July 05 Newsletter

Amie arranged to meet me at the tube with her dad, Nik, and show me how to negotiate the payment, entry and train selection, which has become very hi-tech these days even though the underground system itself is antiquated, hot and dirty. Then the three of us made our way across from West London to St. Mary’s College in the East London campus of the University of London.

On arrival Amie queued to be kitted up in full graduation regalia. There were some very peculiar get ups, some with yellow tights and pom-pom hats or feathers. We were relieved to discover that the outfits for Amie’s faculty were rather more sober and dignified. While she preened and practiced walking and balancing what she called her "smorgasbord" on her head, Nik and I behaved like complete tourists and bought celebratory tea mugs, kitchen towels and tee shirts to mark the occasion. Students of all colours and persuasions milled about nervously in their graduation regalia with their proud parents fussing around their offspring. You could feel the tension rising every minute as the time for the ceremony ticked closer.

As Amie went backstage with her fellow students to receive her graduation certificate, Nik and I were treated to a classical recital from a young opera singer as along with all the other eager parents we found our seats in the two tiered assembly hall. On stage were rows of brightly costumed professors seated to witness and congratulate their students on their results. It looked a little like medieval costume drama as the various dignitaries bestowed honorary doctorates on visiting professors. None of them spoke in single syllable words when a triple syllable could be substituted - so much for academia. (All right, already, we know you are all clever clogs!)

During her opening speech the University head informed us that it had just been publicly announced that the UK had won the bid for the next Olympics and what it would mean to the University and the local community. It felt like real day of achievement all round. The buzz of anticipation was reaching fever pitch.

That particular day the Drama and Law students were there as well as Amie’s Modern Languages department. The Drama and Law parents, seated downstairs, were very restrained and well behaved. Upstairs with the languages parents was a very different story. Most of them were foreign and had traveled probably for the first time to the UK for this great event. They were from all over Europe with many from the former eastern block. You could sense this was a very important day of achievement for them through their Babel of animated conversations. When their kid’s names were announced instead of merely clapping they jumped and screamed their delight. It was the Italians who started it off. "Brava!" "Brava!" It was catching. As Amie Rose Powell was called Nik and I clapped and cheered so much that I missed taking her actual graduation shot .So we splashed out and had a professional one done instead.

Afterwards we retired for a pint in the student bar before heading home. Amie, despite her posh outfit, quickly reverted to type!

The next day terrorists’ bombs hit London. Ironically they were all along the entire route we had taken the previous morning.