Saturday was almost entirely occupied by my graduation ceremony, which was complicated and rather exhausting but also fun and memorable. I was proud to be a part of it and now I really feel like an Oxford graduate. That's the nice thing about ceremonies.
The day started at 11:45 with the "signing of the graces" at my college. This mainly consisted of signing a list to show that I was present. If I had missed that step, I wouldn't be able to participate in the ceremony, although I would still receive my degree by mail. While we did this, the Dean of Degrees (whom I hadn't met before) gave us some general information about the ceremony. All this was accompanied by a drinks reception (well before noon) with the other graduates and their guests.
After I had dutifully signed the graces, David and I chatted with the parents of another graduate. They asked what I was doing after graduation, sounded interested in the answer, and wanted me to write down my website address for them. Hooray!
Then we had a free lunch (OK, OK, there's no such thing - it was included in my gazillion-dollar tuition), which was a formalish affair with three courses held in a closed-off section of the dining hall. The Senior Tutor said a few words about the joy and importance of the day, then we were served.
The food was quite good but the most memorable part was listening to the mother of an English graduate next to me talk about how much she loves the TV show "Heroes," which happens to be one of our favorites.
The lunch was over around 1:30, after which we were instructed to gather at the Sheldonian Theatre in downtown Oxford by 2:15 sharp. We had planned to walk downtown but it was really bloody cold, so we drove part way and then took a bus the rest of the way.
From the bus it was only a short walk down friendly old Broad Street, which happened to be hosting a French market.
A previous (summertime) photo of the Sheldonian. It's shaped like a half-circle (or more like half-oval) and was built in 1668 for the university.
Across from the Sheldonian Theatre, I made a mostly failed attempt to make my hair look less windblown in the warmth of Blackwell's bookshop. I've spent a lot of time and money in that shop over the last two years, and I felt quite sentimental about it as I left!
Then David and I went our separate ways. He found a seat inside the Sheldonian Theatre while I met my fellow graduates in the Divinity School, which is the prettiest room in the Bodleian Library. This wasn't related to my degree being in Theology - the Bodleian Library once housed the various faculties, so it also has a Philosophy School, Science School, etc. A bonus of the graduation experience is that I got to see a smaller back room of the Divinity School that I didn't even know existed. It was very beautiful, with dark wood stalls.
In the Divinity School
For the ceremony we were grouped by degree, then by college. There were about ten other graduates from my college, and just one other who was getting an MPhil. She was a very nice British girl (never got her name) whose degree was in Modern Middle East Studies. She also had intended to continue to the DPhil but decided not to, and wasn't sure what she was doing next.
None of us had any real idea of what was expected of us in the ceremony, and our Dean of Degrees had given us very little to go on. David felt quite sure she was drunk at the ceremony, but I think maybe that's just how she is. So most of my "instruction" for the ceremony consisted of rumor and hearsay with other graduates. "When do we bow again?" "I heard we have to say Do Fidem at some point." And so on. We did have a Degree Ceremony booklet, but I barely had a chance to flip through it. In the end, we just watched what other people did and attempted to follow suit.
The vast majority of there ceremony was in Latin, with a brief English introduction from the Vice-Chancellor about why Oxford preserves the traditional ceremony when many other universities have more informal, modern procedures. (The main reasons were respect for the graduates and tradition.)
Unfortunately David had no way of knowing which side of the theatre I would be seated in, and he ended up in the balcony directly above me, where we couldn't see each other. But he could see me during the important parts. So here's an overview in pictures.
Inside the Sheldonian Theatre, with steep balcony seating.
Seated graduates across the way from me, with some absent to do their part in the ceremony.
The first graduates to do their thing were the DPhils, then the master's degrees (MPhil and the shorter MSc), then the BPhils. The DPhils were done alarmingly fast, then it was our turn!
Here my college dean (with the red hood) is presenting me and the other MPhil to the Vice-Chancellor and Proctors. She does so in Latin, which she is reading from inside her hat!
Translated, she said, "Most Distinguished Vice-Chancellor [here we bow to him], and you, most excellent Proctors [here we bow to the left one then right one], I present to you these my scholars in the faculty of Arts, that they may be admitted to the Degree of Master of Philosophy." As we bow, the dignitaries in question doff their hats at us. Then we swear to be faithful to the University and its interests by saying Do fidem ("I swear") all together.
Then we left the building.
We walked back around to the Divinity School, where we exchanged our Advanced Student gowns for our Master's gowns and blue hood. (As everyone does, I had rented the new gown from college earlier that day.) This gown was much heavier and nicer, and had embroidery on the sleeves.
It's a good thing it was a more substantial gown, as we then had to wait out in the cold between the Divinity School and Sheldonian Theatre until it was our turn to walk back in. It seemed like a long time as it was very, very cold. Two goofy American guys next to me passed the time by talking about wearing their gown everyday from now on, especially for grocery shopping and when the UPS man comes.
Finally, we made our triumphant return as Masters of Philosophy. We approached the Vice-Chancellor in rows of four and bowed, while everyone applauded for us. Then we left the building again - all done!
On our way back to the car we explored the Christmas market a little more, which was now beautifully draped with Christmas lights, and bought a cheap suitcase to help us pack the car more efficiently. We were both exhausted when we returned to the hotel, but it was a good day! I'm very pleased to be an Oxford graduate, and also to never have to wear sub fusc again.
Journey to Belgium
This morning we attempted for the first time to put all of our stuff into our little car. It was no mean feat, and was accomplished almost entirely by the physical and mental dexterity of David. It was a very, very tight fit and we sometimes wondered if the doors might suddenly pop open as we drove down the road. But happily, we made it all the way with no incidents.
It took about two hours to drive to our ferry port at Dover on the southeast coast. We liked the looks of Dover. It didn't have much ambience, being a huge port, but in addition to its famous white cliffs it has a big castle and church on a big hill overlooking the sea, plus signs pointing to a "Bronze Age Boat" and "Roman Painted House." We hope to have more time to visit when we come back to London to meet Ron.
As I write this I still feel like I'm on the ferry boat - the floor seems to be moving and I honestly haven't had anything to drink! It only started after I rode the elevator up after dinner, which is interesting. But neither of us felt sick on the ferry, despite the fact the Channel was very choppy.
The boat was the nicest one we've been on, and not very full at all. It was with a smallish company called Norfolk Line, which sails only from Dover to Dunkerque (France). Dunkerque is much smaller and less busy than nearby Calais, and more handy for our Belgian destination. It took just under two hours. Highly recommended, should you ever find yourself crossing the Channel and then heading east.
Waiting at the Dover port. The "GB" magnet is a new addition. It's required to drive a UK car in the Continent. It warns other drivers that our steering wheel is on the wrong side and we might be inclined to drive on the left!
Docked at Dover
Leaving the UK behind! Quite sad.
The White Cliffs of Dover
Kids of all ages watch the docking procedure at Dunkerque with interest.
Then we returned to our cars and the real adventure began. David now had to remember to drive on the right side of the road, with the steering wheel on the wrong side and a fully-stuffed car, through an unknown foreign country in the dark. But he did a marvelous job.
Navigating roundabouts was especially confusing at first, since we now drive them counter-clockwise instead of clockwise, and it took a moment to remember which side was the fast lane on the freeway. David said having the steering wheel on the wrong side was the hardest part, as he felt neither like he was in the UK nor in Europe. When he has a proper car, he's been able to adapt almost effortlessly to the other side.
So we will probably keep driving to a minimum until we get a European car, although David pretty much has it down now so he may well decide otherwise. In any case, tomorrow all we have to do is get to the center of Brugge.
Goede avond from Brugge! That's good evening in Dutch - we are in the Dutch-speaking northern part of Belgium (the southern half is French-speaking). We are absolutely thrilled to be on the Continent and beginning the next phase of our adventures.
We also so happy to be in the same place for the next six nights with no major plans. Our hotel suits our needs perfectly - it's a business hotel, so it may not have Old World "character" but the room is big enough to hold all our luggage and it has free, fast wireless internet! Hooray! And we got a great deal on the room through Hotels.com because we are staying so long.
Our home for the next six nights - the Apollo Arthotel Brugge.
The hotel is over a mile outside the city and we didn't arrive until about 6pm, so we're not doing any exploring tonight. After unloading our car (no small job), we had a delicious fish dinner in the hotel restaurant. We never really suffered from the famed bad food of the UK, but I think we are going to eat very well in Europe!
We are really looking forward to exploring Bruges tomorrow, which is said to be one of the prettiest in these parts. It also means going back to "work," as there are a lot of churches to photograph!
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