Tower of London - Ceremony of the Keys

Completely forgot to mention our evening tour of the Tower of London. I guess we've been living here so long, that I forget when we do the touristy stuff.
Anway, we were booked to see the Ceremony of the Keys, which is a ritualized way to close up the joint for the night. Aah, but what would the Tower be without its historical rituals? First we had a tour of the Tower by one of the resident Yoeman warders. There are about 150 (yeomen & their families) living inside the tower walls and get locked in every night. That is why they have their own doctor and pub and chaplain onsite. Although what would you do if you had a case of the munchies round about midnight?
For Ceremony, The Chief Warder, dressed in a Beefeater costume, marches his way to the front gate from the Byward Tower. After he locks the Traitor’s Gate, he makes his way towards the Bloody Archway tower, where he is stopped by a sentry. As part of its tradition, the sentry and Warder hold an exchange:
Sentry: ‘Halt, Who goes there?’
Warder: ‘The Keys!’
Sentry: ‘Whose keys?’
Warder: ‘Queen Elizabeth’s keys.’
Sentry: ‘Pass Queen Elizabeth’s keys – Alls well!’

After the traditional exchange the Chief Warder lifts his hat and proclaims ‘God preserve Queen Elizabeth.’ The clock chimes for 10 o’clock as the other Queen’s guards raise their bonnets and say ‘Amen.’ The entire process takes no more than 7 minutes, but has been going on for the last 700 years. Even during World War II, when German bombs rained down on London, the ceremony still took place with the exception of a direct hit, which delayed the ceremony by one-half hour.
I had heard that if you are really nice to your yeoman guide, he might invite you back to their pub, but unfortunately we had no luck regardless of how many hints we dropped! We ended our evening in a local pub with Zim and Michelle and got home by 11:30 pm.

Honk if you're Indian

The mode of traffic in Mumbai was fabulous to behold...no lanes painted and cars battling with trucks and motorcyclists to squeeze into every available inch of space on the road. And all this accompanied by the constant beeping of horns.
Honking seemed to be just another method of speaking with other people in India. Whole conversations seemed to be occurring from the comfort of your own vehicle in a language only understandable to you.

HONK! "Hey get out of my way!"
HONK! "I was here first!"
HONK! "I'm right beside you, watch out."
HONK! "Would you like to go for a curry later?"

It was all quite amusing, except for Orest who claims that these conversations were going on until 4 am out in front of our hotel and easily heard from our bed, where he lay tossing and turning.

The other interesting thing that happened is a narrow brush with fame. Unbeknownst to us, Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie arrived in Mumbai at the same time as us (but they were in a private helicopter) and proceeded to stay at the same hotel as us as well (but they were in the Palace part of the hotel, we were in the Tower). That evening we were booked to eat at Indigo, but cancelled at the last minute. Good thing too, Brangelina ended up there instead. (Do you think they took our reservation?)
All weekend long, they seemed to follow us around. How annoying! If they'd just stop stalking us and come out in the open, I would have graced them with an autograph!

More about Mumbai

So since the next day of our stay in Mumbai was Sunday, Orest and I booked a tour guide to take us around the sites of the city. I had read that Mumbai perhaps did not have an abundance of historical sights, but we managed to fill up 5 hours of time seeing the following

1. Our first stop (we only drove by the Victoria Train Terminal, Marine Drive and Chowpatty beach) was a Jain temple up in the Malabar Hills. Our tour guide whisked us through Indian religion fairly quickly, so our understanding of which gods were which was minimal at best. However, it was like entering the local community hall with its vendors in the courtyard selling patties and bread. The rituals involved in worship were very interesting and it was wonderful to be in the centre of it for a few moments.

2. Next were the Hanging Gardens, which were created on top of a reservoir in the Malabar Hills. Although the pruned trees and flowers were pretty, the informative talk from our guide regarding the Parsi (or Zoraostrian) funeral rites was of greater interest. Next to the gardens was the Doonderwadi complex where they would take their dead to one of the Towers of Silence (an open-aired tower) where the vultures were meant to devour the flesh and the sun meant to dry and decompose the rest of the body. (They did this because burying would defile Mother Earth and creamtion would desecrate the fire - all natural elements being sacred.) We took a photo from the hilltop, but it was rather hazy so not much of Marine Drive is visible.

3. The Mahatma Ghandi Museum was next, and here we followed the displays and learned more about the man who spent most of his life fighting for (and winning) the rights of all Indians. Here's a photo looking up at the balcony where he was arrested for his speech incurring civil disobedience.

4. Our last stop was the Prince of Wales Museum where we quickly went through the Indian portion of the displays and spent the rest of the time in the gift shop purchasing lovely prints and cards for literally pennies. It certainly beats the prices at the British Museum's gift shop!

A quick bit of shopping followed and then a lovely evening meal at what seems to be the only funky restaurant outside the hotel; Indigo. Orest and I risked dsysentery by ordering the king prawn starter, but it was too tasty to pass up!

Introduction to the Third World

This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I was in Bombay India (Or Mumbai, as it is now known) over the weekend. "What kind of idiot flies 9 hours to see a country for only 3 days?" you might ask. 'Tis I, the non-eco-friendly gal!
What an experience it was too...well worth the carbon emissions.
When Orest told me 6 weeks ago that he was going there on a business conference, I knew I had to take my chance and start tagging along to see the world. (I'd passed up several other fine opportunities that I'm kicking myself over now.)
With my shopping excursions laid out for me by my trustworthy advisor Lisa (she'd been there before) and other sound advice, I was still somewhat overwhelmed when we landed in this unreal cacophony of sights and smells.
The hour drive to our hotel gave us plenty of opportunities to see poverty at its lowest level, filth at its most exposed and rudimentary building materials (bamboo support structures and burlap used to keep cement wet) like they used 1000 years ago.
We were staying at the Taj Palace and Tower Hotel - the best Mumbai has to offer(see this link to view what I was lead to expect - http://www.tajhotels.com/Palace/THE%20TAJ%20MAHAL%20PALACE%20&%20TOWER,MUMBAI/Pdf/The-Taj-Mahal-Palace-&-Tower-Mumbai.pdf ), but even that was a letdown on first glance. The lobby, with its low ceiling and somewhat outdated style, reminded me of some of the communist attempt at interior decoration in some of the Warsaw hotels. Our room had a permanent musty smell to it that could only be eradicated by blowing up the entire 30-year old tower and starting over again.
It took the rest of the afternoon sitting by the pool to regain my confidence that I had not made a big mistake in coming to India. Looking back, I realize now that I had passed my comfort level - or even more sad - my comfort level has become narrower from my days of backpacking and youth hostels.
And confidence was definitely needed when Orest and I ventured out in the early evening to find a tailor 7 blocks from the hotel. The moment we stepped outside the hotel, we were targeted by beggars- women carrying babies, little barefoot children, crippled men on carts. At first, I was very nervous, having lived with the Gypsy beggars of Eastern Europe who would rob you blind if you let them. But I have to admit that these were the most polite beggars I'd ever encountered. After a quick no to their request for money, they would thank you and excuse themselves for bothering you. The sidewalk sellers were a little bit more aggressive, but having Orest around was an obstacle many of them couldn't surmount.
The other thing I noticed was the amount of stray dogs laying about in the street. And these weren't the feral strays that you'd encounter in Romania or Ukraina, where the threat of attack was always a possibility. These ones all seemed to be lethargically sprawled all over the sidewalk, with nary a care for the multitudes of people stepping over or around them. I almost felt like stepping on them to see if they would react - but luckily I'm not 6 years old anymore...

More to come in the next blog.

Career opportunities

I was putting Adriana to bed the other night and she announced that when she grows up, she wants to be a princess or a teacher.
I gently tried to break it to her: "Well, since you weren't born a princess, you'll have to marry a prince to become one."

She thought about it for only a moment and said:

"Ok, I'll just be a teacher." (I can't figure out what was less appealing; the marrying bit or the prince bit.)

Just as I was shutting the door to her room, I heard her add:

"Or a Dalmation..."

Aaaahhh, the dreams of childhood...too precious to burst their bubble.

Can I afford to be stupid?

In the last 4 days, I have lost 60 pounds (and I mean currency, not weight - I wish!) in total - and I can put it all down to my own stupidity. The first 40 pounds were lost in the form of a parking ticket. I wish I could say that the traffic control person was being an absolute dick, but the real reason was: just as I was getting out of the car, my mobile rang and I forgot that I needed to purchase a parking sticker for my car. Complete moron can't do two things at once!

The second happened so quickly I still have no ideahow. I'd made some DVD copies for a Mum at school and she handed me the 20 pound note just as I was waving off Adriana and Larysa to school. Somehow between school and my car I realized I was no longer in posession of said note!

The question is: can I afford this? I thought back to the days when Orest and I were first married and still using budgets (well actually Orest did the budgets - he just told me how much I could spend per week) 60 pounds would have been my entire week's supply. It probably doesn't help that I still convert to Canadian dollars every time I shell out for something over here - that's over 120 bucks!!

I'm very lucky that we aren't scrimping and saving as we were 20 years ago, cuz I'm getting stupider every day. (20 years from now I'll probably be losing 120 pounds every day because I can't keep my mind on the moolah.)

I did however feel obligated to try and retrieve at least the 20 I lost at the school by asking the school secretary to post something in the school newsletter to see if anyone would come forward and return it. Call it my social experiment of the month.

Burn Guy, burn!

Guy Fawkes night....what an interesting celebration. Bonfires with an effigy atop and fireworks to symbolize the gunpowder that could have lit up the Parliament if not stopped. A classic struggle between the Catholics and newly-formed Anglicans all wrapped up in tidy package of fun for all ages.
We had heard that in Chiddingfold, Surrey they have quite the massive parade, fair and bonfire, so we decided to organize and outing there in conjunction with the Ukrainian Scouts. We first arrived at the old folks home to prepare a bit of games and snacks for the kids and then took a walk down to the village once it got dark.
We arrived just in time to watch the procession of torch bearers (about 400 of them) walking down from the local St Mary's school. They all had to gather around the bonfire, which was stacked up in a teepee shape at least 30 feet high, with the hapless effigy of Guy tied to the top. Then the countdown began and they threw their torches into the collected wood in waves. I was amazed that no one was injured with the massive amounts of torches being chucked, but obviously these were experienced fire-throwers.
As the fire was burning the children got a little bored after the flames had completely consumed Guy, so we took a walk around the green and found that they had many stalls selling food as well as a small fair with rides for smaller children. The girls were most interested in the stall selling all things glowing, and of course we had to buy them each a set of fluffy bunny ears that light up. (what rabbits have to do with Bonfire night is anybody's guess...)
An hour later, they began the fireworks display. With the requisite oohs and aahs, we watched while Jessie cowered at our feet from the noise. After a very good lightshow, we trudged back up the hill where we had parked at the old folks home, had some hot chocolate and biscuits and then home. When we drove by the bonfire, it was still burning brightly, and it's been said that it usually stays lit til the following morning. Amazing!

(The photo above is Adia sitting on the shoulders of our friend Stepan - who did a good job of shouldering others in our party as well.)

Trying to keep Halloween alive!

It's been really weird trying to celebrate Halloween here in England. Over the past four years, the Brits have come along a bit in terms of understanding what it's all about (i.e. there's been a lot more to buy at the local shops), but there's still a lot of confusion around here over what and what not constitutes an All Hallows Eve fun night. So here are some basic tips to help you through the season:

1. You don't have to wear a scary costume! The little ones are already frightened enough as it is, without dressing them up as little Draculas or Elphabas. See my kids: I had SpongeBob, a dalmation and a nerdy geek this year (no, the little green man is not Orest). I still remember Larysa's first year at the school's Halloween disco, dressed as a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader, and having some kid come up to her and say: "I'm not afraid of you, you're not scary!" Yeah, duh! Missing the point.

2. Our neighbours around the corner came trick or treating and told me to send my kids around to them when they returned from their jaunts, only to find their house looking dark and with no pumpkin lit up out in front. We then realized that a lot of people here aren't up on pumpkin etiquette and the girls have missed out on a lot of candy over the years!

3. What is the big deal with jack o' lanterns anyway? I think a lot of people still have a fear of sticking their hands inside of juicy old gourd and ripping out the guts to then carve out a design on the outside. I still remember our first year here, trying to get a jack o' lantern contest going at the school, getting numerous phone calls from people who had never touched a pumpkin in their lives. I can't tell you how many times I had to explain the rudiments of pumpkin carving.

4. The amount of backlash I hear over here that this is an "American holiday, and why do they have to supply these little brats with a year's supply of candy anyway?" is quite astounding. Get a grip Gramps, this is not an American invasion of commercial crassness, it's just an opportunity for the kids to dress up and get a toothache all in one night. Besides, all that scary dressing up will come in handy for those vicar and tart parties of the future, won't it?