I've been feeling crummy almost all day today because I inadvertently bought bologna (disgusting!) instead of ham...and had no other sandwich for lunch; so it left a queasy sensation in my stomach for hours. Then that feeling went away, and I had a chicken kiev...but that didn't sit well either (it was full of bacon and cheese instead of chicken and butter...didn't expect that either!). I guess I didn't do a very good job of reading labels this week at the store. Oh well. I threw away the bologna since even my roommates said, "Oh don't eat that! It's nasty!" Now I have regular ham for tomorrow...yay!
Radio was good and not-so-good. I pre-recorded a few segments for radio, pretending to be an NPR correspondent. It took about an hour to record seven minutes, but so is the nature of pre-recorded radio! And not so good--lots of kinks with the show, but those in the office seemed to like it, so maybe I'm just being hard on myself. The good part about radio is there's always another show, this week on Thursday.
And I can't escape the feeling that laundry days are terribly unproductive. By the time I sit down to do work between washing and drying or drying and retrieving, I have maybe five minutes of productive work time. That's sure better than smelling bad in cramped classrooms, though!
Okay -- off to be productive now that laundry is done.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Hello! It’s been too long, I know. Sorry about that.
I write to you from my couch, with wireless Internet! The speed of the network here at my accommodation is painfully slow (we have a high-speed cable, but it transfers data at the speed of dial-up!). Today, I bought a broadband package from a mobile carrier here, and with the help of a small USB-flash drive, I can get wireless, high-speed Internet almost anywhere in Galway and Ireland. I am hopeful, too, that Skype will work more efficiently now, so that I’m not paying exorbitant rates on calling cards!
Since my last update, life has improved considerably! I have co-hosted several editions of “Flirt Over Coffee” on Flirt FM 101.3, our current affairs programme. The podcast of the shows on which I participate is available at http://foc.mypodcast.com -- there is a link to subscribe via iTunes.
That’s been a fun experience, mostly because of the people who work at the station with me. Emma and I have hosted several shows together, and it’s nice that she, the station manager Paula, and programme controller Louise let me try new things at each show. When I started, Paula told me that they didn’t really need help with the hourly news headlines, but one day I asked if I could write and perform them, and she had absolutely no objections! It was fun not just pretending to be Karl Castle from NPR, but to actually try my hand at what he does on the air! Some things didn’t go quite so well the first few times – such as referring to Kofi Annan as Former UN Secretary Colin Powell, or not being able to pronounce the name of several members of Parliament, but on the whole I enjoyed it. Friday, the second time performing the headlines, went much more smoothly, I think!
I didn’t realize how tough it would be at first to do a current affairs show in a foreign country. When talking about American politics, I realize that I take for granted knowing things like who Margaret Spellings is (Secretary of Education), or how a bill becomes a law, who the opposition party in government is, etc. Here, though, each show I have to ask how to say some word (for example, the Irish version of a Prime Minister is a Taoiseach—“Tee-shook”). But I’m learning, and each show is easier to do, so long as there is news about which to talk! A slow news day is a bit easier for a newspaper to print less pages – on radio, we still have 30 minutes of airtime to fill!
More than radio, though, my parents came to visit last week on their way to Dubai. It was very nice to see them—almost more so than I had expected. I only really had the chance to have dinner and breakfast with them, but when they left, I felt real empty inside. Maybe it’s just that I don’t much like change, so when that feeling of home came back, I didn’t want to let it go.
Now, though, I have lots of essays to keep me busy for the six days until Becky comes to visit. Time should fly by quickly, though, from here: one week until Becky comes, then Amsterdam, then a weekend in Galway, then Belfast, then Dublin, then final exams for a few weeks, and then home! I’m regretting having booked myself so full of trips, for I have a lot of reading and writing to do; but at the same time, I know that I’d regret it in January if I didn’t go on these trips.
Finally, last weekend I went on a tour of the Aran Islands, just off the coast of Ireland’s west coast. Normally the trip would cost about €40, but I went with 80 international students as part of the International Students Society, so we each got bus fare, ferry fare, and bike rental for €16! Not bad at all! I was nervous before going on the trip, for I didn’t know anybody else who would be going. I decided to take a risk, though, and go anyway. Within a few minutes of waiting for the bus, I saw Molly—in my Irish class—and teamed up with her and her friends. The best way to see the island (specifically, Inis Mór—“In-ish-more”) is by bike, according to travel books and others who have gone. I was nervous about biking on my own, for people drive on the left, drivers are much more aggressive here, and I didn’t know what visibility would be like on the roads. Molly agreed to try a tandem bike, but when we got to the island we realized that wouldn’t work. Becky could explain this better than I could, but the physics require that the bigger person be on the front of the bike, and sadly I was the bigger person meaning that I would have to steer and brake…defeating the purpose of having a tandem bike! After trying to convince the bike guy that I really could bike on my own safely because I would be with the group, I got a bike that switched gears on its own and whose brakes were quite poor. Sadly, I didn’t realize this until we were about 20 minutes away from where we started! Molly kindly went back with me to return the bike, and it took another 20 minutes for us to re-convince the bike rentals person that we would be fine. On our way we went, and had a great time biking across the entire island and up to an ancient fort…supposedly the highest, most-Western point of Europe—though I haven’t been able to confirm that yet. It had to be about ten stories off the ocean, though, and we had a great lunch on the rock ledge! (I should point out, too, that was my cheapest lunch I’ve had in Ireland – just €4 for a great, fresh sandwich and a bottle of water…though I did bring my own sandwich too; that’s how hungry I was, but then again, when do I not eat two sandwiches!)
Well that’s all for now – thanks for reading!
I write to you from my couch, with wireless Internet! The speed of the network here at my accommodation is painfully slow (we have a high-speed cable, but it transfers data at the speed of dial-up!). Today, I bought a broadband package from a mobile carrier here, and with the help of a small USB-flash drive, I can get wireless, high-speed Internet almost anywhere in Galway and Ireland. I am hopeful, too, that Skype will work more efficiently now, so that I’m not paying exorbitant rates on calling cards!
Since my last update, life has improved considerably! I have co-hosted several editions of “Flirt Over Coffee” on Flirt FM 101.3, our current affairs programme. The podcast of the shows on which I participate is available at http://foc.mypodcast.com -- there is a link to subscribe via iTunes.
That’s been a fun experience, mostly because of the people who work at the station with me. Emma and I have hosted several shows together, and it’s nice that she, the station manager Paula, and programme controller Louise let me try new things at each show. When I started, Paula told me that they didn’t really need help with the hourly news headlines, but one day I asked if I could write and perform them, and she had absolutely no objections! It was fun not just pretending to be Karl Castle from NPR, but to actually try my hand at what he does on the air! Some things didn’t go quite so well the first few times – such as referring to Kofi Annan as Former UN Secretary Colin Powell, or not being able to pronounce the name of several members of Parliament, but on the whole I enjoyed it. Friday, the second time performing the headlines, went much more smoothly, I think!
I didn’t realize how tough it would be at first to do a current affairs show in a foreign country. When talking about American politics, I realize that I take for granted knowing things like who Margaret Spellings is (Secretary of Education), or how a bill becomes a law, who the opposition party in government is, etc. Here, though, each show I have to ask how to say some word (for example, the Irish version of a Prime Minister is a Taoiseach—“Tee-shook”). But I’m learning, and each show is easier to do, so long as there is news about which to talk! A slow news day is a bit easier for a newspaper to print less pages – on radio, we still have 30 minutes of airtime to fill!
More than radio, though, my parents came to visit last week on their way to Dubai. It was very nice to see them—almost more so than I had expected. I only really had the chance to have dinner and breakfast with them, but when they left, I felt real empty inside. Maybe it’s just that I don’t much like change, so when that feeling of home came back, I didn’t want to let it go.
Now, though, I have lots of essays to keep me busy for the six days until Becky comes to visit. Time should fly by quickly, though, from here: one week until Becky comes, then Amsterdam, then a weekend in Galway, then Belfast, then Dublin, then final exams for a few weeks, and then home! I’m regretting having booked myself so full of trips, for I have a lot of reading and writing to do; but at the same time, I know that I’d regret it in January if I didn’t go on these trips.
Finally, last weekend I went on a tour of the Aran Islands, just off the coast of Ireland’s west coast. Normally the trip would cost about €40, but I went with 80 international students as part of the International Students Society, so we each got bus fare, ferry fare, and bike rental for €16! Not bad at all! I was nervous before going on the trip, for I didn’t know anybody else who would be going. I decided to take a risk, though, and go anyway. Within a few minutes of waiting for the bus, I saw Molly—in my Irish class—and teamed up with her and her friends. The best way to see the island (specifically, Inis Mór—“In-ish-more”) is by bike, according to travel books and others who have gone. I was nervous about biking on my own, for people drive on the left, drivers are much more aggressive here, and I didn’t know what visibility would be like on the roads. Molly agreed to try a tandem bike, but when we got to the island we realized that wouldn’t work. Becky could explain this better than I could, but the physics require that the bigger person be on the front of the bike, and sadly I was the bigger person meaning that I would have to steer and brake…defeating the purpose of having a tandem bike! After trying to convince the bike guy that I really could bike on my own safely because I would be with the group, I got a bike that switched gears on its own and whose brakes were quite poor. Sadly, I didn’t realize this until we were about 20 minutes away from where we started! Molly kindly went back with me to return the bike, and it took another 20 minutes for us to re-convince the bike rentals person that we would be fine. On our way we went, and had a great time biking across the entire island and up to an ancient fort…supposedly the highest, most-Western point of Europe—though I haven’t been able to confirm that yet. It had to be about ten stories off the ocean, though, and we had a great lunch on the rock ledge! (I should point out, too, that was my cheapest lunch I’ve had in Ireland – just €4 for a great, fresh sandwich and a bottle of water…though I did bring my own sandwich too; that’s how hungry I was, but then again, when do I not eat two sandwiches!)
Well that’s all for now – thanks for reading!
Friday, October 10, 2008
Flirt-FM Update
This one will be quick, for I am not in the mood to write at the moment (sorry!). I have been confirmed on Flirt-FM on our afternoon current affairs programme, called Flirt Over Coffee. I'll be on the air on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays at 5:15 p.m. Irish time (12:15 p.m. US/Eastern). You can tune in at http://www.flirtfm.ie or 101.3fm in the Galway area (our signal reaches about 30 miles each direction, much larger than Stevenson High School Radio!).
I promise more later, and soon!
I promise more later, and soon!
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
NBC News, Homework Help, and Flirt-FM
Somehow almost a week away from the blog seems like a long time. I have had frequent thoughts about writing in general, and I’m always taken back to my Creative Writing class two years ago. There’s something about writing that I find peaceful, and after I write I find myself refreshed and ready to go again. Maybe that will serve me well if I go into journalism.
On a journalism note, I have been watching NBC’s Nightly News podcast daily since coming to Ireland (and a few days per week during the summer). Tom Costello reports for NBC from Capitol Hill, and therefore has been on-air for the past few weeks about the proposed—and albeit failed--$700 billion bailout package. On a hunch, I guessed at his e-mail and sent him a note about how I enjoy his reports and am looking for journalistic internships in Washington. (MSNBC’s website talks only about internships at Rockefeller Center in New York.) I hit send, and wasn’t expecting a reply for a few days. If the e-mail went through, I assumed, he’d see on his Blackberry, file it for later, and respond in a few weeks when the news settled down. To my amazement, he wrote back within three minutes, with the first line of, “Always good to hear from a fellow Irishman!” I was so happy that I’m pretty sure I had a bounce in my step walking to my Money and Banking class! I just found it fun and telling that a man who works at a prestigious company and reports for millions of people took the time to write back a college junior about an internship. He even invited me to a studio tour when I return. We’ll see where the process goes, but right now I am pretty excited and hopeful!
A few weeks ago, I signed up with a few volunteer organisations in the Galway area. One of them that particularly captured my interest was Ballinfoyle Family Services, a group that provides intervention services to low-income and underprivileged families. One of their weekly activities, at which I volunteered yesterday, is tutoring 7-9 year olds with their homework after school. That had to be one of the most rewarding parts of my time in Ireland! I worked with a very intelligent fourth grader on her multiplication and spelling/word usage homework. (And I learned that a “spanner” is a screwdriver – she had to teach me that!) On my walk to the school yesterday, I tried to think how you teach addition. Multiplication, it seems, is easier to teach if students grasp addition. None of the other students or supervisors were able to explain how to teach addition either – but it did prompt them to an idea that next week, we might have a meeting with a math teacher to ask!
Oh, and by the way, remember the days of subtracting 25-7? And you’d write it vertically, like:
25
- 7
-----
18
Then, you couldn’t do 5-7, so you’d have to borrow a 1 from the 2, change the 2 to a 1, and then proceed? Yeah – they don’t do that anymore. The supervisors tried to explain to me the new way, but they weren’t successful. They told me to ask one of the students next week! (Luckily, the girl with whom I was working didn’t have to do subtraction the long way!)
That’s all for now. I’m heading to training at Flirt-FM 101.3 (http://www.flirtfm.ie). Their station is pretty state-of-the-art, at least compared to WAES-FM at Stevenson High School where I worked for four years. Flirt-FM has digital recording of all shows (so it will be podcast – stay tuned for details!), computerized playlists, and the ability to use another studio to pre-record bits (or all!) of your show. Fancy, I’d say!
On a journalism note, I have been watching NBC’s Nightly News podcast daily since coming to Ireland (and a few days per week during the summer). Tom Costello reports for NBC from Capitol Hill, and therefore has been on-air for the past few weeks about the proposed—and albeit failed--$700 billion bailout package. On a hunch, I guessed at his e-mail and sent him a note about how I enjoy his reports and am looking for journalistic internships in Washington. (MSNBC’s website talks only about internships at Rockefeller Center in New York.) I hit send, and wasn’t expecting a reply for a few days. If the e-mail went through, I assumed, he’d see on his Blackberry, file it for later, and respond in a few weeks when the news settled down. To my amazement, he wrote back within three minutes, with the first line of, “Always good to hear from a fellow Irishman!” I was so happy that I’m pretty sure I had a bounce in my step walking to my Money and Banking class! I just found it fun and telling that a man who works at a prestigious company and reports for millions of people took the time to write back a college junior about an internship. He even invited me to a studio tour when I return. We’ll see where the process goes, but right now I am pretty excited and hopeful!
A few weeks ago, I signed up with a few volunteer organisations in the Galway area. One of them that particularly captured my interest was Ballinfoyle Family Services, a group that provides intervention services to low-income and underprivileged families. One of their weekly activities, at which I volunteered yesterday, is tutoring 7-9 year olds with their homework after school. That had to be one of the most rewarding parts of my time in Ireland! I worked with a very intelligent fourth grader on her multiplication and spelling/word usage homework. (And I learned that a “spanner” is a screwdriver – she had to teach me that!) On my walk to the school yesterday, I tried to think how you teach addition. Multiplication, it seems, is easier to teach if students grasp addition. None of the other students or supervisors were able to explain how to teach addition either – but it did prompt them to an idea that next week, we might have a meeting with a math teacher to ask!
Oh, and by the way, remember the days of subtracting 25-7? And you’d write it vertically, like:
25
- 7
-----
18
Then, you couldn’t do 5-7, so you’d have to borrow a 1 from the 2, change the 2 to a 1, and then proceed? Yeah – they don’t do that anymore. The supervisors tried to explain to me the new way, but they weren’t successful. They told me to ask one of the students next week! (Luckily, the girl with whom I was working didn’t have to do subtraction the long way!)
That’s all for now. I’m heading to training at Flirt-FM 101.3 (http://www.flirtfm.ie). Their station is pretty state-of-the-art, at least compared to WAES-FM at Stevenson High School where I worked for four years. Flirt-FM has digital recording of all shows (so it will be podcast – stay tuned for details!), computerized playlists, and the ability to use another studio to pre-record bits (or all!) of your show. Fancy, I’d say!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
An Article on Culture Shock from the FOFA Newsletter
I have been meaning to post this for some time now, but am just now remembering to do it while I have an Internet connection! I wrote this article for the Focus on Fall Abroad Newsletter distributed to GW students studying abroad during the fall semester. I don't know what told me to write something, other than the Office for Study Abroad's repeated e-mails asking for stories and photos. I'm not usually one to publicly admit that I am wrong, but maybe I've changed. Maybe it was because I thought I could help somebody else. Whatever the reason, I'm glad that I put the feelings to words. I don't know if the two are related, but I have notice that I've felt more adapted after writing it than I felt before.
Culture Shock: It Happens in Ireland Too
By: Corbb O’Connor, Junior
National University of Ireland, Galway
As I look back on my first few days in Somers Hall at GW’s Mount Vernon Campus, I remember a time of great excitement. I was in a completely new environment with very few (one, actually) familiar people and separated from my parents, but I didn’t care. I realize now that was because of the teamwork involved in GW’s Welcome Week. Those two weeks of more events than anybody could ever attend while still going to class were the reason I didn’t feel “culture shock” in Washington, DC. I think I called my parents two or three times during Welcome Week, mostly to say hello, no I don’t miss home, yes I love it here, and—by the way—I am off to another event to meet more new people.
Through all of my preparations for study abroad, I thought about culture shock once. That was during the Pre-departure Orientation. They said culture shock could happen to anybody, but I didn’t think it would be me. I had a great experience adjusting to a new life in college, so why would Ireland—an English-speaking, modern country—be any different? I wish I knew then about how I would feel for my first week in Galway, Ireland.
One week ago, I moved in to my very empty residence: the single room in three-person apartment (my two flatmates would move in four days later) situated in a development of about 80 townhouses. I didn’t come alone: I had 50-something buddies from IFSA-Butler with a support network of full-time staff in the country. But I felt, and still am feeling, culture shock.
I felt so alone in a place so foreign and so separate from everything—including the Internet—for the first time in my life. I was scared. I wanted to go home. I wanted something familiar. I couldn’t run across campus to watch TV with a friend, for I didn’t know where anybody in my program was living. I couldn’t even walk the five minutes to Dunnes—a department store with a 24-hour supermarket—across the road. (The person known for eating three dinners a night couldn’t walk 5 minutes for food.) I feared that I would get lost or hit by a car, crossing a roundabout for the first time without the help of a traffic light. Most of all, I really missed my eyes, my Guide Dog Phoenix, who—at the last minute—had to stay at home for medical reasons. More than eyes, though, he’s the equivalent of a 16-year-old’s car key: my ticket to independence. With Phoenix, I could go anywhere, at any time, in any weather, and not think about what I might bump into.
Before I left my home in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, I thought that I knew what I was getting myself into. I would live in a single room, located 20 minutes from the school, 15 minutes from the city center, 3,000 miles from Washington. I wouldn’t be bringing my Guide Dog, but I would bring my cane, a tool that I have used since the first grade. I remember my mother fearing that I would be traveling to Ireland without my eyeballs (Phoenix); I remember telling her that I would be fine with my cane. Today, I know she was right. (Yes, mom, I’m admitting it, and I am sorry.)
It’s not all doom and gloom, though. I am adjusting to using a cane all the time, even in the dark. I am adjusting to being farther from my classes and fun in the city than I was accustomed to. Slowly, I am meeting new people at a school where societies and clubs don’t start for another two weeks, contrasted to an immediate start to Welcome Week. In short, I am learning.
I am learning that most of the things I don’t notice every day are the very same things that I need: my eyes, Welcome Week, a small group of people to see every day (like at Mount Vernon), Facebook, and—most importantly—a solid group of friends and family. I forgot how hard it was to find a people for times of great sorrow and great celebration. I have a new appreciation for all of these things, and they won’t ever be the same to me. I keep learning.
Culture Shock: It Happens in Ireland Too
By: Corbb O’Connor, Junior
National University of Ireland, Galway
As I look back on my first few days in Somers Hall at GW’s Mount Vernon Campus, I remember a time of great excitement. I was in a completely new environment with very few (one, actually) familiar people and separated from my parents, but I didn’t care. I realize now that was because of the teamwork involved in GW’s Welcome Week. Those two weeks of more events than anybody could ever attend while still going to class were the reason I didn’t feel “culture shock” in Washington, DC. I think I called my parents two or three times during Welcome Week, mostly to say hello, no I don’t miss home, yes I love it here, and—by the way—I am off to another event to meet more new people.
Through all of my preparations for study abroad, I thought about culture shock once. That was during the Pre-departure Orientation. They said culture shock could happen to anybody, but I didn’t think it would be me. I had a great experience adjusting to a new life in college, so why would Ireland—an English-speaking, modern country—be any different? I wish I knew then about how I would feel for my first week in Galway, Ireland.
One week ago, I moved in to my very empty residence: the single room in three-person apartment (my two flatmates would move in four days later) situated in a development of about 80 townhouses. I didn’t come alone: I had 50-something buddies from IFSA-Butler with a support network of full-time staff in the country. But I felt, and still am feeling, culture shock.
I felt so alone in a place so foreign and so separate from everything—including the Internet—for the first time in my life. I was scared. I wanted to go home. I wanted something familiar. I couldn’t run across campus to watch TV with a friend, for I didn’t know where anybody in my program was living. I couldn’t even walk the five minutes to Dunnes—a department store with a 24-hour supermarket—across the road. (The person known for eating three dinners a night couldn’t walk 5 minutes for food.) I feared that I would get lost or hit by a car, crossing a roundabout for the first time without the help of a traffic light. Most of all, I really missed my eyes, my Guide Dog Phoenix, who—at the last minute—had to stay at home for medical reasons. More than eyes, though, he’s the equivalent of a 16-year-old’s car key: my ticket to independence. With Phoenix, I could go anywhere, at any time, in any weather, and not think about what I might bump into.
Before I left my home in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, I thought that I knew what I was getting myself into. I would live in a single room, located 20 minutes from the school, 15 minutes from the city center, 3,000 miles from Washington. I wouldn’t be bringing my Guide Dog, but I would bring my cane, a tool that I have used since the first grade. I remember my mother fearing that I would be traveling to Ireland without my eyeballs (Phoenix); I remember telling her that I would be fine with my cane. Today, I know she was right. (Yes, mom, I’m admitting it, and I am sorry.)
It’s not all doom and gloom, though. I am adjusting to using a cane all the time, even in the dark. I am adjusting to being farther from my classes and fun in the city than I was accustomed to. Slowly, I am meeting new people at a school where societies and clubs don’t start for another two weeks, contrasted to an immediate start to Welcome Week. In short, I am learning.
I am learning that most of the things I don’t notice every day are the very same things that I need: my eyes, Welcome Week, a small group of people to see every day (like at Mount Vernon), Facebook, and—most importantly—a solid group of friends and family. I forgot how hard it was to find a people for times of great sorrow and great celebration. I have a new appreciation for all of these things, and they won’t ever be the same to me. I keep learning.
Homestay, 19-21 September
I spent last weekend with an Irish family as part of IFSA-Butler’s homestay piece of our program. Before talking about that, though, one side note. I was in desperate need of a haircut. I knew that there was one in the shopping centre in the city centre, but never before had I had the guts to go into town alone. On Friday, though, I decided to give it a try. That was one of the things that has consistently bothered me: that I was too scared to venture out that way alone for fear that I wouldn’t be able to find my way there and back, and I feared that I wouldn’t be able to safely make the journey even if I followed the right streets (i.e. crossing the roundabout near my apartment). I am happy to say that I made that journey, and I made it safely. It wasn’t the most direct route, but it was a route that got me where I needed to go! Hooray! (Later, when my cousin’s wife came to Galway on vacation, I would make this same journey at night—in the dark—which was something for which I was even more proud of myself!)
My homestay was in County Mayo in a town called Castlebar, about an hour and fifteen minute drive from my apartment. While looking out the windows of the coach (bus) on the way to Castlebar, I was impressed with how quickly the city of Galway ended. After only about five minutes, suburban sprawl seemed to have ended, giving way to farms of grazing sheep and cows and rustic homes and farmhouses. I remember noticing the same thing when driving from Limerick to Galway about three weeks ago.
I (and Jordan, another study abroad student from the Butler program who goes to school at The Johns Hopkins University) stayed with a family of four: Michael (the father), Vera (the mother), Killian (a 9-year-old boy), and Kelvin (a 12-year-old boy). Michael is a part-time milkman and part-time postman, and Vera is a child-minder (baby-sitter). Their family was very welcoming of us, and I got the feeling that it was their first experience with a blind person. They, like many in this country, wondered whether I would be able to climb the stairs to the first floor (what we would call the second floor the Irish call the first floor, what we call the first floor they call the ground floor) and whether I would be able to navigate the home. I explained how I handled both of these things every day, and that seemed to put their fears to bed. Killian would ask me a lot of questions about this during my stay there, which I appreciated for then I could give him answers and know that he wasn’t assuming.
That first night, Vera cooked us quite possibly the best burger and chips that I have had so far in this country. Jordan commented how the chips were much better than the chips he cooked the other night, and we discovered that it was because Vera cooked the chips in a deep fryer whereas us students typically cook chips in the oven. I remember hers being much more moist (and hot!) than ones that I’ve ever cooked at home.
Because the tap water tastes so bad in my apartment, I have been searching for some sort of flavouring to add to it. When I ask the workers at local stores for something like this, though, they look confused, so I have assumed that this sort of product is foreign to the Irish. I learned from Killian, though, that his family almost always uses the flavouring when drinking water: Mi Wadi is the name of it, and it’s basically a syrup—high sugar and probably not at all healthy—made to taste like pomegranate. Tasty indeed, and now I want to buy some! (And, no Gill and Ryan, I did not offer to drink the bottle for cash as I did with Hershey’s Strawberry syrup freshman year in the Mount Vernon Pub! I did try it by itself later, though, when Killian wasn’t looking, and found it to taste good, but not good enough to drink instead of eating dessert!)
Jordan and I gave them the presents we had bought for them that first night, too. I brought a box of Frangos, the mint chocolates that used to be made by Marshall Fields in Chicago; he brought a book of American dessert recipes, a box of chocolates (though more common ones like Milky Way, Snickers, etc.), and a book about the history of New York taxicabs. (He’s from New Jersey, but close to the New York border. Sam, you’d punch him for this one, but he said, “I’m from New Jersey, and we like to think ourselves as being from New York City.” Ha!) Vera would consistently offer us his chocolates, but I noticed that she never offered mine. When I cordially asked her if she had enjoyed mine, she told me to “shhh – those are too good to share; I’m keeping those in my ‘secret place’ all for myself, unless Michael is very good to me then I’ll share one or two!” By Sunday, they had eaten all but two of the Frangos!
We watched a lot of television on Friday night, including “America’s Got Talent” hosted by Jerry Springer – a European show that goes around the U.S. looking for talented singers, dancers, dogs, etc. to compete in Las Vegas; and the English equivalent of Jay Leno – who was interviewing Ben Stiller about “Tropic Thunder,” which had just been released here in Europe. It was interesting to see how similar the shows are to the U.S. ones, and just like back home, they have hundreds of channels and nothing of any good quality is on the air! Throughout the night, though, each person drank 3 or 4 cups of tea and plenty of slices of sweet cake!
Saturday, I joined Michael on his post run. He is responsible for collecting the mail from the public mail drops (the equivalent of the USPS boxes around the cities) and from some of the post offices. He then took this post to a central sorting facility a couple of towns over. Next year, he said, the postal system was likely to be taken over by a German company and his job wasn’t a guaranteed one. The German company has a decent shot at getting the contract, he said, because right now the postal system has a 97% accuracy rate for overnight mail but the government wants a 99.9% rate. To the current company’s credit, in one year they have moved that percentage from 90% to 97%. Michael also said that his milk runs are becoming less frequent because of the hard economic times. He used to deliver milk twice a day, 5 days per week, but now he’s down to one run per day, three days per week. The reason is that another company has come in and delivers “about the same quality milk” for 50 cent less per litre.
It was fun to join Michael at work, mostly as a way to see the town and surrounding towns as well as to see what life is like as a postman – a lot of jumping in and out of the van! It’s interesting to see, too, how the Irish government outsources different parts of the mail system. For example, Michael works for a news agent (general store), who holds the contract for completing the route that he drives every Saturday.
We then went to Kelvin’s (the 12-year-old) soccer match, a championship game that his team lost 6-0. In addition to working the few hours before the game, Michael was trying to hunt down other parents to see who had taken the game balls from the shed near the soccer field. He never did manage to learn who took them, by the way, and they happened to find one in his trunk that was his family’s ball!
We went that afternoon, with almost half the town it seemed, to a pub to watch an English soccer match. (I say soccer, by the way, and not football, as football refers to Gaelic Football, a combination of basketball, volleyball, and soccer.) People flocked to this pub because they didn’t get the channel that the game was airing on, for paying for the channel was more expensive than a couple of pints a few times a year when they wanted to watch it! Michael’s team won, but I wasn’t too interested in the game. Instead, I focused on the people at the pub. Little clusters formed of people watching the game, reminding me of my aunts in Texas who watch the Dallas Cowboys play and yell at the TV when the team does stupid things or cheer when they win. Some things, it seems, are universal around the world!
We moved pubs – with Killian (the 9-year-old), Vera, and Michael – and drank some more. The conversation was interesting, learning about the Irish dating scene back when Vera and Michael were dating. Turns out, like so many Irish, that they met in a pub about 20 years ago!
The family went back home, as the law requires anybody under 18 to leave a pub after 9 p.m., but Jordan and I stayed out. We found a group of other students in our program, and found a pub called Bosh, featuring hip-hop and pop music. It was nice, though, because the music wasn’t too loud and the lighting didn’t make it too dark either. I enjoyed my time there, too, because it seemed like people weren’t in the mood to get drunk but just wanted to have some nice, chill conversations with one another. I tried a new beer, too, which was darker than my current favourite (Carlsberg) but much lighter than Guinness (then again, what isn’t lighter than Guinness?).
Jordan and I had an interesting taxi ride home that night. Our driver didn’t know where our host family was staying after we gave him the address, and after going out of our way several times, he got us there. But he wanted to charge us €25 for what should have been €7 – I suggested that we pay him €6 but Jordan gave him €8. (Michael told us not to pay more than €6, and that was all that I had to go on.) The taxi driver then, though, had the nerve to tell us that we have to know where we are going, not just an address, next time; a “taxi is not a clairvoyant” he said. Seems to me, and Michael later agreed, that if you give a driver an address, it’s his job to find it! Oh well. I wasn’t going to let this taxi rip us off, after my and Lanty’s experience in Limerick on our first day in Ireland!
Sunday was a quiet day – we slept until noon, something that Vera does every weekend. I did manage to wake up before her, though, which was a strange feeling! We had a massive dinner around mid-afternoon (as is typical for an Irish family on the weekends). As is also typical, every meal that we ate with our family featured three kinds of potatoes (in this case: a potato salad, mashed potatoes, and potato wedges). Tasty and filling, indeed. For the first time in a long time, I was not actually able to finish what was on my plate!
I enjoyed the time with the family. Michael told Jordan and I that we were certainly welcome back anytime this semester or on our next trip to Ireland. I’ll have to take him up on that offer, as there is a lot around Castlebar that we didn’t have a chance to see. Many sights are within a half hour’s drive of Castlebar, but they’re not easily accessible without a car.
My homestay was in County Mayo in a town called Castlebar, about an hour and fifteen minute drive from my apartment. While looking out the windows of the coach (bus) on the way to Castlebar, I was impressed with how quickly the city of Galway ended. After only about five minutes, suburban sprawl seemed to have ended, giving way to farms of grazing sheep and cows and rustic homes and farmhouses. I remember noticing the same thing when driving from Limerick to Galway about three weeks ago.
I (and Jordan, another study abroad student from the Butler program who goes to school at The Johns Hopkins University) stayed with a family of four: Michael (the father), Vera (the mother), Killian (a 9-year-old boy), and Kelvin (a 12-year-old boy). Michael is a part-time milkman and part-time postman, and Vera is a child-minder (baby-sitter). Their family was very welcoming of us, and I got the feeling that it was their first experience with a blind person. They, like many in this country, wondered whether I would be able to climb the stairs to the first floor (what we would call the second floor the Irish call the first floor, what we call the first floor they call the ground floor) and whether I would be able to navigate the home. I explained how I handled both of these things every day, and that seemed to put their fears to bed. Killian would ask me a lot of questions about this during my stay there, which I appreciated for then I could give him answers and know that he wasn’t assuming.
That first night, Vera cooked us quite possibly the best burger and chips that I have had so far in this country. Jordan commented how the chips were much better than the chips he cooked the other night, and we discovered that it was because Vera cooked the chips in a deep fryer whereas us students typically cook chips in the oven. I remember hers being much more moist (and hot!) than ones that I’ve ever cooked at home.
Because the tap water tastes so bad in my apartment, I have been searching for some sort of flavouring to add to it. When I ask the workers at local stores for something like this, though, they look confused, so I have assumed that this sort of product is foreign to the Irish. I learned from Killian, though, that his family almost always uses the flavouring when drinking water: Mi Wadi is the name of it, and it’s basically a syrup—high sugar and probably not at all healthy—made to taste like pomegranate. Tasty indeed, and now I want to buy some! (And, no Gill and Ryan, I did not offer to drink the bottle for cash as I did with Hershey’s Strawberry syrup freshman year in the Mount Vernon Pub! I did try it by itself later, though, when Killian wasn’t looking, and found it to taste good, but not good enough to drink instead of eating dessert!)
Jordan and I gave them the presents we had bought for them that first night, too. I brought a box of Frangos, the mint chocolates that used to be made by Marshall Fields in Chicago; he brought a book of American dessert recipes, a box of chocolates (though more common ones like Milky Way, Snickers, etc.), and a book about the history of New York taxicabs. (He’s from New Jersey, but close to the New York border. Sam, you’d punch him for this one, but he said, “I’m from New Jersey, and we like to think ourselves as being from New York City.” Ha!) Vera would consistently offer us his chocolates, but I noticed that she never offered mine. When I cordially asked her if she had enjoyed mine, she told me to “shhh – those are too good to share; I’m keeping those in my ‘secret place’ all for myself, unless Michael is very good to me then I’ll share one or two!” By Sunday, they had eaten all but two of the Frangos!
We watched a lot of television on Friday night, including “America’s Got Talent” hosted by Jerry Springer – a European show that goes around the U.S. looking for talented singers, dancers, dogs, etc. to compete in Las Vegas; and the English equivalent of Jay Leno – who was interviewing Ben Stiller about “Tropic Thunder,” which had just been released here in Europe. It was interesting to see how similar the shows are to the U.S. ones, and just like back home, they have hundreds of channels and nothing of any good quality is on the air! Throughout the night, though, each person drank 3 or 4 cups of tea and plenty of slices of sweet cake!
Saturday, I joined Michael on his post run. He is responsible for collecting the mail from the public mail drops (the equivalent of the USPS boxes around the cities) and from some of the post offices. He then took this post to a central sorting facility a couple of towns over. Next year, he said, the postal system was likely to be taken over by a German company and his job wasn’t a guaranteed one. The German company has a decent shot at getting the contract, he said, because right now the postal system has a 97% accuracy rate for overnight mail but the government wants a 99.9% rate. To the current company’s credit, in one year they have moved that percentage from 90% to 97%. Michael also said that his milk runs are becoming less frequent because of the hard economic times. He used to deliver milk twice a day, 5 days per week, but now he’s down to one run per day, three days per week. The reason is that another company has come in and delivers “about the same quality milk” for 50 cent less per litre.
It was fun to join Michael at work, mostly as a way to see the town and surrounding towns as well as to see what life is like as a postman – a lot of jumping in and out of the van! It’s interesting to see, too, how the Irish government outsources different parts of the mail system. For example, Michael works for a news agent (general store), who holds the contract for completing the route that he drives every Saturday.
We then went to Kelvin’s (the 12-year-old) soccer match, a championship game that his team lost 6-0. In addition to working the few hours before the game, Michael was trying to hunt down other parents to see who had taken the game balls from the shed near the soccer field. He never did manage to learn who took them, by the way, and they happened to find one in his trunk that was his family’s ball!
We went that afternoon, with almost half the town it seemed, to a pub to watch an English soccer match. (I say soccer, by the way, and not football, as football refers to Gaelic Football, a combination of basketball, volleyball, and soccer.) People flocked to this pub because they didn’t get the channel that the game was airing on, for paying for the channel was more expensive than a couple of pints a few times a year when they wanted to watch it! Michael’s team won, but I wasn’t too interested in the game. Instead, I focused on the people at the pub. Little clusters formed of people watching the game, reminding me of my aunts in Texas who watch the Dallas Cowboys play and yell at the TV when the team does stupid things or cheer when they win. Some things, it seems, are universal around the world!
We moved pubs – with Killian (the 9-year-old), Vera, and Michael – and drank some more. The conversation was interesting, learning about the Irish dating scene back when Vera and Michael were dating. Turns out, like so many Irish, that they met in a pub about 20 years ago!
The family went back home, as the law requires anybody under 18 to leave a pub after 9 p.m., but Jordan and I stayed out. We found a group of other students in our program, and found a pub called Bosh, featuring hip-hop and pop music. It was nice, though, because the music wasn’t too loud and the lighting didn’t make it too dark either. I enjoyed my time there, too, because it seemed like people weren’t in the mood to get drunk but just wanted to have some nice, chill conversations with one another. I tried a new beer, too, which was darker than my current favourite (Carlsberg) but much lighter than Guinness (then again, what isn’t lighter than Guinness?).
Jordan and I had an interesting taxi ride home that night. Our driver didn’t know where our host family was staying after we gave him the address, and after going out of our way several times, he got us there. But he wanted to charge us €25 for what should have been €7 – I suggested that we pay him €6 but Jordan gave him €8. (Michael told us not to pay more than €6, and that was all that I had to go on.) The taxi driver then, though, had the nerve to tell us that we have to know where we are going, not just an address, next time; a “taxi is not a clairvoyant” he said. Seems to me, and Michael later agreed, that if you give a driver an address, it’s his job to find it! Oh well. I wasn’t going to let this taxi rip us off, after my and Lanty’s experience in Limerick on our first day in Ireland!
Sunday was a quiet day – we slept until noon, something that Vera does every weekend. I did manage to wake up before her, though, which was a strange feeling! We had a massive dinner around mid-afternoon (as is typical for an Irish family on the weekends). As is also typical, every meal that we ate with our family featured three kinds of potatoes (in this case: a potato salad, mashed potatoes, and potato wedges). Tasty and filling, indeed. For the first time in a long time, I was not actually able to finish what was on my plate!
I enjoyed the time with the family. Michael told Jordan and I that we were certainly welcome back anytime this semester or on our next trip to Ireland. I’ll have to take him up on that offer, as there is a lot around Castlebar that we didn’t have a chance to see. Many sights are within a half hour’s drive of Castlebar, but they’re not easily accessible without a car.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Too good not to post
I was just coming back from doing laundry, and listening to the sounds of our complex on a Wednesday night: loud music, loud people, dance parties, cell phone conversations, etc. Somehow, out of all the noise, one sentence stood out. "Well hurry up, because I' stuck in a trolley and can't get out." (A trolley, by the way, is a grocery cart.) I chuckle and keep walking.
I walk into my apartment, and decide to share this with the dance party-goers in my living room. Turns out that girl was my roommate. In an instant, all of her friends run outside, and do what any kind, loving friends would do: they point and laugh.
Eventually one of them walks over and pushes the cart into our living room. It sounds like she's been freed, but I'm not sure. She was having a jolly time, though. It just reminds me of the Trader Joe's cart that my summer roommates brought into our room for a few weeks. Maybe this one won't stay as long? But, if I return it, I can collect €1 ($1.40), as you have to insert a Euro to take out the cart. (I suppose it's insurance to encourage you to take it back to the corral instead of leaving it in the car park [parking lot].)
I walk into my apartment, and decide to share this with the dance party-goers in my living room. Turns out that girl was my roommate. In an instant, all of her friends run outside, and do what any kind, loving friends would do: they point and laugh.
Eventually one of them walks over and pushes the cart into our living room. It sounds like she's been freed, but I'm not sure. She was having a jolly time, though. It just reminds me of the Trader Joe's cart that my summer roommates brought into our room for a few weeks. Maybe this one won't stay as long? But, if I return it, I can collect €1 ($1.40), as you have to insert a Euro to take out the cart. (I suppose it's insurance to encourage you to take it back to the corral instead of leaving it in the car park [parking lot].)
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