"Emotions Run Wild" (#3)

Actually emotions have not run wild at all since we have arrived--at least not at Harlaxton (with the exception of some 'enthusiastic' discussions about the Brontes' literature). Mostly, my emotions have reflected a mellow, drink-it-all-in mentality. Since it is my first time abroad, I have tried to be as open-minded and accepting as possible. That being said, I can't help defending my own convictions about characters, education, or cuisine whenever possible. The emotions of other students at Harlaxton seem fairly similar to my own--Americans seem to enjoy emoting quite a bit---and can be heard typically over any of the locals. Luckily, everyone in our group meshes fairly well and seems content to live, eat, and socialize together--emotions on the upswing.

The Brits we have encountered are quite pleasant and a bit more reserved than us--with the exception of our cabbie the first night and a few local men at the pub. Somehow, with them, a local pub owner's tumultuous love life reveals the recent success or struggle of business and some random trash talk in a pub becomes "politics" that cause onlookers to find new seats, giggle and continue to eavesdrop on the drama. Mostly, however, the locals seem to have a quieter expression about them, even when gossiping or joking.

As I observe more of the cultural reservation around me, the clash of our cultures' emotions becomes more apparent. I find myself--the typically dramatic, excitable and expressive Josie--holding back a bit in public, trying not to call attention to myself and, in general, trying to "quiet down" so that I might fit in a bit better. This new awareness of myself and others has truly influenced the way I think about how people and the landscape relate to one another rather than exist as two separate and unrelated entities.

Harlaxton and Grantham: Initial Reactions (#2)

After pulling off the traditional highway, take a series of quick turns through a small neighborhood of quaint houses--attention immediately falls upon small but bright garden spaces and immaculately kept lawns in tidy little spaces. All of a sudden, turn on twisting and slightly bumpy road flanked with fields of endless green and poppies; upon lifting your head, there in the short distance sits the impressive and immense Harlaxton Manor. Dramatic gates guard the entrance to the caste-like exterior. Huge, wrought-iron gates assure you that you have entered a place of history and grandeur. Carved stone lions and cherubs, impressive steps leading to a side garden, multiple exterior side "outer" buildings (for lack of a better term) make you wonder where all the 19th century dresses and horses are hiding. Upon standing on the front steps or, better yet, peering outward from the raised view of the garden, your eyes can scan the distances of farm and fields---open, green and seemingly endless. It truly feels as if an entire kingdom lies before you and you can only feel privileged to have such a vantage point for viewing.

My expectations came from seeing one impressive picture of the exterior prior to arrival; I expected to feel small and in awe of the place I would be staying. Other than that, I came expecting something impressive on the outside, but completely modernized inside. It only became truly sublime upon actually standing in the space and imagining the history that has taken place here. The interior of the building has been most surprising, however, because much of the history remains inside the house. Clouds and sky with cherubs interspersed adorn ceilings, carved doors of at least 12 ft or greater open secretly from corners or walls to reveal former "service" stairwells, and intricately carved plaster ceilings sit high above the wooden staircases.

Any expectation I may have had, this place surpasses above and beyond. Buildings and groceries in town offer smaller spaces, and cute portion sizes of everything--but everything moves fast: especially cabs and cars (seatbelts are a MUST). The cozy spaces make everything seem more comfortable and down-to-earth, providing a sharp contrast with the over-sized dimensions of Harlaxton's building, rooms and artwork. This truly made it obvious how important the builders and dwellers of Harlaxton's history wanted to appear. Nothing nearby can compare to the space and ornamentation of the building, its contents, and the surrounding area. It's easy to see how previous owners of Harlaxton such as Gregory Gregory tried to "keep up with the Jones" by adding more and more to the building and grounds. It makes me think that town really was for the "people" to easily socialize and move about from building to building, while Harlaxton was for the elite to promenade in glorious dresses and dine under huge chandeliers. Even in the "biscuit" aisle at the grocery, cookies are arranged and labelled in sections from "premium" to "everyday"-- even snacks show a bit of lasting class division. The cultural shift from the Manor to town can be felt, even if only in imagination and history.

Preparing for departure

It is less than two weeks away...

I am just now realizing that I really am going to be on a plane that will take me far, far away

To encounter and embark upon landscapes
My eyes have not yet beheld
And my soles have not yet tred,
But my heart and mind are ready to embrace it all.