Parkour

For those of you who have no idea what Parkour is, it is a sport invented in France and is basically street running and stunts.  Here's a video I found on youtube of the guys who do this in Leicester.

LPA (Leicester Parkour Association)

I met a friend in the dance program who was telling me he taught parkour classes. I, being slightly mental, had this thought process:

1. Sounds like a great workout
2. I liked stage combat so this could be cool
3. I've always wanted to feel like a ninja
4. Jumping off of objects is pretty cool

I'm sure my parents are going to add this to the ever growing list of things that is making them prematurely grey. Whoops.

I arrived with other beginners via taxi and hung around and watched the kids class. Kids don't really have fear. They hurl themselves at walls for fun so they made this look easy. After we paid, we (25 of us) were taken outside for a warm up. We ran around the basketball court, did sprints, jumping jacks, squats, stretches, more running and more squats. That was just the warm up...

We were divided up into skill level and then taken to our first station. It consisted of gymnastics equipment and benches. I can't find a picture on the internet so you guys get to view my amazing drawing skills.

 I feel like this needs some translation. The brown thing is a hurdle and the red creature looking thing is a stool behind it. The green is another large hurdle. We had to run at the brown hurdle put our hand on the wall and scrunch ourselves to make it over. Then we jumped on the floor once and onto the red stool and then directly onto the green hurdle and down to the floor. This was supposed to be fluid... I was not fluid. I jumped directly into the middle of the green one, but managed to drag myself over.

Station 2!

I loved this one! By far my favorite and the one where you could even say I excelled. There were 3 hurdles of various heights and we ran at them and jumped over in random ninja like ways. My butt didn't want to cooperate completely and decided to skid when it was supposed to fly over the hurdles. This was the only station where I didn't wipe out or faceplant.

Station 3... *Sigh*

I felt like I was in one of the movies that makes fun of people in gym class.... Here's a visualization of the stunt set up.

The ladder was attached to a wall with a yellow stool in front with another long bench in front.

We had to jump from the green to the yellow, which was easy enough. I'm pretty short so the distance was rather large... Then we had to fling ourselves at a ladder (there was a padded mat on it) and grab on and hold ourselves there.

Attempt 1: Bounced off the padding and landed on the floor

Attempt 2: Manged to grab with my hands and took the entire mat off the ladder and had it fling out across the floor

Attempt 3-5: Managed to grab on but with awful form

You may be asking yourself how the other beginners were doing?

They were ninjas.... I was the only person to wipe out on the majority of the stations. 

By the end of the hour and a half we spent rotating between stations my legs felt like jello. Were we done? Oh NO we were not...

For the next 30 min straight we did lunges, 10 min of squats, more lunges and then moved on to working out our arms. After that we got to have fun in the gymnastics room.

There was a giant squishy pad we were all trying to jump on and over. I managed to wow everyone again with my incredible falling skills. Man I'm talented.

After all of that I walked home and knew the next day was going to be a bad one for soreness. I went to bed barely able to sit down and woke up feeling like an 80 year old woman. It took me 3 days to be able to sit down without grunting loudly and to be able to dress myself without feeling like my muscles are trying to turn into the hulk. 

You may think I'm crazy, but I'm going back! 

I want to progress from the parkour equivalent of this:

To this:

 (I do not own the last 2 pictures)

While providing prime entertainment during the process. 

"An adventure may be worn as a muddy spot or it may be worn as a proud insignia. It is the woman wearing it who makes it the one thing or the other." -Norma Shearer

My Biggest English Peeve

I have grown up in the United States my entire life and I never really gave a second thought about washing my hands until I came here. Back home, we have one faucet, or for the English readers out there, the tap only has one spout that water comes from so we can regulate temperature. England hasn't quite gotten up to speed on this technology or has a sick sense of humor. I'll leave that open to interpretation.

I have had numerous conversations about this English faucet/tap phenomenon and we have all come up with a single response: WTF?  I have FINALLY found the best visual for explaining this:

 (I do not own this picture)

When I first came here I was pretty confused as to why sinks were like this... This only occurs in the bathroom where we want water temperature to be regulated the most. The only way to not get frostbite or burn your skin off is to turn both faucets on at once and quickly run your hands back and forth until you have the desired temperature. THIS IS NOT PRACTICAL OR PLEASANT. So please England, conform to the world standard on this one thing. You will be surprised how pleasant luke warm water can be when washing your hands and face.

"Make something idiot proof and life will make a better idiot"

Wales: Home of the Consonant Lovers

Earlier in the semester I went to a seminar presented by member of the Royal Army. After dating several military guys and knowing quite a few more this seminar hit close to my heart. These soldiers have set up a program to use archaeology as a rehabilitation program for soldier suffering from PTSD or depression. They brought the soldiers to a site and set it up as a military operation. They were taught all of the skills they needed and conducted a full excavation. At the end of the seminar one of the soldier who had gone through this program shared his story and told everyone that if it was not for this program he would have committed suicide. It had taught him skills that were applicable to many jobs and applied everything he learned in the military while giving him a sense of purpose.

I got the opportunity to participate in the beginnings of one of these excavations. Soldiers were present, but none who really suffered from anything. Everyone had an interest in it and it was nice to get to teach people what I knew. Low level archaeologists such as myself don't really get an opportunity to teach people anything. That is usually left to the supervisors and lead archaeologists. The dig was in Wales, in the city of Caerwent (Pronounced Carwen). I got up at the ripe time of 6am to be picked up at 7am. I was in and out of consciousness, but surprisingly to anyone who knows me I was in a great mood!

We got to the site and spent the entire day clearing off trees and sticks and everything else imaginable. We found a pile of tin and we were instructed to dig it out. My Dad will be proud of me for pointing out to every single guy on the site that they were shoveling in the incorrect way and proceeded to show them all how it was done and out-shoveled a very beefy 26 year old military man. That how Americans roll I guess. Underneath the tin we discovered an odd feature and we got to dig. I actually got to trowel!!!! The lead archaeologist stepped aside and told me to go for it. It was nice to have that opportunity. While working for my Dad is great I don't really get the opportunity to do much trowelling myself. It's more the people who know what they're doing due to time constraints. I'm there for brute force, all 120 feisty lbs of me.

The digs for the soldiers are more centered around making sure everyone gets to try something new and hone their skills. They are under time constraints, but everything is so efficient that things get done sooner than planned so there's time to teach people new things. Speaking of new things, I got to learn how to operate a magnetometer and a ground penetrating radar machine! I looked like I was dragging around a pathetic vacuum cleaner while imitating a scene from Ghostbusters, but it was pretty cool nevertheless.

Later that day we went back and were discussing plans for dinner. I got an agonizing pain in my stomach and was driven to the nearest hospital or A&E as they call it. Spent 8 hours there in various stages of pain from my stomach, the nurse who couldn't find my vein after 4 tries, an IV drip of some kind of drug one step below morphine and from throwing up due to all the drugs I was on.

8 hours later: no idea what was wrong with me except "you have an abdominal infection"  Why THANK you! I couldn't have figured that out by myself... Long story short. I'm fine now and back in Leicester. I had to take a LOT of medication and discovered codeine (don't worry it was prescribed to me) does hilarious things to me. For example, Laura (my best friend) spent the night with me to make sure I was okay and did not need to go back to the hospital. I ended up serenading myself singing my own version of jingle bells while accompanying myself by banging my lamp cord against my wall as a musical instrument simulation. Imagine Laura's face walking back into the room to that. Apparently I was a priceless spectacle to witness. Never want to experience that again that's for sure.

All in all I learned a lot that weekend.  1: Wales is gorgeous and they have a castle that hosts jousting competition. 2: My abdomen hates me. 3: Drugs are bad. 4: I have some great friends I wouldn't trade for the world. Yes that's cheesy, but you can tell who your true friends are when they spend 8 hours in the emergency room with you and wake up in the night just to check if you're okay.

I almost forgot!!! Every road sign is in Welsh and English. We had a field day trying to pronounce everything. For example spring water is: ffynnon yrystog.   Several towns are called: Blaenau Ffestiniog, Ebbw Vale, Machynnllyth, Usk, and Ystradgynlais.   Good luck pronouncing those lovely names. As we said on the drive there and back "Oh look! We're now in the town of.... asdknnefwuit...fffg...gll....?"   

And I Thought VA Weather Was Bizarre

After growing up in Virginia and then going to school in North Carolina I have become accustomed to psychotic weather. To those of you who had the pleasure of being as equally confused as I have by living here you know what I mean. One day you're lounging by the pool and wearing shorts. The next day you're stuck inside because it's snowing and the next day it seems as if a monsoon has taken residence above your house.

It may sound extreme, but it has happened. When someone says "English weather" most people have images coming to mind about rain, rain, rain and more rain. They are correct. However, I genuinely believe the English influenced the weather on the east coast of the US when they came over to colonize. Today I experienced the schizophrenic weather VA is known for, but in England.  In a 5 minute time span... and I do not exaggerate, I witnessed the following outside my window:

The typical English sky saying "I'm going to look like I'm about to rain so everyone has to carry umbrellas and wear raincoats, but I'm not going to rain HA."

No that isn't Leicester, (nor do I own that picture). I would never leave if it was.

I then had the pleasure of viewing gale force winds that abruptly started and have not stopped for the past few hours..

I know I've used this picture in my last post, but it's appropriate.  

Then out of nowhere a HUGE hail storm and I kid you not the entire ground turned white there was so much of it

 (I do not own this picture)

That lasted about 10 seconds then .. sunshine?

 (I do not own this picture)

If those of you who are reading this think this is weird trying witnessing it. You may be asking yourself hmm I wonder what Emma's reaction to this was? Well here you go. Enjoy :)

Bring on 2012!

New Years! A time for resolutions! Although most people see a resolution as a plan for the first 2 weeks of the year, I plan on keeping mine. For once I actually have several resolutions that I put a lot of thought into.

I decided to send off 2011 with a bang. Laura and Derek were already in London and I made the journey there. How many Americans can say they spent New Years Eve in London watching fireworks on the banks of the Thames? This girl can! Laura and I spent the day people watching and just having a great time catching up since we hadn't seen each other in about 3 weeks. We met up with our friend Brittany for dinner and found an interesting place with god awful service. The English are definitely not renowned for their impeccable food service skills. They don't work for tips so I guess that plays a bigger part than I thought. We had a gourmet meal of microwaved cornish pastries and the driest cookie I have ever tasted in my life. Eat chocolate flavored chalk and you will have tasted the equivalent of my cookie.

Moving on. It's tradition for Laura and I to spend New Years Eve together and in the past 14 years we have only missed one year. We always watch the ball drop in Times Square. It always amazed me just how many people were crammed into Times Square and I always wondered what that would be like. I now know what it feels like to be a sardine in a can.

We attempted to move closer to the bank of the Thames, but moving 50 feet took 30 minutes so we decided that was a lost cause and went back to our spot on the bridge. Being as vertically challenged as I was I managed to not be able to find a spot to see over half of the London Eye, which was lit up and changed colors.

After 4 hours of playing word games, watching drunk people, buying over priced drinks and consequently giving up on drinking the countdown began!!  The countdown started at 30 seconds to midnight and the entire crowd yelled at the top of their lungs. Right at midnight the fireworks went off. London knows how to do a fireworks show. Fireworks were exploding everywhere and even coming out of the London Eye itself. It was one of the best shows I have ever seen in my entire life.

It was a pretty odd feeling to know that I was celebrating 2012 while everyone I knew back home was probably eating dinner.

That was just a small taste of the fireworks. The real thing was so much better!

My New Years resolutions include the normal idealistic things, but also some goals I want to achieve:

1. Keep in touch with friends and family back home more than I have

2. Get closer with my family

3. Audition for plays in England

4. Graduate from the MA program

5. Run in the total warrior marathon

6. Travel to 3 countries

7. Start making the documentary I have planned

8. Make more new friends

9. Eat a more healthy diet

10. Be a better person.

As cheesy or odd as some of those may sound, I AM going to achieve them all. This year is going to be amazing. I'm living abroad and getting an opportunity most people only dream of. I can't wait to see what this year has in store for me :) 

It's Beginning to look a lot like... wait... It's Christmas?

England must be confused. That's the only explanation for it. The temperatures are in the mid-40s and it's sunny outside. I happened to be watching the news and I was informed this was the hottest winter England has ever experienced on record. I guess I brought the heat with me. My reaction to this? "DAMN IT! I wanted to see some snow!"

Winter break here consists of 6 weeks. The term 'break' is misleading. A break is what undergrads get to enjoy. All around me, my friends boasted of:

1. Going to America
2. Going skiing in France
3. Going to Prague
4. Seeing family
5. Something else extremely fun and adventurous

You might be asking yourselves what did Emma do with her time?
1. Research
2. Boredom
3. Exercise
4. Boredom
5. Papers
6. Research

Not exactly the break I had been picturing. After literally every person I had come to know and love in Leicester had gone home or jet-set off to foreign lands I begrudgingly began my 5000 word papers each worth 50% of my final grade. After a week and a half of that and nearly going insane from a lack of human contact my flatmate Olivia rescued me!

Off I went to Derby! For those Americans reading this it is pronounced Darby. I tried to inform them there was an 'e' in there, but that didn't do much. Christmas is a time of giving and a time for family. I usually spend Christmas unwrapping presents with my family in our sun room, just the three of us and then go see extended family the day after. It was a very different experience indeed. I earned the nickname Kevin. Some of you might have just made a weird face wondering how in the world I managed to obtain that one. Olivia's brother decided to call me that since I was all alone here and was pretty much abandoned for Xmas aka the same story that happened to Kevin in the Xmas classic Home Alone... minus the getting robbed aspect.

 Twins right? Yeah, thought so too.

Olivia's family consisted of 18 other people and we all shared a mansion. Not exaggerating. It was the typical mansion with a cottage that I swear came straight out of the murder mystery movies like clue. I went around the house pulling on candle sticks and pushing parts of the fireplaces (which were in almost every room) just to see if I could find a hidden passageway. Sadly the house didn't reveal its secrets.

As sad as I was that I was spending Christmas away from home for the first time in my life I had an amazing time. It just felt like a week away with friends instead of Christmas. There was no snow. TONS of rain. We passed the time by playing murder mystery games, watching tv, movies, Jenga, and pool.

On our last full day there we decided to go to a moor that was nearby. It was so pretty! I was the only outdoorsy younger person there so I think I enjoyed it a lot more than everyone else. I would just like to say HOLY CRAP moors are windy. I never really knew just how ridiculous wind could be until I was literally knocked over and rolled down a hill by the wind. Yes that actually happened.

All in all it was a really fun experience. While I was there I managed to scare the life out of everyone there. My best friend of 14 years got engaged. I was in the honorable position of being the first one to hear about it. I received a text saying they were engaged. I immediately screamed and ran down 3 flights of stairs yelling the entire time, told Olivia and we proceeded to jump, scream, and rejoice together. All of the older generation thought someone had murdered someone else and that's why we were screaming, the younger generation was confused and thought we were extremely odd.

I am now back in Leicester and STILL writing papers and researching. Oh how the holidays have come full circle! Merry Christmas everyone!