14 September, 2009

Day Three and “Cutlery”

Actually, the sun was out the first day, too. It was actually kinda hot.

And the sky was almost as blue here as I know it is in New Mexico. Lindsay’s dorm overlooks a large hill we have aspirations to climb. I’m sitting on the windowsill right now writing this, looking at that big green hill and the courtyard of Holland House.

We did some Orientation stuff today, and got free food—the one meal I had to buy was worth it this time, but I am still finding myself for once in my life quite satisfied with not overeating. That should tell you something about the food. Met some nice people, though it doesn’t matter to me because I won’t be here in a week.

One hi-larious quick note before I go get ready for the Ceilidh (dance, pronounced “Kay-Lee”). Lesson One in mastering the Queen’s English (she can keep it, by the way): Knife, fork, spoon. Silverware, right? Any decent American knows precisely what you mean when you ask in a cafeteria where the silverware is stowed. Apparently, in Scotland/Britain,

you sound totally pretentious if you ask for “silverware”—like you’re asking for silver-ware. A nice blonde informed me of this in the sweetest, most bemused way: it sounded a little too patrician for her (after we had asked about nineteen other people where this silver-ware was).

“What, a knife and fork?” she said. (Not Scottish—very South English, smooth as butter.)

“Yeah, what do you call them?” my reply.

“Cutlery.” I think she thought I was cute, the way people find small children saying big words cute. “Silverware sounds a little more fancy, don’t you think?”

No, I did not think so. But I was glad she told me, anyway.

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