Day Forty-three from Melissa - Parliament

We had a really fun day in class today. You know how a lot of times you hear students complaining about the dress code at BYU?  Well, I will forever laugh at them now, because we're going to Oxford tomorrow and the teacher told us a little bit about the dress codes there. To take tests, they wear a three piece suit with a bow tie and some kind of grey flowy coat. Some colleges, you have to wear that to eat as well. Our teacher went on to tell about the boys school at Eton - a very famous school. All the boys there have to wear a top hat and tails to school. There was this pause as if everyone in the classroom thought he was telling a joke, and were waiting for the punchline to laugh at - but there never was one. He was dead serious. Ha!  And people think asking guys to shave and girls not to wear leggings is too strict!

Anyway. 

So, have you ever seen a picture of a tower with a clock in it called Big Ben?  Well, it's attached to a building called The Houses of Parliament. That's where the House of Lords and the House of Commons meet. 

So today Miriam and I went to see the House of Commons. It's quite easy, actually. You walk around the building, through all the tourists who don't know, and get to a gap in the gate, guarded by policemen with tall hats. 

I would've gotten a picture of them but I didn't dare. 

Anyway, you go up and say, "I'd like to see the House of Commons meet," and if they're meeting then, you get ushered in past the policemen and down a long ramp. You go through airport style security, only you can keep your shoes and jewelry on, and then out into a courtyard. It's all very friendly and easy and non-confrontational, just as if there's nothing unusual about it. No long lines either, at least when we were there. 

This is Big Ben from the inside of the fence - a sight I never thought I'd see!

Then you go through a door into a huge hall.

I kid you not, you could probably fit our entire church building in there - you'd just have to rearrange some of the rooms a little. I took this from the other end, so you can see the door we entered in. 

As you walk through, you can see plaques on the floor where famous people stood. King George lay in state here, and so did the Queen Mother. Sir Thomas More stood here as he was sentenced to death. 

And so did one of my personal heroes, William Wallace. 

It was here that he was accused of being a traitor. He defended himself saying, "I am not a traitor to King Edward because he is not my king."  He was Scottish you see, and at that time Scotland was resisting English takeover. Needless to say, that didn't go over well. 

Anyway, you go up the steps and turn left into a long hall, very heavily ornamented and with murals in both walls, showing things like Queen Elizabeth with Sir Walter Raleigh. A lady gave us a ticket with a number on it, and we sat in a row on a bench with maybe five other people until a man came for us and ushered us in. 

I tried to sneak a photo, but it didn't turn out, obviously.  Then I had to sign a paper that basically forfeited my soul if I took any pictures or made a disturbance, so no more pictures from this point on in. 

We climbed spiral stairs, with windows looking out on the Gothic decorations and slate roofs. It was all kind of creaky and wooden and small. Then we got to a coat room, where you basically checked your bag and everything in your pockets, and then you could go in. 

The House of Commons is also big, though not nearly as big as the hall I showed you a picture of. It's maybe twice the size of a basketball court - a big squarish room, two levels high. The audience balcony (where we were) was over one end, and below us were maybe six rows of benches, facing each other on either side of a central isle. Positioning on these benches depends on which party is in the majority and whatnot. There was a very startling outcome to a recent election, so everyone's still getting used to the shift in governmental power. 

Down each side of the isle is a red line in front of the chairs.  The members of parliament are forbidden to cross their line to the other side.  They are allegedly spaced just far enough apart that men standing on their side of the line can't kill the other one with their sword - a relic of days past. 

Between the lines, in the middle of the room, there's a table with a golden scepter laid on it. That's a symbol of the Queen's presence in the House of Commons. She herself is not actually allowed in. The last king to do so was Charles I, who barged in to arrest people. The whole House of Commons stood up against him, respectfully refusing him the right to mess around in their place. Shortly afterward, Charles I was tried and executed. Since then, monarchy has been declined entrance, and the ceremonial scepter is the only symbol of their presence. 

It was very interesting to hear them debate. The balcony had a wall of glass, barring me from the speakers below. Apparently somebody chucked a thing of colored powder at the prime minister once, so they had it installed. A grid of microphones hang from the ceiling to pick up what they're saying, and some unseen sound person switches which microphone goes to the loudspeakers so you can always hear whoever is speaking. 

They were debating regarding an upcoming European Union referendum, and whether or not to let sixteen and seventeen year olds vote on it. The most vocal man was a witty Scot, who did a very good job parrying back the verbal jabs aimed at him, and made some good points. 

We stayed for quite a while before tearing ourselves away. As we got our bags from the baggage room man, he said cheerfully, "Would you like to see the House of Lords?  They're just starting. It's worth it."

Well, never let it be said that we turn down great opportunities. 

We went back down to the central room and crossed a round atrium to get to another aisle, where we joined a line of maybe fifteen people, all waiting. There were murals here too. One was of the Puritans leaving England, and one was of Charles I being denied access to the House of Commons. 

After waiting for maybe ten minutes, they let us in. Again, we filled out papers signing away our souls as penalty for misbehavior, and climbed countless stairs, following signs "To the Stranger's Gallery."

The room they let us into was considerably more grand, though the dimensions and general layout seemed to be roughly the same. Unlike the wood-paneled House of Commons, this one had statues in armor ringing the hall below the windows. Electric candelabras flanked the front of the room, and then there was the throne. The Queen has access here, though she was absent today. It was very grand and gold and imperial looking, with a pillow that had the symbols of the four nations that make up the UK. 

The people there had more posh accents than the House of Commons, but were also considerably less entertaining speakers. They were discussing housing reform of some kind, but we sadly couldn't stay long enough to figure it all out. There was a whole row allocated to bishops, who sat in black and white robes and listened to the talk. 

As we left the building, I think I finally figured out exactly why the separation of church and state is such a big deal. Mosaics of the patron saints of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland covered the ceiling while sculptures of kings and queens flanked them. The two are so linked as to be inextricable. 

No wonder my ancestors numbered among the Pilgrims who wanted to come away. There is no difference between religion and politics, or at least there wasn't. There would have been no way to differ in religious ideology without being considered seditious and traitorous to the king.  

Anyway, after that we headed to Handel's house. It's a museum tucked above some other buildings. And right now it's behind scaffolding, so it's hard to see. 

Not much to look at either. And up inside you couldn't take pictures. It's okay - after his death everything was sold, so only the stairs are original, though the walls have been repainted to the same dark grey they were when he was there. 

But it was neat. You climbed up one story and were in his composition room, where he composed the Messiah. Walk through another door and you're in the rehearsal room. Probably that's the one from which he threatened to throw the diva opera singer out the window.  You can see from the picture that would be no small height!  They also had a woodcut portrait of the woman who sang in his Messiah. If you've seen BYUTV's documentary, you'll know the one I mean. There was a replica harpsichord there, and somebody was practicing Baroque music on it. Apparently they hold music recitals there sometimes. 

Go up another flight of stairs and you'll find his bedroom. This is most likely where he died, and he spent lots of time there. 

They're all very small rooms, but it was fun to see them. There was this sweet little Japanese lady who was a violinist. In broken English she enthused with me over being there, and made a little small talk. I wished I could think of something nice to say in Japanese, but my mind went totally blank. 

It was funny. I tried to pay for my entrance ticket with bills from Scotland and the receptionist turned me down - said she hadn't ever seen them before. She offered to call the office and check, and the lady behind me in line backed me up, but I found some English money in my bag, so it was okay. Interesting though. In Scotland they never questioned my English money. 

Anyway, we came back to dinner, which was bread and some kind of salmon fish dish. If it had been more runny, it could have passed as soup. If it had been more cooked, it could have been a casserole. As it was, it was very ambiguous. It was good though, especially when eaten with bread. I was at the table with some of the less adventurous girls. I'm not sure what they eat, but most nights they don't eat much of the dinners served. To be honest, it is unusual food at times. So there was more for me!  Theirs is a very good table to sit at. Pretty much everyone has learned that if you want leftovers, go to their table to scrounge!