I Heart Box o' Wine Reception.doc

Monday evening was our official welcome to the Department of Theatre and Performance Studies. I had figured this would be a fairly mundane sort of affair, but I had no idea of the ridiculous series of events that would follow.

Firstly, as an annual tradition, the department invites a touring theatre company to present a play as part of the kickoff for the year.  The group invited this year was called Theatre for Africa who presented an extremely heartfelt show about rhino poaching.  The thing that struck me most about the company was their approach to performance that radiated throughout.  It's hard to describe, but the joy of 'play' could be felt watching their movements.  I think too often in the arts there is the risk of taking oneself too seriously which can result in the loss of this essential quality (That's why the experience at the St. Lawrence Shakespeare Festival was such a pleasant one - we always had fun)  The company was very comfortable performing without a 4th wall and seemed to thrive on interactions with its audience.

Every year the department arranges for a reception after the initial performance.  Now after a first glance of the offerings, the term 'reception' was a loose definition.  I now can say I've been a part of three types of departmental receptions: Queen's had gala nights organized by the DSC which featured a fine selection of finger foods (a dry event), UofT had catered opening night parties with delicious shrimp rings and many cheeses (cash bar on hand), and now I've experienced a Warwick reception which comprised three bowls of crisps (free box wine).  Now it's hard to determine whether not or the free wine at Warwick, and its lack of food to accompany, outperforms the great spread and cash bar of Toronto.  I think to be fair, UofT wins the reception race.  This is not to say we didn't have a great time at Warwick on Monday night.

The reception was a welcome for all new students to the department so the room was comprised of sixty or so first years (who could be spotted holding their first year folders - some with lanyards) and the twelve of us Internationals in the brand new MA program.  Quite an interesting grouping. What helped the situation was that none of the first years were drinking the boxed wine, either because they were underage or didn't want to test their luck in an academic environment, which meant this proved to be the perfect time for the first MAIPR social bonding.

After sipping on some cheap vino and meeting some of the professors, the students in our program found ourselves the last ones in the studio with four boxes of wine partially drank. Our new British friends, three students in the program that completed their undergrad at Warwick, suggested that we skedaddle with the boxes of wine and take them to (where else?) the Humanities building on campus.  Apparently the lounges are a common predrinking area. We were more than happy to follow their lead. Picture if you will a Brit hauling the Rosé, an Australia carrying the white, and myself taking care of the red - a real commonwealth effort!

Needless to say, sipping boxed wine in the lounge of the Humanities building was not what I had planned for my Monday night, but it was the perfect initial bonding experience.  We later ventured to one of the campus bars which was playing some early 90s/top pop kind of music. Or as the kids at Warwick like to call it, cheese.  Tuesday being our only day off each week was spent recovering and catching up.

I am already feeling a bit of a crunch to get all the work done.  It may be that the extra scheduled events this week has lead to an excess of things to get accomplished but I think this first term at Warwick will be pretty densely packed.  To give you an idea of what my schedule looks like, so you can plan your skype chats and also cut me a little slack if I don't have the energy or time to blog  every day, here it is:

Monday: Class 9:30am - 1:00pm

Tuesday: OFF

Wednesday: Film Screening 4:00pm - 6:00pm

Thursday: 9:30am - 1:00pm

Friday: 9:00am - 1:00pm and then 2:00pm to 6:00pm

Now, lord knows why loading a full day into the program on Friday was deemed a good idea but Ima guess Ima have to roll with it.  This means I hope to find time for blogging on Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday.  Let us see how this schedule works out.

Aside from the jampacked nature of this first semester, I don't have much to complain about. We have a reading week in just over four weeks and officially end this term on December 5 (just over two months)  From then, I have a short 10 page essay to write over the break, but don't start up classes again until February 1 in Amsterdam.  This means just about two months off: December spent in Warwick and travelling with Emily and January spent settling into Amsterdam.  I think this first term is going to fly.

I have an assignment due on Friday afternoon so I'm going to start that now.  No boxed wine tonight :(

Doc's Prescription of the Day: If you're ever writing a speech - whether it is to be addressed to a nation, fellow coworkers, or little children - it's best not to pull direct sections from other sources and pass them off as your own. It's an embarrassment to yourself and those you represent. I'm sure Mr. Harper had no trouble giving his pisspoor speech writer adequate funding. Why must governmental appreciation for the arts continue to suffer in Canada?

To This, My 20th 'First Day of School'.doc

Yesterday was the first day of school. I actually have vague recollections of my initial first day of school: the excitement surrounding the various purchased items that signaled the undertaking of a year of study (Laurentian pencil crayons being the image at the forefront of my mind), shoes kicking stones awaiting the arrival of the bus, and of course the separation between parent and child that signals the end of the time when they'll spend every waking moment at home. Twenty years ago I began preschool; I now begin yet another year of study (when you do this many it moves beyond the classification of 'grade' or 'year')

I realize I may be mistaken about my ability to recall that initial day of leaving for Miss Baker's preschool class. Instead, this feeling of nostalgia is probably an image cobbled together from photos of 'first day' departures and memories of a variety of years that blend together. But it's natural, we do this as human beings. In contrast to the undeterminable number of things that have changed from that first day - the fasion (late 80s neons to skinny jeans and raybans...maybe not so much of a change?), the difficulty of the material (Dr. Seuss to Jacques Derrida), and the social elements (recess to kegger) - there is one constant. Every 'first day of school' carries with it a host of new first impressions with professors, students in your classes, the surrounding student community, new material, and new spaces. This explains two things: why the topic of most importance the night before is usually the choice of an outfit for this new beginning - 'I want to be noticed, but I don't want people to think this is the best I've got' - and also that the nervous mix of emotions relates to an anxiety of how we will perform in this initial phase of introduction.

It was with this familiar, but never really familiar, feeling of new beginnings with which I set out from my residence yesterday morning. Heronbank has an interesting placement on campus. It's a short eight minute walk from the centre of the university and is surrounded on one side by a plowed field and the other by a tiny body of water home to many 'wing-ed' creatures. The residence opposite is called Lakeside, and thus would indicate that the body of water is indeed classified as a lake. Having come from a country with the 'great lakes', five to be exact, I consider it more of a pond (and think Lakeside should be named Pondside) 'Pond the river - 'pond the bank. 

The inital class was everything I figured it would be - a seminar format much like those at UofT featuring advanced discussion and a variety of intriguing observations gleaned from making connections between readings, previous concepts, and personal perspectives. It may not prove true for every class, but one difference I'm beginning to see between North American lecturers and British ones is that the former tend to lecture more 'off the cuff' or informally, while the latter prepare very dense notes and stick quite strongly to them. It'll be interesting to see if this trend continues, and how it results in a different method of taking notes.  (How's that for a nerd blog??)

This past Sunday I made an initial grocery run to a place called 'Tesco' which is just on the outskirts of campus; Tesco got it all.  It has a reputation on campus as being the cheap student grocery store and it didn't disappoint.  The scene was as close to madness as you can get.  Thousands of students had just been moved into residence by their parents who were stocking them up: "Honey, do you want some coffee?  Will you be able to make that in your room?" A shrug of indifference, "I dunno".  

I've had countless people tell me about the expensive living costs in Britain but I've actually been pleasantly surprised low less things are over here.  Now, yes, of course, if you consider the CAN - GBP exchange every item costs approximately double in our currency.  But I've done away with thinking in Canadian dollars for the time being - probably to keep sane.  Just about every product in the grocery store costs less in GBP than what we charge in Canadian.  Thus, I get a whole lot more for 30 pounds than I would for 30 Canadian dollars.  Also, with my Warwick student card, the movie theatre on campus is only 2.50 pounds.  I'm no economist, but maybe the average Canadian salary is higher than those in Britain and is then reflected in the cost of items.  I'm not complaining.

I'm sipping Earl Grey tea, eating crumpets, watching a football match, wearing a bowler cap, and pronouncing my 'th's as 'f's.  Oh, a bobby just drove by in a mini!  

Most of the stereotypes have proved elusive, but that's for another blog.  What has proven true were the warnings about the melancholic weather.  It's a typical British afternoon: overcast, chilly, brooding, and threatening rain. But it's great blog weather...if there can be such a thing.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: To go along with the weather I'm prescribing a dose of Kings of Leon.  They're a fantastic band who have just released a new album called Only by the Night. They were also on SNL two weeks ago. Tina Fey-lin wasn't the only draw. If you're looking for a few of their older hits I recommend Taper Jean Girl, California Waiting, and The Bucket.

Warwick - Where the 2nd 'W' is Silent.doc

Induction Week.
First, a lesson in vocabulary:
induction - n. a formal entry into an organization or position or office.
frosh week - the week before classes at North American universities when fresh(people) participate in orientation.
freshers week - the week before classes at British universities when fresh(people) participate in orientation.

You may have thought that my induction week would include a variety of awkward events that included peat moss and shaving cream (or as one friend asked, 'do they still tar and feather?') but induction week was a formal series of lectures, group work, and seminars organized by the Department of Theatre and Performance Studies. As I included in the post on Wednesday, these took place between the three sites that make up the program. In addition to learning a whole lot about spectatorship, censorship, and performance space, the afternoon sessions were devoted to group work. Now, those of you who studied business (which is a minority reading this blog!) would be use to group work, but those of us in humanities are quite content to sit in front of our laptops and plunk out our thoughts.

The group's task was to take the keywords we had brought to the conference and challenge, reinterpret, and link the words in associational networks on the program blog (Yes, I'm doing double blog duty!) After getting over the initial struggle of three people sitting down and trying to craft sentences and paragraphs together (is there anything more difficult?) we were able to to agree upon some really interesting challenges about works like multicultural, ethnicity, and cosmopolitanism. The term I brought to this week, 'E-dentity', proved to be a catalyst for a lot of really interesting discussion about online, digital, and virtual performance as one of the more pressing issues facing Performance Studies. Four of the nine groups used the term in their associational network. It may prove to be the initial inspiration for the thesis I'll have to write later down the line. It's ironic that I haphazardly decided upon the keyword, while in the midst of moving my life, and it may demand a major focus in the coming months. The induction week ended this Friday afternoon, after each student gave a presentation over video conferencing, and was celebrated with champagne and a lunch spread. It was actually quite an exciting launch to the new program: students and faculty in the UK, Finland, and Holland toasted champagne 'telematically', over video conferencing, and thus we are underway.

Aside from school, which has taken up the bulk of my energy, I've been running all the necessary errands with International studies - setting up a bank account, considering whether or not to get a cellular tellular for t-bomb access, and getting my THIRD university student card. I've meet a really diverse group of really cool people from a variety of countries - Russia, Turkey, Georgia, Australia, Singapore and many others - as part of the International Orientation. It certainly is a different feeling to be experiencing the first year of a program from the double perspective of an International but also as a Postgrad. Not only do the 'fresher' students who've arrived this weekend look terribly young to be thrust on their own in this adult environment, but the look of stomach-churning fear is painted all over their face. As much as I feel more reserved and a little more isolated as an upper year student, I am happy to be settling into living on campus with the wisdom and experience gained with four years in Kingston.

Last night, I hung out with the Canadian girl I met named Andrea. We ventured into the campus hub to check out the final night of the International Orientation which was aptly named 'The Heat'. The bar was extremely similar to Alfies, in that it's in the lower level of the Student Union, however, did not feature the plush couches and very sociable TAPS staff. Andrea and I decided to break free of our North American tendencies and join with the Internationals in embracing a lot of horrid house music which seems to be big over here. We both agreed that it was a bit ironic to be socializing with a fellow Canadian during Internationals week, but the comfortability allowed us meet a lot of people. I already had to save her from the very forward advances of a Warwick Freen. Pints of beer are quite cheap over here which will make for a very sociable year I am sure (Meet you at the QP at midnight?!) I paid 1.90 for a Carlsberg pint which is just less than four Canadian dollars - but the icing on the cake, which I am sure you can guess, is that I don't have to leave any money on the bar. It's an odd feeling to not acknowledge service, after having been tipped for three years as a waiter, but one that I'll gladly embrace over here.

The task for the weekend has been to catch up now that the induction has ended. I already have a stack of readings for class on Monday, which will get some attention tomorrow afternoon, but in the meantime I am content to let everyone know what I'm up to over here. Apologies that the last few days have been a bit boring but socializing was eaten up by school and napping. Please do check out the TWO FOR ONE Saturday post below about our trip to Birmingham. For those who are interested, here is my address over here in the UK:

Keith Bennie
Hb1195
Heronbank
University of Warwick
Coventry
CV4 7AL

Uni Email: K.T.Bennie@warwick.ac.uk

No cell phone yet, but I'll make a decision about that in the coming days.

Doc's Prescription for the Day: Have you SKYPE'd recently? You've heard it mentioned in the blog and for those of you afraid of technology, setup and log on is a breeze. Skype is the prescription for any potential sadness at the loss of my Canadian presence. Once you're set up, search for me. It's easy. Go now...this means you Emma. And Meg, when are you on?!
Love to Canada.

Of All The People In All The World.doc

I thought this experience deserved its own posting rather than just a mention in the larger triweekly posting.

On Thursday we traveled to Birmingham, the UK's second largest city, to see a show our department had arranged as part of our initial induction to 'International Performance Research'. Frankly, I had much preferred to be napping or catching up with correspondence. The morning lectures and afternoon group sessions proved to be an exhaustive process. While they were a valuable way to kick the academic juices back into flow after the leisurely summer months, I still felt like I hadn't totally 'caught up' after leaving Canada and spending five crazy days in France.

When we arrived, the professors told us that the show was more of an 'art installation' that we could walk through at our own pace. There is a certain prejudice against 'installation' pieces, of which I find myself sometimes guilty, that stems from the fear that an installation allows an artist more license to put together 'an experience' that has the ability to shock or provoke. Without the clear separation of performer and spectator, where the artist continually interacts/confronts those viewing, an art installation has always carried that bold weight: here I am, like me or not, I don't care. The other concept of viewing an installation that makes some uncomfortable is that the spectator must work; their willingness to engage with that which they are viewing determines their experience.

As yet another event in an already busy induction week I was a little dismayed that I could not settle into a darkened theatre and watch a performance. To my surprise, the performance proved to be the most interesting and thought provoking 'installation' I've had the pleasure of attending. The show is called "Of All The People In All The World" and is produced by a theatre company called Stan's Cafe which was formed in 1991 in Birmingham.

Upon entering the show each spectator is given a single grain of rice. The program prepares you for how this single grain is representative of a single human being. Thus, you equal one grain of rice. Why is this important? The program explains: "Gathered here are 6.7 billion grains of rice, a grain for each person on the planet. Through the course of our performance this rice will be subdivided to represent a range of population statistics. These statistics are drawn from the most reputable sources available and are as up to date as possible."



As you explore the building housing the installation, once a metalworks factory, you come in contact with piles and pyramids of rice - 112 tonnes of rice to be exact. The rice is split into interesting population statistics (of countries and groups of people), times in history (the population of the world at 1AD for example), and significant historical events (the number of people in attendance to hear Martin Luther King Jr. speak). It would have been impossible for me to have pictured what 6.7 billion grains of rice would have looked like before the exhibit, but what the piles of grains make possible is a physical representation of meaning that a 2D number on a page cannot convey.

I felt a tinge of patriotism to see that Canada had its own pile - a grain of rice for every 33.4 million of us. Some of the accompanying Canadian piles were quite interesting: those who migrated to Canada during the Vietnam war, those who migrated to Canada during the Vietnam war and stayed, the number of RCMP officers, and the group of brave souls who have gone over Niagara Falls in a barrel and survived.

The most interesting aspect of the installation was the range of feelings that staring at piles of rice with an accompanying statistic would provoke. While some of the selections were quite funny - Eva Peron, Brangelina, and the Palin family had their own groupings in relation to an overarching group of piles - some of the depections were quite thought-provoking. Seeing the number of people killed in the Holocaust and the number of Africans who die everyday from HIV/AIDS represented in a pile of rice cannot help but encourage reflection. Not only did rice, a material which is a staple food for the majority of the world's population, provide a better representation of the statistics than a number ever could, but the single grain received upon entry puts the spectator in direct relation to the 6.7 billion other grains they encounter.

It's no wonder the show has toured the world. It demands of the participants to consider the significance of the single grain they hold. Not only is one encouraged to find humbleness in the installation, but it challenges spectators to find themselves among the grains.

An extra prescription for the day: Check it out, http://stanscafe.co.uk/ .

No I Will Not Wear A Lanyard Around My Neck, Thank You.doc

Dear Emily was such a trooper to rise with me at the unfathomable time of 6:30am (think 12:30am in Canada) to catch my morning train en route to the University of Warwick. Upon entering the train at Rennes, a young French woman was sprawled across both seats. Presented with the option of either waking her up or finding another seat I mustered all my courage and pronounced my best "Excusé-moi" to which she jolted upright surprised to be awoken (with such a confident command I am sure). She stuck around for a bit but then found another seat - I think she was looking to sprawl out again sans Canadian boy listening to his ipod.

I waved to Emily from the train and began my journey. Her and Cynthia really rolled out the red carpet for me and we did a variety of special French things: staying out late at night bars and boxes alike, chilling in the afternoon on patios when everyone 'should' be working, visiting the local markets, eating baguettes and cheese, and of course savouring a variety of wines. It was hard to say goodbye to my former Torontonian roomate, but I know that we'll see each other soon (Christmas in the sun?) and that Cynthia and her will put their stamp on France. The small goodbye really was the end of my initial gallivanting in Europe, spent soaking up 5 wonderful days of French culture, before pressing on to a completely intimidating Masters program where the other students and professors really do embody the idea of academic excellence.

To say the trip from Rennes to Warwick was long and exhausting is an understatement. I don't merely want to recount the details of the trip to whine about the travel but rather to give you an idea of the accessibility of the European transport system. As foreign a place as it is, it seems that the transport structures are designed around being able to get from A to B comfortably and on time. It may fly in the face of the 'chillness' of the French culture but the professionalism of the European transport system is something I've been impressed with thus far. For posterity's sake, picture this: 2hrs 30mins train from Rennes to Paris, 40 minute Metro ride in Paris to change stations, 1 hour wait in Paris, 2hrs 45 mins train from Paris to London (delayed by the Chunnel), 1 hour Metro ride in London, and finally a 2hour Shuttle from Heathrow to Warwick.

Needless to say I slept on the shuttle to my new home surrounded by a bus full of International students. I chatted with 4 very excited Spanish Erasmus students on the shuttle (Erasmus GAP students are extremely different from those in my program and are on a year of exchange from their home EU university) who said they prayed before they left that "Warwick brought the party, large styles". I assured them that they shouldn't worry. It's been odd to join the excitement of a variety of International students making their way to a school in the UK where, for many of them, Warwick is their first time away from friends, family, and the comforts of their home lives. It cannot help but remind me of my humble beginnings at Queen's U five years ago now (yikes), where the first Queen's student I laid eyes on during move in was a sweater-set wearing, tupperware box toting Megan Deeks, but it's also a reminder of how far I've come. Back then the Orientation events were pretty much a no-brainer - a chance to have a few drinks away from home and also meet a group of new students in a similar position. But now the program induction during the mornings has been so exhausting that the evening events seem like more of a chance for the new undergrads and the EU GAP students to party like one should in their Frosh Week. Been there, done that.

Case in point - as with any frosh week we received the lanyards attached to keys and ID cards that serve two purposes. One, and most practically, is that the lanyard provides a handy-dandy way to keep young students organized; you are less likely to lose valuable items if they're attached to a shoelace around your neck. Two, and most importantly, the lanyard identifies said student as new, possibly lost, impressionable, and someone who should be pitied; you are less likely to look cool if you wear a shoelace around your neck. Feeling like a sheep being tagged in a flock, I happily received my lanyard and placed it in my pocket (I was ready for any opposition that may have come my way) It just so happens that at dinner that evening I was informed by an Orientation leader that it would be a good idea to wear said lanyard around my neck. I replied that this was technically my third university orientation and I would not be wearing the lanyard; instead of opposition she seemed to understand. What was shared was a moment of recognition that only a fellow upper-year would understand: lanyards are for first-years and traffic cops with whistles.

The dinner that night was also kind of funny (with maturity comes the knowledge that a story like this is funny rather than a failure at making friends which an actual frosh might have stressed over) So instead of sitting alone at dinner I decided to sit with another guy who was sitting alone at a five seater table - I figure why not try to make someone's night and start conversing with a friendly face in a foreign land. His name was Vlad from Russia and we pleasantly chatted about the weather (obvi), skiing, and what courses we were taking. I felt great for befriending someone who was eating alone. As the meal progressed his fellow Russian comrades, as if staggered in three minute intervals, joined the table one by one and the discussion continued. The table filled up - four Russians and a lone Canadian trying to keep up - and the other member of their group approached the table, probably wondering who this red baseball capped boy was at the centre of their social circle with no seat available. I offered to give the seat up, obviously they were all friends, but we made room in the end. They lamented that the meal did not include access to vodka. Needless to say, dinner was a hilarious introduction to International Orientation week.

Over the course of the 30 or so hours I have been on campus I've made friends with the students in my program, all coming from a variety of continents, and I met one Canadian when registering for a bank on campus. She's from Aurora which she tells me is close to Toronto (but not the good old GTA!) and is studying International Relations. It was nice to meet someone I could share my thoughts with who understood my Canadian perspective, but it has also been encouraging to meet a diverse group of students each with cultures different from my Western centered perspective. The Brit students have been more than welcoming, my Aussie friend is a fun hipster who is attempting to overcome massive jet leg, the students from Singapore speak of an educational system completely different from our own, and a few of the older students are on their way to becoming extremely accomplished scholars. To give you an idea, I arrived today for the Induction program and they have a 'telematic' setup between the 36 students studying in the program - this is basically cameras, microphones, and a computer system linking three universities (mine in the UK, and the others in Finland and Holland) in real time. So a professor in Finland, for example, gives a lecture and students see it in both the UK and Holland. Having come from universities where technology was just sufficient (think projectors, powerpoint, and a button to lower and raise the overhead screen) this new international conference call is really impressive. It feels as if both space and time, since the three sites share three different time zones, are being collapsed for the purpose of study. It's like SKYPE for the classroom!

My residence room is pretty typical but features a few perks: it was built two years ago so everything is new, it is close to a large pond with geese (and their fecal matter everywhere), a floor to ceiling dresser to hold the many clothes I brought, and (drumroll please) my own en-suite bathroom with the BEST shower pressure I've ever had. Erin, and others, this will come as a shock since the pressure at 8VINE was beyond sufficient, but I actually had to turn the pressure to a lower setting to avoid burning my skin. While I've gone through the typical "what am I doing, why am I here?!" phase of arriving at my destination, I figure things can only go up. We continue the program's 'induction' period until Friday afternoon, which includes a presentation from each student concerning their chosen 'keyword' (I've already received compliments on the originality of my choice!) I applied to the campus bar to work a few hours a week and they responded the same day asking if I'd like to staff events now - I think I'll have to decline for the first two weeks to get settled but hopefully I'll have a QP-esque job if everything works out with my student visa (Buffalo Chicken wraps, anyone?) We visit Birmingham tomorrow night (England's 2nd largest city) to see a play. Until then....

Doc's Prescription for the Day: In honour of Erin Rochelle Schachter's 24th birthday (on the 24 of September) drink a glass of champagne for this milestone of ironic birthdayisms. My champagne birthday was when I was 9 (Oct.9) and I'm certain it was ginger ale I was drinking instead. Happy Birthday, my dear.