FIELDNOTES Issue #2 13 January 2014 In my last set of fieldnotes, I described the Swansea trash removal system as something designed by Rube Goldberg. I apologize if I came across as an ethnocentric curmudgeon who thinks the U.S.A. has a better plan. I am not “that guy.” Environmental concerns, which I applaud, drive the Swansea trash scheme. The people of Swansea don’t complain, and neither do I. Also, one must remember that we U.S. Americans have the Affordable Healthcare Act rollout and web presence to our name—talk about “designed by Rube Goldberg”! I have been settling in and getting oriented this past week. I have experienced quite a smooth transition. The welcome and assistance given by staff and faculty at Swansea University’s Department of Arts and Humanities and the university’s international office has been nonpareil. Jon Roper…Angela Jones…Rachel Farebrother…Brynn Willcock…Helen Brocklehurst…Deb Marshall-­‐-­‐I mention them by name because some of you know them-­‐-­‐have all gone out of their way to answer questions, get me sorted out and pointed me in the right directions. Several days ago, in a wifi-­‐accessible coffee joint, reading and replying to email, I made a brief comment to Mark, a gentleman who worked there. “Is that an American accent I hear?” he asked. When I told him it was, and that I was from southeastern North Carolina, he declared, “Wilmington, perhaps? I lived there twelve years ago. With an artist. She had a house right on the beach.” He couldn’t remember the name of the beach. The ones I proposed (Wrightsville, Holden, Kure) did not sound familiar. Mark’s path has been a winding road. Born in Zimbawe (when it was still Rhodesia), he and his family fled when the violent political upheavals began there. His father, a technical professional, got a series of jobs that took the family to Saudi Arabia, France, Italy and several other European countries. Mark eventually moved to London, then North Carolina and then Ireland, securing a technical position with the Microsoft office in Dublin. And now Swansea. His accent contains vestiges of all the places he has lived. He remembers only once has someone been able to correctly identify the origins of the half-­‐dozen or so prominent inflections in his voice. In Dublin, Mark almost got married. “We were together for six years,” Mark said. “We were engaged. But in Ireland, once you’re married, that’s it. You buy a house near the parents, and suddenly you’re twenty years down the road. I just couldn’t do it. I’m not ready to stop traveling. So I left.” Somewhat unnecessarily, he added, “She didn’t like that.” Last night (Monday), at The Woodman, I had dinner with six faculty members in the American Studies Program, which is the administrative unit in which I’ll be teaching. According to my cabdriver, named Steve, The Woodman was years ago a louche pub, where he was able to buy a beer at age 14. But now, under new ownership and after some rehab, The Woodman is a casual dining restaurant. Steve nodded when I told him that I was scheduled to teach a course at Swansea University about the United States’ experience of World War Two. “Me grandmothe’ useta tell me stories from the war,” Steve recalled. “She lived in Swansea when you Yanks came in.” (The U.S. Army posted a division or two to Swansea, to train for the June 1944 invasion of France.) “‘Oh, the Yanks,’ she useta say,” Steve recalled, “‘They had everythin’—chocolate, nylon stockin’s. We girls would put on our best frocks and parade our wares down High Street, hopin’ to get the Yanks’ attention.’ Me grandmothe’,” Steve averred, “was a bi’ of a tart, you see.” Two of Monday evening’s dining companions have books coming out within the next 18 months or so. One examines the impact of Raymond Chandler’s World War I service in the Canadian infantry on his crime fiction. You may know Chandler as the creator of the character Philip Marlowe, the private eye operating in L.A. of the 1940s, played by Humphrey Bogart, Robert Mitchum, Dick Powell and others in film adaptations of Chandler’s detective novels. The other book is about the “Lost Cause” discourse in the social and cultural history of the U.S. South. (The War Between the States and related topics are specializations of at least a couple of the American Studies faculty members.) Although I consider myself to be up to speed on U.S. American history, politics, media and culture, the American Studies instructors know more, in many respects, about the U.S.A. than I (and perhaps many of you) do. For example, during dinner conversation, one gentleman made reference to how close the world came to nuclear war in autumn 1983 and the others all said, oh, yes, we must recognize that. For the life of me, though, I can’t recall what went on in 1983 that brought us to the brink. I was living in Indonesia at the time, but I’m just sayin’ … so I nodded sagely and hoped no one would solicit my thoughts on the subject. The students arrived over the weekend. So the UNCW contingent is now in-­‐country. I met with them as a group yesterday (Mon., the 13th). They attended Day One of an orientation program that continues into today. Swansea University conducts this orientation – called an induction here – for the 75 or so U.S. American students who will take classes here this semester. Among these Yanks, UNCW appears to have the largest contingent. But also represented are Colorado State, with about 7 students; and Iowa State, with about 13. One student is a Jayhawk (University of Kansas), flying alongside the 20 Seahawks from UNCW. A substantial number of the students—from UNCW and the eight or ten other U.S. schools—are majoring in STEM fields. When I began recruiting students, several people suggested I not bother giving presentations in science classes. But it has turned out that the English, creative writing, history and sociology classes I focused on were not really a mother lode for recruits. Perhaps through some UNCW student grapevine word is getting out that Swansea University’s STEM courses are high-­‐
quality, which they are; or the science and math majors in the lower-­‐division UNCW humanities and social-­‐science general-­‐education courses in which I gave recruiting pitches really jumped on the opportunity. Yesterday’s induction included a trip by motor coach to the Gower peninsula, a protected natural habitat, very beautiful and primly wild. Rain coursed down and wind blew it horizontally but we nonetheless got out of the buses to look at the wet, wintry vistas. Afterward, I convened an informal group meeting with the UNCW crew at a pub near the final destination of the motor coaches. When we gathered at the bus stop, I saw an unfamiliar face-­‐-­‐a young man named Chris, from University of Tennessee, alma mater of my UNCW-­‐COM colleague, Steve Pullum. Chris had become acquainted with several of the UNCW students, liked the cut of their jib and politely asked if he could come along. What I wanted to say to the group—
“Welcome to Swansea, work hard and have fun, and keep in mind that we’re guests in this country,” etc.—was not proprietary, so I told Chris to feel free to join us. You may wonder: How many communication studies majors are among the twenty UNCW students? Just under a half-­‐dozen. Either my pitches were less than effective in communication studies classes, or…well, you see, every UNCW student who wants to major in communication studies must take COM 105 from me, and earn a B or better in it. Few of them think of me as Mr. Congeniality. I hate to admit it, but perhaps the idea of spending six months abroad under Weber’s wing was simply a fail for COM majors!