Maybe a bit longer...

Dear Friends and Family (and people who read this blog),

Once again, my absence from the online world doesn't mean I am absent of thought while in England; to the contrary, it tends to be the case that I am too busy running around to keep an up-to-date diary about my adventures. Today marks the 1-week anniversary of my sojourn across the "pond", and I'll relate the changes that have taken place.

I arrived last Friday at Manchester's airport. After a grueling trek to the bus depot, carrying a massively full suitcase, instrument, and backpack, and after an equally grueling bus ride (in access of 1 hour), and after a shorter trek, I ended in the hostel.

When I visited Manchester last November, I stayed at the Hatter's. It's located in the Northern Quarter, which is sort of like the Chelsea part of NYC; artsy people creating their fashions in post-industrial warehouses. The hostel isn't the cleanest, but there is free toast and tea, and everyone you meet will want to talk with you. During my stay, I happened to meet people from Canada, Alaska, Mexico, France, Germany, Italy, Australia, Turkey, and Kenya. Many were students looking for housing, and most would disappear within the week (which was a good idea because Wednesday night was a large football match between United and the Celtics, so the hostels and hotels were over-booked with fans), and e-mails and phone numbers were exchanged.

After a slew of online searches (and several visits), I was finally able to pin down a house-share. It's about 15 minutes from school (although a bus runs down my street), and is across from a park. The room has more furniture than I am used to, and the closet is so shallow my shirts have to tilt against each other, but I imagine the elbow grease I intend to use will help its condition. The furniture that was provided includes a bed, chest of drawers, a vanity, a sink, two portable pantries, a fridge, a space heater designed like a radiator, and a bookcase. "When you need electricity" my landlady said, "just put a coin in this machine and turn the lever. The coin will fall right through and you can continue to use it".

I'll leave that last part to your thoughts.

I'm still debating about how much cultural difference exists here. Perhaps I have been enveloped in my own world too much, or perhaps my definition of culture is too out of the mainstream. What has intrigued me, though, is the ingenuity of design here. Manchester, like all industrial cities, has shown urban decline, poverty, and crime over the past 20 years. However, the city seems to have an enthusiastic spirit. There was an IRA bombing in the mid-90's that changed the city. There has been great care recently in urban planning (a student at the hostel was entering this field for his Master's at Manchester Uni), particularly with the development of the Arndale shopping centre (It is fascinating to see areas of a town that have streets which are closed off to vehicles), and Deansgate (where stores have been built underneath the arches of the railway; extremely impressive).

Expect posts on a more regular basis, as I am near an inexpensive internet cafe. Until then, pleasant dreams.

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