England Journal

When I first heard my alarm clock go off, I did not want to get up. Who wants to get up at one AM anyway? Then I remembered why I was getting up so early, and it put me in motion. My mom and I drove to school in the dark, and were the first to get there at one fifty in the morning. It was a while until everybody else including the bus got there. When it finally did arrive we boarded it and started our journey to England. It took a while for everyone to get quiet, and for me to get in a comfortable position to actually get some sleep. I was lying there and I didn’t notice how quiet it had gotten. I had been listening to music, and I was so intrigued by it, I didn’t notice the background noise-silence. There were only a few voices, but I fell asleep despite off them. I was half asleep when I noticed a buzzing noise, which had been going on for a while. Then I lurched forward, putting my hand out for support, for the bus driver had stopped to fix what ever was making the noise. Then the bus became a riot again. My classmates and I, sitting, talking and laughing for a long time, were quieted, and it was once again silent.

The fish look dead in this pond. They look like big orange blobs all huddled together in the water. If you look closely though, you can see that they are moving. They have so much space to move around, and yet they just sit there. Maybe they are sleeping or too tired to move their fins. Maybe they don’t like this pond. The bottom is filled with leaves and muck. Maybe they don’t like the dead plants around them, which only show a few signs or life. Maybe they actually think that the fake kingfisher is going to walk over and eat them. What ever it is, I have no clue.

A lot of the things we saw today were covered with green from age. The gargoyles, and some of the building and gates, all had green, which added to the eeriness and the history. The moss that grew between the stones in a courtyard made a maze of green, which looked like a million rivers. Green is such a happy color. Every time I see something like moss on a tree or stones, I am intrigued by it, and I feel a calming sensation come over me.

As soon as we stepped on the train, and as soon as they knew that we were American, the chanting started. It wasn’t a bad chant, it was quite silly. I can’t remember it exactly, but one line was close to, “We are American!” They sang in the deep British voices. We got off the train and a group of about fifteen men were chanting something very loudly. The police were already there ready for anything. We walked through a swarm of people, the street was filled with supporters. I was amazed of how many people there were going to this particular soccer-“football” game. The stands were filled with people. Everybody was either talking or chanting some game song, which sounded like a huge chorus singing something that you couldn’t quite make out, but one thing for sure was that it was loud. During the game people were yelling out what the players should have done, swearing or actually cheering for their team.

People were moving everywhere. A million different voices, a million people, walking in a million different directions. The languages sounded like an orchestra of all different cultures. As I got closer I heard Italian, French, German, Chinese and different British accents. All of this blended into the techno music at a stand.

When we went to the globe and had an acting workshop, I really came out of my shell. I had never really acted before in my life, except in the sixth grade play. Everyone said I was good, but I didn’t go on to do anymore acting. The reason was because I thought people would think I looked or acted funny. Yesterday, I had a break through, and really listened and tried hard to express the feeling of my character. I tried to pick parts that I was uncomfortable with. One thing that I picked a lot was a high status character, because in real life I am a shy person. I gave it my best try, and on one particular part I heard someone yell to me, that what I had just done was really good. I smiled shyly and said thanks.

The Cabinet War Rooms were quite amazing, dark and small. It had many rooms and all of them had different jobs. In one room you could contact any important person anywhere in the world, but it would probably get confusing with all the buttons and telephones. This great range of communication amazed me since it was only the 40’s. In another room they had siren and Winston Churchill’s speech about the Blitz the day after it happened. They made it seem so realistic, but it was a little hard to understand what he was trying to say. I could hear the siren from a few rooms before, and it scared me. I guess that added to the affect of the cramped dark quarters, and what it was like in the time of WWII.

When I first heard that The Tempest was going to be South African based, I thought that the may go over board with the culture, and it would ruin the whole play. As I thought about the biggest themes to play, forgiveness and being confined, it started to make sense about why the play was taking place in South Africa. It turned out that the play was very well done. They made these outrageously huge puppets that were very beautiful. And the clothes and the scenery was amazing. I honestly can say that I loved the whole thing. The acting was wonderful. One part though that I particularly liked was the very end. Prospero is leaving, and he pours water over Ariel’s body and it’s makes the white paint come off, which I found to be very powerful. Also Caliban at the end stands on a rock, eyes closed looking into the only spotlight that is on him, and he finally knows that he is free. The music throughout the whole play was all live, and suited each scene very well. Especially at the end when you hear a women singing in a different language and plucking of a guitar, which was very eerie and gave me the feeling that everything is all right.

SONNET


I wish this could go on longer

I want to live here
And witness this beauty everyday.
In the grass I will lay
And maybe shed a tear.

I want every memory to be clear.
I want to simply stay.
And have everything replay.
I wish everything would reappear.

As the rows of green fields pass by
mixxed with the sad guitar I listen to,
I silently cry.

The sky, the ocean, my eyes and my tears are blue.
This is my final goodbye!
Without this, what will I do?