Pictoral impressions

Some photos from Liverpool and what I've been up - be sure as to check regularly for updates!

Happiness has a shape, it is round and it flies.

So it appears I have rediscovered what I found so amazing about Liverpool in the first place. It's called... *drumroll*... Frisbee people. Seriously, most fantastic people in the world. Not that church people aren't also very lovely people, but these people get me and are just as crazy as I am (well, not júst as crazy). I've spent a lovely week with these people and by Jove (this is my newest expression, do you like it? I'm adapting to a historical level), they are awesome. Tonight I'm having a chickflick night/sleepover in my house/room, as I finally got all my dvd's back and that should be celebrated. As all the guests (4) are frisbee girls, this is going to be freakin' awesome (I'm using the word awesome a lot, must be indicative of my mood).

I am generally very happy. Yes, there are some glitches which are not that great (the old classics, money and guys), but apart from those, which, one has to admit, are just superficial things, I am generally very happy. The financial situation will sort itself out (I am trying to get my hands on some compensation for my dogbite and I'm planning on going to the financial department to get some money from them, plus I will be working from October onwards) and guys, well, it's not really worth being depressed over. Why be sad because one guy might not be in the position you want him to be, while you have such amazing friends all around you?

It appears I have found myself again, my life, my friends, my studies. I have people who ask me around, people to confound in, people to be all geeky about literature and history with. My life is unfolding, the landscape of people is taking its form (for those who know my writing, the landscape of friends is a very popular theme). Soon I'll be roaming its hills, happy and singing like Maria, but without the endless amount of children. I wouldn't object to the Captain, though.

More on uni

As I have a little more time than yesterday, I will give a short review of what the two following years at university will entail.

As I am a part time student, my course has been split up in two parts of a year (that was kind of obvious). This year, I am more or less doing all the interesting courses. In the first semester, I am taking 2 hours a week of the core History module (see last blogpost), 2 hours of Latin (yes, indeed, Latin!) and 2 hours every other week or so of 'Medieval Gender and Identity', an optional module I took to replace 'Locating Sources' next year (and good riddens). This last course is an English department course, which means I will be studying Literature (yay!), and it will only consists of six students and a teacher, all female, and it will be amazing. We will be discussing the stereotypical women in medieval literature (the queen as a goddess, the woman as representative of the country, Guinevere etc). It should be insanely interesting and I am quite sure it will be.

Next semester, I will take the second part of the core History module and 2 hours of Latin Paleography a week (yes, that's why I am studying Latin in the first semester). For those who do not know what Paleography is, it is basically reading old manuscripts in the typescript and in the form they were produced and found. No modern translation, no modern font, just reading pen strokes from scheep skin, so to speak. That too should be insanely interesting, as I've done some Old Dutch Paleography and very much enjoyed it, and always found the translation of Latin texts the most fun in secondary school.

Now, onto next year. That year is going to be endlessly dull. I am taking all the research modules and I just can't be fussed, to be honest. First semester will be 'History and Theory' (Nietzsche, Foucault, Marx...), and for those who know me, you are all aware of how much I loathe philosophy, so that's going to be one long journey of boredom. Together with that, I will get the course 'Sources and Methodes for Medieval and Renaissance Studies', a specific module of a course I failed twice at the KUL and then was mercifully let through because of "failing points". So that too will be a nightmare. In my last semester I will get 'Feasibility Study', of which I have no idea what it entails, but it sure does not sound interesting (it's something about taking the theory seen in the first semester and applying it to your dissertation subject). And then over the Summer, I will write my dissertation. Because this second year sounds so horrifying, I will try and take some extra modules (Irish Studies, Old English), as to try and brighten things up a bit, because otherwise I will never be able to see things through.

But, those are worries for later. First, this year, which is going to be amazing. Hooray!

Very excited about uni

I have barely any time, as my friends are coming to pick me up in a minute or so to go (watch them) snowboarding, but I thought I'd just give you a little taste of what my year is going to be like (more will follow later). These are the subjects for the next 12 weeks of Core History Module:


- Introductory Session: Exploring Uses of the Past (aka, reading old text fragments and discussing its contents, to kind of get in the groove and get to know each other and each other's previous training and knowledge a little bit more)
- The Bishop and the Dragon
- Stories of Kings of Britain
- Telling and Re-creating the past: The first crusade and its many (hi)stories, part one
- Telling and Re-creating the past: The first crusade and its many (hi)stories, part two
- The ambiguity of history: uses of the past in machiavelli's "the prince"
- The print revolution
- From orality to print
- The authority of the past in reformation England, part one: Deploying the past
- The authority of the past in reformation England, part two: re-writing the past

What a day, what a day, oh, what a day.

I just had the most wonderful day. Literally, it was amazing. We were supposed to be going to Southport to an airshow. My friends Liz and Tom (Frisbee) had invited me and somehow, my friends Will and Luke (Church) ended up tagging along. Early rise, which was not too bad, on the bus, to Central Station, where it turned out that both Dan and Kat (Frisbee) were joining us for the day, as well as two other friends of Liz and Tom's. We all got on the train and set off, the rain leaving slight trails on the windows. With nine people crammed into eight seats, the banter soon hit the wagon and in under fifteen minutes, I felt so completely at home and joyful that I couldn't help but giggling for most of the time (inward, at times). One stop away from Southport, Liz gets a call from a friend, who explains that the air show has been cancelled due to flooding. We decide to stay on the train anyway and try and get a refund for our tickets. Facing a downpour of rain (okay, it was not that bad) and quite a slippery boardwalk - which would have been a lovely walk had the weather been better -, we finally made it to the pier, where we were told to get a refund through the website. Having no better thing to do, we fled into a bowling alley, where we learned exactly how expensive Southport is (Very). In the meanwhile, James, one of Liz and Tom's friends, gave me 15 tickets which he had won by putting 50p in a slot machine, and I got a tiny airplane for it. Which was really nice. Seeing as there wasn't really anything to do, off we went, back to the station (stopping at a chippy and a candystore on the way), back to Liverpool. In this great city, there was a festival going on at Hope Street (one of the main roads), which was (very conveniently) called Hope Street Festival. Consisting mainly of street theater and food stalls, the festival offered a nice (though rainy) stroll which was very relaxing and enjoyable. This flood of culture added to the morning of randomness, moulding the whole day into a rather perfect day. After the group split up and the Frisbee people headed to the pub, we headed into the Philharmonic Hall, where we attended 40 minutes of free Philharmonic Orchestra, which left me completely awestruck. As a child, I went to quite a few concerts, what with my dad being in a choir and my uncle being a professional violinist, but I always got rather bored with them and developed an aversion towards them. But today, the music flooded me, filled my veins, made me smile and grin and almost cry with joy. I felt so at one with the melody, felt the drums booming in my stomach, rocked along with the sweeping strokes of the violins. It was absolutly incredible. But concerts end and on we went. As we stopped to watch a small theater act, me and Will got asked upon a little stage, he stroked a chicken and I milked a cardboard cow and together we had an imaginary picnic, in which we drank yukky milk (which he apparently liked) and Will held up an egg-and-cress sandwich. Seeing this as a good closure of the day, Will and Luke headed off, while I found my way to the pub where the rest of the group had been watching the Liverpool-Manchester United game. A rather aggressive Scouse girl scared me a little bit, but the treble gin made up for any discomforts. After finishing our drinks, onwards we went, to go play Wii at Tom and Liz's. We met Alex on the way, which was weird (the boy has grown at least two inches!), but good. I only had two more hours before I had to go to church, which, accompagnied by a good glass of wine, went by rather quickly, making me late for church (and slightly intoxicated; I almost fell asleep during the sermon). After the service had finished, I felt so bad (tired, slight headache, zoned out completely) that I was in grave doubt whether I was going to join the after-church fun, but the desire always wins from the reason, so I had a lovely kebab from Friends (where else), some random conversation at Barrington (where else) and a ten minute wait in the rain for a bus to drive me home (where else). And here I am now, shivering, smelling of garlic naan and in slight need of a wee, but with a radiance of happiness that would make the sun pale in comparison.

Of friends, drama, work and theology.

One of the reasons I am feeling so much more at home in this foreign city is because of certain things which happened in the past week. Last weekend, Elisabeth came for a visit. By showing her around 'my' city, I realised again how wonderful the city truly is. The time we spent in the different churches and at the waterside took me back to the trips I myself made to these attractions, and how amazed I was at their beauty. Liverpool is a vibrant, ever-changing city, which combines history and modernity, art and labour, rain and sunshine. There is so much of this city I am yet to explore. I am thinking about making a bucket list of Liverpool, trying to visit every special corner of this very special city. I enjoyed Elisabeth's stay to the fullest, enjoyed speaking Flemish again, discussing language with her in rapid succession of obscurely connected sentences and actually being found funny again (something which has not happened to me in quite a while - my humour seems to be quite different from what the English see as funny). And dressing up as a pirate made the whole thing even better.

Something which was a little less pleasant is the drama in the house. Our new housemate, Dani - who is lovely, by the way - moved in two weeks ago and thus we decided it was necessary we had a housemeeting, to get some cleaning schedules in and discuss certain basic rules. After a meeting of an hour, we had everything written down and everyone was happy. Until the next day, that is. The housemate who had been absent during the meeting decided to disagree with just about everything we had agreed upon, which let to a whole lot of drama, which finally ended on a good note, as we all agreed on keeping to the terms agreed upon the night before. At least, I thought it ended on a good note, until we heard that particular housemate and another one whispering in the kitchen, clearly complaining about things. We had given them plenty of opportunity to speak their mind, instead they chose to do so behind our backs and smile to our faces. Thus, I (and the two other sensible housemates) have more or less decided to keep to my room as much as possible, and not interact unless absolutely necessary. Dani and I are prone to become quite close friends, but the rest will remain housemates, and nothing more. The only complication which now rests is trying to get my DVD's back from the one bitchy housemate without offending him too much, as to avoid him throwing a hissy fit. But that can wait. As I'm getting a new mattress soon (the one I have right now is horrible), tending to my room shouldn't be too bad at all, especially not as I am getting all my DVD's this Monday, as Eva is coming down to Liverpool for three days, something which I am very much looking forward to.

I also finished work, which means I have a little more freedom now, however, I am very much planning on getting a new job as soon as possible, as I really, REALLY need the money. I have to pay the second installment of my tuition fees (£350) on the second of December, and it is safe to see that unless I get a job soon, I will not be able to pay those. So, let's all hope that works out.

But the one thing that I can safely say is what made me feel properly at home in this life, is the discussion I had on Wednesday about free will, predestination and God's plan with this world. For those who know me, you are probably fully aware of the fact that I don't particularly like discussing theology and religion, as it mostly drives me to a very aggressive and frustrated state. But this time, it raised me to a whole new level, one of exaltation and conviction that theology is something worth studying. It's hard to explain why this discussion made me feel this way, I suppose it's one of those things with which you just had to be there. Me and Will, who don't believe in predestination, tried explaining to Rose and Katie why exactly that was. The rational approach ("It is not free will if God knows which option you are going to choose") may seem like the logical choice, but it is hard to convey something so complicated. After all, if God knows all, He surely must know what we are going to choose? And so on. I am not going to give a transcript of the entire discussion, it suffices to say that I left the house with a glow, with knowledge and intelligence and a general buzz in my veins and it was the happiest I had felt in a long while. There is nothing which can match the feeling you get when discussing an intellectual topic with someone who knows how to discuss, and with whom you connect on such a level that when you try to explain something and don't succeed, they reword what you were trying to say in a way that the others do get it, and all just because you are on the same level and know what both of you mean. It's a feeling I have had with very little people and it warms my heart to find a like-minded soul in this city. It was what I needed to feel connected to where I belong.

This is England, I am home. I have found my voice again.

Nightly observations, aided by some tobacco.

It is hard to type while smoking a shisha, but nevertheless I will try. The bubbling of the water might wake my neighbours, but as the sounds of their TV's are blaring through the hallway, I will not worry too much. I promised I would write and write I will. There is something about smoke circling above your head that makes the words flow more easily. Is it sad, that I smoke alone? Or does it add a hint of poetry to what I do? Either way, I enjoy it. I have noticed lately that I enjoy life, in general. The spell Liverpool put on me, so many months ago, is slowly enchanting me again. The fact that I finally have a bank and am registered for university probably helps towards that cause, but I think the most convincing role is played by the people around me. Though my life here started with a few struggles, I am slowly settling into a decor of friends, a landscape of acquaintances and bosom friends. There are events to look forward to, days out to enjoy, classes to attend. My life is unfolding and I can finally iron out the creases which complicated matters so intensely at the start of my stay. And though certain difficulties remain, I can see myself growing more and more into the person I want to be and was, the confident young woman who managed to baffle all those around her by graduating on her Master's Degree with distinction. If I can do the impossible, than why on earth would I have to worry about things like money and a love life? All will come my way, as long as I have faith and am prepared to battle for that which I think is worth it. And like the smoke in my room, my dream will slowly encompass everything around me and before I know it, I will never want to leave again.

For why should I worry, why do I freak out? I am in England. This is my dream. I am in England. This is my dream. I am in England. This is, and was, and always will be, my dream. I heart Liverpool, so much, so deep, so endlessly.

Promises

Yes, a short one again, as it's quite late and I have to get up in less than seven hours. This is just a proclamation of the fact that I will write posts on the following things:

- My work being done
- The start of university
- Elisabeth's stay
- Drama in the house
- Finally getting my bank stuff and ordering off Amazon
- The air show I'm going to this weekend
- Eva's stay next week
- My new shisha
- My wonderful night tonight, discussing theology
- Anything else that might happen or come to mind in the meantime


See you soon!

Sadness comes and sadness goes.

I feel better. So does my finger. And life.

Four things

Four things that are always in my purse

1.Wallet(s)
2.Keys
3.Cell phone
4.A pen

Four things on my desk

1.A 'Vos en Haas'-pen-holder with pens I barely use
2.Pictures of my family
3.An elastic hairband
4.Notebook

Four favourite things in my bedroom

1.My double bed (though I REALLY need a mattress topper)
2.My bookcase
3.My filled-to-the-brim wardrobe
4.My jewelery box

Four things I always wanted to do

1.Graduate in cap and gown
2.Travel to another continent
3.Get married
4.Be pregnant

Four things I like at the moment

1.My shiny new debit card (sadly still waiting for my pin)
2.My bookcase
3.Wotsils
4.The bunches of friends from Belgium who are coming over in the next weeks

Four things no one knows about me

1.When I was in primary school, I passed a geography test because I used an atlas all through the exam, even though we were only allowed to use it for a little bit. I was not aware of that rule and only found out later, but have still felt guitly about it ever since.
2.While walking down the street, I always try to walk on the lines of the tiles and not in them, but I never succeed and still haven't found the perfect rhythm to it (line-tile-line-tile or line-line-tile-line-line-tile or anything). This is one of my biggest daily frustrations.
3.I used to email with a guy from the USA with whom I had a real connection, despite a slight age difference, before he retreated as a monk in a monastery.
4.I have a biscuit tin which holds memories of important periods in my life, including a security code to a toilet in Poland, an eraser and a little pink feather.

Four bloggers I want to tag

1. Ciska
2. Pauline
3. Mama
4. Kyle

Elisabeth

Finger got infected. Not fun. I'm still in a bit of pain, though it comes and goes. Mainly discomfort and a slight fear this injury might have permanent damage.

In other news, I finally got my bank sorted and got my debit card in the mail today. This means I can start booking my trip to Belgium in October, something which I am really looking forward to. Before I came to Liverpool, I was so certain that this is where I belonged, so convinced that I would not feel even an ounce of homesickness, that I would be happy and vibrant and everything I was in Belgium and so much more. But I am not. I look for myself, but cannot find seem to find me. I miss the real Hanne, the Hanne who is careless and happy and bubbly and confident. I miss the Hanne my friends see and love. I cannot seem to adjust, truly adjust, and be myself in a whole new environment. And though my homesickness has not showed its roaring head for almost two weeks now, I can feel a new bout coming up. Every day it creeps a little closer, making me long for my friends, my home, the places I feel comfortable and confident at. My very dear friend Elisabeth is coming over this weekend and I am more or less afraid that by the end of her stay, I will want to come with her, hide in her suitcase, leave this country and go back to where my heart (still) is. This might be where I belong, but I still feel lost, in this world, this city and the company of those who barely know me. I miss long conversations in the Reynaert, making funny noises and weird dancemoves in the kitchen of Herman Servotte, discussing the hotness of Ortwin De Graef in the MSI, smoking shisha on my balcony, dancing the night away in the Seven Oaks, reading on the train journey to Brugge, sitting in the Snuffel with a beer and friends. I miss speaking Flemish, being found funny, reading subtitles, opening up the curtains in my room and lighting it with the afternoon sun. I miss foam mattresses, having my own sink, my brother's hand in mine, walking along the canals in Brugge, European vacuum cleaners, people to talk literature and history with, feeling a part of a group. And I miss my cat. I miss my cat so much, so much, so endlessly much.

Though I thought I was cured from homesickness, it seems to have kicked in again. And it will probably only get worse, now my friends are coming over. I am so longing for my visit to Belgium in October, I am afraid I will not want to come back.

If I still miss home so much, if I still haven't seem to have found my way, if I still long for the company of my friends and feel so misunderstood by those around me, then how can I be certain this is where I belong? How can I go on claiming this is the country of my dreams? I have lost my faith, and don't know if I really want to stay here. I might pack up and leave, and never look back again.

But you know what I hate the most of all? That so many people told me I would be homesick, so many people told me I didn't know how it was to live in England until I lived there for real, and I just laughed it all away. "This is where I belong". Is it? I don't know anymore. I am lost and alone, and no one to turn to who can show me the way.

(And then the homesickness hit home again.)

Quick one: Books

I have recently bought some more books, which I would like to mention here because my mother and sister will really like them. Ha.

Anyway, I bought The Secret Garden (ooooh yes), finally found the second book of Harry Potter (Chamber of Secrets) (these were both for 50p) and also bought a theological/christian book, the first one in a long time, from our dear friend C.S.Lewis, entitled, The Screwface Letters.

I am currently finishing Jude the Obscure, from who else but Thomas Hardy (love that man), and now I am in dubio as to which book I should read next. Should I dig in to religion (with a splash of irony and C.S.Lewis's genius) or relax by taking a trip to Hogwarts (now the memory of the first book is still fresh). Or should I just go for the classic and take in the scent of the Secret Garden (renewing all those faint memories of the film I saw so many years ago).

What do you think?

A clean start

My room smells like lemon and fresh air, and for the first time in weeks, the floor is absolutely spotless. My laundry is drying outside (be it at a very slow pace) and my bookshelves are filled with backs in every colour. It was the only piece missing (apart from a dvd-cupboard which I am yet to purchase) to make this a room which fits me perfectly. There is plenty of room for an extra matress, space which is screaming for visitors to enrich my life (and theirs). From this Friday on, friends will be coming to visit me, one by one bringing me a piece of happiness, with some strangers thrown in the mix, bringing that piece of excitement every new character brings to a day-time soap.

My life, my home, my happiness. And love? Love can wait. I can wait.

Quick update

I got bitten by a dog at work today. Nothing too bad, three deep bitemarks on the middle finger of my left hand. Nicely bandaged up, though. Typing is hard.

Also finally got a bank account! This means I should be able to cash a check, so I can get registered and pay my rent. This is good news.

It has also been really nice weather lately, which has made work really pleasant (the dogbite being the exception).

I must say, I have generally been really happy for the past couple of days. The homesickness seems to be finally faltering. Ready for my new life :)