A bit about life in Cambridge
14/Jan/2007 17:37
In her
orientation session at the start of last week,
program director Elaine Bernard gave some tips for
understanding the local accent. They drop the “r” so
that Harvard Square is Haahvaahd Squae and harbour is
Haah baah, but they don’t lose the “r” completely,
she quipped. It gets inserted other places. For
example, “ideas” become “idears.”
Understanding
the local accent is only one of the challenges of
being in Cambridge. The drivers live up to their
reckless reputation. The other day, I watched a
police officer pull over two cars in a five-minute
period because each ran a red light at a very busy
intersection. Another issue is the high cost of
living. I just assumed a person could live relatively
cheaply in a university town (there are about 40
university and colleges in the area) but no so. Food
in stores and restaurants is especially expensive.
Public transit, on the other hand, is
reasonable—about $1.65 a trip if you pay the fare
using a pre-paid “Charlie Card.”
Other random things to report: (1) People keep referring to Harvard as a bastion of liberalism (what does that mean, I wonder); (2) the university is tuition-blind, meaning low-income students who are admitted have easy access to scholarships, although I’m not sure how many low-income students are admitted; (3) students here actually wear those crimson (not red) sweatshirts, jackets, hats, etc. with the Harvard logo plastered on them; (4) the cultural scene is thriving—the free weekly paper has pages and pages of film, music, theatre and visual arts listings and I was thrilled to see that both Fred Eaglesmith and Harry Manx are scheduled to play a local venue before I head home (5) Cambridge looks very white and feels very rich.
The trade union program itself is quite social. The students get together at every opportunity in small and large groups to discuss and share information. Except for a few who commute to the program from home, we are being put up in apartment buildings within walking distance to class at Radcliffe College gym, which is unlike any gym I’ve seen: beautiful wood floors, high ceilings and a raised wooden spectators’ gallery that runs around the perimeter. Lovely surroundings, but the acoustics stink. The instructors (all but Elaine who has a booming voice) have to use a lapel mike to be heard, and a hand-held microphone gets passed around during discussion period.
Yesterday Elaine took us on a walking tour of downtown Boston, following along the famous freedom trail, a two and a half mile red line of paint and inlaid brick that passes many historic landmarks (most of which meant nothing to me because I am so ignorant of US history). We started off from the Boston Common (a large central park where all the major demonstrations have been held throughout the city’s history) and walked by the golden roofed statehouse on Beacon Hill (painted grey during the second world war).
Our tour ended at the Holocaust Memorial made up of six glass and steel towers, 54-feet tall, with smoke billowing up each one. Six million serial numbers are etched into the glass. The towers recall the death chambers of the six main Nazi death camps, the six million killed, or a menorah of memorial candles. At the entrance of the memorial there is a stone plaque with the words of Pastor Martin Niemoeller: They came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist; then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew; then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist; then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant, then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up.
As Elaine pointed out, often people omit the first line of this statement when they recite it. I was glad to see it included in this moving memorial.
Other random things to report: (1) People keep referring to Harvard as a bastion of liberalism (what does that mean, I wonder); (2) the university is tuition-blind, meaning low-income students who are admitted have easy access to scholarships, although I’m not sure how many low-income students are admitted; (3) students here actually wear those crimson (not red) sweatshirts, jackets, hats, etc. with the Harvard logo plastered on them; (4) the cultural scene is thriving—the free weekly paper has pages and pages of film, music, theatre and visual arts listings and I was thrilled to see that both Fred Eaglesmith and Harry Manx are scheduled to play a local venue before I head home (5) Cambridge looks very white and feels very rich.
The trade union program itself is quite social. The students get together at every opportunity in small and large groups to discuss and share information. Except for a few who commute to the program from home, we are being put up in apartment buildings within walking distance to class at Radcliffe College gym, which is unlike any gym I’ve seen: beautiful wood floors, high ceilings and a raised wooden spectators’ gallery that runs around the perimeter. Lovely surroundings, but the acoustics stink. The instructors (all but Elaine who has a booming voice) have to use a lapel mike to be heard, and a hand-held microphone gets passed around during discussion period.
Yesterday Elaine took us on a walking tour of downtown Boston, following along the famous freedom trail, a two and a half mile red line of paint and inlaid brick that passes many historic landmarks (most of which meant nothing to me because I am so ignorant of US history). We started off from the Boston Common (a large central park where all the major demonstrations have been held throughout the city’s history) and walked by the golden roofed statehouse on Beacon Hill (painted grey during the second world war).
Our tour ended at the Holocaust Memorial made up of six glass and steel towers, 54-feet tall, with smoke billowing up each one. Six million serial numbers are etched into the glass. The towers recall the death chambers of the six main Nazi death camps, the six million killed, or a menorah of memorial candles. At the entrance of the memorial there is a stone plaque with the words of Pastor Martin Niemoeller: They came first for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Communist; then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew; then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist; then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant, then they came for me, and by that time no one was left to speak up.
As Elaine pointed out, often people omit the first line of this statement when they recite it. I was glad to see it included in this moving memorial.
|