In the past six months, my academic pursuits have taken me far from the comforts of my home tower. Over the summer, I did math research in New Haven, CT, and I spent the fall studying at a math program in Budapest, Hungary. Now, you will find a change-ringing band in neither of these cities. In fact, you won’t find a change-ringing tower in all of Hungary. Why would you? In light of this, the events which ensued are quite shocking: I rang on handbells weekly, for several months, with bands cobbled together from my mathematical cohorts!

The New Haven outcome is relatively easy to explain. One of my colleagues played the Harkness Tower carillon, and she told me about a forgotten set of Malmark handbells we could borrow. I was thrilled! In my two years of change ringing, I had only rung in hand a few times, but I figured that I could squeak by enough to teach people the basics.

I convinced some of my colleagues to try it out, and over a summer’s worth of weekly practices, I introduced about a dozen people to ringing! Several of them got up to plain bob minor by the end. When our research program sent us to a conference in New York, I even convinced several people to join me at the Trinity Church practice. My mathematically-minded colleagues were easily convinced to try ringing, and they learned quickly - every person I taught was able to hunt a coursing pair by the end of their first lesson.

After a very successful summer of ringing in New Haven, I mused that I could also set up a band in Budapest, since I would again be surrounded by mathematicians, mostly also American students studying abroad. But unlike in New Haven, I did not magically happen upon a set of Malmarks. And without Yolande Hasselo’s mention of “kiddie bells” in last summer’s Clapper, my hopes of fall ringing would have ended at that. Instead, inspired by Yolande’s articles, in early September I ordered a cheap set of handbells. The $30, rainbow-colored, almost-in-tune set of bells arrived in Budapest a week later, and that very day I gave a quick lesson to four of my classmates.

In the semester that followed, I quickly became “the bell guy.” I ran an average of two practices per week, and had roughly one “newbie” at each lesson. In all, I gave first lessons to a total of 32 people - over half of our study abroad program! Half of those people came back for more lessons, and three people became weekly regulars. One of those regulars, Skyler, taught a lesson of his own as an interactive presentation for his “Math in Art” class. I made a ringing pilgrimage to London with Skyler and another classmate during the fall break, and in November I gave a formal mathematical presentation to our entire program on the structure of plain bob. That presentation was well-attended by students and professors, ringers and non-ringers alike, and it prompted a new batch of ringers who joined us in the last month of the semester.

So, yes, I was certainly “the bell guy.” It was so rewarding to see such a large community grow so quickly, and I wanted to share my realization that such growth is truly possible, even if your band starts from nothing. Now, I know that most of the people I taught will never think to touch a bell again, but several people (even non-ringers!) have asked me about visiting towers back in the US. So if someone shows up at your practice this spring and says they first encountered ringing in Budapest, of all places, you’ll know their backstory.

Thanks again to Yolande for mentioning kiddie bells - much joy has come about this fall as a direct result.

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