Old friends

Bastille Day, 2011

It was Neil's turn to meet up with one of his old friends, so I took the kids to one of my favorite spots in London, the British Museum. It's free; it's child friendly; it's a treasure trove for a history teacher!

Some of the artifacts seem like old friends now. Alex has had his photo taken at this spot for at least five years. His size is creeping up the side and will one day meet the paws of this Knidos Lion. "Where do you want to go next?"

Alex wanted to see the Rosetta Stone.

Eleni wanted to see the Egyptians. One of my favorite things about this visit was watching Alex lovingly lead Eleni around and teach her about the artifacts. She was mostly a willing student, but disappointed not to see a mummy. "Wait" he told her. We'll get there.

I wanted to visit the Elgin Marbles. This is one of my favorite pieces, Isis.

We didn't get to my other favorite, the Fates because a man walked into the room and said that there was a fire. Just like that. No bells, no shouting. Just, "This is a fire evacuation. Please exit here." We dreamed up all sorts of scenarios while we were escorted through the bowels of the British Museum.

We took this opportunity to have lunch around the corner from the museum. Our tribute to potatoes: Jacket potatoes, chips (french fries), and crisps (potato chips).

Back to the museum. No evident fire damage. Maybe it was just a drill? I spent my time following the the random explorations of the kids. We spent almost half an hour examining the Assyrians. One room is dedicated to a lion hunt and is full of every artistic variation on how to kill a lion with arrows.

We went upstairs to the Asian gallery. Alex and I were caught up in reading about some weaponry while Eleni wandered off on her own. We found her two exhibits away imitating Buddha poses.

Later, Neil was horrified when he learned how the kids then mimicked all sorts of Hindu Gods and Goddesses poses while Japanese tourists looked on (and even took photos of them). "They did that in the British Museum?" Yes, independently and earnestly.

If you aren't interested in seeing what lies beneath the wrappings of a mummy, scroll ahead. Eleni finally got her mummy viewing.

And so we wandered. In the theme of our Italian journey coming up in the next month, we found this painting by an unknown Ethiopian (1940) of the Battle of Adwa in 1896. It depicts the defeat of the Italians by Emperor Menelik II. Interesting that Menelik is shown in the top left hand corner like this...

...while his wife is shown in the bottom left corner like this.

I'll have to read up on this further, but I'm guessing that the depiction of the Italians in such a negative manner in 1940 made perfect sense in light of Mussolini's recent maneuvers.

Alex saw a sign for an Australian exhibit alongside this picture. He desperately wanted to see this painting by Sidney Nolan of Ned Kelly, a notorious outlaw of Australia who wore this Iron helmet.

We could have spent all day in the museum, but it's probably best that I did not put this to the test so I can live with the perfect memory of my time spent there with Alex and Eleni. I was bursting with enthusiasm by the time we met Neil in the garden outside.

A happy reunion and then we split up again. This time Neil and Eleni went one way (with the camera) and Alex and I went the other. Here is Eleni on the London Eye with Neil.

The pod you go round in looks like this:

Eleni's photography debut...

Meanwhile, because Alex and I walked over to the Imperial War Museum. Alex had visited this two years ago with Neil, but I had never been before. Wow. It really lives up to its name. Similar to my feelings of greeting old friends in the British Museum, Alex embraced the various modes of transport and weaponry. While tapping various parts of Monty's tank from the Battle of El Alamein, I heard Alex muttering to himself, "too weak" or "yes, this is strong enough." Alex led me through the maze of turrets, past the Italian Human Torpedo, and pointed out the Spitfire hanging from the ceiling with complete ease. And, I was at ease, too. He was perfectly content to consider how he would better these artifacts for his own battles, and I was detached enough from the tragedy of war to listen.

Things changed when we visited the exhibits. My dream of a Peace Museum overtook me in the human size, walk through it yourself trench warfare model, and then more dramatically in the Cold War exhibit. Among other images of modern war, you could not miss the video of bombs dropping on Vietnam, monks burning themselves, and children running from the effects of agent orange with the sounds of Jimi Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner played alongside. We couldn't visit the Holocaust or Crime Against Humanity exhibits because Alex was too young (you have to be over age 12 and 14 for the latter), but it was for the best. Believe it or not, Alex was weaponed out and, in strong contrast to my enthusiasm at the British Museum, I was in a miserable mood.

We met up with Neil and Eleni in the playground alongside the Thames and headed back to another of our old friend's home.