Tuesday 1 December 2009

Graduation Aggravation

Well, it didn’t go off without a hitch, but the important thing is that it’s done. Like so many aspects of my time at Westminster, it was annoying and frustrating but actually wasn’t that big a deal, and everything worked out fine in the end.

I went early to check in, pick up the tickets and get “robed.” The check-in and tickets were fine, but when I went to the robing area I realised that I didn’t have the reservation number for my gown, hood and cap. The people from Ede and Ravenscroft gave me a number to call to get it, so I went back upstairs to try it – the Barbican is on several levels, most of which have poor to non-existent mobile reception. The people on the phone, who were (I guess) at the head office, couldn’t find my reservation at all. I will admit, I was pretty upset about this. I actually stamped my foot on the floor. I said, “I am really unhappy about this. I’ve paid £60 for tickets for my family to be here and now I may not be able to graduate because you’ve lost my reservation,” to which the woman on the phone replied, “We haven’t necessarily lost it; we just don’t have any record of it.” To which I replied, “Well, since I definitely made it, I’d say you lost it.” Then I said, “Thank you very much for all your help” – but I didn’t mean it! I didn’t actually think she’d been very helpful at all!

Anyway, I went back downstairs, where a very, very old (and really very nice) man told me that they always bring extra regalia so I could rent a robe, etc, on the spot. I’d have to pay again, but he would make a note of it and I could sort it out later. But they only took cash, and I hadn’t brought an extra £50 to graduation with me, so I had to go back upstairs to find a cashpoint. There was one in the building, but it charged £1.95 for a withdrawal, which I found deeply annoying. I eventually got back downstairs and the nice old man gave me a receipt that looked like something you’d find in Bob Cratchit’s wallet, on which he wrote in spidery handwriting “paid twice?”. They gave me a robe, which I think was too small, a hood and a cap.

From there on out, it was pretty smooth sailing. I ran into my friend Nigel and chatted with him and his parents for a while. Matthew and his parents showed up eventually and we all got seated without incident. I finally cooled down – I’d been overheated and was literally pouring with sweat throughout the whole lost reservation situation – and found my place among a few friends and lots of people I vaguely recognised from my classes. It was a tiny bit anti-climatic. We finished classes in March and I turned in my dissertation in August. I got my results in mid-October and even got my diploma in the mail a couple of weeks ago. So on the day, we listened to a couple of speeches, and then walked across a very wide stage to shake the chancellor’s hand. That was it. Then Matthew, his parents and I went to lunch at a cute, tiny gastropub nearby. It turned out that, after so much excitement, roast pork belly and chips was a bit too rich for me, and I had to go home and take a nap (though, to be perfectly honest, that was part of my plan for the afternoon all along).