Soccerball USA

I'm not going to discharge yet my promise to write about courses; I think it's fairer to wait until they've settled into a routine before making judgments about them. So instead...

Yesterday evening, I attended a 'tryout' session for the uni football team. Those of you familiar with my footballing ability will appreciate how ridiculous it would be for me to bother doing the same in the UK. Those of you who aren't, well, try to imagine me displaying skill, speed, poise, power, grace...

Finding it hard? Images of flailing limbs and the occasional pratfall instead? Right on. At my best, I'm competent. So I approached these trials with trepidation, and partial expectation of humiliation. On the other hand, I thought it was worth going a) for the exercise, b) for something to do, and c) because it was possible the standard here was really a lot lower than in England.

Miami, you might have gathered, is a hot and humid place in the summer. The session started at 6pm, and I'd already worked up a decent sweat getting from the metro to the pitch (five minute walk). By the end of the warm-up - three laps of a three-pitch area - I was in the odd position of being barely out of breath (it was jogged, and distance running I'm ok at), but literally dripping with perspiration.

Anyway, on to some basic ball drills, and then a series of short practice matches in which the first team took on teams of newcomers. And do you know, the standard here really isn't that great. Nobody from the first XI seemed to be any better than some of the people I played 5-a-side with in Sheffield, and although a few of the newcomers - in particular, two Brazilians - were obviously good, the level was by no means above me. Humiliation avoided.

There's more of these sessions tomorrow and next week before they sort out the final squad. I'm not particularly bothered about making that; I'd really rather just play scratch five-a-side once or twice a week than do boring training sessions. But turning up to these things is a good way of meeting like-minded people, and a run-around too. Hopefully, by this time next week, I'll know enough casual footballers to sort out a regular, informal game.

Other than that, nothing much to report. No news from AHRC in England, and not much news here...

Addenda and replies

Some things I forgot to mention and some replies to comments.

Orientation: I should have mentioned this highlight, from a talk on the university's graduate student "honour code".
Speaker: The code also prohibits cheating. Can anyone tell me what cheating is?
[silence from room full of patronised grads refusing to play along]
Speaker: OK, well the honour code defines cheating as: using any device or means to cheat.
[muffled snorts from other phil grad student and me at triviality of definition].

I checked later, and it really does say that.

Housing: I've realised I've been suffering from a misapprehension for a while. I don't know if it's common, or if everyone else had kind of thought about it a bit more. So this will be either enlightening, or evidence of my occasional utter daftness.

Anyway, I'd always though that American streets must be really, really long, because I'd assumed that, if your house was number (say) 9300, that implied the existence of 9299 other houses in the street. It turns out that this isn't the case, the streets are normalish length, and the houses are numbered by some complex system that I don't yet understand. My neighbour on one side is 9250; I forget the other.

Replies: I might consider getting a bike when it cools down a bit, but at present, it's far too humid. Arriving at your destination dripping with sweat isn't a good look. I suspect rollerblades may be even more undignified. Sports cars are, well, do you know how much money I'm getting here? Ill gull wings though.

Wedding photos: Class, send 'em along. There's some on facebook already. I can't decide if we all look suave and mature, or uncomfortable and dressing-up-box costumed.

Courses: Jules, I'll write more about this once I've actually had some classes, but I'm taking a general epistemology course, one on naturalisation in epistemology and phil of science, and one which was advertised as ontology but seems to be more like phil of physics. So depending on how you look at it, I'm either getting an excellent opportunity to round out my background in unfamiliar areas, or I'm pissing about studying things that I don't really care about instead of getting on with the research I actually want to do....

I'll house you

Classes officially start today, but none of the ones I'm taking begin till Monday. So apart from some preliminary reading, I have plenty of time on my hands. I've just about sorted the mounds of paperwork, and the next couple of days are about exploration.

So before I expand my horizons, and since Dan (I'm not sure which one?) asked, I'll say a bit about my accommodation. I'm living in a large house with another (part time) phil grad student, the house's owner, and her mother (and two dogs and two cats). This is by no means an unusual arrangement here; a lot more of the housing is of the lodgings type, rather than shared houses. By many measures, I've fallen on my feet somewhat. My rent is cheap, the other occupants are friendly and relaxed, and I have all the facilities I could reasonably wish for. And a pool in the back yard.

The house is in a suburb of Miami, about four miles south of the university. Again, the distance isn't unusual. Since everything here is arranged for driving, the city is sprawling, and most amenities are awkwardly spaced for the pedestrian. I have a 15 minute walk to the nearest metro stop, from where I can catch a train that deposits me right outside the university. I also have a 15 minute walk to pick up the most basic of groceries; laughably, this means that it takes me as long to acquire a pint of milk here as it did when I was living in Langdale. I have absolutely no idea where the nearest pub/bar is. I suspect there isn't one within walking distance.

I did investigate one other possibility for housing at the weekend; a room in a solidly constructed treehouse, in a smallholding bizarrely situated in the middle of one of Miami's less salubrious districts, run and rented by a greying hippy. The room was very, very cheap, and the place itself an incredible oasis of green. But is was far, far too far from the uni, and the landlord struck me as having that brusque self-interest that you sometimes find in old hippies, which seems jarringly at odds with their professed ethos.

So anyway, I'm staying here in Kendall for now, and probably for a while. If you'd like my postal address, email me for it. Anybody could be reading this.

Orientated?

I've been here less than 48 hours, and so far as the university are concerned, I'm now officially orientated. The process included some wonderfully vacuous speeches from various university dignitaries ("you join UM at a pivotal moment in our history"), some helpful information from the health service ("if you show up without insurance, we keep your first-born until you pay"), and, especially for international students, advice on how to adjust to American culture (fast food is key, it seems). A particular highlight was the university's President exhorting the room full of new grads to cheer at someone dressed in a big furry ibis suit ("we take school spirit very seriously here"). I kept quiet.

Of course, I'm anything but orientated. I've found the nearest grocery store, set up a bank account, and worked out the best way to uni on the surprisingly efficient public transport network. I haven't by any means got used to the idea of living in such a car-happy city. Nor have I seen any beaches, boys on rollerblades, alligators, or art deco buildings. But there's iridescent dragonflies flitting amongst the palm trees on the campus, and little lizards jumping into the bushes as you approach on the pavement. And, perhaps, a hurricane on the way. Enough excitement for now, I think.

Disorganisation

A grey day in Durham, train in two and a half hours, still packing. One day, I'll learn to do that further in advance. On the other hand, last-minute specific packing panic means less time for general emmigration panic.

Think I've got everything; bit late now if I haven't. Dollars, passport, I-20, flight booking reference, clothes. What else? Nowt I can think of...

OK - off to put them in a bag. Next time I write something, hopefully more coherent and at greater length, I'll be a lot warmer than I am now....