would choose to because my life would only be viewed from the lens of one age.  Take this whole study abroad trip, for example.  When I first went out of country, it was to Japan with one of my best friends.  I was probably around 11 or 12.  I don't remember much of the historical importance of the places we went, and I am unsure of the cultural value of the temples we visited or sights we saw.  I was more interested in running through the rice paddys and poking fun at the way many of the locals were dressed.  This of course, was totally acceptable for a young adolescent.

As I reflect on the past few weeks, I remember all that I have seen, experienced, and learned.  I am taking with me a greater respect for England, as well as an appreciation and curiosity for the histories I've learned here.  I am taking note of interesting conversations my brilliant classmates and I have shared so I can study up on them upon my return to Hawai'i.  The lens of a 26 year old is still kind of fuzzy.  Life doesn't seem to be in focus, and everyone still seems to know more than I.  This is okay, though.  I will catch up, grow up, and embrace all that I have learned along the way. 

One day.

Still young at heart and mind -- Tara, out.

The Beauty in Stained Glass and Information

Stained glass windows have always made me feel a sense of awe and wonder.  I've seen more stained glass on this trip than I have in my lifetime at home.  Today, the above sparked a curiosity in me and I began to question how it is made.  Eager to find the answer to my question, I jumped on my computer as soon as I got home from a beautiful day in Oxford.

Making glass in Medieval times was not as easy as it may seem.  In fact, furnaces back then were unable to get hot enough to melt the silica on their own, so additives like lead or soda had to be incorporated to help the process along.  Colored glass was made by adding various substances into the molten silica - depending on the desired color of the final product.  For example: blue was made by adding cobalt, and red by adding gold.  An elaborate process of either hand blowing or hand stretching the materials produced colored glass. 

Once the glass was prepared, the window had to be measured and the plans sketched out.  The window maker needed to be especially mindful to ensure a secure fit for the glass.  These windows would have to survive all sorts of weather conditions.  Once a pattern was laid, each piece was painstakingly cut out to the desired shape.  Details such as hair or faces could be painted on and were usually made out of a combination of lead or copper filings, gum arabic, ground glass, and a sort of acid (vinegar, wine, or urine).  The final step would be to fit the glass into the soldered lead housing and force an oily cement between the cracks to prevent rattling (information found at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stained_glass).

Each window has its own character, purpose, or story.  My favorite stained glass window on this trip has to be this one from the Christ Church Cathedral in Oxford:

This beautiful piece depicts the life of St. Frideswide, the patron saint of Oxford.  Knowing her story of being pursued by a man pleading for her hand in marriage helps make this window wonderful.  I encourage you to read about this lovely lady. 

~~~~~~~

Being able to look up this information and to have the ability to learn something new so instantaneously is a direct contrast to what we learned about information at Oxford's historical Bodleian Library.  Here, we were able to view books as they were presented hundreds of years ago - chained to the wall.  Library school has taught me how precious books were prior to the invention of the printing press and I saw it in action today.  

I am so thankful to be living in an information age, where the answers to all of my questions can be found if I look hard enough.  Online resources are helpful, as is the printed word.  Libraries are free to use, thus knowledge is free to those who seek it.

As beautiful and wonderful as stained glass is - I also find my freedoms to obtain information wonderfully beautiful, too.

Flying free -- Tara

London > Paris?

One would think that I would be excited, giddy, and bursting at my seams upon first touching foot in Paris.  I mean come on -- it's Paris.  The city of lights, love, and  all that is grand.  It is difficult to imagine that I got off of the train groggy and thoroughly confused.

This calls for some personal history:

1. This is only my second time abroad.  This is my first time travelling abroad (sort of) on my own.
2. The first time I went abroad was the summer before my 8th grade year.  I went to Japan with a friend and her mom who have family in Niigata.
3. I don't speak a second language - the closest I get is understanding a handful of words in Japanese and Hawaiian.
4. We've been staying in London - in an English speaking country.

So, I'll be honest and say that one of the first utterances in this beautiful city was "did you understand that?".  I have never had to deal with being on the other side of a language barrier.  Sure, when I worked at the Hyatt Regency Maui as a Recreation Attendant (aka "pool girl" -- some of the best working times in my life) I was able to rely on my ever-present body language.  However, I never knew what it was like to be on the other side - frustrated, embarrassed, and unable to communicate.

All that pressure seemed to weigh down on me.  The language barrier coupled with the fact that Paris seemed a bit more rough around the edges than London - think a bit dirtier and a lot more beggars, did not give me the best first impression.  Not to mention the fact that we were carrying our lives on our backs (had to pack for the weekend, but wasn't able to check into the hotel until later on in the afternoon).

Things started to look a little up after we got started off in the city:

Touring the Louvre

Relaxing in the Tuileries

Lunch cruise + wine on the Seine River

Going up the Eiffel Tower

Basking in the beauty of Notre Dame

~~~~~~~~~

Needless to say, my mood did improve as the last bit of day one in Paris slipped away.  However, I'd be lying if I denied that a little piece of me wanted to return to the comforts of London.  I was still not comfortable forming the words "bonjour" or "merci" with my awkward mouth.  I quickly learned that being able to say "hello" and "thank you" are two of the most important things in to learn for Paris.  Most restaurant or shop owners find it rude not to greet them in this manner.  I read in Eric's Frommer's Guide that a muttering of these words or a meek smile is NOT acceptable.  It must be full-hearted and confident.

Here's what made me belt out "bonjor" and "merci" loud and clear (discovered on Saturday morning):

Hello Mr. Pain au Chocolat

My life will never be the same again.  The food in Paris is amazing.  As with in many other cultures, food there seems to be a connector.  For me, it connected me not only with the place, but also with the people I am traveling with.  I had a grand time searching for Jim Morrison's grave site at the Pere Lachaise Cemetery and scaling the bountiful stairs to the beautiful Sacre Coeur with Eric and Heather.  However, I think that some of the best times were spent around the dinner table - this one in particular:

Stuffed mussels

Oyster cheers

Bucket 'o mussels and pom frites

There's no resisting a light dessert of sorbet

~~~~~~~~~

In the end, I was passing out "bonjour" and "merci" and even an occasional "au revoir" to all of the helpful Parisians we encountered like it was Halloween candy.  So, with full stomach (dreaming of that pain au chocolat I bought for tomorrow's breakfast) I'm sitting at "home" in London wondering is London > Paris?  The answer is "no".  They are both beautiful in their own special ways (I totally mean it).   

To put it into French words I learned today, I am definitely experiencing the "joie de vivre" (joy of living), thankful for my minute in Paris:

Bonne Nuit ... good night!

Not Quite Hogwarts, But Awesome Nonetheless

Although I didn't make it through Platform 9 3/4 today (my face smacked up against the wall and the cart left without me.  Apparently, I don't have enough wizard in me) - I did go somewhere that felt almost magical.

The British Library.  Home to millions of individual items, this institution is absolutely amazing.  I could go on for hours repeating interesting facts, figures, and tidbits that our enthusiastic tour guide Mark shared with us, but I'd probably lose half of my readership (of what little I do have).  Instead, I'd like to reflect on my time spent in the gallery.

Before I go on, it is important to mention that items from the British Library cannot be checked out - it is not a lending library.  People can only gain access to resources by requesting them and after a staff member retrieves it for them, they can only use it in designated reading rooms.  This seems like a lengthy process, however; Mark informed us that on average about 5,000 to 6,000 books get delivered to the reading rooms daily.  He explained that there are generally two types of people who come to the library - those who come to use the resources, and the "tourists" who come to view the gallery (displays of very precious works).  He made sure to remind us that although the gallery may seem like a museum - the library, as a whole, is a working library for the public to use.

I saw so many (for lack of better words) awesome things in the gallery.  Laid out in front of me were handwritten Beatles music lyrics, sketches by Leonardo da Vinci, original handwritten Mozart music scores, ancient Buddhist readings, and letters written by Charles Darwin.  I remember reading about these historic figures in books, learning their histories, and getting tested on them - but they felt distant.  Today, I felt a closeness with these people.  I felt like I was peering into their thoughts, as if I were a part of their daily lives.  I wonder if they knew back then that one day lyrics scrawled on the back of their son's birthday card would become a priceless artifact which people were trying to preserve forever?

Of all the wondrous items on display in the gallery, there was one thing that left me awestruck - and nearly took my breath away. The Gutenberg Bible.   A year ago, it would have been just some old book in a case.  However, now that I have some understanding of its significance, it has become representative of something near and dear to me - that is bringing reading to the public.  In a nutshell, the Gutenberg Bible was one of the first books printed using the first portable printing press.  Thus, making written word available for those who wanted it (of course it was a bit more complicated than that, but you get the gist).  

Today was definitely a memorable, wondrous, and almost magical experience.  Although it's not Hogwarts, it sure is close.

Perfect End - Digital Video

Everyday I post a blog and a Facebook picture summing up and commenting on our daily activities.  While I imagine that this is a great way to share my experiences with the folks at home, there is a part of the day they don't see - what happens when the day ends.  As mentioned before, the days can be long (though thoroughly well worth it).  When I get back to the flat, I throw my things on my bed, turn on my computer, upload pictures ... and at some point I normally fall asleep.  The 20 minute power nap does wonders.

This digital film shows how my perfect London day would end.  Enjoy!

Through Tired Eyes

I noticed the crowds today -- I mean, really noticed them.  Because I noticed them, I began thinking about them in a context I hadn't before.  London is a busy city and I can imagine that from above it looks sort of like an ant hill.  Streams of people are always scurrying around in lines, some on a long journey, others burrowing deep into the earth (aka the Tube) - all trying to get somewhere or do something.  Here's some of the crowd shots I captured today:

Mobs of people at the Tower of London.

Waiting in line to get in - let's whip out the camera.

Ants on the way to the ant hill that is St. Paul's Cathedral.  Crossing the Millennium Bridge.

~~~~~~~~

I believe that there are a couple things responsible for why the crowds seemed so prominent today ... the first being that today marks the two week point in our journey.  Our little area of Bloomsbury is becoming familiar and though I haven't seen everything, many things are no longer new in my eyes.  I've become accustomed to side-stepping around camera wielding tourists and weaving and bobbing around large tour groups.  Now that my eyes are no longer looking up and around at all of the buildings, they are pointed straight ahead -- at the crowds.  This scene was multiplied today, as The Tower of London is a huge tourist attraction with many tight spaces.  I'm glad that we got there early enough to see the Crown Jewels without having to stand in a massive line.

The second reason is more of a personal opinion.  I sensed a general feeling of "over-it-ness" from the group today - this may not necessarily be true, perhaps just a vision from my tired eyes.  Two weeks of straight travel/touring and busier than busy eight hour days (not to mention hours of homework to be done) tend to tire one out - no matter how enthused the person.  Sore feet, tired legs, drooping eyes, packed brains, and aching backs made the crowds seem louder, more obnoxious, and stuffier than ever.  

The crowds also made me a little sad today.  The Tower of London is an ancient place - originally built in 1066.  It has housed royalty, served as a refuge, and even held prisoners captive.  What I saw today was a playground for little kids (who were running up and down the wooden staircases), surrounded by a gift shop whose merchandise reflect only the stereotypes of such a historic place. (*Side note: I sort of understand why - I come from a tourist driven economy). I can't even begin to imagine what the untold stories of this potentially wondrous place are.  I began to wonder how much of the building was original, and how much they have to replace on a regular basis.  I had the same thought yesterday as we climbed the 500 stairs at St. Paul's Cathedral.  There were indentations in the wooden stairs, marking the millions of tourists who have come through.  How will these places hold up for years to come -- and how can they maintain their cultural importance and integrity?

It seemed as if our normally chipper group dragged like zombies from our mile plus walk from The Tower of London to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre.  I'm not going to censor myself from saying that I was a little disappointed that we weren't scheduled to tour or experience the theatre at all - we merely gazed at it from the outside.  However, Elizabeth and I are going to try to get tickets for sometime next week.  I hate to blather on like some ungrateful soul - I mean, c'mon ... I'm in London.

Thankfully, I knew that this "get over the hump day" was eventually going to make its way into my schedule so I've mentally prepared myself for it.  I know myself well enough to know that at some point in time I would get tired and perhaps not feel as excited to be here - basically taking this incredible opportunity for granted.  Rather than extending this feeling through the rest of my days here, then realizing at the end that I regret feeling this way - it stops here and now.  Thank you blog for being a great form of release and a place for public ranting.

~~~~~

I am very much looking forward to visiting the British Library tomorrow, as well as the iconic Platform 9 3/4 at King's Cross.  A night of rest and relaxation will put me at ease for tomorrow's adventure - no longer with tired eyes.  They will be as bright and excited as they were on day one.  I'm going to leave you with a short clip just for the pure joy of it :).  With promise of bright eyes and bushy tails tomorrow - Tara, out.

 

Tako's Adventure - A Five Photo Story

See if you can figure out what happened to Tako and me in this five photo story:

Feel free to leave captions in the comment box below :).

Three Thousand Fifty-Six Stairs (more or less) and Counting

Upon arriving in London, Katy and I were faced with these stairs.  Each day, my flatmates and I have been battling them -- all 71 of them, to get to and from our flat.  On average I suspect that I take around three round trips daily.  That equals to 2556 stairs since we've been here (and that's only up, double that for the up and down).  Needless to say that after 13 days I have come to terms with these stairs ... heck, I have even begun to appreciate them.  Though I may be a bit biased, I do believe that we have the best flat.  Sometimes putting in a little bit of hard work pays off in the end.

You may be wondering why the extra 500 stairs in my title ... and I shall now share.  Today we toured St. Paul's Cathedral.  Our wonderful tour guide, John, gave us the scoops on the history of the Cathedral, pointed out interesting crypts, and even took us to this special place.  All you Potter heads should be able to recognize stairs from scenes in "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire".  It's real name is the Geometric Staircase.  I feel so much more informed about this wonderful building - it makes the experience so much richer.  To top off the day, classmates Kaitlin, Eric, Elana, and I climbed the 500 stairs to the top of the cathedral:

Spiral Staircase

Not for those who dislike tight spaces.

The view from a tiny little window.

The view from above - see the River Thames and the London Eye?

How would I have seen this without putting a little extra in?

~~~~~~

Something worth mentioning - I am, after all, a library student - was our trip to the Barbican Library.  Nestled between two art galleries in a business district in London, the Barbican Library is one of three lending libraries in the area.  I was most impressed by their music collection (of which they are known for). 

I was surprised to learn that children and adults get different library cards, thus restricting children from checking out certain videos or CDs.  When asked whether or not they do the same for books, the librarian mentioned that they do all that they can to encourage kids to read "appropriate" books.  The reason why this took me aback is because most librarians in the US would have a cow if this happened outright in their libraries.  Generally, librarians in the US back the ALA's (American Libraries Association) beliefs in Intellectual Freedom.  Basically, everyone has the right to have access to many different viewpoints through resources in the library.  It's quite the interesting topic, which can get very heated.

My favorite thing this about the library happened to be a children's program which is funded by England's Department of Education.  It is called Bookstart.  The premise is that every child should have access to and own books.  Thus children are given packs of books (for free!) at three stages in their development - the first coming at 18-30 months.  How cool is that?

It kind of goes to show how important reading is to this country.  Perhaps we should learn to take a few extra steps and begin something like this in the US - imagine the view our children will gain from it.

SUPERTOURed and SUPERTIRED, Tara.

Challenging Information

One of the best things about being abroad with a bunch of librarians is that everyone is so full of information - we are in fact, information scientists.  (Ha, I'm going to use that the next time someone asks me what career I'm getting into ... "I'm studying to be an information scientist".  Sounds impressive.)  It seems that wherever we go, someone knows about the place or people who lived, their histories, and how the we can learn from their mistakes.  At the same time, it can often be a bit intimidating for me.  On numerous occasions throughout this adventure, I have wondered where and how my classmates have picked up their vast stores of information.  I also wonder if I was perhaps daydreaming through that particular history lesson.  Judging by all that I don't know, that's a lot of daydreaming ... even for me.

Today we visited Hampton Court Palace - a place where royalty has lived since the 18th century.  Apparently, King Henry VIII had originally built it for a Cardinal Wolsey as a gift.  In time, Henry VIII lost favor for Wolsey and the palace was back in his hands.  The architecture of the building is quite impressive, as part of it is built in both Tudor and Baroque styles.  No, I did not know this information before today's trip - and sadly to say, I did not learn this information on today's trip ... I just looked it up on Wikipedia.  I would have loved to learn more on the tour, however, our audio guides were taken from us as we entered the gardens - bad thinking on the part of whoever designed the tours.  I'm going to admit that my knowledge of British history is quite shallow - I know that Henry VIII is a figure I should know, if not well, then at least a little.  My knowledge of him ends at the Herman's Hermit's song "I'm Henry VIII, I am" - I didn't want to admit it, but hey ... I'm being reflective.

Despite my lack of knowledge, I could appreciate the sights that I saw:

Knowledgeable or not about British history, one can tell that this was a wondrous palace where many important events took place.  As I was meandering through the beautiful gardens, I could just imagine a scene where courtiers walked the same paths on their way to dine in the presence of the king and queen. 

I, of course, felt a little more knowledgeable in the gardens - at least I could identify some of the plants.

Though I feel a bit ashamed with my limited knowledge in the area of history, finding this quote by Oscar Wilde made me feel a bit better - "You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know." 


The most challenging thing about information is that it is constantly building off of itself.  It would be difficult to learn how to do calculus without understanding the concept of numbers.  I admire all of my classmates for their knowledge and their willingness to share it with others - why else would you want to be a librarian?

With that, I have made a pact to myself to study up on the places before we get there.  Tomorrow we are off to St. Paul's Cathedral and Barbican Library - time to start getting a grip on this challenging information.

Podcast - London Travel

Hi All,

Please enjoy my Podcast on three different ways of getting around London - bus, Tube, and walking.

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Information about London Transportation was taken the Transport for London website.

Transport For London. (2007). Transport for london homepage. Retrieved from http://www.tfl.gov.uk/

The music was used under Fair Use guidelines. 

Artists: Opihi Pickers
CD Title: OP VI
Label: Go Aloha Entertainment
Copyright: 2007
Song Title: "Don't Just Stand Around"

Capturing the Ephemeral

How do you capture the ephemeral?  You can't.  I tried today.  The best I could do was photograph a fleeting moment, trying to freeze it in time.  I came to the realization that a photograph can only do so much.  It can capture a visual of the moment, perhaps hold some visual cues which set off an emotional reaction later, but there is no way to totally recapture an experience once it is gone. 

After sleeping in for a bit, my flatmate Elizabeth and I rode the tube to Kew Gardens.  I was overjoyed to learn that there was a butterfly exhibition - something I have always wanted to see, but never got around to.  I was also excited to learn about a water lily pond, which also excited me since they are such gorgeous flowers.  Here are a couple of my favorite shots from today:

Sunflowers.

Dangerous, but lovely.

Drinking in the sun.

A magnificent purple water lily.

At day's end, I know that these flowers will not look as they do here.  Perhaps they will lose a few petals, tatter at the edges a bit, or close up as if saying good night forever.  These pictures are a great reminder of their beauty, but they will not bring back as strong of an emotion that I felt when I first laid eyes on them.  The same goes with these lovely butterflies:

 

I have just recently started feeling a closeness to butterflies because I learned that they are pictured on my family's mon, or Japanese family crest. Each mon is given a description - according to my Great Aunty Aiko, ours is "ageha no chou". According to the Internet, this translates into "swallowtail butterfly" (which it is), but according to Aunty Aiko it describes the position in which the butterfly is posed. Here's my older sister Lauren and I after first realizing that the picture that has been hanging on Aunty's wall forever was actually our mon:

 

Asking about the mon

   

There it is - a little difficult to see.

If you search for the image "ageha chou", a similar picture will pop up. Although, I learned that each family mon was easily altered, so it's difficult to know yours unless a family member kept track of it. Thank you Aunty Aiko! 

Although I did not spot any swallowtails today, this little guy - a leaf butterfly, snuck up on me and landed on my shoulder.  I wasn't able to capture the shot (obviously because he was behind me), but I remember every detail about how it felt as he took refuge on me.  Closed up, he's trying to hide from the world, but believe me, his open wings are beautiful.  I equated that moment with the song below, which is wonderful because I also have fond memories of this song and my boyfriend (who I am missing dearly).  Please pardon the cheezy CGI butterfly and horrible music video - the song is really good, though:

I cannot capture every moment of this trip in its fullest - it is completely impossible because the trip itself is ephemeral.  I must savor each as it comes and "take it all in" as I have been advised by numerous people.  I know I am very fortunate.