Day 6

The sun made a brief cameo appearance during lunchtime today, sending us all slinkng like pudding-bellied tabbies out to the front porch. Finished my Amis, which I enjoyed thoroughly (where has he been all my life?) and tore through Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire which I've been wanting to read/see for a while. Otherwise, time here continues to be a blacmange: homogenous, viscous, yet sweet. Everything here is langorous: it's not just that nothing happens, but no one expects anything to happen. A couple of days ago, I got to see one of the few turtles (120 years old) that actually came originally from the Galapagos Islands (the one, incidentally, in that famous picture with Shirley Temple riding on its back) - and his existence typifies, no, exemplifies the Bermudian way of life.

Classes-wise, I'm quite chuffed with the fact that all our instructors are British, since it means that for once, all my classmates are the ones who are fish out of water. We deal in kilometers, celsius, pavements and the letter 'zed' now, and I stand triumphantly spanning two continents, translator for those unschooled in the use of "real" English. There is a certain pride one feels in being a citizen of the world, but it has only really come to the surface here, at a place that has both British and American influence, but really is entirely unlike either.