It's 'Presidents Day' on Monday 17th February which in the US is the
equivalent of what we would call a 'bank holiday' (such an unimaginative
name). Whenever a public holiday falls on a Monday, the US
Navy tries to come up with some excuse to give the previous Friday off too,
making a four day weekend for everyone. This year our Admiral came up with
something quite ingenious. Because this winter has been so mild, we haven't had
any bad snow days off - just one afternoon, earlier this week in fact - so he
reckoned we were owed some off-time in lieu.
What he didn't know was that next
week, there's a snow-storm coming ! Actually it doesn't seem so bad, now. Everyone here says that its been an extremely mild winter so far and dramatic snow pictures are actually coming from home rather than here. Philippa sent me a picture of a rare snow roller photographed in a field near Marlborough recently. Certainly nothing like that has happened in Newport.
But for
me ithe long weekend was ideal, an opportunity to do all those things I've been putting off
because of more pressing academic preoccupations, like registering with a local
doctor and dentist, finding an accountant capable of dealing with really quite
complicated tax affairs, registering with Blue Cross, the nearest equivalent
they have, for Federal employees, to the NHS, and so on. I've found that
running two households in different countries is more time-consuming than I had
expected. What with this and the business of settling in with the Navy, I've
also had hardly any time for leisure. In fact it was only just after the
Christmas break that I realised I could see the sea through the trees from my
bedroom window !
I've now managed to visit a local antiques shop and make my
number with the owner by buying a few bits and pieces, only physically small
things to the relief of the family members who know about it. On his
recommendation I've also joined the famous Redwood Library, at 1754 the oldest
one in the US, where I had a long chat with a Brit enthusiast who works there,
who walked me round an amazing collection of local 17th and 18th Century
grand-father clocks, and their 18th Century bookshelves with gaps on the shelves from
where our compatriots nicked some of the books during the War of American
Independence.
So I've
had some fun. One of the most bizarre events was attending a military black tie
dinner with my colleagues, run by a weird club called the Victoria Military
Society, where people wear special medals (you can see mine in the picture) as
well as their normal miniatures and a colourful collection of old colonial era
uniforms -the Honorable Massachusetts Artillery Company and so forth. Its
modelled on very British lines and starts with a loyal toast to the Queen. As
I've said before, Newport is a very anglophile town. This photo shows the team I now work with, a very happy and collegial group
Singapore, where I was last month, was also
fun. It seems a very long time ago and a very different place. It was a good
trip academically useful with three conferences all conveniently in the same
week and it was nice meeting many old colleagues - as well as spending some
time in the sun by the pool in a couple of hotels. Most of the time though I
stayed in our old flat on the university campus. Partly for this reason of
course it was a bitter-sweet visit as Cherry embedded herself so much in
Singapore and the memories kept surfacing. But of course they would, because I
made a point of revisiting the places we liked to go such as the Cathedral
(made by convicts, using egg-white)
and the Fullerton building (once the
British government building and post-office and now a magnificent hotel where
they do superb 'high teas,' one of our special treats). Likewise, in the flat
there were still the particular pans she had liked and bought, the elegant
flute for her prosecco (fiendishly expensive in Singapore, but she didn't mind)
unpacking the boxes that she had packed, and both there at back at Wansdyke,
opening things knowing that hers was the last hand that had touched them. The
marks on the wall where she had illicitly put her art, family and cat pictures
up. I knew the exact significance of those marks but no-one else will - the
disappearing traces of a departed life that I want to immortalise. So I find
that I don't mind these constant reminders; they are still somehow a source of
comfort, an indication that is some strange way I haven't entirely lost her
because I still won't really accept that our life together is over. With these constant
reminders it won't be.
Accordingly
I am not at all upset when people first discover that Cherry has died. A young Chinese
girl we knew had no idea and was completely shocked. She grabbed my arm, eyes
a-brim, 'But she was so kind !' A Philippine professor not so emotional but appalled
and not knowing what to say. In these circumstances, oddly I find myself
comforting them for their distress and embarrassment, but it isn't easy - I
haven't found the right form of words.
'Yes, cancer, that's life I suppose.' 'The sort of thing one must expect I'm
afraid.' This is the usual kind of thing I mumble but it seems so inadequate. I
need to do better because it will go on happening for a while because Cherry
was almost certainly the most well-known wife on the global maritime conference
circuit.
I got
back from Singapore and London to Boston in late January with a real bump,
especially after being upgraded to business class. I had expected the worse
because my landlady's land agent had texted me to say that all of Southern
Rhode Island had lost its gas, during the coldest week of the year so far, way
below freezing. Lots of people had moved out of the state or into hotels. So I
was relieved to open the door just before midnight to find the house tolerably
warm. What I hadn't anticipated though was no water ! Not ideal after a long
flight. Fortunately I had left enough in the kettle for what I needed most - a
cup of tea ! The following morning I took all my stuff into College and did my
ablutions in the nearest gents 'restroom' to my office, as I noticed, had
others. On the way back, at the end of the day, I bought two big tubs of water
- only to find, of course, that the crisis was over and the water splutteringly
full on. For me at any rate. Knowing the US as I am beginning to, there will be
lawsuits about this for years.
The
other big challenge awaiting me, was SERE training. This is on-line training in
escape evasion and survival to prepare Defence Department employees who are
travelling alone in some parts of the world (nearly all of it in fact). On-line
it may be, but it's dreaded by everyone for its brutality. An ex-Marine of my acquaintance said it was worse than the battle of Fallujah. It takes a very long
time and is extremely stressful, not so much for the questions and tests they
subject you to but because the supporting computer system is extraordinarily
complicated. After the better part of two days at this I had learned all sorts
of useful things. How to boil insects without a fire. Never engage with in a
discussion with an unknown local about religion. Remember to leave traces,
notes, fingerprints everywhere if captured.
About crouching not lying flat if confronted with an 'active shooter'
because bullets go for the lowest trajectory, but do lie flat if grenades are
being used, feet towards the source. I know to stay away from windows and doors
if I hear loud bangs outside as it will be a Special Forces extraction team
coming to get me. So long as I can remember the colour of my cat in 1995, I'll
be fine, probably. And so on and so forth. After this there was the brutal
exam. I got 86 % and they said congratulations you've passed ! Then the system crashed and I lost it all
! At one stage there were 4 of my
colleagues gathered round my desk at work on my computer trying to recover it,
including one who is quite amazing with computers. They were all defeated by
it. The system had no record of my having done the exam, so I had to do it again.
But because I had been mildly curious and looked up what I had got wrong, this
time I came out with 100%. This means they will probably expect me to extract
other people. This was sparked by my next trip to Colombia of course, though I
think it would also apply to my going to such dangerous places as central Wiltshire next month;
but now I have my certificate, so I don't mind
