
As Maneeza said last night, "all this stuff we've been doing... they're the stories we'll be telling our grandkids," and she's absolutely right. I cannot even begin to detail what has been going on for the past couple of weeks, but it's been fairly intense, and definitely worth sharing, so I'll do my best.
I left you last time, almost two weeks ago, just on the precipice of what have been probably the single most amazing two weeks of my summer... or at least the strangest. I did my Bob Dylan piece, which was super fun, and then came the big mama.... Stonehenge.
Here's a link to our PG version of my Stonehenge experience.... and for more videos and pictures, check out my Facebook.
But as for what I couldn't publish for millions to read.... Stonehenge was, in a word: crazy.
The best way I can come up with to describe what I saw at the Stonehenge summer solstice celebration was that it was like what I imagine Woodstock to have been; but in the dark, with harder drugs, and with semi-religious undertones. I was offered pot, cocaine, and pills throughout the night and into the morning, while "pissing rain" and fog went on for hours. It was a struggle to keep my video camera dry and my lens free of small droplets, and the dark conditions made getting any real video until the dawning hours nearly impossible, except for a few shots of the ever-popular glow wands, sticks, suits, and balls used by some of the revelers. In the press tent, I met a photographer for The Independent, who was incredibly nice, and talked to us for awhile. When he asked where we went to school and I said University of Missouri, he brought up POYi! So we talked about that too, and Mizzou's journalism tendrils extended all the way to a field in the English countryside.... we're everywhere! hahahaha... weird, but cool.
Now, it might seem like I didn't have fun, but I did, because it was a challenge journalistically, and the people I talked to were absolutely incredible (read: a little off their rockers, but devoted). I've said it before and I'll say it again, the part of my job as a journalist that I enjoy most is getting the stories of the people I talk to , and the interview process itself. It's exciting, and I often get the most unexpected answers out of people I expected to be rather boring. At Stonehenge, making sure I picked someone who could form coherent sentences or wouldn't get angry at me was another fun step in that story-gathering process.... but something I will never forget nonetheless. I really have very little recollection of how we got home that next morning; I was at the zombie-tired stage, and felt like I had been up for approximately 4 years. All in all, I was drained, but incredibly happy I'd asked to do the story. I got to touch the Stones, see rituals performed, and watch the sun come up (well, watch the sky get lighter, it was cloudy), at Stonehenge for the summer solstice; not many people get the opportunity to ever do those things, but for me, I could say that they were all in a day's (and night's) work. Pretty lucky.
Monday was rather uneventful, but Tuesday morning brought with it an early start and a trip out to East London's borough of Dagenham, and the beginning of the chain of events that would bring the week to its peak. The Sydney Russell Comprehensive School in Dagenham was the venue chosen for the first-ever exhibition of Khululeka, It's in Our Hands, a play to teach kids about AIDS and HIV, sponsored by Nelson Mandela's foundation 46664. Kaylin and I went to the school, watched the play, did some interviews of the cast, and, on our way out, were offered two tickets each to Nelson Mandela's Birthday Celebration concert. What amazing luck. I couldn't wait to go, and ignored the huge blinking sign that said "ETHICS BREACH" in my head. I would not miss out a chance to be a part of something historical just so I could be fair and balanced in my reporting of a play educating kids about AIDS and HIV. I mean, come on.
In the meantime, between Tuesday and the megaawesomeness of Friday at 6:30 pm London time, I kept busy at work by taking a boatride to Greenwich with Kaylin to get some interviews and video of the new Greenwich Observation Wheel, a new "competitor" to the London Eye. It was a bit smaller than I thought it would be, but was a really great way to get out of the office and out on the water for a bit on one of the most beautiful days I've seen in London so far. I'll be putting out a story along with Kaylin's video and photos, hopefully sometime next week. I've also done a few blogs on our News blog on North Korea's nuclear declaration and Italy's new plans to fingerprint Gypsy children, but on to the events of Friday, before I explode.
When you're standing as only one person in a crowd of 46,664, it's hard to grasp the enormity of the larger group. I realized this once I viewed this video of Queen and Paul Rodgers' performance last night. Beyond the physical massiveness of the concert, the emotional and historical context is just now sinking in as well. Maneeza, Emily and Jenni stood there along with me, and we not only saw some incredible performances by musical greats, but also witnessed what is thought to be the last public appearance of perhaps one of the worlds most beloved men of all time. We watched Mandela give his last public address and call to action.
I'll never ever forget that I was there, and I'll treasure my memories, photos and videos from that day forever. Again, what an amazing job I have and what incredible doors it opens up for me. I'm truly lucky.
On the more interesting side of things, Amy Winehouse performed "Rehab."
It was sad to see someone in such decline, but I couldn't help to chuckle as she sang a song so close to her own life at the moment, and was, frankly, astounded that she (or someone else) chose to sing that particular tune. Her eyes looked vacant and she erratically stumbled through her lyrics, but, I will give it to her, "Valerie," which she performed later, was quite a bit better.
Will Smith, the host for the evening, along with his wife Jada, joined the party and sang a mix of his song "Switch" and... get this, THE FRESH PRINCE OF BEL-AIR theme song. It was like a hug from Mandela himself.... almost. Simple Minds (who?) also played the song that plays at the beginning of The Breakfast Club (ohhh....), while Annie Lennox performed with a children's choir from Africa and Leona Lewis belted out a couple of songs, including "Bleeding Love." The Soweto Gospel Choir added a distinctively African flavour to the night by singing supporting vocals for many of the songs. Queen, as I mentioned before, was definitely the highlight of the evening and helped release some of the "we need to rock out" energy that had been pent up by the more chill Josh Groban and Eddie Grant. It was just an amazing evening, and the important part is that 46664 got the visibility for its mission and Mandela got the recognition for his life that he deserved. Incredible. I can't really express the gravity of it any better.
Still high on our experience of the night before, Emily, Maneeza and I headed off to the National Gallery the next afternoon and got to see some of the most famous works by Picasso, daVinci, Monet, Degas, Seurat, and countless others. I was most impressed and affected by the fact that I got to see, first hand, the works that I studied and analyzed just last semester. Picasso's "Sunflowers" and daVinci's "Virgin on the Rocks" were particularly special highlights. We then grabbed a yummy and quick bite in the crypt at St. Martin-in-the-Fields... where Maneeza told us tales..... in the crypt.... get it ? :) After the crypt we tubed it and walked over the Thames on Millennium bridge to see Merry Wives of Windsor at The Globe. It was hillarious, and a great way to end our cheap day of culture.
The most amazing thing about this week? The pricetag:
Seeing an exhibition of Bob Dylan's artwork: $0
Getting to Stonehenge and back: $0 (reimbursed)
Debut of 46664 play in Dagenham and meeting some amazing kids: $ 0 (reimbursed)
Seeing the Greenwich Observation Wheel and getting out of the office and onto the Thames: $0 (reimbursed)
A night at Nelson Mandela's historic birthday concert: $0 (comped)
Viewing the works of masters: $0, as all London museums
The memories from this week: Priceless.
Miss and love you all...
God Save the Queen! Or at least Nelson Mandela. (No joke this time). Cheers :)



