Oxford does not have Fall, Winter, and Spring terms. Instead they have Michaelmas, Hilary, and Trinity, named after religious holidays that occur during these periods. Each of these terms is a mere eight weeks long. This feels very short for an academic term, but I like the idea of eight weeks of hard work, followed by very long breaks for productive gallivanting at conferences. The term isn’t quite a sprint from start to finish, but it is very intense, and it is a far cry from the four month semester marathon that many schools have (I don’t know how anyone survives that).
So tomorrow marks the end of Hilary term. Assuming I don’t get hit by a bus, I can declare victory – I have officially survived my first term!
This week everyone has been asking me “So how did you do for your first term?” All told, I think I’ve done ok. Better than I expected, as I was mentally preparing myself for complete chaos. By mid-term, I felt like I had found a good stride, and I’ve been fairly comfortable (albeit very busy) since then. At any rate, I had no major disasters, so that is enough to declare my first term a big success. Of course, I could have used a bit more sleep here and there, and perhaps I could have used a bit more time to unpack all those boxes that are still sitting in my guest room. And I certainly would not recommend starting a term with scarlet fever. But in summary, with one term finished, I’m really enjoying this (Yes, I do miss all my friends and family back home … but that just means you all have to come and visit me! [I even have hand-soap] ).
Bright and early saturday morning I hop on a plane and I’m back to the US of A for the term break. I’ll be in exciting Pittsburgh at the annual meeting of the American Physical Society (the world’s largest meeting of physicists each year – about 6000 of us) then on to Santa Barbara for three weeks of conferencing at the Kavli Center, a quick stop on the east coast, then back to Oxford to start Trinity term – and so it goes.
Let the reverse culture shock begin!
Showing posts with label Moving to UK. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Moving to UK. Show all posts
On of the funniest cartoons ever made is a Far-Side cartoon by Gary Larson where the sign outside the building says “Midvale school for the gifted” and the sign on the door says pull, but the kid in the cartoon is pushing on the door. (You can see the cartoon here at this time, but I’m pretty sure this picture won’t stay up long. Larson has been pretty strict about going around the web and making sure that his cartoons are not illegally posted like this one).
In the United States, in any public building, the doors open outwards. I think this is a law – the idea being that in the case of an emergency where everyone runs for the door at the same time, the first person won’t get smashed into the door and be unable to open an inwards-opening door. Without even realizing it though, one gets very used to pushing on doors when you are leaving a building and pulling on doors when you are going into buildings.
In the UK, there is no such law dictating which way doors should open. (Why?, I don't know, it seems like it would be a good idea). Doors open in or out seemingly randomly. I find myself constantly pushing on pull doors and pulling on push doors. It is so strongly ingrained that you should pull on a door going into a building, that I will still sit there yanking and yanking on the door when it obviously is not going to budge in that direction. Last week I even buzzed the receptionist in one building and she yelled back “PUSH”. Oops. Every time this happens I think “Midvale School for the Gifted”.
A similar gut reaction is which way to look when crossing a street. Fortunately, I don't have to cross many streets on my way to work.
In the United States, in any public building, the doors open outwards. I think this is a law – the idea being that in the case of an emergency where everyone runs for the door at the same time, the first person won’t get smashed into the door and be unable to open an inwards-opening door. Without even realizing it though, one gets very used to pushing on doors when you are leaving a building and pulling on doors when you are going into buildings.
In the UK, there is no such law dictating which way doors should open. (Why?, I don't know, it seems like it would be a good idea). Doors open in or out seemingly randomly. I find myself constantly pushing on pull doors and pulling on push doors. It is so strongly ingrained that you should pull on a door going into a building, that I will still sit there yanking and yanking on the door when it obviously is not going to budge in that direction. Last week I even buzzed the receptionist in one building and she yelled back “PUSH”. Oops. Every time this happens I think “Midvale School for the Gifted”.
A similar gut reaction is which way to look when crossing a street. Fortunately, I don't have to cross many streets on my way to work.
Today is VG day: Victory over garbage. Since moving in, I’ve had this problem that every time I leave trash outside for the trash collectors, they somehow ignore it. I asked around and people told me that I have to be careful what kind of trash I leave out on what days. Recycling is big here, so there is the blue bin, the green bin, the big green bin, and the large dark green trash can. “So how do I know which day to leave which trash?” The response was “oh, just google it”. Well, this is not as easy as it sounds. It took me several days to figure out that I had to google “Waste” not “Trash” or “Garbage”. Finally, I got the list of what goes in which bin, and which days they collect which type of “waste”. Unfortunately, the schedule I looked at was apparently outdated, so my attempts to get rid of my waste continued to fail. Finally, I just started peeking in my neighbor’s trash – and today, with great fanfare and angels blowing trumpets, they took some of it away. So I think I now know the scheme. About time – it was really starting to pile up in here.
The Bed: One of the first things I did when moving to the UK was to go and buy a decent bed. Even though I had scarlet fever at the time, the first weekend I was here, I still schlepped out to a local bed store (called “Dreams”) and bought one. Much to my dismay, it took three weeks to have the thing delivered. In the meantime I’ve been sleeping on little more than an army cot. Finally today the bed was delivered – in a bunch of pieces. I admit that I was a bit out of it when I bought the thing (my excuse also for buying a truly ugly bed) but I’m pretty sure no one ever told me that it was an assemble yourself kind of thing. Nonetheless, I’m usually pretty brave with this self-assembly stuff, so I started putting it together. After about three hours, I finally called their customer service line and yelled at them. They concluded that this particular bed is defective (there is no slot B to screw into tab A) and they will have to replace it. I’ll keep you updated. Fortunately, the mattress appears to work. I’ll report back after sleeping on it for a night – I can’t imagine it will be worse than the army cot.
Added: After one night sleep on the mattress, I'm debating whether it is too soft. (Although I actually tried to buy the firmest mattress available).
The Bed: One of the first things I did when moving to the UK was to go and buy a decent bed. Even though I had scarlet fever at the time, the first weekend I was here, I still schlepped out to a local bed store (called “Dreams”) and bought one. Much to my dismay, it took three weeks to have the thing delivered. In the meantime I’ve been sleeping on little more than an army cot. Finally today the bed was delivered – in a bunch of pieces. I admit that I was a bit out of it when I bought the thing (my excuse also for buying a truly ugly bed) but I’m pretty sure no one ever told me that it was an assemble yourself kind of thing. Nonetheless, I’m usually pretty brave with this self-assembly stuff, so I started putting it together. After about three hours, I finally called their customer service line and yelled at them. They concluded that this particular bed is defective (there is no slot B to screw into tab A) and they will have to replace it. I’ll keep you updated. Fortunately, the mattress appears to work. I’ll report back after sleeping on it for a night – I can’t imagine it will be worse than the army cot.
Added: After one night sleep on the mattress, I'm debating whether it is too soft. (Although I actually tried to buy the firmest mattress available).
The British college education system is quite different from that in the United States. First of all, you go to college to study only one topic (or “Read” the topic, as they say here). So, upon leaving high school, a student will apply to Oxford to Read Physics, and then when they get here, it is all Physics all the time for the length of their college career. Liberal Arts does not really exist over here (or in most of Europe for that matter). On the one hand, it risks developing people who are very one-sided. On the other hand, students coming out of this system can be extremely well prepared in their chosen subject.
The second difference is in how students are examined. As far as I can tell there are only two examinations in the entire student’s career. One exam, the “prelim”, at the end of the first year. This is basically a chance to fail out if you are really doing badly (very very few fail). It also stratifies the class a bit into those who are doing well and those who are not. In the case of physics, there is a three year degree and a four year degree, and if you do badly on the prelim, you can’t get the four year degree. The only other exam you have is the final exam at the end of your career. And that’s all. Of course, having only two exams means that some students can procrastinate learning for years – but most actually do try very hard to keep up – or at least the physics students do. These exams are not written by the people who taught the courses, but rather are put together by an exam committee to test what is supposed to be on the curriculum (which is decided by a curriculum committee). Apparently being on either of these committees is something to be avoided, as they inevitably result in fights.
The third difference is in how the classes are actually taught. There is one person who gives lectures to the entire class of 180 first year physics students. However much of the teaching is actually done by the tutor. Homeworks are assigned and graded by tutors, as well as mock exams (known as “collections”) – and the tutors may or may not be in sync with what the lecturer is doing. Both the tutors and the lecturers are both trying to teach the curriculum (and prepare the student for the real exam) but they are free to do so in different ways. In physics students typically meet with their tutors in a two-on-one setting roughly for an hour every other week per course. This adds up to a whole lot of individual contact with faculty.
Fourth, the terms here are extremely short (two eight week terms and one ~six week term per year), and then there are very long breaks between terms (during which the students are supposed to be studying too). As a result of the very short terms, things get very intense while the terms are in session, and then everyone recovers in the break and prepares for the next term.
We can have a debate about whether the Oxbridge system is better or worse than the American system, but the truth is that I suspect it really depends on the particular student.
This year, I’m doing tutorials for three courses, and I’m not lecturing at all. I have six students I tutor in first year electricity and magnetism, eight in second year statistical physics, and five in third year solid state physics. Truth be told, this is pretty hard work for me right now. ( I had this panic before I got here that the E+M course looked pretty hard – but in fact, it turned out I was looking at the wrong course – and the E+M course is pretty similar to what first or second year physics students get in the US.). I’m sure once I’ve gone through the curriculum once, I’ll find this much easier. Right now, trying to figure out what problems to assign my students is pretty time consuming. Then of course, I have to actually solve the problems myself to make sure they are all actually solvable. Plus of course grading homework, figuring out what students are having trouble with, and preparing for, and doing the tutorials. I’m sure next year, it will be much easier (I’ll already know which problems are good to assign, and I’ll know what students are going to have trouble with.) But for now, it is a lot of work. And it is kind of emotionally draining. The students are counting on the tutors to prepare them for the exams – and (at least most of them) are trying very hard to do well – so I feel I should try equally hard to help them.
I have the distinct feeling I am going to be completely exhausted before the end of my first term.
This is my excuse for not having posted anything all week.
Update: I was corrected by some of my students, they do take a final exam at the end of the second year as well, and it counts something like 20% of their final grade at the end of the degree.
The second difference is in how students are examined. As far as I can tell there are only two examinations in the entire student’s career. One exam, the “prelim”, at the end of the first year. This is basically a chance to fail out if you are really doing badly (very very few fail). It also stratifies the class a bit into those who are doing well and those who are not. In the case of physics, there is a three year degree and a four year degree, and if you do badly on the prelim, you can’t get the four year degree. The only other exam you have is the final exam at the end of your career. And that’s all. Of course, having only two exams means that some students can procrastinate learning for years – but most actually do try very hard to keep up – or at least the physics students do. These exams are not written by the people who taught the courses, but rather are put together by an exam committee to test what is supposed to be on the curriculum (which is decided by a curriculum committee). Apparently being on either of these committees is something to be avoided, as they inevitably result in fights.
The third difference is in how the classes are actually taught. There is one person who gives lectures to the entire class of 180 first year physics students. However much of the teaching is actually done by the tutor. Homeworks are assigned and graded by tutors, as well as mock exams (known as “collections”) – and the tutors may or may not be in sync with what the lecturer is doing. Both the tutors and the lecturers are both trying to teach the curriculum (and prepare the student for the real exam) but they are free to do so in different ways. In physics students typically meet with their tutors in a two-on-one setting roughly for an hour every other week per course. This adds up to a whole lot of individual contact with faculty.
Fourth, the terms here are extremely short (two eight week terms and one ~six week term per year), and then there are very long breaks between terms (during which the students are supposed to be studying too). As a result of the very short terms, things get very intense while the terms are in session, and then everyone recovers in the break and prepares for the next term.
We can have a debate about whether the Oxbridge system is better or worse than the American system, but the truth is that I suspect it really depends on the particular student.
This year, I’m doing tutorials for three courses, and I’m not lecturing at all. I have six students I tutor in first year electricity and magnetism, eight in second year statistical physics, and five in third year solid state physics. Truth be told, this is pretty hard work for me right now. ( I had this panic before I got here that the E+M course looked pretty hard – but in fact, it turned out I was looking at the wrong course – and the E+M course is pretty similar to what first or second year physics students get in the US.). I’m sure once I’ve gone through the curriculum once, I’ll find this much easier. Right now, trying to figure out what problems to assign my students is pretty time consuming. Then of course, I have to actually solve the problems myself to make sure they are all actually solvable. Plus of course grading homework, figuring out what students are having trouble with, and preparing for, and doing the tutorials. I’m sure next year, it will be much easier (I’ll already know which problems are good to assign, and I’ll know what students are going to have trouble with.) But for now, it is a lot of work. And it is kind of emotionally draining. The students are counting on the tutors to prepare them for the exams – and (at least most of them) are trying very hard to do well – so I feel I should try equally hard to help them.
I have the distinct feeling I am going to be completely exhausted before the end of my first term.
This is my excuse for not having posted anything all week.
Update: I was corrected by some of my students, they do take a final exam at the end of the second year as well, and it counts something like 20% of their final grade at the end of the degree.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Welcome to England - Avoid the Germs
Labels:
General Nonsense,
Moving to UK
I’m not sure if it is completely fair to blame Air India for this, but being that they charged me 243$ extra for four small suitcases, I think they probably could afford to install some better disinfectant system. I had the feeling that I was travelling on a giant petri dish, and one week later I discover I was right.
So I step off the air india flight to the UK last Monday morning at 6am and by 5 pm Thursday I have strep throat. I don’t think I’ve had strep since I was in high school, so I thought it was the flu at first. In particular, I failed to remember the other main symptom besides the high fever and the wicked sore throat: the rash. Woo boy. I look like I got massively sunburned 360 degrees around from knees to shoulders, like a lobster. And it itches like the bejesus. So this delightful little welcome wagon will give me my first experience with the British health care system. Unfortunately, to complicate my life it turns out that I do not yet have a national insurance number (there was some snafu and the paperwork was delayed). Nonetheless, I now need to convince someone to give me some damn penicillin. Although right now I think I would settle for some hydrocortisone to get rid of this nasty rash. I’ll keep you updated.
First update: Walked into the local health clinic with no identification whatsoever, explained my story and they happily gave me an appointment for later this afternoon.
Second update: The doctor apologized for being 10 minutes late at the end of the day and then spent over half an hour examining me. Not that I was unhappy with my doctor in NY but to get his full attention for half an hour would probably have required four visits. He concluded that it looked like a strep infection of some sort - but not the typical strep throat. More likely scarlet fever. Prescribed penicillin to kill the strep, and zantac zirtek and a large bottle of calamine for the rash. Doctor's visit was free. Drugs totaled something like 15 GBP. So far I'm thrilled with the british health care system.
Third update: After 36 hours on the drugs, the fever is certainly gone and even the persistent painful rash seems to be fading a bit. I can even stand up and sit down without wincing (Note to self: never get a sunburn on rear). Thank god for penicillin. Thank Alexander Fleming.
So I step off the air india flight to the UK last Monday morning at 6am and by 5 pm Thursday I have strep throat. I don’t think I’ve had strep since I was in high school, so I thought it was the flu at first. In particular, I failed to remember the other main symptom besides the high fever and the wicked sore throat: the rash. Woo boy. I look like I got massively sunburned 360 degrees around from knees to shoulders, like a lobster. And it itches like the bejesus. So this delightful little welcome wagon will give me my first experience with the British health care system. Unfortunately, to complicate my life it turns out that I do not yet have a national insurance number (there was some snafu and the paperwork was delayed). Nonetheless, I now need to convince someone to give me some damn penicillin. Although right now I think I would settle for some hydrocortisone to get rid of this nasty rash. I’ll keep you updated.
First update: Walked into the local health clinic with no identification whatsoever, explained my story and they happily gave me an appointment for later this afternoon.
Second update: The doctor apologized for being 10 minutes late at the end of the day and then spent over half an hour examining me. Not that I was unhappy with my doctor in NY but to get his full attention for half an hour would probably have required four visits. He concluded that it looked like a strep infection of some sort - but not the typical strep throat. More likely scarlet fever. Prescribed penicillin to kill the strep, and
Third update: After 36 hours on the drugs, the fever is certainly gone and even the persistent painful rash seems to be fading a bit. I can even stand up and sit down without wincing (Note to self: never get a sunburn on rear). Thank god for penicillin. Thank Alexander Fleming.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The first necessity upon arriving in the UK
Labels:
General Nonsense,
Moving to UK
You might think it is strange that my first blog entry from the UK is going to start with food, which the British are not particularly known for. However, eating is one of the necessities and I think it is generally a good idea to iron these out first.
I arrived in the UK two days ago and since then most of my time has been spent meeting people, running errands, and cutting through red tape. Of course I have learned many many things so far -- mostly things like who is in charge of getting me registered for national health insurance and other necessary but boring facts. However, in addition to these boring things (and a few interesting things about physics) a rather large number of the random things I have learned have to do with food.
(1) There is some automated web-based system that tells you everything you need to know about dining at the college. To have either lunch or dinner you click something and they know to expect you. The same web site apparently lists a bunch of other information and rules about dining. Unfortunately, I don't have a login yet, so I am breaking all the rules and everyone is too polite to correct me (to begin with I am showing up without having clicked on the website)
(2) Daytime feeding time at Somerville College Oxford is roughly 1 pm. Fellows (professors, readers, lectures) and other important personage sit at the high table in the dining hall. The table is filled from right to left as people arrive. But when the Principal of Somerville College, Dame Fiona, arrives, she sits at the middle of table in a larger chair reminiscent of royalty. At this point the rules change and you are supposed to sit with Dame Fiona and seat outwards from there.
(3) The food at the college, so far, is pretty good. I already feel I am at risk of being the oldest person ever to put on the freshman 15. Desserts appear to be particularly dangerous. Fortunately, I had my cholesterol checked recently and it seems to be very good so I can afford a bit of British cooking. Then again, cholesterol or no, I'd like to avoid getting any doughier than I already am (My brother would tell me to go to the gym and lift weights. Got to figure out where the gym is. Then I've got to start going.)
(4) Dinner is not served this week (the term has not started), so I've been fending for myself. Found a decent bagel with salmon and cream cheese for dinner... and tea… speaking of which…
(5) Tea and coffee for fellows of the college (faculty etc) are served in the "senior common room" after lunch. This reminds me a bit of the "staff porch" we had in summer camp years and years ago -- although it is decorated a bit more like you would expect of Oxford: bookshelves of ancient books. Big plush victorian couches, chairs, and rugs. Paintings of long-since dead faculty and donors. And the motto is posted in latin, so I have no idea what it says.
(6) Tea in the theoretical physics building is served at 11 am in the discussion room. A mug of tea is 30 pence and a hobnob cookie is 5 pence. Coffee is more expensive, but appears to be the good kind. I think there is also tea served in the neighboring physics building in the afternoon. And of course there is tea in the senior common room of the college again at 4pm. I suspect I could easily fill an entire day going from one tea to another, then to elevensies, then to lunch, then tea, then..., then... I'll have to try that sometime just to see if it is really possible.
I arrived in the UK two days ago and since then most of my time has been spent meeting people, running errands, and cutting through red tape. Of course I have learned many many things so far -- mostly things like who is in charge of getting me registered for national health insurance and other necessary but boring facts. However, in addition to these boring things (and a few interesting things about physics) a rather large number of the random things I have learned have to do with food.
(1) There is some automated web-based system that tells you everything you need to know about dining at the college. To have either lunch or dinner you click something and they know to expect you. The same web site apparently lists a bunch of other information and rules about dining. Unfortunately, I don't have a login yet, so I am breaking all the rules and everyone is too polite to correct me (to begin with I am showing up without having clicked on the website)
(2) Daytime feeding time at Somerville College Oxford is roughly 1 pm. Fellows (professors, readers, lectures) and other important personage sit at the high table in the dining hall. The table is filled from right to left as people arrive. But when the Principal of Somerville College, Dame Fiona, arrives, she sits at the middle of table in a larger chair reminiscent of royalty. At this point the rules change and you are supposed to sit with Dame Fiona and seat outwards from there.
(3) The food at the college, so far, is pretty good. I already feel I am at risk of being the oldest person ever to put on the freshman 15. Desserts appear to be particularly dangerous. Fortunately, I had my cholesterol checked recently and it seems to be very good so I can afford a bit of British cooking. Then again, cholesterol or no, I'd like to avoid getting any doughier than I already am (My brother would tell me to go to the gym and lift weights. Got to figure out where the gym is. Then I've got to start going.)
(4) Dinner is not served this week (the term has not started), so I've been fending for myself. Found a decent bagel with salmon and cream cheese for dinner... and tea… speaking of which…
(5) Tea and coffee for fellows of the college (faculty etc) are served in the "senior common room" after lunch. This reminds me a bit of the "staff porch" we had in summer camp years and years ago -- although it is decorated a bit more like you would expect of Oxford: bookshelves of ancient books. Big plush victorian couches, chairs, and rugs. Paintings of long-since dead faculty and donors. And the motto is posted in latin, so I have no idea what it says.
(6) Tea in the theoretical physics building is served at 11 am in the discussion room. A mug of tea is 30 pence and a hobnob cookie is 5 pence. Coffee is more expensive, but appears to be the good kind. I think there is also tea served in the neighboring physics building in the afternoon. And of course there is tea in the senior common room of the college again at 4pm. I suspect I could easily fill an entire day going from one tea to another, then to elevensies, then to lunch, then tea, then..., then... I'll have to try that sometime just to see if it is really possible.
I'm feeling a bit verklempt about having sold my beloved honda civic, Betty. The guy who bought her (a young jewish guy named Oren from Long Island) seemed really nice and he was SO excited to find a 4DR standard transmission civic.
I bought Betty new, for a bit under 14,000$ in August of 1997 when I first moved to Hoboken. I didn't know how to drive standard transmission at the time, so the first few weeks were a bit rough. But she was patient with me, and within a few thousand miles we were getting along great. I really enjoyed my time alone with her --- driving to and from work was a time to prepare for the day, or recover from it. When she was feeling feisty we tried to set new speed records (23 minutes. I bet you can't beat that in a Porche!). On the weekends, she survived many a road trip, and she dutifully carried heaps of windsurfing equipment on her roof and in her trunk, and she never complained.
The most amazing thing about Betty was how reliable she was. Even after 175,000 miles, really nothing had gone ever wrong with her. Two flat tires, occassional new muffler, and two broken windshields from rocks being thrown up at me by trucks, but nothing worse than that. It is hard for me to even imagine that I will ever have another car as great as Betty.
I almost cried when I handed over the keys.
I bought Betty new, for a bit under 14,000$ in August of 1997 when I first moved to Hoboken. I didn't know how to drive standard transmission at the time, so the first few weeks were a bit rough. But she was patient with me, and within a few thousand miles we were getting along great. I really enjoyed my time alone with her --- driving to and from work was a time to prepare for the day, or recover from it. When she was feeling feisty we tried to set new speed records (23 minutes. I bet you can't beat that in a Porche!). On the weekends, she survived many a road trip, and she dutifully carried heaps of windsurfing equipment on her roof and in her trunk, and she never complained.
The most amazing thing about Betty was how reliable she was. Even after 175,000 miles, really nothing had gone ever wrong with her. Two flat tires, occassional new muffler, and two broken windshields from rocks being thrown up at me by trucks, but nothing worse than that. It is hard for me to even imagine that I will ever have another car as great as Betty.
I almost cried when I handed over the keys.
I have an rather imposingly long list of things I need to do before I move to England. One by one they are being checked off, but still I think there is going to be a whole lot of last minute scrambling.
Visa Woes
My friends from other countries, particularly those without green cards, are always bemoaning the complications of getting their visa in order. Now I know what they feel like. The UK is cracking down a bit on immigration and as a result the process for getting a work visa has become pretty darn complicated -- including various types of biometric scans. Starting this month it is even more complicated as they are instituting some sort of foreigner id card Nonetheless, I did manage to get my work visa... but the process makes me feel like i had best stay out of trouble once I get there lest it gets revoked and I have to go through the process all over (maybe that is the point).
Medical
Being that I have no idea what the British health care system is like I've decided to go get a whole lot of tests done here while I still have good old american expensive insurance. So last week I went to the doctor, got a couple of vaccinations, had some tests done and the doctor reported that I'm in fine shape (apparently he didn't see me sucking wind while trying to get back into running this summer). Fortunately, my cholesterol is extremely low, so I can go to the UK and eat all the artery-clogging food with reckless abandon. The visits to the dentist were a bit less perfect. I've got to have a few minor things done in the next month which, no doubt, will be exceedingly unpleasant.
My Apartment
Before the economic meltdown I thought that I might be able to sell my apartment in Hoboken for a nice penny. That was then, this is now. So I'm going to try to rent it for a while. But before that happens there are a whole lot of things in the apartment that need to be fixed. The windows leak like a sieve and need to be replaced. The shower leaks on the poor guy downstairs and needs to be patched. The hot water heater works only sporadically. And much of the apartment needs to be repainted after the apartment above me flooded on me. All this needs to be done in the next four weeks. ... and of course I need to rent the thing. Wish me luck.
Finding an Apartment
Visa Woes
My friends from other countries, particularly those without green cards, are always bemoaning the complications of getting their visa in order. Now I know what they feel like. The UK is cracking down a bit on immigration and as a result the process for getting a work visa has become pretty darn complicated -- including various types of biometric scans. Starting this month it is even more complicated as they are instituting some sort of foreigner id card Nonetheless, I did manage to get my work visa... but the process makes me feel like i had best stay out of trouble once I get there lest it gets revoked and I have to go through the process all over (maybe that is the point).
Medical
Being that I have no idea what the British health care system is like I've decided to go get a whole lot of tests done here while I still have good old american expensive insurance. So last week I went to the doctor, got a couple of vaccinations, had some tests done and the doctor reported that I'm in fine shape (apparently he didn't see me sucking wind while trying to get back into running this summer). Fortunately, my cholesterol is extremely low, so I can go to the UK and eat all the artery-clogging food with reckless abandon. The visits to the dentist were a bit less perfect. I've got to have a few minor things done in the next month which, no doubt, will be exceedingly unpleasant.
My Apartment
Before the economic meltdown I thought that I might be able to sell my apartment in Hoboken for a nice penny. That was then, this is now. So I'm going to try to rent it for a while. But before that happens there are a whole lot of things in the apartment that need to be fixed. The windows leak like a sieve and need to be replaced. The shower leaks on the poor guy downstairs and needs to be patched. The hot water heater works only sporadically. And much of the apartment needs to be repainted after the apartment above me flooded on me. All this needs to be done in the next four weeks. ... and of course I need to rent the thing. Wish me luck.
Finding an Apartment
Real estate in Oxford is like real estate in NY or the bay area -- insanely expensive unless you like living in a shoebox. Fortunately, Oxford owns some properties that it is willing to rent to its faculty for reasonable rates. The place I will be staying (on Canal Street in the Jericho neighborhood of Oxford) is fine as far as having enough floor space. And it is very convenient to the Theoretical Physics department (on Keble Road) and to Somerville College (on Woodstock Road). Unfortunately, the plan for building this apartment appears to have been to keep adding walls until they had twice as many rooms as you need, each with half the space that you would like. Not sure what I am going to do with all the small rooms. I guess one advantage of having extra rooms is that there will be space for friends to come visit me (hint hint).
Moving
Oxford uses only one moving company, and they have been a bit reticent about giving me all the details -- like cost breakdown, and how long the move is going to take. I gather however that when it comes to moving they are efficient like locusts... they enter the apartment and an hour later the apartment is completely empty. I'm not sure they are playing with a completely full deck though. Oxford graciously agreed to pay moving costs up to 6,000 GBP. (These days 1.5 $ =1 GBP) . The estimate for moving costs was 5,945 GBP. Coincidence? Perhaps.
Cleaning out the junk
Before the movers arrive I'd really like to get some of the junk out of my apartment. I've managed to take a bunch of boxes of stuff up to my parents home in Rochester (things they claimed to have use for -- except maybe the toaster. Not sure why that was included). Then another bunch of stuff was taken to the Salvation Army for donation. About a hundred pounds of books went to the nice people at the local used book store. Some random stuff of dubious value will go to friends who speak up at the right moment. Anyone want a nice desk lamp?
Betty
Perhaps the only possession to which I am emotionally attached these days is Betty, my 1997 Honda Civic. 170,000 miles and never had any substantial problems. I'm really going to miss her. I'm hoping a friend will buy her so I can get visitation rights.
Moving
Oxford uses only one moving company, and they have been a bit reticent about giving me all the details -- like cost breakdown, and how long the move is going to take. I gather however that when it comes to moving they are efficient like locusts... they enter the apartment and an hour later the apartment is completely empty. I'm not sure they are playing with a completely full deck though. Oxford graciously agreed to pay moving costs up to 6,000 GBP. (These days 1.5 $ =1 GBP) . The estimate for moving costs was 5,945 GBP. Coincidence? Perhaps.
Cleaning out the junk
Before the movers arrive I'd really like to get some of the junk out of my apartment. I've managed to take a bunch of boxes of stuff up to my parents home in Rochester (things they claimed to have use for -- except maybe the toaster. Not sure why that was included). Then another bunch of stuff was taken to the Salvation Army for donation. About a hundred pounds of books went to the nice people at the local used book store. Some random stuff of dubious value will go to friends who speak up at the right moment. Anyone want a nice desk lamp?
Betty
Perhaps the only possession to which I am emotionally attached these days is Betty, my 1997 Honda Civic. 170,000 miles and never had any substantial problems. I'm really going to miss her. I'm hoping a friend will buy her so I can get visitation rights.
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