May Morning in Oxford
When I was a child in Sturgis, Michigan, I made small baskets out of construction paper and glued on the handles. On May morning, I took the baskets out to the woods behind our house and filled them with spring beauties and violets. Then, I hung them on the doors of our neighbors, and of course, saved the best one for my mother. May morning was a magical time, even if I was the little fairy making the magic happen.
The earliest accounts of May Day refer to the practice of going out into the countryside to gather flowers and greenery to “bring in the May.” Branches and blossoms were used to decorate homes in celebration of the return of vegetation in Spring. Although the Christian church tried at various times to suppress the pagan celebration that was associated with the Roman goddess Flora, when the weather turns fine again, May Day celebrations are just irrepressible.
May Night Ball
As you may recall from my last newsletter, Victor was confined to his house because of an eye injury resulting from a bicycle accident. So, I decided to celebrate May night with my friends from Keble. The celebration kicked off with an MCR barbecue on the lawn in Hayward Quad. The second-year grad students warned us to go easy because we were going to be up all night.
Around 8:00 p.m., we staggered a couple blocks to a May Ball at Linacre College. This was not a fancy dress ball; it was a 1980s disco night: “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” (Whitney Houston), “With or Without You” (U-2), and the absolute favorite “La Isla Bonita” (Madonna).
Taking tickets at a table was a familiar face—Moses Chilufya, the gold wire-rimmed president of the Africa Society, whom I had met in the Lamb & Flag passage on the rainy night when I was with Victor during Hilary Term. He recognized me. I motioned my friends to go in and stayed behind to talk to him.
“I forgot that you were at Linacre. Have you heard any news about Victor?”
Moses smiled. “I went to his room today. He said that his American girlfriend had come to see him and she was crying.”
“How could he tell I was crying if he couldn’t see?”
Moses shrugged.
“What do you mean AMERICAN girlfriend?”
“Oh, you don’t know about his English girlfriend?”
I sank down in the chair beside him. He looked concerned.
“Wait, wait here, I’ll get you a beer.”
I could hear the crowd in the background and the song “Oh, I just died in your arms tonight / It must've been something you said” (Cutting Crew). Everything made sense. The secret relationship, where we could only meet in his room or mine (usually on week nights), supposedly so that K.P. would not find out about us, served another purpose. That is why he told me not to visit him.
But, maybe, Moses was cleverly trying to separate us. I had not been crying at Victor’s room. Which one of them had fabricated that story? Moses returned with the beer, asked me about my work, and offered to help me with the French translations that I was doing for my dissertation. Since he was a linguist, I readily agreed (though there may have been other reasons why I wanted to see him). When someone came to relieve him at the ticket table, we went in and danced.
May Morning
Around 5:00 a.m., Moses and I walked down St. Cross Road to Longwall Street, then turned on the High Street toward Magdalen Bridge for the May morning celebration. It was still dark and chilly, but already a crowd was gathering on the bridge. The carousing of the night had died away and a solemn anticipation animated the thousands of people pouring into the area.
We stood near the gate of the Oxford Botanic Garden. I couldn’t see anyone in Magdalen Tower, but at sunrise, the crowd fell silent and you could hear the Magdalen College choir sing “Hymnus Eucharisticus,” followed by a prayer.
All the bells in the city were ringing for about 15 minutes as the crowd dispersed down the High Street with cheers and dancing. Moses and I went to Radcliffe Square to see the Morris dancers.
But I was fading fast, having been up all night. So, this is how you spend May 1.
If you would like more information, there is an entire website devoted to May Morning in Oxford, click here.
Wow, I love all the old Hustle music. I remember dancing to those beats in 1980...