Last Day in England

So the time has come to say goodbye to England. Driving back from our final game tonight, I was besieged by that bittersweet feeling that always pervades the ending of some great thing – an emotion that remains undefined by even the greatest writers. No words could adequately convey that sense of being caught between the solemnity of a conclusion and the freshness and purity of a new beginning. It was such a perfect evening for reminiscing, too. The steely blue of the late afternoon sky gave way to gray, misty mountains on the horizon. As pale green meadows, dotted with delicate yellow wild flowers, whirled by outside the window, the sun began its descent into the hills behind us; its departing rays cast a golden glow upon the land, giving the countryside a soft dreamlike quality. I know I’ve spoken openly about how beautiful I think England is, but quiet reverie evokes even more appreciation for those things that have already taken a hold of your heart.

……..later………….

It’s late now, and there’s a chill to the air that makes it seem more like September and less like May, but the night is clear and the sharpness of the breeze keeps me awake. For now, I sit quietly in the courtyard, listening to silence echo off the cobblestones. The sky above me is dark, but the stars are bright and they shine forth in the darkness, brilliant and luminous. Everything is so still. I feel that even the clicks of my keyboard are an intrusion on the peace that has befallen the cottages. My teammates are asleep, snuggled into their warm comforters and lost to the visions of slumber. But I’ve already decided I won’t sleep tonight. It’s something that I do occasionally, when I feel that a moment is too special to just let go of in an instant, too sacred and full of emotion to let sleep overtake me. I lie awake and soak in every last minute of time the night will give me, and in the morning, I offer up a prayer as I watch the sunrise. Obviously, I feel so blessed to have been on this trip, but tonight is so much more than that for me. You see, almost a year ago to the day, I was lying on the ground barely conscious, having suffered my first POTS attack. That night on my senior trip, my world came crashing down around me, and many times since I have wondered if I would ever step foot on a soccer field again. And now, in less time than it took the earth to make a full revolution around the sun, I was lacing up my boots to play on Everton FC’s official training ground against one of the best teams in England. I’m sitting in the courtyard of centuries-old stables, soaking in the glitter of the half moon far above my head. No, tonight is not for sleeping. Tonight is not for dreaming about things that may be. Tonight is for remembering how gracious our God is, and thanking Him as a new day dawns.  I have 8 and half hours to sleep on the plane tomorrow…

………….even later……….

It’s 4.21 am, and the sun is already rising steadily to greet the day with its light. The morning is stunningly clear, the crisp and pure as pours into the window, carrying with it the most beautiful melodies of the song birds. They call out their “good mornings” to each other in colorful and lovely tones, chirping and tweeting their bright notes. It’s amazing how much light is already seeping into the sky, and how alive the outdoors has become since I drew up a bath. I, too, am newly awakened with a fresh vigor, though I have not slept at all. How can I sleep, at such a time as this? No, I am eternally glad that I am here to see the last sunrise of my time in England, and later I shall greet the day myself out in the garden. There is something so sacred about this hour, when the earth once again becomes illuminated, and life is restored after its slumber in darkness. The dawn is God’s daily reminder that soon all darkness shall cease, and life eternal shall begin, and never end. One day, we will wake not to the light of the sun, but to the light of the glory of God, not to the songs of the birds, but to the songs of saints and angels.

Yes, I'm really an American.

Today was a pretty laid back day, which is good because I think all of us are getting a little tired. We had an early morning practice and then drove back out to Coventry to watch the FA Women’s Final, and Arsenal took home the cup with a well deserved 2-0 over Bristol. It was a pretty uneventful game, but it was really cool to see how stoked everyone was for a women’s game. There were over 13,000 fans, and even though that didn’t nearly fill the stadium, it’s a lot more than I expected, especially given that women’s soccer isn’t even as big here as it is in America (Not my own words, I got that straight from the Brits). Speaking of America, apparently everyone can tell we’re Americans, even from a distance and without having talked to us. I was always sort of suspicious of the fact that we got stared at a lot, but today when we were walking around a shopping mall waiting for the gates to open for the game, some girl just walks up to us and asks, “Are you really Americans?” Um…what? We weren’t talking, so she didn’t hear our accents. We weren’t in super obvious tourist clothes. We weren’t playing Yankee Doodle and waving the Stars and Stripes. Yet somehow, everyone seems to just know we’re Americans, and they think it’s strange to see us here – but whatever, it makes me feel a little special to be noticed! Just kidding, that was a little vain…I do find it funny, however, that she would ask if we're really Americans. No. I'm a fake American. I'm an imposter American from Argentina. I mean seriously?!

            My cottage helped cooked dinner again tonight, and our quesadillas and Spanish rice were a hit! See mom, I can cook…I just choose not to! I also had my first taste of British ice cream, though it wasn’t that much different than the stuff you buy in America. They had an ice cream truck outside of the mall, and everyone said their cones were really good, so I couldn’t resist. They tasted like the whipped cake frosting that you get at the store, but colder and creamier (the cone left a little to be desired, but since it was so cool looking – it was like a regular cone at the bottom, but two cones at the top – I think I’ll let it slide). I also got a sausage roll at the stadium, and that was pretty good, too, though not nearly as good as the English Breakfast yesterday! I’ve also found that I’m starting to really like Nutella, which I’ve haven’t eaten until my teammates bought it here for sandwiches. Looks like I’ll have to start buying it stateside, too.

            I’m starting to feel a little potsy, which sucks, but it’s not too bad. I think all of the driving and sitting/standing upright for so long is getting to me and my back and shoulders are cramping (blah coat hanger pain at its finest.), and I’m getting lightheaded quite often throughout the day. I just keep praying I make it through the trip without a migraine or really bad episode, because this trip has just been so awesome and I don’t want that to put a damper on it. I just keep holding on to words of Isaiah, “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They shall soar on wings like eagles (like eagles ya’ll, like eagles! Sorry…Remember the Titans…) they shall run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Like I’ve said in previous posts, that verse has never held truer for me than since I’ve had POTS.

            Anyway, tomorrow we’re going to practice in the morning again, and then take in the Aston Villa v Liverpool game, and hopefully it will be more exciting than today’s game!

My name is Amy Swearer, and POTS stole my life. I’m taking it back. (In England!).

And God saw that it was good...

Every so often, you have one of those days that just leaves you in complete awe of God. This was one of those days. Wales is absolutely beautiful! And not like “oh hey, look at that” kind of beautiful, but “drop to your knees in worship as your breath is sucked right out you and the majesty of God’s creation leaves you speechless” kind of beautiful. Even the language is gorgeous! Welsh kind of defies the laws of English grammar (though in the words of my British coach, the Welsh live to defy the English), but it’s as beautiful to listen to and look at as it is hard to pronounce. When we went out to lunch, the owner actually told us that if we could repeat, with correct pronunciation after only hearing it once, the name of the Welsh city with the most letters, then lunch would be on the house…well…considering the name of the town is Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwyll-llantysiliogogogoch…I think it’s safe to say there was no argument over who was paying for lunch. Nerd Warning – the English translation comes out to "The church of St. Mary in the hollow of white hazel trees near the rapid whirlpool by St. Tysilio's of the red cave." But it really is amazing to listen to, and every sign is in both Welsh and English. And fyi for everyone, especially my sister, I was not in “Whales.” I am not Jonah. I was not, nor do I have the desire to ever be, inside of a large sea mammal. I was in Wales. Thank you, your English lesson is now complete.

Even on the way to our destination of Gwynned, I wanted to take out my camera multiple times, especially when we passed a massive castle built into the side of a mountain. If you’ve ever seen the last two Lord of the Rings movies, it was a lot like the castles from the battle scenes, but cooler because it was actually real. When we got to Gwynned, we went straight to the main attraction – the castle by the sea. I didn’t realize that Caenarfon Castle is where King Edward I lived and where his son was born, and that’s why the crown prince has always been given the title “Prince of Wales.” Prince Charles had his title ceremony at the castle, and it’s likely that Prince William will do the same after his father becomes king. Though in some places of the castle, only a shell of the wall remains, we could walk up through the original rooms and climb the original towers to look out over the sea (not going to lie, the steps to the top were narrow, steep, and many. It was like climbing up a spiral ladder, but the view from the top was magnificent, and well worth the risk of serious bodily harm…just kidding mom…). We also walked around the town for a few hours and even though I swore I wasn’t spending any more money, I shelled out some pounds for more gifts for my family members. Sometimes, spending money on other people is worth being broke. More importantly, though, I ate my first full English breakfast (I know, I was in Wales, but I’ll take an English breakfast when and where I can get it!) …it. Was. Delicious. Honestly, it was so good that I’m pretty sure I almost died from the euphoria of having it in my mouth. Eggs, fried hash brown, bacon, fried toast, English sausage, black pudding, and beans. And yes, let’s be clear, I know that black pudding contains pig’s blood, as my teammates were so apt to point out, but in the words of Andrew Zimmern, “if it looks good, EAT IT!” It looked good, it smelled good, and it tasted good. So I did eat it. I’ll be darned it I came to Britain to not eat like a local! Also, I bought my first alcohol as a legal adult…calm down calm down…we all know that I don’t drink, and for good reason! A shop was selling the world’s smallest bottles of Scotch Whiskey…so I bought all .5 milliliters of it for my parents! I figured it was easier to take through Customs in Chicago than a bottle of wine…

After leaving Gwynnned, we drove back through the prettiest parts of Snowdonia National Park. Technically, we had been in Snowdonia the whole time, but we went up into the mountains a bit more to get a good look at the natural beauty of the area and take some pictures. We stopped in a valley town on the edge of a massive lake, and the mountains towered above us on all sides, reaching up into the heavens, the tops covered by clouds. I was awestruck by the pristine clarity of the lake water; you could see the rocks at the bottom, dozens and dozens of feet down. Everything was just so beautiful and so calm. I have no doubt that many a Welsh person has stood in that valley, looked up at the splendor of his country, and been filled with immense pride in where he is from – I know I would be if I were Welsh.

So now I'm sitting back at the cottages, eating birthday cake in honor of two of my teammates who are celebrating brithdays on this trip, and watching Titanic. Seriously, this has just been an awesome day.I’m running out of words to convey just how spectacular today was…there was just something about today that made me so…I don’t know…joyful. And I don't easily run out of ways to say things...So I wrote a poem. You don’t have to like it, but I figured I’d share it with you anyway…

You said, “Let there be,”

with words you formed the mountains;

your voice set their foundations.

From empty space you fused

hydrogen and oxygen

into crystal clear lakes,

and surrounded them with the beauty

of trees and flowers.

You formed man, and with your breath,

You gave him life.

How majestic are you, oh LORD,

Your creation is more than I can fathom,

how much more beautiful is the mind

that first imagined it,

how much more worthy the hands

that brought it forth?

Your glory is proclaimed throughout nature,

What you have made declares your splendor.

Let me shout it from the mountain peaks,

And let it ring out in the lowest depths,

“The LORD our God is awesome in power,

There is none like Him in all the earth!”

Glory be forever to the God who fashioned eyes

that can see His wonders,

ears that hear of the songs of His creation,

and hearts that can rejoice in His love.

Let all the earth together sing

“Glory in the highest,

glory to the LORD of all creation,

who said, ‘Let it be’

and it was,

and what was,

 was good.”

My name is Amy Swearer, and POTS stole my life. I’m taking it back. (In England!...and Wales!).

Yeah I'm all out of good titles...deal with it.

You want to know what’s really frustrating? Putting together 998 pieces of a 1,000 piece puzzle and finding out that the last two pieces don’t fit in the only two spots left!!! Haha Some of my teammates and I literally spent the past 3 days putting together a very intricate wildlife puzzle, painstakingly piecing together pandas and monkeys, laboring over bamboo shoots, and fighting over elbow room on the table. We made those last two pieces fit! (Nebraska Soccer – 1, Wildlife Puzzle – 0)

Well, today was a much better day than yesterday (though given that yesterday was miserable, having a better day wasn’t that hard to accomplish.). We had another late evening game, so we slept in and then went on a team walk and stretch. A few of us decided to go on a bike ride afterwards to find some cows…unfortunately, even though it seems like they’re always right along roads when we’re driving, we couldn’t find any that were close to the fences today. It’s really weird, but I’m finding that I like English cows a lot more than American cows. They’re a lot taller and thinner, and they almost look like horses sometimes. The baby cows are the best, though! They’re just so dang cute! (To answer your questions, yes, I do know that baby cows are called calves and yes, I did just refer to cows as cute. They may smell and I may turn them into a cheeseburger before I leave this place, but they are cute. Deal with it.) I did squeeze in time for a two hour nap before dinner! It was absolutely marvelous, and needed after a sleepless night fretting over the last game (I really should start following my own advice. I’m not very good at the whole “keep calm and carry on” thing.) Finally, we played Liverpool Ladies FC to a 3-2 win, which was really exciting because, well, let’s face it beating a professional team is just cool!

I know I don’t have a whole lot to write about tonight, but tomorrow should be a lot more exciting…we’re driving to Wales! (Scratch another one off the bucket list). Apparently we’re going to some castle on a beach, though I’m not sure which one, and then stopping to eat lunch in Snowdonia National Park (I know it sounds like I just made that name up, but Google it. That’s its real name.).

My name is Amy Swearer, and POTS stole my life. I’m taking it back. (In England!)

Keep calm and carry on

So this morning was a lot of fun! We drove out to the city of Chester, which dates back to when the Romans were in this part of Britannia and was actually one of the most important Roman cities in the area. The wall that they built around the garrison still stands, along with some of the original gates, and you can walk through the city atop the wall. There’s also the ruins of an amphitheatre and the gardens within the walls, as well as live archeological digs in the middle of town. It was amazing to walk on the walls, especially because it’s like a whole new level of the city. They wind right through the streets and buildings sit up right next to them – some even have doors that open up onto the wall! It was truly something I’ll never forget.

I thought this was going to turn into another London-like fiasco (all of my time gets spent in stores that we have in the U.S. because everyone wants to shop) but finally me and another of my teammates had enough of the Nike store after we saw a shirt that said “Made in Beaverton, OR.” I’m from Vancouver, WA right across the river, and that was it for me. I’m in England, gosh darn it! So the two us walked along the walls and took pictures for the rest of the time. We found two absolutely stunning cathedrals, a river, and amazing bridges. There was a castle somewhere outside of the city, along the part of the wall that had been destroyed. We tried do hard to find it, but came up empty…but it’s about the adventure, not the destination! If it hadn’t rained the whole time, it would have been a perfect morning. I even got a laugh in because there was a donut shop built into the wall called “Dinky Donuts” and all I could think of was my dad and his love of Dunkin Donuts!

This afternoon we played the Nantwich Town FC boy’s team…they might have been 15, but they were good. They were fast, strong, and overall just talented. We ended up losing 6-3, but we started off in the hole 4-0. I played 20 minutes, and I won’t lie, it was one of those nights I just want to forget. It happens. Life goes on. I only gave up one goal, but I couldn’t get my feet to work to save my life. Frustrating, frustrating, frustrating. But the good news is that I’m in England, playing soccer, seeing walled Roman cities, and tomorrow I’ll wake up and still be alive. So if you’re also having one of those types of days, here’s a British saying for you – “keep calm and carry on!” Don't freak out about it, just keep going!

My name is Amy Swearer, and POTS stole my life. I'm taking it back. (In England!).

If she comes in your box, HIT HER!

Well, the official score yesterday was Bristol – 4 Husker Soccer – 2, but the actual score was a 2-2 draw. I’m not usually one to rip on the refs, but when the “linesmen” are members of the team that you’re playing and two of the goals that are scored on you were so far offside that you could have fit a semi-truck in between their forward and our last defender (slight exaggeration, but only slight…), then you know you’re getting hosed. They were also a pretty dirty team…two of our players almost had their legs broken from straight leg cleats up tackles. But I do feel bad that one of their girls tore her ACL in the final minutes, even though I’m pretty sure that some of my teammates still wanted a fight after the game. In fact, when  I subbed in, my centerback told me "If she comes in your box, hit her!" When I asked what number girl, she said, "ANY OF THEM! Just hit 'em hard!" haha it was one of those kinds of games...I played the final 20 minutes again, and it went very well. Didn’t give up any goals and took a girl out on a breakaway save (a bit of retaliation for some of their antics, but it was a fair challenge and I got the ball…she just happened to eat a little turf afterwards). But all in all it was a good game played under terrible windy/rainy conditions on a relatively small field.

Today we went into Manchester to do some shopping in probably the biggest mall I’ve ever been in…and it was awesome (even though I’ve just about reached my spending limit). I got some awesome Manchester United gear and some gifts for people when I get back to the states, and it was just fun to walk around in the town. The thing that I’ve noticed about these cities that makes them so different from cities in the U.S. is the mix between centuries-old buildings and super-modern buildings. Literally, they sit one next to the other and it’s like one minute you’re looking at 14^th century architecture and the next you’re seeing space-age like skyscrapers.

Random other things that happened…

-          We went for a walk around the lake, and some crazy teammates of mine went for a quick dip in the water, even though it’s like 45 degrees and raining!

-          Saw some gypsies walking down the road yesterday…it was kind of weird. They had (really pretty) horse drawn wagons and were just meandering down the two lane street with about 20 cars trying to pass them. I’ve never seen anything like that before.

-          Had a guy come up to us today out of the blue and ask, “Hey are you guys Americans? Cool!” and then he proceeded to ask us random questions and talk to us about random things for 5 minutes…apparently we’re an oddity around here.

-          Moving cottages today! Going from Stapleton to Empress with 4 new teammate/roomies…kinda stinks that this new one only has 1 bathroom for all of us, but I’ll live. Somehow. Someway. We’ll live. Also, I have no idea where any of my stuff is now because I just kind of threw it into my bag and dragged it over haha…it’s going to be a long night!

-          Had “cottage pie” for dinner tonight (so basically, shepherd’s pie, but English sounding). It was alright…but not as good as meat and potato pies at the stadiums!!!

My name is Amy Swearer, and POTS stole my life. I’m taking it back. (In England!).

Come on you Blues!!!!

Final Score – Birmingham Ladies FC 2, Husker Soccer 1.

Obviously, it’s disappointing to lose, but honestly we were the better team the second half and easily could have put in 2 more goals. Their keeper blocked a penalty shot and had an amazing save in the final 10 minutes, otherwise we might have won. The first half was rough; we were a little intimidated and not used to such a high level of competition (let’s be honest, our Spring Games weren’t exactly against professional level teams) and gave away two cheap goals off of miscommunication and defensive blunders. But for a team that was at the top of the league and featured former starters for the English National Team, I’ll say a 2-1 loss with a very solid second half isn’t too shabby (certainly not “getting our $#&%! kicked liked the guy at the airport suggested). I played the final 25 minutes and did pretty well, and even got a nice turf burn out of it (GET SOME!).

           

Nerd Warning

We didn’t actually play in Birmingham, but in Stratford-upon-Avon. If that doesn’t sound familiar, then it’s because you didn’t pay attention in any of your English Literature classes – it’s where William Shakespeare was born! I was actually really excited about this, and the town looks like Shakespeare should have been born there – lots of vintage 14^th and 15^th century stone churches, bridges, and houses that just scream “Ye Olde England Towne.” Also, a lot of the houses say things like “Shakespeare’s father born in this house” or “Shakespeare’s friend born here” or “In this spot in 1573, Shakespeare’s uncle’s cousin’s friend’s neighbor’s dog got hit by a horse drawn carriage…”

After the game, we travelled into Birmingham to watch them play Fulham, which was really sweet because I got to see Clint Dempsey from the U.S. National Team play. Fulham pretty much dominated the game and won 2-0, which meant that we were subjected to plenty of new English phrases from the Birmingham fans. Some of them were pretty mild, like “Come on you Blues!” and “Oh what are youse doing!” (with “doing” pronounced with a very hard g at the end). Some of them, however, were a little more, shall we say, crude. Some of favorites – From the Fulham fans (sung) “I want to go home, I want to go home, this place is a $#!%hole, I want to go home” …and the inevitable response from the Blues fans – “Then f%#@ off ya bloody wankers!” it was quite entertaining, actually.

On the POTS side of things, I found out another little tidbit of information that makes my whole life make a little more sense. Apparently, a lot of us suffer from “coat hanger pain,” or pain and tightness that runs down the neck and shoulders and crosses the back underneath the shoulder blades, kind of in the shape of a hanger. I always used to just assume that my back and shoulders were so sore and knotted up all the time because of soccer and training, but a lot of it could also be that when I stand up for long periods of time, poor circulation above the heart means that those muscles get starved of blood and tighten/cramp up, causing the pain and knots. That’s interesting to know, especially because it’s ice, not heat, that’s supposed to make it better in the long run, because heat actually opens up the blood vessels and makes circulation worse.

Another random tidbit of information – English drivers are crazy and driving etiquette here is completely different than in the U.S. If you’ve ever been in a situation where a ton of cars are all trying to get out of a crowded space and people are merging into the same place, like the outside of stadium parking after a big game, then you should know that in the U.S. the unspoken rule is that you go every other car, rotating around the different merging lanes. There is some method to the madness, and generally if you make it obvious that you’re trying to merge or switch lanes, then pretty soon someone recognizes it and lets you in, knowing that karma will see to it that someone let’s them in the next time they’re in that situation, and you give them that little thank you wave and head nod gesture of goodwill. There are also usually some traffic lights or traffic cops to help alleviate some of the chaos. Well, apparently in England, neither of those two things happen. Coming out of what amounts to the RedSox playing the Yankees at the end of the regular season, and in parking lots no more than 100 yards from the stadium, there were no paved lines, no traffic cops, and no traffic lights for thousands of cars trying to merge onto a two lane road. And in England, it’s every man for himself. Literally. People see you trying to merge, and they give you an evil glare and get right up the next person’s bumper so that there’s no way you can weasel yourself in. They honk and speed up and generally weave and inch their cars so close together in an attempt to win the parking lot war that I swore it was bumper cars. It took us almost an hour to get out of the parking lot, much less out of town. CRAZY! Also, one of our British coaches explained the whole  highway traffic circle “why didn’t they just put in exits like normal countries” thing….and it actually makes sense. Basically, all of these places were here long before the roads and cars, so the traffic circle was the only way they could get roads to split to different places without having to pave brand roads, because the dirt roads to the cities and towns just gradually were built over hundreds of years and they just had to adapt to cars as best they could.

So now we’re just chilling in our cottages eating pizza (yeah our coaches bought us all frozen pizzas because we got back so late and they didn’t want us to have to really cook…never thought I’d see the day!) We’re about to watch Shawshank Redemption, and then sleep in tomorrow. Game against Bristol Ladies FC at 7 pm, GO BIG RED!