Tag Archive | St. Dunstan and All Saints Church

Sunday Mass at St. Dunstan’s, Ragged School Museum and Q. Elizabeth Olympics Park

Aug7

London

Breakfasting for a Change with Company:
It was lovely to wake up and have company at home–for if there is one downside to my being here in London, it is that I have started to feel a bit lonely. I believe it has to do with the fact that I am living in a house with a garden (as opposed to a flat) and it certainly seems like too much house for one person. Anyway, hopefully I will not feel lonesome for too long…
N & C were downstairs by the time I finished blogging and scouting information on the Internet about the places I wished to see today. When I joined them, they were tucking into cereal and tea. I fixed myself some coffee and got my own cereal organized. We chatted a bit over brekkie and then at 9. 45 am, I excused myself to go to church.

 Mass at St. Dunstan’s Church on Stepney Green:
When I lived in Holborn, one of the oldest churches in England, a Roman Catholic one–St. Etheldreda’s–was right at my doorstep in Hatton Gardens. Now that I am here at Stepney Green, one of the oldest churches in the county–an Anglican one–is just a hop away: the Church of St. Dunstan’s And All Saints, which has stood on this tranquil spot since 975 AD.
And there really is a place called Stepney Green (after which the entire neighborhood is named). It is a proper ‘green’ which is a central bit of open space usually around a church and ringed by houses–this was the medieval pattern of town planning. Stepney Green abuts the church property–a vast and impressive bit of green dotted with graves and mortuary monuments. Sung Mass was at 10.00 am and I was keen to participate in it. In keeping with my custom of going to a different church each Sunday that I live in London, this was my choice this week.
The main celebrant was a Nigerian Anglican pastor usually attached to the Royal Hospital in London which is a short hop away. There were about fifty people in the congregation. The inside of the church is antiquated and although it suffered severe bomb damage during World War II (as did the entire East End of London) which blew out every bit of stained glass window, it has been rebuilt and still manages to look older than a few centuries. I enjoyed the service very much. The sermon was particularly wonderful: the main theme was that it is necessary for us to “Invest in Eternity.” I loved the concept as delineated by the priest.  After Mass, there was coffee and biscuits and fellowship–all Anglicans churches follow this custom and it is something I have always appreciated. It gave me the opportunity to meet a few people–a teacher who lives in Mile End but teaches chemistry in a school in Rochester, Kent; one of the female church wardens who gave me a mini tour of the interior, explained the reason why Christ is depicted so unusually on the modern stained glass windows (blonde and without a beard). It is because the artist modeled him on the features of the pastor of the time (of the post World War II period) who had commissioned the new windows! The chemistry teacher is in-charge of the bell ringers and the church has a lively tradition of bell-ringing. So, before I left the church, I received an invitation to join the bell-ringers on Thursdays at 7. 30 and try my hand at learning how to ring them. Apparently it is far more complicated than you would think! I have every intention of going there this coming Thursday as I am always up for one more new experience.

Back Home and then Out Again:
I took the bus home to change into something more comfortable and to make myself a sandwich for lunch. My intention was to get to a most unusual museum in London and one that is probably very little known–The Ragged School Museum at Mile End. In past visits to London, I have either been based in the West or in Central London. I do not really know the East End well at all–I figured this would be a great time to get to know it. Research told me about this strange museum and since it is open one afternoon on the first Sunday of every month, I decided to get there today.

Visiting The Ragged School Museum at Mile End:
It was really easy to get there. I took the Bus 25 to Mile End Tube station (one stop away) and then followed directions to get to the museum. This took me to the Tow Path of Regent’s Canal (which was also one of the items on my To-Do List) and on a glorious morning with the sun on my back and a cool breeze on my face, it was just lovely to walk along the banks of the sea-green canal (green with algea), passing one of the locks (Johnson Lock) and a number of walkers, joggers, bicyclists, etc. In less than ten minutes, I was at the doors of the Museum.
So here is a bit of history about one of the city’s most unusual places: The Ragged School is so-called because most of the girls and boys who attended it were so poor that they arrived in rags. It was founded by a Rev. Thomas Barnardo (you have probably seen charity shops all over the country that still bear his name). He was the son of an Irish mother and a Jewish father and hoped to be a missionary in China. When he was refused a commission to get there, he ended up in the East End of London in the 1880s when the area was one of the most impoverished in the country. He was so broken at the sight of starving children–so many of whom worked as chimney sweeps and died young for their pains–that he devoted his life to setting up a school to educate them to equip them for a better life. He rented three buildings along the canal that had been abandoned because they were pronounced uninhabitable and, through local fund-raising, set up a school that offered the children two meals a day: a breakfast of bread and hot cocoa and lunch of bread and soup. It would be the only food the children would eat all day–which was why their parents encouraged them to attend. By renovating the building, he turned the basement level into a play area, the main level was the office and the top level was a single classroom.

Getting a Victorian Lesson:
I joined a short line of visitors standing at the entrance, five minutes before the opening time of 2.00pm, most of whom were children. They had arrived in time for the monthly Victorian ‘lesson’ that is taught by a Victorian class-teacher in an actual Victorian classroom–just as real Victorian children would have been taught in 1886. We were seated on benches with desks that opened up to become cabinets for books (we had similar desks in my school in India). The teacher told us that her name was Miss Perkins. She was dressed in Victorian garb with floor-length skirt, full-sleeved white high-necked blouse, her hair in a tight chignon, a pair of glasses on her nose and a hooked cane in her hand. When she got into character, you could have sworn you were whisked over a hundred years into the past. The cane was used for pointing to the board, to a map on the wall and to beat the desk to gain attention. Rev. Barnardo did not believe in corporal punishment and his teachers were, therefore, forbidden from using the cane on the children (Good for him! A man certainly far ahead of his times!)
During the next hour, Miss Perkins appointed monitors who presented us with slate boards, chalk and a small rag with which to wipe our slates. She taught us to copy the alphabet as it was written on the board with all the fancy Victorian curls and curlicues. She taught us Math (or as they say here ‘Arithmetic’) and she taught us Spelling. We were expected to sit up straight (no slouching) or else we’d be placed in a wooden back brace (which she showed us) for 20 minutes. If we fidgeted too much, the punishment was to place us in finger stocks (and she showed them to us too). Our names would be noted in the Punishment Book. She was strict and stern and did not smile at all. We had to stand to answer her, stand to wish her at the beginning and the end of the lesson. There was honestly very little difference between the protocol in her classroom and the protocol that had prevailed in my convent school in India in the 1970s–which explains why I disliked my school days so much!
What a brilliant experience it was! From the manner in which she went around the class to examine our hands (to make sure they were clean) to the way she addressed us and barked orders out at us, it was a totally amazing afternoon. The Museum is free and doesn’t get too many visitors–but if you are a Victorianist or if you are a child who wishes to regress into the past and find out, first-hand, what it might have been like to be poor and to have had the opportunity to study, this is the place to which you ought to go.
I then spent about 20 minutes more in the museum reading the exhibits carefully with my eyes misty with tears at the misery of those poor children. I learned so much about the poverty of the East End and the fact that so many of the children who studied at Barnardo’s school were then shipped off to Canada where they found work and made new lives for themselves. The school was marked as unsafe for use after the 1940s and was turned into a museum quite recently in order to preserve a Victorian slice of life in a neighborhood that became rapidly gentrified.
I was quite hungry by this time (not having eaten much after coffee and biscuits following Mass), so on my walk along Regent’s Canal on my way back, I pulled out my sandwich, found a shady bench in the park and ate my picnic lunch.

 Off to the Queen Elizabeth Olympics Park:
Since I was only one stop away on the Tube from Stratford where the Olympics were held four years ago and since this is the week of the Olympics in Rio in Brazil, it seemed apropos to get to the Olympics Park that has been named after the current monarch. I took the Central Line Tube for one five-minute stop, got off at Stratford and simply followed the teeming crowds to the Park.
The designers of the space have taken care to see that you part with some money along the way–for the Westfield (East) Shopping Mall joins the train station building and is packed with shops from huge department stores (like Marks and Sparks) and supermarkets (such as Waitrose) to small trendy boutique shops. On a lovely warm summer’s day, the crowds were thicker than flies with folks shopping, eating at the many chain restaurants that have sprouted up (including Danny Meyer’s Shake Shack) or walking towards or out of the Park.
Part of the Olympics Park itself has been turned into an amusement park with a roller coaster, swings, bouncy castles, etc. taking over one part of it. The Acelor Mittal sculpture by the British-Asian sculptor Anish Kapoor dominates the space–it is a contemporary Effiel Tower. It is now possible to take a ride along it on what has come to be known as The Slide. Tickets are available online but I did not see too many people from the spot from where I viewed it. The landscaping is wonderful with one side of the canal paved and the other turned into a green bank. The Aquatics Center is open to the public and people have become members for the use of the pool, the diving boards, etc. I caught a glimpse from the outside as the pool was closed today (much to the annoyance of the members who had come to use it). Buildings are mushrooming all over the area and very soon it will become one of the most upscale parts of the city. You can see the towers of Canary Wharf quite near at hand. It is pretty amazing what this part of London will shape into as the years go by.
I was very pleased that I made it to this area as I had wanted to visit for quite some time but had never gotten down to it. On the way back, I stopped at Waitrose to pick up cheese scones and cream cheese and at M&S for a special dessert that I love (Caramel Pecan Roulade).
I took the Tube back from Stratford, got off one stop later (at Mile End) and then took the 25 bus for just 2 stops to my home. I was inside the door by 6.30 pm. N and C had left and things were very quiet again. I got upstairs to my room and had a nice videochat with Llew and talked to a couple of local friends on the phone before I decided to get some dinner.
Tomorrow I shall get back to the salt mines–there is work to do in the British Library where I shall probably spend most of the day.
Until tomorrow, cheerio…

A Sunday of Free Meals–Stepney’s City Farm and St. Dunstan’s Church

Jul31

London

I had a dreadful night. Wracked by jetlag and possibly the caffeinated latte I had at tea-time yesterday, I was awake most of the night. When I did eventually fall asleep, it was in the early hours–and having set my alarm for 7. 30am so that I could leave for Mass at 8. 15, I didn’t really get enough sleep at all.

Off for Mass to St. Etheldreda’s Church in Holborn:
I have a soft spot for St. Etheldreda’s Church in Holborn for many reasons: it was my London ‘parish’ when I lived here; it is the oldest Catholic church in England (being the first one to revert to Roman Catholicism after the Protestant Reformation); it is bursting with historic detail (King Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I possibly worshiped here); it is where my dear friend and former neighbor Barbara starts every Sunday. I had made plans to meet her at Mass followed by a swift breakfast at her flat next door to the one I had once occupied.
I have yet to get to know bus timings in Bethnal Green where I now live. Banking on the bus getting me to the Tube station on time was not too wise. When it did roll in (after I’d waited about 20 minutes), I raced to the Tube, got one right away (fortunately!) and reached Chancery Lane Station from where I raced off to Ely Place to catch the 9.00 am Mass–I was about 2 minutes too late, so seated myself nondescriptly in the middle region. The congregation has certainly grown in the past 8 years and there are many families and babies to be seen. Good Ood Fr. Tom Deidun still holds the fort, the same lector continues to read faithfully every Sunday (I believe she is called Alison) and the stained glass window still does what it was supposed to do for Medieval congregations–it inspires me to pray to every saint featured in its collage. After Mass, Barbara and I reunited (always a great joy!) and off we trekked to Holborn Tube station for one of her other Sunday morning rituals–picking up the Sunday Times (of which I got myself a copy as well–for among other things, it provides the weekly TV program!)

Bountiful Brekkie at 7HH:
I met Tim, Barbara’s other half at brekkie at “7HH” (High Holborn) where he provided us with crispy croissants, the most delicious bacon (to make a sandwich with or, as Barbara put it, to “nibble” on–I did the former), butter, super sweet cherries,  white peaches and coffee. It was fun, as always, to catch up with my friends and to leave with a small present from Tim: a spray can of moth repellent (short story, but not important). It is my hope that we will meet again (perhaps over a meal in my home soon).

Discovering the Number 8 Bus Route:
I decided to take the Number 8 bus all the way back home to Bethnal Green but when I got nearer my vicinity, changed my mind to ride it all the way to the end of its route–at Bow Church–to enable me get my bearings. This allowed me to pass Victoria Park and the Canal whose tow path makes for a nice hiking route, spied the Acelor Mittal Slide Tower at the Olympics Park and finally got to Bow Church (closed but clearly very old and very atmospheric). My brainwave gave me a good sense of where the buses that ply through my new area will take me.
Just as impulsively, I took the Number 25 to get back home–this plies along Mile End Road–and ten minutes later, I was at Stepney Green Tube station which is the other one that serves my home’s location. Again, since I was carrying the diagram that Mine Host N gave me, I decided to explore Stepney–it was as good a time as any other and doing it before I got home seemed like a good idea.

Exploring Stepney Green–City Farm and St. Dunstan’s Church:
A few minutes later, I was at Stepney High Street attempting to find two places that N had drawn out: City Farm which reputedly has a nice cafe and what he called “Old Stepney Church”. Well, City Farm turned out to be a real farm–I had expected a Farmer’s Market! Imagine finding a fully functioning farm filled with pigs, goats, sheep, hens, rabbits, etc. right in the midst of the city of London! I am still in shock. The place is also filled with allotments–those plots of land that are tended by city folk who lack their own gardens and wish to try their hands as growing their own “veg”. Well, well, well. I had the nicest stroll through the pens as I watched kids pet the animals, feed them hay and food pellets and take in the sight of so many lush vegetable gardens brimming over with tomatoes and peppers and raspberry and blackberry canes that turned out the sweetest fruit.
Just when I was about to leave, I came upon a workshop/shed and made the sweet discovery that it was a day when three ‘green’ neighborhood organizations had clubbed together to provide visitors with lunch created from their organically grown produce. I was invited to wait for ten minutes as set-up continued. It wasn’t long before the lovely buffet of salads was opened to the public and I found myself holding a plate flowing with a corn, beans and red pepper salad, a green salad made with red lettuce and balsamic vinaigrette, a quinoa salad with oranges, chick peas and mango, a rice salad with boiled potatoes and lots of herbs for taste and flavor, a noodle salad with carrots and cukes. There were salted cashew nuts, lovely home-baked bread and mushroom pate and for dessert, a fruit salad with apples, grapes, peaches and blackberries. Seriously, I could not have eaten a more healthy or unexpectedly delicious lunch! We were all then invited to help ourselves to the surplus produce grown on the allotments and as I chose garlic, ginger, avocados, Bibb lettuce, a seed-studded loaf of bread and an olive loaf, I thought just how lucky I was to be fed lunch for free and be presented all these natural goodies!
The afternoon continued to present an embarrassment of riches–for right across the street was “Old Stepney Church” and since the door was wide open, I simply had to make a visit. Imagine my delight at finding out that it was the Church of St. Dunstan and All Saints which has stood at this site since 952 AD! It certainly wears its age on its sleeve. It is one of the churches that is referred to in the famous “Oranges and Lemons” poem about London’s old churches: “When will that be? say the Bells of Stepney.”
As I entered the church, a bunch of lovely old church ladies came to greet me and inform me that it was the afternoon of the Poppy Picnic–a fund raiser for descendants of British veterans of the Great War. Children had been told to bring their stuffed toys to church–these would be ‘parachuted’ down from the tower of the church to their waiting arms below. How charming a tradition is this? And as part of the picnic, the ladies had set out a real genuine Afternoon Tea–with every manner of cake and scones, split and spread with strawberry jam and a bowl of real clotted cream placed at the side. There was also a bowl of strawberries for those who preferred just strawberries and cream. I was invited to join in and as I made my donation, I moved to the front of the church for a prayerful visit.
Simply unable to resist the treats of the tea-time table, I helped myself to a slice of Victoria sponge and Chocolate cake and half a scone. As there was no lemon in sight, I opted for a coffee instead of the more traditional tea. As no one can do an Afternoon Tea like church ladies, the whole experience was homely, authentic and charming and took me back to the era of the TV series, Home Fires. So, as I left the church, it occurred to me that three meals of the day had been made available to me through the generosity of friends and London’s community events: breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea. As for dinner? Well, wouldn’t you just know it? I had an invitation to supper for later that day.
Laden with my Sunday Times and the bulging bag of fresh produce, I jumped into a bus that dropped me right outside my house–and ten minutes later, I was putting away my goodies and making my way upstairs for a nap. For lack of sleep was swiftly catching up with me and I needed to unwind after my lovely exploration of one portion of the East End of London. An hour later, having had some shut eye, I woke up, had a shower and headed off to my next appointment.

Supper with Fond Friends:
The District Line transported me to Sloan Square in Chelsea in about 20 minutes and by the time I was ringing the bell to Grosvenor Court where my friends Michael and Cynthia live with their son Aidan, I could barely contain my excitement at seeing them again. We spent the next couple of hours together catching up on so many things that have happened in our respective families and our lives. Cynthia provided one of her delicious meals after Michael placed a G&T in my hand. Over her superb roast lamb, mashed potatoes with gravy and mixed steamed veg (brocolli, squash and beans), with fresh berries, custard and ice-cream for pudding, the evening just rolled smoothly along. I picked up my UK phone (which Cynthia had been holding and using occasionally to keep my number alive) and then it was time to bid them goodbye before it turned too dark. Being that it is summer, there is light until about 9.00 pm, but until I get the lie of the land, they do not want me out too late–and quite sensibly too!
It was at 9.45 pm that I reached my door. There were still a lot of folks on the road (much to my relief!) and lots of cars along the street too. I videochatted with Llew, went in for a shower and sat down to blog.
It was an eventful day and, unbelievably, one on which I was fed every single meal (and quite deliciously too!) by generous Londoners! As this is the first time such a thing has happened to me, I do not believe that I will ever experience such a phenomenon again!
With the weekend devoted to easing into my new life and discovering my new neighborhood, I am ready to plunge into some work tomorrow. Bring on the working week…
Until tomorrow, cheerio!