So I’d booked a holiday in Oxford (see previous post). Not even a real holiday, because I had to learn all about Art History, from the ancient Greeks to the 1980’s. And all of this only to be able to say: “Which University did I go to? Oh, Oxford. Trinity College to be precise. Had a fab time.”
Who?
Me?
A snob?
I really had a fab time by the way. Had a large room in a beautiful college building, with the worst bed ever.
Had early morning walks through the gardens…
…followed by breakfast in the beautiful College Dining Hall under the watchful eyes of former College Presidents.
At one of these breakfasts I sat opposite two elderly ladies who were also from the Netherlands and one of these ladies was telling us that she used to be a teacher and that she came from Amsterdam. “I was born in Amsterdam and lived there until I was 15. We then moved to another part of the country.”, I said. “Which school did you go to in Amsterdam?”, the lady asked. “Cartesius Lyceum”, I said.
“I taught Geography at the Cartesius”, she replied.
”Wouldn’t it be funny if you turned out to be my former Geography teacher?”, I laughed. “What’s your name?”
”I’m Mrs. Bezema”, she said.
At which point somewhere in the back of my mind a little light switched on.
“You actually were my Geography teacher!”
And I did remember her to be a very sweet lady. She was our class mentor. I hadn’t recognized her. No ‘I knów you, I do!’-experience here. And who expects their Geography teacher from 26 years ago to be sitting at the same table in a College Dining Hall in Oxford? When you’re not even from Oxford. Not even from Great Britain.
The woman in the red coat is Mrs. Bezema
And no, she didn’t remember me. I had only been in her class for two years before we moved and I hadn’t made a lasting impression. Which is a good thing. Because I’m not a brilliant student and the only other way to make a teacher never forget you is by drawing the blood from under their nails I think.
Glad I didn’t.
She could have taken her revenge with a butter knife. (I’m not making this up. She’s actually holding a knife, in a very threatening way, in that photo of the Dining Hall. See?)
Actually it appears she is using her knife more as a pointer than a weapon. I would have been more concerned if she'd had her hand under it or was holding it over her head and thrusting downward.
ReplyDeletejust sayin'
That's amazing... your University..your ROOM!!... that coincidental meeting too..
ReplyDeletebut OXFORD!!!..wow.
Thatbis a stunning place..you are so well read/trained and all! Too funny...seems she is talking with her butter knife,silly gal!
ReplyDeleteGood times!
KK
That's quite a coincidence. I'm not sure I'd want to meet any of my old teachers though there's no chance any of them would remember me. I remember parents of children I've taught - the children change beyond all recognition!
ReplyDeleteIT,
ReplyDeleteyou are right of course, she really is a sweet lady, it's just my twisted mind that makes up these things ;-)
Karen,
It was so weird to meet her there. And something else along the same lines happened there too. One of the next posts I think. Ah, memories ;-)
KK,
no no, I'm just good at giving the impression I'm well educated ;-) Don't know where all the knowledge is now, but it's not 'up there' (pointing towards head) anymore.
Oxford is a beautiful town. So much history and gorgeous buildings *sigh*
I love these seemingly random meetings that aren't! :)
ReplyDeleteI have the strangest feeling that I have read this before. Did you post something very similar in 2009? 2008? It's uncanny.
ReplyDeleteMaybe you just like to recycle your old posts when you have nothing new to say...
Nobody would remember even when still at school. Until my brother made his first appearance and from that day onwards, I would always be: aren't you the sister of...
ReplyDeleteBetter to go by unnoticed!
RWP,
ReplyDeleteNow you mention it, I think I have posted about this before. Early signs of dementia (I hope not). Your memory is definitely better than mine ;-)
Thanks, Carolina. I wanted to say "I know I'm not crazy," but that would be a leap.
ReplyDeletethis is super fab i must say, this must be an exciting experience for you and to everyone involved.
ReplyDeletei bet 50 million students have slept on the same bed you did that was so awful>>>>i went to utqah state university for a conferance and slept on a bed that smelled>>>so count your blessings
ReplyDeleteand bob no matter what anyone says you ARE out of your mind, totally>>>and i am not shouting except for ARE
ReplyDeleteNUMBER 13 COMMENT ONCE AGAIN>>>jackpot
ReplyDeleteand my grand pa ernie went to oxford>>>gotta stop this
ReplyDeleteRWP,
ReplyDeleteyou can be crazy ánd have a good memory ;-)
Dave,
you are right ;-)
Putz,
You are in Bob's league I'm not sorry to say. He likes writing multiple comments to one post too, which makes me look incredibly popular. Thank you ;-)
The Oxford bed left me with a sore neck, but one of the other students did some Reiki and that helped. It wouldn't have helped if the bed had smelled. So, I'm counting my blessings as we speak ;-)
Mara,
hmm, you are probably right ;-)
Jinksy,
I really thought it was a coincidence and now you tell me there was a deeper meaning? ;-)
Wow that's serendipitous. Sorry, I've been a bad commenter but back on the wagon now! Love Oxford Campus, never studied there of course but I've had a good look around.
ReplyDeleteHow small the world is! I'm impressed you remembered her name. She must have left an impression with you for sure. I remember only those that made a difference in my character and knowledge base. The rest are kind of vauge blurry moments with faces I can no longer put a name to. God. It wasn't even that long ago! Do you think I have alzheimers? By the time I'm 40 I'll be drooling in a chair in the corner.
ReplyDelete