i knew it was supposed to rain today, but i figured since it was only a short walk to the tube station, and then to the natural history museum (my destination for the day), i didn't need an umbrella. epic mistake.
i had gotten to the edge of queen mary when it began to hail. i decided i should turn around to get my umbrella, but when i whipped around--and the hellish ice bullets began pelting my face--i realized that i should just run for cover, rather than running AGAINST the hailstorm. luckily, i didn't have long to wait. less than a minute later, it stopped! i decided to grab my umbrella just in case, though...but of course once i re-emerged from my building, the sun was shining. typical.
but, with my ipod headphones securing my privacy, i headed onwards to tube it to south kensington again. it's a moderately long tube journey--about 35 minutes--so i entertained myself by checking out everyone in the carriage. normally i don't do this, since i figure london is like LA and people on public transportation see your staring as either a threat or an invitation. indeed, most people on the tube tend to look at their hands or at the floor. unless it's really crowded, or there are drunks, children, or generally obnoxious people riding, the tube is pretty SUBdued (get it?). in fact, i was reflecting on this widespread civility as i walked to the museum.
then, in a matter of hours, my view of great britain changed forever.
i had expected to see insects, birds, and monsters at the natural history museum. i hadn't anticipated that the scariest of them all would be english children.
i had had encounters with the wee brits before. if you'll recall, i sat next to one on the flight here, but i tried to be patient since long flights are hard for children. when she misbehaved, i was utterly appalled when her mother repeatedly snapped at her to "shut up," and eventually spanked her. i was confident that most children here would be polite and cute under normal circumstances.
then, a few weeks ago, i sat next to those little beasts on the train. their grandparents basically let them run wild, and do as they like, of which i disapproved. i had thought that they were exceptions to the rule, though, because i like to give people the benefit of the doubt and to avoid making negative generalizations. well, brace yourselves, because i'm about to unleash.
the british children i've encountered have been shockingly horrible. and their parents are completely ineffectual. sometimes, if they get fed up enough, they're what americans would consider abusive. today i saw hundreds upon hundreds of these people to back up the awful declarations i'm making.
for some reason, it never crossed my mind that going to the nhm on a saturday might be a bad idea. the place was bursting with people, and about half of them were under the age of ten. throughout the course of the day, i saw kids climbing over railings and ropes that blocked off/protected exhibits, saw kids throwing food, saw kids crawling on the floor among throngs of people, saw kids punching, slapping, and kicking each other, saw a kid trying to steal from the gift shop, and heard nonstop screaming.
furthermore, throughout the day, about five different kids knocked into me. normally i wouldnt mind--each time it happened, i looked down to give the child a friendly smile. in my (limited) experience, every time this has occurred in america, the kid will either smile back, say "sorry" and look scared, or run away (the last being the most popular). in britain, every single time, the kid would blatantly GLARE at me...and some bared their teeth. WHAT?!
to top things off, parents didn't seem to care at all. most stood idly by, not saying anything as their spawn attempted to destroy the natural history museum and its visitors. some were angry, though, and resorted to cursing, shouting, and ear boxing to keep their offspring in line. seeing all this was definitely a cultural experience.
perhaps i should move on, though. i'm hopeful that i'll encounter some lovely lads and lassies before i head home, but i'm not holding my breath. shall i tell you about the museum itself?
here are some pictures i took of the outside--the building was finito in 1880 (same year as usc's founding!). the place is gigantic, so i couldn't fit the whole thing into one picture. some fragments:
can you spot union jack?
the entryway had a replica of one of longest animals to ever live, at about 100 feet. his name is "dippy"i've always liked fossils, so after checking out dippy i headed into that part of the museum. it was really cool! after that, i looked at the bird exhibit, which had hundreds of species, stuffed to perfection. the taxidermy was amazing.
and of course, i had to take a picture of baldibus eaglebus (the scientific name, haha). USA! USA!
DODOS! and i thought i'd never see one!
dozens of hummingbirds (took this picture for you, mum!)
close up of the critters
i eventually finished up with the animals, and headed to the mineral gallery (containing thousands of examples of minerals and elements and shiny stuff), and to the "vault," which had my favorite part--gems! they were so beautiful.
300 differently-colored diamonds. sparkly!
opals--cue veruca salt voice: "daddy! i want them NOW!"one of the most famous parts of the museum is the life-sized blue whale. i tried to get a good pic, but it was too crowded to get a good'un. suffice to say the whale was gigantic, and very impressive!
another cool exhibit, on the origins of humanity. gotta love those neaderthals and australopithecines (thanks, mr. haryung, for sparking my interest in these specimens in sixth grade science!)
the neaderthal noggin looks suspiciously insalata-sized
after a few hours of meandering, i had a flashback to when i was 8, with my family at an egypt exhibit. after i'd had enough, i had said, "my eyes hurt!" lately, with museum overload, i've been feeling the same way. i can only do small doses!
for, indeed, i've been up and about to suck up what london has to offer. yesterday, chris and i planned to go to the national portrait gallery to look at paintings and photos of britain's prized peeps. unfortuantely (or fortunately?), i'm a bit thick when it comes to effectively reading signs. i took us to the national gallery instead! luckily, the place was chock-filled with amazing art. we saw van gogh, da vinci, van dyck, cezanne, rembrandt, monet, claude, raphael, and titian originals! i didnt take any photos (because i wasn't sure if they were allowed!), so i'm sorry that i can't share the beauty! it's better in person, anyways.
later last night, chris and i (everyone else in the flat is gone for the weekend!) went to the cinema to see "bronson," which was incredibly bizarre. i don't know if i even liked it. crazy brits, at it again!
anyways, i know this post is getting lengthy, so let me finish up by saying i've been on a new reading kick since my classes ended on thursday, and i haven't read for pleasure since january. so, in the past few days, i've started and finished the curious incident of the dog in the night-time, which i thoroughly enjoyed. since part of it is set in london, i decided to read only london-set books from now until i leave in june. up next on the list--saturday by ian mcewan. i'll letcha know how it goes!
and lastly, a shoutout to my dearest parentals, who sent me a care package with girl scout cookies--it arrived yesterday! the delivery man, seeing what was on the "contents description," laughed and said "cookies, eh? all the way from america? well, enjoy yourself!" with an incredulous smirk. haha, one of the things i like about england is how everyone feels entitled to "take the piss" out of anyone.
of course, after tearing open the package, i immediately stuffed myself with some thin mints. after talking them up for a few days, i knew i had to have chris try a few. he did...and was sorely disappointed. i have to admit, i had to hold myself back from slapping him across the face. he called them "bland."
girl scout cookies are america's cookies. they fill us with feelings of good will, nostalgia, and always-being-prepared-ness. i guess aliens just don't understand. or maybe the british taste buds are broken after eating so much "bacon," aka flappy, greasy ham. clearly i'm not bitter that chris didn't like them.
thin minted,
lilly
