Norfolk Terrace, UEA, Norwich, Day 124.
Parents in Norwich!
As I entered the Norwich train station around
half six (6:30) in the evening, I saw my parents. Maybe it’s skype-induced,
because this happened when I saw Katya at Heathrow Airport as well, but there
is an eerie yet wonderful sensation in seeing people from home after months:
the flat screen of the computer monitor had only given a pixelated
representation of their expressions, their faces, their movement. In real life
again, my parents were right there in front of me, walking outside of my memory
and into the Norwich train station. And hugging them was a nice feeling to feel
again.
We
kept walking outside the station, and though at first I didn’t say anything, I
really didn’t know where to take them to dinner. I never really walk from the
rail station to anywhere—always taxi or bus. But we made into the Chapelfield
shopping centre and there was a restaurant called the Mackintosh Canteen so we
ate there. As much as this makes me sound spoiled—well, I really didn’t have
any comfortable causal shoes (the Converse are killing my toes)—I bought some new
Vans at a nearby store and Mom enjoyed walking through the mall with me in the
process. Yes, one of my parents’ expectations for England was a more rustic,
more old feeling to the place—sure, there are the Cathedrals and the castles,
but Norwich, as many English cities are, is modern. Modernized. The cobblestone
streets are mere side-street attractions, the main cement roads dominate.
Dinner
was nice—good Shepherd’s pie for me while they ate…also good food. I just
remember my Shepherd’s pie. The conversation was good—we talked of home, what
has changed, what hasn’t, how my brother Johnathan is, how the cats are (yes,
this was important too). I also was very curious to know how well they got by
in Paris (the first part of their trip this week). I was pleasantly—no,
completely—surprised to hear that my mom remembered enough French from high
school to pull through for both of them. Additionally, they were able to enjoy
the city of Paris on bank holidays too, Monday and Tuesday, which enabled them
to go into museums and other parts of the city without long lines. I was
envious but happy and still very surprised at how well they did in a foreign
country for the first time in many, many years.
After
dinner was a taxi ride back—did you know you can get a restaurant server to
call a taxi for you? It just blew my mind a little—back to Norwich, where I
showed them to the UEA Hotel (Day 58). Within twenty minutes of them settling
in the room, the smoke alarms went off in the building…
Oh
this leads into a good mini-story. Twice in the room did someone turn a switch
and something unexpected and coincidental occurred simultaneously. First a
switch in the bathroom was flipped—and something fell on the ground near the
desk in the room. Then I plugged in my dad’s laptop to charge it—and the smoke
alarm went off. By instinct, my dad told me, ‘Unplug it.’ We all laughed when
it dawned on us a second later.
Once
outside the building, we met another UEA Hotel resident annoyed by the smoke
alarm, a London school psychologist taking a leave of absence to study
philosophy and visit Norwich for a time. My dad raved about this book, Descartes’ Bones, which he would later
do at the campus pub to two of my friends, and also discussed interesting facts
about the Pantheon he and Mom visited in Paris. Once the cold wind really
became icy, we headed for my dorm and I introduced them to about a quarter of
the flat, basically whoever was in the kitchen. Then we headed off to the Union
Pub on campus where we ran into my friends Morgana and Rebecca and all of us
talked about America (what do ya know?) and Morgana’s anthropology major and
living in Colorado. It was really fun.
We
called it a night by ten and I headed back to answer Katya’s emails. The first
day with my parents was one of those days where I felt that warmth of home
mixed with the warmth of this third home (UEA/Norwich), and the combination was
nice—foreign familiar and familiar foreign until everything’s just familiar.
Amid the rain and Stephen King, I slipped into my covers, tired (despite
spending most of the day up until 1pm in bed).
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