three years. twelve pieces of coursework. nine exams. fifty-four essays.
In the immortal words of Jesus himself, 'It is finished!'
This week's selfies make up for a month of absense - here i am soaked in Champagne after my last exam ever (well, unless i go crazy and become a postgrad.)
Last weekend i had the immense privilege of coxing the 'Woman's eights head of the river race' on the Thames. It was without a doubt THE most terrifying, but most fulfilling moment of my short coxing experience.
For those of you who don't know what it entails, the race is a 7.5 km (15k there and back!!) international competition along the river Thames. It follows the route of the Oxford/Cambridge boat race but instead of just two crews, the river is littered with over three hundred woman's boats. Its a logistical nightmare but an incredible experience.
For you to get a flavour, heres a short clip from the Thames rowing club this year:
As the cox, i am the feisty lady steering and motivating those poor exhausted woman in the boat and, trust me, by 6km rowing against the Thames' choppy waters those girls were tired.
Our day started at 5am. It did not start particularly well. In my sleepy state i grabbed a bag of raw bacon out of the fridge, instead of my sandwich! I felt very silly come lunchtime when, instead of my lovingly prepared chorizo sandwich, all i had to eat was raw back rashers that had been sitting in the sun ha!
Nonetheless, after very nearly missing our taxi we made it to the station and started the long journey to the river. Typically, the whole victoria line was out of action so after some nifty iphone route-planning, we finally made it to the WRONG boathouse where all our boats and coach nowhere to be seen.
We assumed that at this point, all our misfortune would have been used up and went about rigging the boats for the race. Unfortunately, no one connected the two wires that connected the microphone to the speakers. Cue some very panicked fumbling about in the boat moments before the race was due to start, and some very difficult marshalling.
Despite all the set backs, my girls raced beautifully. Here they are in all their glory:
Copyright: Jet photographic, Cambridge.
(and there's me, in my bright pink waterproofs and some bedraggled wet hair!)
Amazingly, we managed to complete the course in 25mins!!! And jumped up nine rankings in the process. (thats a big deal!) I honestly could not be more proud of these ladies and their dedication.
We rowed home completely unaccompanied. There were no marshalls and no instructions, just the calm abandoned waters of the river Thames. Naturally we sang disney songs and took it in turns dropping out of the stroke to eat mint cake.
Heres a glimpse of our journey home:
Unfortunately, we couldn't rest for long. Saturday night marked the end of the woman's racing season and so we had to scrub up in record time to attend Boat Club Dinner. For the most part it was a civilised affair, with profiterole swans and plenty of port.
Excuse the iphone quality. Blame a very drunk captain of the boats.
However, soon the lack of sleep and wine caught up with us and our night descended into this. It was unfortunate, but somewhat inevitable ;)
Please put down your work, essays, children or whatever else is occupying your hands at this moment and watch this film.
Its 29mins, but please do not be tempted to skip. It is so important. Use it for procrastination if that works for you.
It has become so easy in our modern world to have become desensitised to issues such as this but these children matter. They matter to me, and i surely hope that they matter to you.
Disclaimer: To be clear, i do not wholly support Invisible Children's way of going about this. These reservations are based on allegations to do with their chosen military strategies. However i do believe that trying to help is better than sitting back in our comfortable lives and doing nothing. I also think that awareness of these children's plights can not be a bad thing. Just please read both sides of the story and make up your own mind, before giving any monetary donations or supporting their cause beyond raising awareness.
Today is the day many of us celebrate love. So whether you are someone who can't get enough of valentines, or even if you hate it, why not send some love today in a real, practical and life-changing way.
Did you know that 70% of those in the worst poverty are women? That more than half a million beautiful women, just like you and me, die in childbirth and pregnancy every year? That gender based violence is responsible for more deaths in women aged 15-44 than malaria, cancer, traffic accidents or war?
These women are important, they are significant. These issues matter.
The 139 project was set up and run by my good friend Geni, in partnership with Tearfund, to raise awareness of some of these issues, to be a voice for these women and most importantly, to show them that we care.
So please, if you have a spare couple of minutes, it would be awesome if you could raise your voice too, and really make a difference this valentines day.
Heres how it works:
1.Visit the 139 project facebook page.
2. Take a photo of yourself holding up your message of support.
[[example A]]
Your message can say anything, and in english or your native tongue. Some possible messages could be: You are worth it, we are thinking of you. I admire you. etc..
3.Upload your photo onto the facebook newsfeed.
4. Spread the message.
The photos will be knitted into a giant, beautiful and organic web of wool - a striking art piece and a loud statement of how much we care - and hopefully it will get as much media attention as possible.
The photos will then be presented to the UK government as a petition to focus on achieving the Millenium development goals relating specifically to women, you can find out about those here.
Finally, and perhaps most excitingly, the art piece will be chopped up and sent around the world to groups that have close contact with the women we want to help, so that women in poverty all over the world can receive messages from hundreds of strangers telling them they are not forgotten.
