My first thought when I saw this on the assignment paper was: why the war museum? 

Why not the V&A or the London museum?  Why not the national gallery?  I suppose it has to do with appreciating history, and there certainly is a lot of that in the IWM. 

Wars make history more interesting.  I know that from experience, though it is sad to say.  There is something intensely melodramatic about war and the way people decorate the period in time with stories of patriotism, pride, sacrific, and grief.  As a writer, a student of literature, and a future teacher, these are the issues that always guarantee a response.  My favorite poem of all time is by e.e. cummings "i sing of olaf glad and big".  Yusef Komunyankaa is not far behind him and then there are more.  We dress up death with universal ideas of stiff upper lips and fighting for the many, and museums take some of that romanticism away, because museums are by and large based on facts.  You can see evidence of the pride of the armed forces in every corner, particularly in the exhibit to some British general whose name I cannot recall, but when facts and figures are laid out in front of you, it is hard to keep the flair of romance alive.  Or, at least, it is for me.  But then, I also cannot speak to some of my best friends for the better part of a year because they are overseas, fighting in a war which leaves no time for idle internet chatter besides the occassional run on sentence or a "tell sarey hello" from a long line of indirect sources. 

But to see evidence of the heavy winter uniforms men had to wear during WWII in east europe, and of the letters and written by anxious wives and families, and the staggering statistics of how much food and supply was sunk or burned for no other reason than to cause more suffering to humanity, i have a very hard time romantizing starvation.  Frost-bite. Grief.  I have a very hard time indeed in the children's war section and eventually I move on, inexorably to the Holocaust exhibition.  I've visited the travelling exhibit in DC, read dozens of books, and listened to Elie Weisel speak over radio about the Holocaust.  For me it is one big blurred grey image of horror.  A horror that is morbidly fascinating and must be on display so that the true root of war can be seen.  Do the generals of today watch these films ever I wonder?  Do they stand in front of a wall of shoes of victims and see a reason to cause more violence, or a reason to find an alternative way to put an end to it?  In my opinion, and I have said as much to my dear friends who are fighting for their own version of "freedom" and "security"  a foolish man attacks with his fist.  A smart man attacks with his words.  A woman attacks not at all, but sits around talking about the inconsequential action of war.  No one is right, but the woman has never caused anyone any harm. 

On one of the posters for the era of communism and the cold war proclaimed that somewhere in the world, there has always been war since 1945.  Is that what people have died for?  A constant state of war?  I think the men of 1945 because they though there was no better way.  I think that men previous to that though the same as well.  I think the people of today also think along similar paths.  And so on and so forth until we've all blown each other to bits, thinking that someday there would be a better way. 

I began this little rant with history.  History is the study of the past and we study that past so that we do not make the same mistakes in the future.  Isn't it about time that we stop repeating our mistakes so that history can stop repeating itself?  But then again, I am just a woman, sitting around talking about the inconsequentialiy of war.

There is something unique about being the only liberal or labour advocate in a room filled with Tories.  I knew the Conservative party were called Tories, but being an American the only way I was used to hearing this term was in reference to the Revolutionary War.  Tory was a word usually synonomous to "lobsterbacks".   Not exactly flattering.  Of course, some of the jokes they make about the Labour party aren't exactly flattering either, but then this is politics and if you can't take an ironically politically incorrect joke, then you're probably French  (sorry, couldn't resist). 

But back to being a lib or a labour...I needed to refresh my memory of which one i actually was.  So I consulted the worlds most reliable source, Wikipedia.  Labour to the left, where I generally tend to be.  Lib Dems off centre to the left, and the righties, the Tory party.  There is generally a lot of talk about socialism when you reference the former 2 parties, which is a word we avoid like the plague in the states.  To our generally vague public, socialism and communism are one and the same and seem to be forever connected to Jospeh McCarthy and the days of the red scare.  Despite this, I will admit that I am not fond of balding old ivy-league (whatever the British equivalent is) heirs to even older money holding all of the power in their upper 10% of the tax bracket.  So yay socialism and power to the people and whatever.  I believe I have a shirt that sums up my preferences of government quite nicely. It is neon pink and reads in bold black letters, "Keep your rosaries off my ovaries".  I will always prefer choice over silence. 

Some of these views are obviously out of tune with my colleagues.  I haven't broached the abortion issue (yet), but we did engage in a spirited debate on the topic of homosexuality and to some point religion at a recent lunch.  It was not at all like a debate in the House of Commons, mostly because everyone is aware that gay men and women are everywhere--working down the hall, living with their significant other, adopting orphans from Peru.  No one wants to look like a bigot or a homophobe in a culture that is very accepting of living life the way you want, but yet there is a hesitance and a sidestepping of words  ( I don't disapprove, butI won't 'encourage' government legistlation for marriage, etc.)  We all agree that anti-discrimination laws are the right thing, but it is hard to put into words that they aren't saying it's okay or not okay to be gay; simply that no one has the right to beat you up for either choice. 

Which lead us to Religion and my point that while we're oh so careful about being PC with the GLBT, but a good catholic girl (such as myself) can't marry into the royal family for a reason that is so old, most people have forgotten what it is in the first place.  Wow.  Did a lot of people squirm when I mentioned the whole catholic thing.  Apparently religion is not a thing you discuss at parliament; or at least not if you're catholic.  Now, in America we generally don't make a habit of discussing these things, but we also don't freak out when someone brings it up, unless it's offensive.  And even then we generally let those comments slide. 

Most of the guys I was baiting couldn't even name 5 people they knew for sure were catholics.  Most really couldn't commit that they had a religion at all, or at least one they still kept up with.  I eased the tension (they were grateful) with a well-timed comment about catholic girl uniforms and the image britney spears made famous, and they gladly took off with that, without ever actually addressing why Catholics seem to need a 'dont ask, don't tell' policy around here.  I'll have to look into it further.  

These discussions are intersting because I am talking with people who are paid to gift-wrap their opinion in as many party-acceptable ways as possible, all the while maintaining somewhat of their own actual beliefs.  I feel like a spy sometime, seeing what people are actually thinking, as opposed to what their party is projecting.  They make good points, but so do I.  We end on an amicable note (tea after lunch) and go back to our jobs, cushioning complex political debate into user and party friendly words against the fierce and obviously evil opposition.  Such is the life of the politician.    

Tuesday, July 10

I get to go to committee now, well for purposes other than entertainment.  This time I go along and my job is to summarize everything that happens in 2-3 hours, into a tidy 2 page outline summary thing.  This requires a bit of research because I need to know what they are talking about, particularly in the Legal Services Bill (legal jargon is NOT my cuppa tea)  and i need to know who everyone is so when I write 'oliver heald said...' it is actually oliver doing so.  But just in case, I can get the minutes from the library or the vote office the next day and make sure i am correct. 

One very cool thing about going with Jonathan and Victoria to committee is that it's in the wing of the palace of Westminster that faces the river--the part we don't get to see on the tour.  Down narrow circular staircases and into long skinny rooms full of portraits and high windows...it's very easy to get lost.  The security guards know me as the lost girl, and even jonathans colleagues find me wondering about and escort me to the correct place.  Mark Francois MP told me it took him 2 months before he could remember where he was, so i didn't feel so bad. 

Still doing a ton of filing in preparation of the new woman, whoever she it.  Judy and Jonathan are rather certain it will be a woman, despite the fact that several highly qualified men have applied. They all seemed rather sexist in that women are the PA's and not men.  Whatever, I'm not going to get all upset about it. 

One thing I do not appreciate is the assumption that I should just understand what's happening.  Judy told me to get "some 4A's from the Banner".  She was busy with something else and she may have well been speaking martian, and so i asked again and she was very annoyed and basically through the supply ordering booklet at me, telling me she needed binders.  A4 binders apparently.  Then i made out the order form wrong and was sent from the room, being told to "make myself useful elsewhere".  Like I was a bad kid.  I'm sorry I don't speak PA.  Adele told me later that Judy snapping at me was uncalled for, especially since she didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about either.  I just feel like I get blamed for anything that goes wrong, even though sometimes I have nothing to do with the lost EDM signing or post going wonky.  It's just easiest to blame the intern and I am very precise with my work, asking a lot of questions and double checking my work at least twice.  Sure I make mistakes, but so does Judy.    

i. I am suprised by the small staff (only two assistants) and by the confrontational style of parliamentary debates.  It is very cramped and intense and thrilling to watch.

j. The worst thing that I have seen is a lack of respect for the PA's by the MP's.  Without their assistants, most of the members would be in a sorry state as to schedules, meetings, names, tours, etc.  The best thing is a love for politics and culture and tradition. 

k. I would change the role of the PA from baby-sitter/ego stroker to valued advisor.

l. Right now some of the key issues in my office are:  the legal services bill, animal testing, and the conditions of the roads in Huntingdon.

The ferry was awesome.  I love travelling by water, and it provides such a unique of seeing London.  The buildings are feats of architecture, surrounded by what remains of the port district and many abandoned warehouses.  It was also my first glimpse of london and tower bridges.  London Bridge is a bit of a disappointment, but tower bridge seems interesting. 

Greenwich was a beautiful place and seemed removed from what I had seen of London so far.  It also seemed that Greenwich was split into 2 parts--the tourist half and the residential half.  I went up the great hill for the observatory and got a breathtaking view of how big everything really is, despite the cloudy weather.  This is the first time in my life that I am not just visiting a big city, or stopping in to play a quick tournament for softball or something; I am living in this city and I get these moments where I want to know EVERYTHING--every last bit of history and interesting factoid--because I want to appreciate the beauty of tradition.  I want to appreciate the significance of the architecural eras--georgian, victorian, medival.  I want to feel like I made the most out of my time and that I turned this big foreign place into my home.  I already refer to Vandon as 'home' without thought, but when I am considering careers or places I might want to go sometime, I want to remember London and the history and the wide open spaces of green park in Greenwich where older Sarah might to return to and bring her boyfriend and her puppy.  I want it to feel comfortable because in a very big and scary way, i can see myself moving here for grad school or maybe even a job.  Now that would be an accomplisment.  We Iowans don't tend to move too far from the nest and to be quite honest, my family constantly battles my own goals for the number one spot on my priority list and to be thinking of being SO far away--eight hours by plane, 6 hour time difference, X number of dollars and cents away--is terrifying in an exciting, I could really do this.  I could live in a big city and LIKE it.  Love it even. 

As I was standing at the top of the observatory, imagining a life here for myself in a few years, i felt relief.  I don't know what's in store for me--tomorrow or in the next decade.  But it's rather nice to ponder a life so entirely different from my quiet little life in Iowa, and to have it make sense.  To feel good about what's to come, whether it be here or somewhere else entirely.     

It's official.  I, Sarah Ann Hayes, citizen of Holy Cross Iowa, population approximately 400, am 4,000 miles away (is that roughly 8,000 km?)  from my Iowan roots in London.  As in London, England.  As in, not a cornfield in sight.  Not even a pair of overalls or abnormally large belt buckle.  Imagine that. 

It's nice to say that your dream has come true.  Because this is mine.  One of mine.  A major milestone to be crossed off the list and remembered fondly when I'm onto the next obscenely large dream.  But that's ages on; right now I am simply coasting with awe.  Of course, this is today; Saturday and Sunday were not quite as bright or cheery.

The plane ride was beyond horrendous.  We were surrounded by no less than 8 children; many of which felt the need to shriek when the lights when down and refuse to sleep.  I didn't get ANY sleep.  Instead I watched The Painted Veil (don't bother) and Catch and Release (okay) and played Who Wants to be a Millionaire and tetris on the video screen.  It was too noisy to read really. 

We arrived at Heathrow at 8:15.  We left around 10:30 on the shuttle for Vandon.  I was so hot I got a migraine and my entire body was telling me to sleep.  I felt bad, but I had to sleep for an hour instead of doing an impromtpu walking tour with my new abroad mates.  I was worried that I was immediately going to be labeled that girl who stayed home, which is really, really far from the truth, but it all worked out alright.  I got enough sleep to cure the headache (not the tummyache from the plane food) and we went out walking that night and to our first pub down the block, The Albert.  My worries were erased and we all are a very bright, excited, social group.  I slept really well that night  :)

Breakfast/lunch is a major change in my normal routine.  I usually have something very small for breakfast like a banana, and then a bit more late in the morning for lunch and a big supper.  Here, lunch is very small and I haven't had much of an apetite early, but I'm starving before our meetings are out.  Might have to bring some snacks along for work if we don't get lunch until 1 or later. 

The walking tour was amazing.  I adore history and it's not to know what you're taking a picture of.  Everything is just so clever and full of stories and history, i really need to brush up on my european wars/disasters/monarchies.  I was really worried that London would have the same feel New York has, and even several parts of Chicago--this you can't walk leisurely (definitely not by yourself) and look about without being jostled or hurried along.  The sidewalks are wider and there's lots of green spaces to avail yourself to.  That's my favorite part so far--the church foundations hiding garden nooks and the cleanness I can sense in what I've seen of the city.

I called my mom around 9:15 their time on my cell phone (because i have to use it or be charged) that first day.  Immediately upon hearing her voice I got all choked up and teary-eyed.  Of course.  Sometimes I think I want to work/live in a big city, but the physical clench of my gut whenever I am not within driving range of my very small, very tight-knit family is painful.  My mom, knowing all this, never panics.  She makes me laugh, tells me everytime she looks at a clock she's thinking 'what time is it in london' and 'what's sarah doing'.  I'm still a bit sick and sniffly when we hang up and she makes me promise to call her back later.  I do so promptly at 11:30 London time and i can tell that mom feels better knowing I've settled in at least temporarily.  Obviously there will be other rough patches along this 9-week adventure.

There are so many places in the city I want to go and have walked past/seen from a distance already.  I want to spend days within the museums and hours in the park and trafalgar sqaure, but i also want to go all sorts of places outside of London.  So little time, so much information and knowledge to get.

I'm getting antsy about my internship.  It sounds like a lot of hours.  That's good, and then that's not good.  I just hope I'm competent enough to keep up. 

Shakespeare tomorrow, outdoor theatre nonetheless.  A Midsummer Night's Dream.  Amazing and bound to be different than the version Clarke put on.  So far we've got a few shakespeare days planned out, inevitably leading us to Stratford and my picture with the bust of the bard.  My professors would be so proud.