may day

So, you know how I intended to write more on Budapest? I didn't do that. Suffice it to say, it was lovely and I long to go back and I have dozens of photos on facebook. Yes?

Yes.

Term officially started yesterday, though we postgrads have been in the academic swing of things all break. Nevertheless, it's nice to have everyone else back and regular sorts of things happening once more.

In addition to being the start of term (my final term here!!), it was also the first of May: May Day. Oxford engages in its own unique tradition of May Morning, wherein hundreds of people (a fairly even split, we observed, between drunk-people-still-up and tired-people-just-getting-up) make their way at five in the morning to Magdalen College on the High street and stand around the college's tower. At six, the Magdalen choir begins to sing.

I would like to report that the sound carries softly through the still morning air as if by magic--but in reality, the sound equipment was not the best and was almost irritatingly obvious. Still, the choir sang beautifully, and their performance was followed by a

bit of a bizarre Earth Mother-y kind of prayer. I was blown away by the number of people down in city centre at 5:30 on a Sunday morning, though, and the group atmosphere of dancing and coffee-drinking and singing was lovely to behold. Above are some of my college friends, tired but happy, congregating on the street.

Oxford students and visitors used to rent punts and float along the Thames for the morning's festivities, but due to drunkenness-related danger, the University forbade the renting of boats in the 1980s. For the last thirty years, then, people have jumped in the river, despite obvious and serious danger. I didn't see any splashes, so perhaps this year's police warnings paid off.

 After the singing, it was still only about 6:30, but already pubs and restaurants and things were open. We made our way to the Big Bang, but not before running into all sorts of crazy early-morning celebration-of-Spring shenanigans.

Adults and children alike sang, danced, and played  all through the City Centre. One woman, wearing a black sheep's head, hung thin filaments of golden thread on bicycles, college walls, and street signs. One ivy-covered wall (a wall on Broad street, belonging, I think, to Trinity college) had bits of coloured paper tied to its leaves, which upon closer inspection featured wishes, promises, Springtime resolutions, and other newly public messages.

People got increasingly odd as the morning wore on: lots of Oxford streetgoers had on really silly outfits and were doing even sillier things. The city exploded with colour and sound all morning, and I have to admit: I felt a lot more springy and rejuvenated all day. I didn't even have to jump off Magdalen Bridge.