Trip to the hospital and a Cuban Barber

Hey all!
I have responded to the wonderful comments that you left me! Thank you. I am sure this will be a shorter entry because tomorrow morning I leave for an exciting 3 weeks of spring break in Europe!

Last weekend was my 21st birthday and we had a lovely time! I made tacos and had a small party with my friends. Then on my actual birthday we ordered take away (take-out) Chinese food and watched one of my favorite films, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The next morning I became violently ill. I am not sure if it was the dodgy Chinese or what, but I didn’t eat properly for nearly three days. The American in me refused to go to the doctor. This whole “free national health care” thing sounded a bit too good to be true. Finally I caved. Wednesday night I was getting worse and asked James to take me to the hospital. Knowing that I would have to fill out loads of forms I took a billion forms of ID (passport, student id, drivers license etc.), my insurance card, and my credit card (just in case!). When I got there the woman at the desk asked me for my name, date of birth, address, phone number, and an emergency contact (thanks James!). That’s it. I never filled out a single form, never showed any sort of id. She sent me round the corner to wait. Here it goes I thought! This is going to take foooorever! I glanced round while I waited, sizing the place up the way one looks over mom’s new boyfriend, still loyal what you hold dear, but curious nonetheless. A few minor, minor things were in disrepair (the paper towel dispenser had to be taped shut and the molding on the floor had duct tape on it in one spot). Other than that, it was fine. Nothing too flashy, the walls might have needed some paint, but it was a perfectly functional hospital! There was even a machine that went “ping”!

I waited about 30 seconds before a nurse got to me. The woman sent me to see someone else. The second woman told me I had a “tummy bug” (I think she was a pediatrician) and gave me four boxes of various medicines to try. I checked out and that was it. We called a cab and I went home. No forms, no co-pays… nothing. The hospital doesn’t even have a cash register. It was possibly one of the most surreal experiences of my life.

I am not sure how I feel about having a National Health Service. Our schools and law enforcement are nationalized. When we call the police because we’ve been robbed, they don’t take our insurance information before sending someone over. Having a national health care system seems great in some ways. The citizens do pay for it in taxes, but everyone is guaranteed treatment, no matter who they are. I think too there is a propensity to abuse the system in a sense. I became ill again this morning and was tempted to catch a cab right back to the hospital, a little drunk on the excitement of free health care. So I could see how people would go for every little thing. What do you all think about it?

One last note. I went to get my hair cut at this really ritzy place in town (we had buy-one-get-one free vouchers!). I ended up with this guy who didn’t speak much English and Rachel got a fellow British woman. Of course when we sit down, I start chatting to him. Turns out he’s a contemporary dancer from Cuba. He worked at a hotel when a Scottish woman visited on holiday; they fell in love and married. He moved to Edinburgh to be with her. He likes it here, but definitely had some complaints! We chatted easily about the things we missed about home and had a few good laughs, both relishing in having someone to loud with again! Later Rachel told me that she and her barber were amused by how American I was being. I asked what I’d done. She said that people don’t talk to strangers. They may make small talk, but no one would share all the details that we were discussing. That seems to be so much more commonplace in the states. I think I rather like being open. You learn so much more about life. Think of all the great information I would have missed out on if we had made small talk, rather than having a real discussion!


Observations from the past few weeks
- The grade in my Social Work class is 40% an essay and 60% a final exam. Over 20% of the class simply didn’t hand in the essay. But remember, they only have to pass their first and second year classes, grades do not count. So if they do well on the exams it will be fine.
- I had an interview over Skype with a summer camp in Michigan! How’s that for technology flattening the world! I knew you would be proud Dr. Perruci.
- Two of my classes literally told us what the essay questions are on the final. For both classes, I could have skipped every single lecture and still passed with a little research on my own before the exam. No wonder people skip class so much!

Hope you all have a wonderful week!
Katy

Its raining... rain and candy

Hey all! I hope you are having a wonderful spring break! Enjoy your week off : ) Things here are great. This past we went to Loch Lomond! We stayed in a hostel that was also an old castle; it was so beautiful (add cliché study abroad phrases). And for our movie night we watched Braveheart IN a castle IN Scotland… pure happiness!

On Saturday I signed up to go “cave walking” and canoeing at the adventure center. Well! There was no walking involved at all! We were lowered 50 feet into a cave and crawled and climbed through narrow passage ways! It was so amazing! This was all in the rain of course! Then we went canoeing on a loch, in the rain still : ) We also got to witness a sheep dog demonstration (in the rain)! I was kind of rooting for the sheep (bah ram youuuu). Overall, the weekend was a wet one, and very fantastic!

So my trip to Liverpool was a long time ago, but it didn’t fit in my last blog! Oops! My friend and I had fun walking around the harbor (where the Titanic set sail) and having lunch with her parents. I did not realize how overly crowded the country is in the cities in England. They complain about people coming into the country and taking jobs too! The train getting there was a great success as well! I found my platform all by myself, using the automated boards overhead. Let’s hear it for the girl! I asked a frowning conductor just to double check, and of course I was wrong. Apparently the train on platform B is actually on Platform C. So always ask! I took three pictures from the entire trip, one of which I have included. I need to get better about that! Anyway, as always, the trip was not without it’s challenging moments.

The train itself was very nice, decorated in a soothing purple and green. It was incredibly crowded, people were standing in the aisles, and I was thankful to have a reserved seat. The train got going (no one yelled, “All aboard” much to my disappointment) and we settled into our seats. And no one talked! I mean no one. The only noise was coming from the ipod of the middle-aged balding man two rows in front of me listening to Disturbia by Rihanna. It was ridiculous. It was eerie that so many people could be so quiet. I frowned; I didn’t want to spend the entire trip in creepy silence. I had a book, but it was a three-hour train journey. I turned to the girl next me. She was about my age and was reading a textbook about the Effect of Language in Western Culture. While I’m sure it was a real page-turner, I decided to test the waters, and extend the olive branch of friendship. I smiled and whispered, “You working on homework on a Friday too?”. This turned out to be one of the worst decisions I could have made. While these people didn’t prompt conversation on their own, once you opened pandora’s box there was no getting it closed again. Once I started her talking, she took off like a shot. She loudly chatted about her classes, her first year at University, and the lasagna her boyfriend was making for her and was supposed to have ready when she got off the train, but he probably wouldn’t because he’s not a very good cook and has a tendency to forget to set the timer. Therefore it was plausible that they would be going out to eat that night.
It was painfully obvious that we were the ONLY people talking. It was comparable to those moments in the movie when the protagonist pokes the alarm clock in the room of sleeping lions, just to see if it would go off. Inevitably it does and the contrast between the screeching alarm and the silence is literally painful. I tried to calm her by lowering my own voice, but it was to no avail. (Picture was taken from the train to Liverpool, while she was still talking)

I sheepishly glanced around the train as she loudly rattled on. We were the only people talking, and everyone knew it. The middle-aged balding man, whose ipod I could no longer hear over the yammering of my seatmate, gave me a frown of disapproval. Apparently, since I was the American, I was to blame for instigating the conversation and therefore responsible for disturbing the peace and silence of the train. I knew that if I didn’t put a stop to this girl there is no telling what would happen. I turned to the girl and said kindly, “Well it’s been lovely to talk to you, but I really do need to finish this book.” She grinned and agreed that her homework was overwhelming as well and she better start it now, because goodness knows how much she was going to get done at home with after seeing her friends, who were planning a big party since she was home... A few moments later I glanced back at the middle-aged man to see if I had been forgiven. His head was resting on the back of the seat, his eyes closed. I could hear the power ballad lyrics of Beyonce. Lesson learned.

The next train was better. As I sat down I noticed that there were two blond sisters, about seven and eight, and their mother a few seats in front of me, sitting at a table in the train. The two girls reminded me of my sister and I when I was younger. They were apparently on their way home after a fun filled day because the girls had matching stuffed animals and candy. Their mother was passed out asleep! The girls were hitting each other with their plush unicorns and laughing, taking advantage of the temporary lapse in parental authority. I smiled, and remembered those days with my younger sister. The older sister picked up her candy. It was a large clear, plastic tube of M&M’s (Much smaller than the candies in the picture) with a candy cane shaped top holding the M&M’s inside the tube.
The sweets made a fun rattling noise and she shrieked in delight and shook harder, glancing at her mom to see how far she could push her new found freedom... Mom didn’t move. Her younger sister just laughed, encouraging her. At this point she was throwing her entire body into the shaking. I smiled and began the inevitable countdown in my head. 10…9…8… I barely made it to 3 when the top dislodged and the M&M’s exploded from the tube! It rained all colors of the rainbow inside that train. A million little candies made plinking noises as they hit the floor. Everyone on the train turned round to see... then, total silence. The girl with the empty tube in her hands didn't move, a shell-shocked look plastered on her face and she gaped at her sister. They both stared, wide eyed at each other, knowing they were “in hot water” as my mother would say. It was look my sister and I have shared many times. Complete silence… Then, ever so carefully… they both slooowly turned to look at their mother…fearing the worst… nothing... mom hadn’t moved. Success! The sisters shared a mischievous, secretive smile. The threat of danger gone, they resumed bashing each other with their fluffy unicorns. As we got off the train, I heard the mother admonishing the older sister for having eaten her entire tube of candy on the train. Behind their mother's back the girls shared a look of conspiracy known only in the sibling world. Mom would never know what really happened.
I will leave you with a pretty picture of Loch Eck, the site of our canoeing adventure in the rain

"Thank Goodness they Put an Alarm There"

It’s getting to be that time again. I feel the urge to blog! It’s bubbling up in me like the potato and leek soup the dining hall served last night! If you posted on my last blog, I have posted answers to them all as a comment on that blog. If there are questions you need more urgent answers to, please feel free to email me! I know it takes me a little while to get back to you all. Thanks for all the wonderful comments!

I finally got to visit the inside of Edinburgh castle! (Pictured) (Insert cliché study abroad phrases here: It was so amazing! I can’t believe how old it was! Etc.) I learned that any prisoner being held in Edinburgh castle received a daily ration of: 1.5 pounds of bread, 3/4 pound of beef, 1/4 pound of butter, and 2 pints of beer! I also got to see the crown jewels of Scotland. They are encrusted with over 20 gemstones, over 20 precious stones, pure gold, a whole mess of diamonds, and no I could not borrow them for the weekend. I did take a wildly dramatic picture of Edinburgh weather. The weather here is insane! Yesterday it was sunny and warm, then the sun disappeared and it got cold. Then it rained, and then it hailed. All in the span of about 4 hours!

This week marks two months in Scotland! I can’t believe it’s been so long! I feel adjusted to school and life here, though most of it is pretty similar. It is very strange that there are four weeks left of classes and I still have received no grades. I’m used to having a general idea of what final grades to expect by this point, but I am clueless! Hopefully, I’ll get back two essay grades within the next week or so. There are four more weeks of classes, three weeks of spring break, and six weeks of exams (I only have 3 exams), and then I come back home! I was worried about exams, since the only grade in my Developmental class is the final exam, until someone showed me that all the exams from the last 10 years are all online, so I can use those to know what to expect. Score! I am working on making plans for spring break and then more travel plans during exams, since obviously it does not take a month and a half to take three exams!

Thoughts/ Observations from the past 3 weeks
- British cinema’s shop at the same tacky carpet stores as theatres in the States. Yay for blue carpet with neon planets and stars!
- I forget that I have an accent. I know that everyone else does. But it’s easy to forget that I sound weird to my friends. Well, it’s easy until Rebecca reminds me by yelling, “Oh my Gawwd!” Valley Girl style every time she sees me, because apparently that is what I sound like!
- Laundry detergent and laundry soap look surprisingly similar. This of course, turned out to be a fragrant mistake, my clothes smelled very strongly of "sunshine". You take a look at the bottle and YOU tell me where it says “fabric softener.”
- It’s much more difficult than I anticipated to determine the difference between what characteristics in a person are motivated by culture and what are motivated by their own personality. It's hard to tell, and I am trying so hard not to make assumptions about an entire culture. Am I, Katy Black, loud and outgoing because I’m an American or simply because I’m Katy. The world may never know!
- No one shares a room with anyone else. All rooms on campus, in the dorms or flats, are singles.
- I can imagine that studying abroad now is very different that studying abroad 10 years ago. Sure email and facebook makes life a lot easier. But Skype has been the most preventative measure to not catching homesickness. Skype is a free online videoconferencing service. On Saturday I watched my seven-year-old brother open his birthday presents. It looked exactly like I was sitting across the table from him
- They don’t wear bright colors here. Red stands out in a crowd. I wore a pink sweater into the JMC last weekend and was the only person in anything that bright. Maybe it will change in the summer, but the hot pink sweatshirt my grandmother sent me ensures that I won’t get lost in a crowd!

Lately, I’ve found that my propensity toward homesickness is directly correlated to my level of country music consumption. I think what I miss is the patriotic mood behind it. The culture of overblown patriotism portrayed in lots of country music is so unique to us that I cant help but kind of be the tinniest bit proud of just how ridiculously in love we are with our country, even if it is a bit blind. Only in America would songs like "God Bless the USA" and “Courtesy Of The Red, White And Blue” top our charts. I asked my Scottish friend if they had songs like that in Scotland, and she kind of laughed and said no. But she noted that maybe it’s that we are still so excited about independence and that if Scotland gained independence maybe they would be the same way. While I know that the U.S. is not perfect, I must admit that I kinda miss that unashamed American pride.(I am not sure who the guy pictured is, but he seemed to have a lot of American pride!)

The JMC (my dining hall) continues to bring new clarity to the term “fine dining.” A few weeks ago they served “Cajun Chicken.” I was so excited! Finally some food real flavor! I was ready to break out the crawfish and jazz music in celebration. My elation did not last long. “Cajun chicken” turned out to be chicken smothered (there’s a good Cajun word!) in marinara sauce (mysteriously we had spaghetti with tomato sauce the night before… hmmm…) and chickpeas. Now, I have been to New Orleans and I never encountered any marinara sauce or chickpeas! I was so disappointed that I didn’t want to eat it, but it was either a plate of cultural disappointment or Cauliflower and blue cheese soup… and no, I’m not kidding.

On Wednesday my MWF Literature class meets in the Geology Annex 10 minutes off campus. Don’t ask me why, I have no idea. The building is foreboding and ancient and it impossible to find a bathroom. I finally found one a few weeks ago and I encountered the sign pictured to the left of the door. First of all, what a terrible place for an alarm. If I had not been able to read the sign there is a good chance I would have made the mistake. Can you imagine the embarrassment! This got me to wondering what sort of alarm would sound if I were to mistakenly pul the red chord. A proper fire alarm or a simple “I’m trapped in an elevator alarm” ? Would the alarm alert the police? This led to the obvious next question… What was the alarm to be used for? What sort of emergency could one possibly encounter while using the toilet in the Geology Annex that required an alarm? Fires don’t typically start in the bathroom, and Geology buildings tend not to be particularly dangerous. The probability of a disaster such as noxious fumes seeping under the door was small, which might be more likely in a Chemistry building. What bathroom catastrophe would cause me to shout with elation, "Thank God someone put an alarm here!”? Even if I fell into the toilet (which would be impossible since only women use this restroom and therefore no one would be leaning the seat up) and were stuck, I seriously doubt that I would sound an alarm in my distress. I wish I had a witty explanation for this unfathomable sign, but I am hoping that one of you will be able to offer a plausible justification.

I hope that you all have a wonderful week!
Katy