October

It's been a month since I last posted. 

Oops. 

In that time I've moved in with a lovely family in Hyde,

 Made some friends,

(including a fellow Lomaite)

Helped with some DIY projects,

Introduced some Brits to the joy that is Breakfast for Dinner, 

(One of them thought we were going to eat cereal)

And read lots and lots of books. 

I've also experienced British cinema, eaten my weight in fish & chips, and ruined at least one pair of shoes playing soccer on the school lawn. Mischief Managed. 

Fall (Autumn?) here is as obnoxiously pretty as you'd expect it to be.  

Forgive me for not updating much. There are too many leaf piles to jump in. But I'm loving the mail, texts, and facetime updates from home - keep them coming!

A Traveler's Success Story

The other day I had a few minutes to spare before getting the bus, so I stopped into a cafe.
I had the right amount of change for a raspberry muffin, and the cashier didn't even have to correct me.
I got to the bus stop just as a bus was arriving, and I knew which bus station to ask for to get home.
Most importantly, I didn't drop my muffin while I got out my bus pass.

Builder's Tea

Amidst all the galavanting and sight-seeing, I made it to school for orientation. 

Back Lawn

Back of the White House, which is the administrative building 

Such brick. Very mortar. 

Lawn in front of the Chapel, Cafe, and Conservatory.

Front of the White House. 

Grad classes don't start until next week, so I've been burying myself in pre-reading (and touring the various public libraries Manchester has to offer). 

Also, I've been told that the strength of tea I prefer is called "builder's tea," which means leaving the tea bag in for roughly twice as long as British Sensibility deems prudent. The More You Know.

City Centre

Student council took us (the first years) into the city centre for an afternoon of touring.

These walkways connect Town Hall and the Central Library.

This is where they told us, "The Americans can go stand over there if they want to feel like they're in Harry Potter." 

Mischief Managed. 

Town Hall as it faces St. Peter's Square.

More Town Hall. 

This is where the British Comic Con happens.

I think this is just a restaurant, but it's a pretty block of buildings, right next to an industrial-looking glass & steel shopping mall. 

Walk Home

Some sunset pictures from a walk home from the tram (trolley) last week:

Bridge over the canal (which runs through much of Manchester)

And the most ferocious guard dog on the block.

It's Not Weird...It's Different

In honor of Melissa T., some observations from my first few days here...

- "Brew" means tea or coffee
- Instead of a top sheet, you change your duvet cover and fitted sheet
- A bunch of vegetables have different names
- GPS? Try SatNav instead
- Squash isn't a vegetable, it's juice concentrate that you mix with water
- The whole driving-on-the-other-side-of-the-road thing is expected, but it turns out which way you look before crossing the street is more ingrained than I realized. No close calls, yet.
- Custard is heated and poured over desserts. The "skin" on top is a delicacy.
- Without a data plan, I don't have access to the internet unless I'm on wifi. As a die-hard Input, it's incredibly frustrating to walk by all these historical buildings and places and not be able to look them up right away.
- And then there's this:

Tea on the Terrace

Yesterday after church we went to a friend's house for tea....on the terrace...in the butterfly garden. I pinched myself a few times just to be sure it was real.

After lunch we went on a walk to pick blackberries on an old paved-over railway:

It was reminiscent of the Amador City backroads, except without the cattle pastures.

      A few days ago I went with Leanne to the hair salon. I didn't want to stare, but I'm pretty sure the woman running the shop was Molly Weasley. 

  It's raining, so I'm catching up on Harry Potter before the busyness of school starts. The kittens don't seem to mind having me around the house.

Dizzy was eager to help me update the blog today. 

In other news, my hometown has been on fire.  There are a few thousand fire fighters getting it contained, but it's been surreal to watch it all unfold on social media from 5,000 miles away.

245 Fairfield

4 airports, a few delays, a few too many timezones, and the most expensive airport sandwich I've ever consumed, I've arrived in Manchester. 

First view out the plane as we landed:

It's so green!

This is our street: 

 EVERYTHING is brick. And I now have photographic proof that the sky isn't always gray. 

 The view from my window:

Dizzy's decided that she's quite fond of my wool socks. The fact that I've pulled them out in September has Leanne laughing at me, but warm toes are worth a little ridicule. 

After my 11 hour "nap", we went to the Coffee Lounge at Ashton Church of the Nazarene. 

Most of the buildings in Ashton-Under-Lyne are brick and "historic." My tour guides (Leanne and her sister) thought my amazement at the architecture was entertaining. I had to explain earthquakes to them.

 I didn't get a picture of it, but the market around the corner from church had a cacti stand. So maybe there's hope for my green thumb after all. 

There are kittens in my lap and I'm on my 3rd cup of tea, so I'd say I'm settling in alright. 

Awesome People

The Sophomore Girls' prayer for the year has been "Dear Jesus, please help us be awesome people." 

It started out as a joke, but then it stuck, so we went with it. 

I've had the privilege of journeying with these ladies for almost 5 years now. They ask good questions, they explore what it means to love Jesus by loving their friends, their families, and sports teams, and they support me (physically as well as emotionally), even when I make decisions that mean leaving them right before SAT season. 

More than anything, they teach me by example that being "awesome people" usually means being vulnerable and courageous and grace-filled, and leaving a lot of room for Jesus. 

Last Time...

When I was in junior high and high school, the day before my birthday every year, my best friend made it her mission to narrate the day for me...

"Last time waking up when you're 15!"
"Last time waiting at the bus stop when you're 15!"
"Last time going to P.E. when you're 15!"
"Last time eating a sandwich when you're 15!
"Last time throwing a book at me when you're 15!"

The whole day. Every. Year.

It became a tradition of trying to outdo each other with 11:58pm phone calls and obnoxious minutia ("Last time walking under this doorway..."). As all best friendships should be.

Now, as I wrap up these last few weeks in San Diego, Shelby's voice is back in my head:

"Last time eating a burrito on the cliffs while you live in America"
"Last time leading a small group while you live in America"
"Last time making coffee in your own kitchen while you live in America"
"Last time having a mental breakdown in Target while you live in America"

...I'm still here for a couple more weeks, so probably not my last time melting in Target, but it's a nice idea.

Keys

I've been thinking a lot about keys lately.

I lose mine.
Often.
But when I can keep track of them, they're pretty useful for things like starting my car and checking my mail.

My parents didn't lock our front door when I was growing up (seriously. We had to buy new doorknobs when we went back east for a week in junior high, because we didn't even know where the keys were), so I never had a house key. I was kind of jealous of the kids on the bus who had them - on rings in their backpacks or on chains like necklaces. They could unlock things. It seemed very grown up and responsible.

When I was 15, my parents let me practice driving up and down our dirt driveway. I wasn't allowed on the actual road, but I begged them to let me take the spare car key with me to school. They must have had premonitions of my key-losing ways, because they wouldn't let me take a useless-to-me key to school as a piece of jewelry. Which meant that senior year, when I was finally allowed on the road, I wore that spare key like a badge of honor.

Fast forward 5 or so years, when I was given my first set of church keys. Somewhere in the universe, Snap started a gospel rendition of "I've Got the Power." Several of the staff members got keys around the same time, and the first few weeks afterward, we would race each other to be the one to unlock buildings and volunteer to go with "The Keyless" to open supply closets.

After awhile though, the excitement wore off. Some of those supply closets are far away from the office, and sometimes being the one with keys means being the last one to leave so you can lock up. I've been accused of losing my keys intentionally to avoid these kinds of responsibilities (unfounded, incidentally).

15 year old me would be envious of my current key ring. House keys, mail keys, car keys, church keys...it would make a fantastic, if uncomfortable, charm bracelet of responsibilities. But over the course of the next couple of weeks, I'll be giving my house and mail keys back to my landlord, selling my car, and handing over my church keys, leaving me with an empty "vintage" PLNU lanyard and "mitad del mundo" keychain. One less thing to lose, but also a tangible reminder that this chapter of my life is closing.

It's funny how such small bits of metal can become such big symbols of identity.

"A Great Place to Study Theology"

We're packing our bags!*

This September I will heading back to the far side of the sea to attend Nazarene Theological College in Manchester, England (a great place to study theology!). I'll be working toward a Masters in Theology, with an emphasis in Social Justice & Compassionate Ministry. It's a one year program, and will contribute to my course requirements for ordination.

...Also, it's in England.  (Check out pictures of campus here. No, you will not fit in my luggage.)

I'll be living with these lovely people:

I met David & Leanne last December at NYC UK. They've been a tremendous help in this process, both with applying to school and helping me feel at home in their home - before I even get there. And their only request in return was that I bring them a few packets of blue jello. 

In the month left before takeoff, my biggest request is for prayer (and if you live nearby, maybe help with packing?) - this is by far the biggest transition of my life, in the shortest amount of time. I am beyond excited about this next year, but the to-do list between here and there seems to be growing longer instead of shorter, and there are a lot of details to finalize and things to wrap my head around (What is Tesco? Will I ever taste real Mexican food again? Why is there white fluffy cold stuff on the ground?). 

Updates will posted here, or look for #beachestoBritain on a social media platform near you.



*Actually, just me. Leo is staying here in San Diego for the time being. He's not pleased, as you can see.