On Saturday I finally arrived back in England! I have been waiting to visit for over a year now and the time has finally come! Flying into Liverpool was full of flashbacks of good memories and a feeling of 'coming home' that I have only felt once before--when flying back into the States. I recognized Hope Street with the massive Catholic and Anglican churches at either end which gave me the feeling that I would not only run into familiar sights, but maybe people I knew, too! Unfortunately, I didn't see any of my old friends from Edge Hill. Lee kindly met me in the city center, though! Just being back in Liverpool lifted my morale by about 100 percent.
Outsiders to England might appreciate this next observation. To citizens of England: Take no offense, please. There seems to be a gap from young child to teenager in England. Small eight-year-olds walk around with fancy boots, grown-up scarves, and fashionable jackets with full accessories to go with the outfit. They all look and talk like little women! Where has the youthfulness gone? I have yet to see any eight- to fourteen-year-olds just smiling and playing around. They have these permanent stares on their faces as if they are in a couture magazine shoot and their language is far beyond their years. It's shocking and sad at the same time.
This country does appreciate staying young-looking, but it seems like everyone wants to average their appearance to age twenty--even the little kids! I did notice this last year when I was here, but working more in the schools and around children, it looks even more unnatural than the first time I witnessed it.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Better Homes and Gardens
No desperate housewife here! Actually, I’m not even a wife, nor do I live in my own house. But! I am finding myself loving doing laundry, cooking food, baking goods, and concocting desserts. By no means am I perfect at doing any of these things, but I am at least enjoying the things that I was most afraid of on the plane ride to Ireland. (P.S. All of my laundry turned out the same color as when it when in. The clothes are spun around so violently that I was actually worried for the clothing and kept my eye on it for about ten minutes or so. Then, I let it do its job and held on to the hope that it would be okay.)
The first meeting between Lee’s ‘mum’ and me is coming up very soon and I have only had three weeks of practice cooking before the big Easter feast. One thing I am good at: sugar and manners. So, even if my desserts do not turn out perfectly with the English substitutes for American ingredients, then maybe they will find it in their hearts to not insult my efforts. Either way, it will be nice to be with a family on Easter.
A lesson about living in Ireland I have learned is that when it is sunny, it is extremely easy to be happy and lovely to everyone you meet. But, the challenge comes when it rains here. I have only experienced one full day of rain, so I consider myself lucky. There are bouts of rain during the days here, however, and they show no warning signs, either! I don’t know if there is anything worse than being caught in the rain without an umbrella and 10 pounds of groceries…and reaching into a dirty sink of dishwater and pulling that plug out. Whenever I get caught in the rain here, I feel like I’m carrying twice my weight and highly unmotivated. Is that how it feels everywhere? Probably. Would an umbrella help? Probably not. Umbrellas keep your heads dry, but the rest of you still gets soaked. Let’s just continue to use umbrellas for their intended creation: protecting ourselves from rubbish being thrown out of windows. Let’s do it! Who’s with me?
With all of the flying compost out of the houses and into the yard, we truly would have better homes and gardens.
The first meeting between Lee’s ‘mum’ and me is coming up very soon and I have only had three weeks of practice cooking before the big Easter feast. One thing I am good at: sugar and manners. So, even if my desserts do not turn out perfectly with the English substitutes for American ingredients, then maybe they will find it in their hearts to not insult my efforts. Either way, it will be nice to be with a family on Easter.
A lesson about living in Ireland I have learned is that when it is sunny, it is extremely easy to be happy and lovely to everyone you meet. But, the challenge comes when it rains here. I have only experienced one full day of rain, so I consider myself lucky. There are bouts of rain during the days here, however, and they show no warning signs, either! I don’t know if there is anything worse than being caught in the rain without an umbrella and 10 pounds of groceries…and reaching into a dirty sink of dishwater and pulling that plug out. Whenever I get caught in the rain here, I feel like I’m carrying twice my weight and highly unmotivated. Is that how it feels everywhere? Probably. Would an umbrella help? Probably not. Umbrellas keep your heads dry, but the rest of you still gets soaked. Let’s just continue to use umbrellas for their intended creation: protecting ourselves from rubbish being thrown out of windows. Let’s do it! Who’s with me?
With all of the flying compost out of the houses and into the yard, we truly would have better homes and gardens.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Diff'rent Strokes for Diff'rent Folks
Lately, I’ve been asking questions about how to be a teacher in Ireland and what it’s like to be a teacher in Ireland—examples being benefits and year-to-year experiences. So, here are the comparing and contrasting facts that are somewhat shocking to the great teaching situations back at home, well at least in Ohio.
Teachers in Ireland only get two sick days a year! I found this shocking as teachers at public schools in Ohio get 15 and they are allowed to carry them over from year-to-year.
Irish school days last from 9:20 A.M. until 3 P.M. (and days end at 2 P.M. for preschool-aged children).
Many teachers in Ireland wear the same outfit to school everyday for one week. Then, they begin a new outfit the next week and wear that for another five days. If I would do this in Ohio, then people would talk.
There is no ‘teacher’s lounge’ in my Irish primary school. They use the special education room for tea breaks and lunchtimes. Also, there is no cafeteria in my primary school which provided an awkward lunchtime on my first day: I brought lunch money, but there was no lunch to buy…so I had to run across the road to the supermarket.
The children in Ireland use their backpacks as their desks. They take their books out as they go and then stow everything away in pencil cases and homework portfolios.
All students have different ‘copy books’ for every subject. These are basically little notebooks that the children use to copy out of larger text books or just write their answers into and the teacher grades them and then hands them back. I really like these ‘copies’ and if I can find an affordable substitute in the States, then I will use them. …That is, if I teach in the States.
The students eat their lunch and snacks at their desks or tables. For hygiene reasons, I have grown to dislike this plan and would prefer a lunch room.
Public and private schooled children all wear uniforms in Ireland. I do like the uniform idea because then the kids have to be ‘unique’ in academic ways instead of their quality of clothing.
Teachers in Ireland cannot teach the same grade two years in a row. They must switch every year and once they teach ‘junior infants,’ or preschoolers, for five years, then they cannot serve jury duty. Why? Because the government thinks that preschool teachers are loopy.
I knew that things would be different, but some of the differences had me quite shocked. What I am happiest about from this whole experience is that I have had the opportunity to add to my repertoire as a teacher and have great new ideas to use in my own classroom one day.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Tidiest Town
Kenmare is the “tidiest town” in Ireland. Seriously! Do you realize how much pressure this is? I don’t want to ruin a reputation like this for a town that has held this title for many years in a row. I have been doing my best, and it is incredibly easy to stay ‘tidy’ when all I have is two suitcases worth of possessions. How much mess could that possibly cause? Even the untidiest person in the world would have trouble turning two suitcases of clothes and accessories into a dump.
To dad: Sit down for this. I cleaned my bathroom. I know, shocker! In my family, I am considered somewhat of the ‘princess’ because for a twenty-something I have been very pampered by living at home and my parents have made my life very easy. Now that I am ‘on my own’ for awhile, I was not sure how cleaning would go.
But call me Martha Stewart because I am doing really well! Bathroom: check. Wood floors: check. Windows: check. Dusting: check. Vacuuming: check. Kitchen: check. I think that I might just get the Miss Tidiest Town Tidier 2010 Award. This doesn’t exist, but it will by May 1st. At least I know that if I have the responsibility of an entire apartment one day, that I can do it! (Nike.)
The worst part of being ‘tidy’ is doing dishes. Doing the dishes is not fun. It was fun for a minute, and then after I finished that spoon, it’s been downhill from there. It might have to do with my dislike of wet textures and grimy food. Even worse than washing the dishes? Reaching down into the dirty water to pull the plug to release all of the gunky water into the deep, dark pipes. Gnasty.
I still fear doing the laundry…wish me luck.
To dad: Sit down for this. I cleaned my bathroom. I know, shocker! In my family, I am considered somewhat of the ‘princess’ because for a twenty-something I have been very pampered by living at home and my parents have made my life very easy. Now that I am ‘on my own’ for awhile, I was not sure how cleaning would go.
But call me Martha Stewart because I am doing really well! Bathroom: check. Wood floors: check. Windows: check. Dusting: check. Vacuuming: check. Kitchen: check. I think that I might just get the Miss Tidiest Town Tidier 2010 Award. This doesn’t exist, but it will by May 1st. At least I know that if I have the responsibility of an entire apartment one day, that I can do it! (Nike.)
The worst part of being ‘tidy’ is doing dishes. Doing the dishes is not fun. It was fun for a minute, and then after I finished that spoon, it’s been downhill from there. It might have to do with my dislike of wet textures and grimy food. Even worse than washing the dishes? Reaching down into the dirty water to pull the plug to release all of the gunky water into the deep, dark pipes. Gnasty.
I still fear doing the laundry…wish me luck.
To Sir, With Love
Most days in the boys’ school, I am on cloud nine and would prefer to spend my entire day working in the school with the children than ever go out to fraternize with people my own age. The children bring such joy, and like music, the first glance into their expression-filled faces can change your emotional state in a blink. I absolutely know that I am in the profession I was meant to be because even if I won the lottery tomorrow, then I would still go in to teach everyday until the government said I had to move out and collect my retirement.
There are times though, when I feel like Sidney Poitier in To Sir, With Love. The oldest boys I work with are “first class” which is like first grade, ages six and seven. The way that students are allowed to act sometimes can be a culture shock to an American teacher. For instance, the students talk over one another, over the teacher, and continue talking no matter what classroom management technique is used. All of this talking and yelling of ‘Teacher!’ reminds me of the scene where Poitier is brought before this rebellious class of secondary school students and he gives them a look as if to say, “Are you serious? You speak like this to a teacher?” But, he works his way into their hearts and earns their respect, just like every teacher has to now. I believe the days of respect for teachers merely because they are ‘teachers’ is over, and I am not at all shaken about this. I think that if the children are shown respect, provided with rich learning experiences, and get the opportunity to work in a well-structured classroom, that the respect from them to their teachers will flow smoothly.
I haven’t had my Poitier breakthrough yet, but I did receive my first card from a ‘junior infant’ named Jude—who is from England—and his mother. Last Friday, I sent home a letter to the parents, which Jude’s mom very much appreciated and took the time to send in a card. Jude also signed the card, “Thank you for dodge ball. I love you. X From Jude.”
And I said, “Hey Jude. Don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better.”
Typical day in the classroom
(Junior and Senior Infants stay from 9:20 until 2)
(First class and up stay from 9:20 until 3):
Morning prayers
Music (twice a week)—Irish dancing or in-class singing/tin flute playing
Irish lessons
Religion
Recess
English/Reading
Snack
Recess
Lunch
Maths
P.E./Art/Drama
There are times though, when I feel like Sidney Poitier in To Sir, With Love. The oldest boys I work with are “first class” which is like first grade, ages six and seven. The way that students are allowed to act sometimes can be a culture shock to an American teacher. For instance, the students talk over one another, over the teacher, and continue talking no matter what classroom management technique is used. All of this talking and yelling of ‘Teacher!’ reminds me of the scene where Poitier is brought before this rebellious class of secondary school students and he gives them a look as if to say, “Are you serious? You speak like this to a teacher?” But, he works his way into their hearts and earns their respect, just like every teacher has to now. I believe the days of respect for teachers merely because they are ‘teachers’ is over, and I am not at all shaken about this. I think that if the children are shown respect, provided with rich learning experiences, and get the opportunity to work in a well-structured classroom, that the respect from them to their teachers will flow smoothly.
I haven’t had my Poitier breakthrough yet, but I did receive my first card from a ‘junior infant’ named Jude—who is from England—and his mother. Last Friday, I sent home a letter to the parents, which Jude’s mom very much appreciated and took the time to send in a card. Jude also signed the card, “Thank you for dodge ball. I love you. X From Jude.”
And I said, “Hey Jude. Don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart then you can start to make it better.”
Typical day in the classroom
(Junior and Senior Infants stay from 9:20 until 2)
(First class and up stay from 9:20 until 3):
Morning prayers
Music (twice a week)—Irish dancing or in-class singing/tin flute playing
Irish lessons
Religion
Recess
English/Reading
Snack
Recess
Lunch
Maths
P.E./Art/Drama
Who are the people in your neighborhood?
The people who I meet each day are the teachers at the boys’ school and other than that, only the people who I pass on the street. My friends, up until last Thursday, were all five- to seven-years-old, basically. We would meet to play football and Tonka trucks at the playground. Around 11 o’clock, we would share stories about Phineas and Ferb, “Spidey,” and our common knowledge about sheep and daffodils at snack time. Then, around two or three o’clock, we would say our good-byes and I would help them zip their coats. Yes, those were my friends and that was the extent of my social life.
Now, I have a new apartment and a new friend! I am very excited about this because although I thought I could manage by myself and just be a quiet, homebody for eight weeks, I found out that I can’t do that at all. I was quite depressed and very lonely. Now, I am more content and happy to be social when I get home from school. For my family and close friends, it will be no surprise that I like to talk and share stories—the whole story with all of the juicy details. So, now I have a housemate named Matt, who is also an American, to talk to and one who doesn’t mind too much if I make a little smoke in the kitchen with my new cooking concoctions—which could really just be Ramen noodles and French toast, but somehow there is always a haze of smoke after I cook! The food tastes good, but I have to figure out how to get rid of the special fire hazard touch I add to the recipes.
The old apartment, in which I stayed for four nights, was more of a convent than an apartment. (My idea of becoming a nun two years ago came back to haunt me in a very real way.) I was being highly monitored, the house was freezing, and it was in a low-lit part of town, twenty minutes from the center of everything. The main reason for the move was privacy—and I got it! I am much happier with my new living situation because I have freedom to come and go as I please, heat, and a five-minute walk to the school, grocery store, and shops. Movin’ on up to the Eastside, Jeffersons!
In a week and a half, I’ll be going to England to visit all of my old friends and apply for jobs in the Northern part of the country. If I am meant to be there permanently, then I guess I will find out in the next couple months; and, if I am not meant to be in England, then who knows where I will end up? I just know that after three days in England last year during my study abroad experience, I felt completely safe and loved every minute of being where I was. I think everybody needs to find this feeling and try to go wherever they feel the most at peace. Plus, I would already know the people in my neighborhood and I know that they say, “Hello,” back to me when I greet them.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
Today, I saw a leprechaun, a rainbow, a pot of gold, a four-leaf clover, and everyone was wearing green!
Oops, I lied. Actually, about three people were wearing green and there were three-leafed shamrocks in the windows in town, but other than that today was not much different than every other day in Ireland. In a few of the larger cities, parades were held to honor the day and all government-run facilities were closed—including school! Whoohoo! A day off is always good to provide time to recuperate and see more of the nature trails around town.
My new friend Matt and I went to the trails by the lake and the day turned from bright, warm, and sunny to cloudy, cool, and drizzly within an hour! Not cool, Ireland. It was nice to have someone to talk to and not pay .50 cents per minute to do so! I had been calling home and Lee a lot just to have people to talk to and it was costing a lot of money, so this is a nice break for my bank account.
On the way back from the nature walk, I did ‘celebrate’ St. Patrick’s Day by buying a little chocolate cupcake with bright green icing on top at a local bakery. A cupcake with icing is my kind of party—not really looking to join the locals for a romp out on the town tonight. A cupcake, leftovers, and Glee and Friends on television are alright with me. It’s amazing to compare how Americans and Irish celebrate St. Patrick’s Day and how different it actually is. We just need to settle down over there. People really go out of control to show their excitement over the fact that a man named Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland. Yes, I’m sure that they know why they’re celebrating the day…
To Mom: The cupcake wasn’t as good as your cupcakes are! I am really missing your cut-out cookies, peanut butter pie, and coffee cake. You should start a bakery. Sunday was Mother’s Day here—HAPPY EUROPEAN MOTHER’S DAY!
Sunday, March 14, 2010
And I Would Walk 500 Miles
Well, actually it was 19.26 miles, but who's counting?
That's right. This past weekend has been the craziest in my life as far as completely unplanned events go. You're in for a real treat as I have been debating posting this story at all.
On Friday, after school let out early--at 12 Noon--I went back to my apartment to clean the kitchen and tidy-up a bit. (I'm in a new apartment now, but that story will have to wait for another day.) Three and a half hours later, Lee came to Kenmare by bus to visit me! This was definitely something to look forward to all week because I haven't met many younger folk to do things with and I also had not seen Lee since New Year's.
The first thing we had to get sorted was the bus time for the ride back to his airport before Monday at 7 A.M. We discovered, quite unfortunately, I live in a very desolate town that does not have public transportation on the weekends and it is so far away from any other major city that to travel by taxi would be at least $100. So we decided that by Sunday evening, we had to make it to Killarney, which is (only) 43 kilometers away.
Friday night, we ate out at Prego's in town and it was the tastiest Italian food I have had in a long time. I would highly recommend this restaurant if you are ever in the area.
Then, Saturday rolled in and this was the day we began our journey to Killarney. At 1 o'clock in the afternoon, we trekked up the hillside toward the big city where buses and trains actually run on the weekends and kept on marching. When we reached mountains and were practically walking through clouds, I was beginning to feel just the slightest bit worried that we would either get attacked by the wild sheep--equipped with horns!--or pass out of exhaustion. Jeans and 'trainers' or tennis shoes are not good hiking apparel, but that's all we had.
When we got to a place called Kilgarven, it was almost exactly like the set of House of Wax. For those of you who have not seen that horror movie, it consists of a town run by two brothers who paint fake signs and decorate a town to look as if people still live there, but in actuality, the brothers capture any travelers who find themselves wandering through the town and turn them into wax people! Fortunately, we made it through Kilgarven and didn't see any people--wax or otherwise.
Our goal was to make it to Killarney by 5 or 6 o'clock, but when 7:57 rolled around and the sky was getting very dark, we decided to try to make it to the nearest gas station or bed and breakfast and call a taxi. At this point, we were walking on a highway, so the kilometers were just ticking away and Killarney was only about 18 km more.
At the 12 km mark, we saw it! Not a mirage, but a real gas station with the lights on and it didn't look deserted! We jumped for joy and actually hugged because we were at our wits' end and finally saw a sign of hope. So, we walked in and I said, "Hello, how are you?" like I usually do to everyone I see--even though Lee doesn't really think this is necessary to do. And before I even finished my sentence, the man said, "We're closing, no more sales." It was three minutes 'til eight and the man was closing! He wouldn't even let us bother him for a taxi number! Now, I have been trying to be opened minded, but the people are not as friendly as the people I work with at the Kenmare school and they do not even begin to compare to the people from Ohio. Seriously, common courtesy in Ireland is scarce and when--if--you find it, be grateful! I would say that out of the times you speak to someone in a shop or on the street, you will get a response from about 3% of them. I blame the movie industry for making believe that the people would act otherwise.
Well, after we were pushed out of the door of the gas station, I was utterly frustrated, upset at the situation and the rude man, and needless to say, tired. Lee got a signal on his mobile phone at about this time, though, so there was a sign of hope! We rang for information and got connected to a taxi service in Killarney!! Within ten minutes, a taxi picked us up and by 8:30, we arrived at our destination.
All of my toes are twice the size they are regularly and Lee and I don't really feel any more in shape than when we started, but the views on the mountain were beautiful and it was a side of Ireland that I am happy to have seen. We were also blessed to not have any rain during this weekend-long adventure. Would we travel that long again? No. But, I took pictures along the journey to capture the frustration and majesty of it all.
Photographs are soon to come...the Internet is scarce where I live and I have to use Internet cafes to connect, but I will try to post the photos soon.
That's right. This past weekend has been the craziest in my life as far as completely unplanned events go. You're in for a real treat as I have been debating posting this story at all.
On Friday, after school let out early--at 12 Noon--I went back to my apartment to clean the kitchen and tidy-up a bit. (I'm in a new apartment now, but that story will have to wait for another day.) Three and a half hours later, Lee came to Kenmare by bus to visit me! This was definitely something to look forward to all week because I haven't met many younger folk to do things with and I also had not seen Lee since New Year's.
The first thing we had to get sorted was the bus time for the ride back to his airport before Monday at 7 A.M. We discovered, quite unfortunately, I live in a very desolate town that does not have public transportation on the weekends and it is so far away from any other major city that to travel by taxi would be at least $100. So we decided that by Sunday evening, we had to make it to Killarney, which is (only) 43 kilometers away.
Friday night, we ate out at Prego's in town and it was the tastiest Italian food I have had in a long time. I would highly recommend this restaurant if you are ever in the area.
Then, Saturday rolled in and this was the day we began our journey to Killarney. At 1 o'clock in the afternoon, we trekked up the hillside toward the big city where buses and trains actually run on the weekends and kept on marching. When we reached mountains and were practically walking through clouds, I was beginning to feel just the slightest bit worried that we would either get attacked by the wild sheep--equipped with horns!--or pass out of exhaustion. Jeans and 'trainers' or tennis shoes are not good hiking apparel, but that's all we had.
When we got to a place called Kilgarven, it was almost exactly like the set of House of Wax. For those of you who have not seen that horror movie, it consists of a town run by two brothers who paint fake signs and decorate a town to look as if people still live there, but in actuality, the brothers capture any travelers who find themselves wandering through the town and turn them into wax people! Fortunately, we made it through Kilgarven and didn't see any people--wax or otherwise.
Our goal was to make it to Killarney by 5 or 6 o'clock, but when 7:57 rolled around and the sky was getting very dark, we decided to try to make it to the nearest gas station or bed and breakfast and call a taxi. At this point, we were walking on a highway, so the kilometers were just ticking away and Killarney was only about 18 km more.
At the 12 km mark, we saw it! Not a mirage, but a real gas station with the lights on and it didn't look deserted! We jumped for joy and actually hugged because we were at our wits' end and finally saw a sign of hope. So, we walked in and I said, "Hello, how are you?" like I usually do to everyone I see--even though Lee doesn't really think this is necessary to do. And before I even finished my sentence, the man said, "We're closing, no more sales." It was three minutes 'til eight and the man was closing! He wouldn't even let us bother him for a taxi number! Now, I have been trying to be opened minded, but the people are not as friendly as the people I work with at the Kenmare school and they do not even begin to compare to the people from Ohio. Seriously, common courtesy in Ireland is scarce and when--if--you find it, be grateful! I would say that out of the times you speak to someone in a shop or on the street, you will get a response from about 3% of them. I blame the movie industry for making believe that the people would act otherwise.
Well, after we were pushed out of the door of the gas station, I was utterly frustrated, upset at the situation and the rude man, and needless to say, tired. Lee got a signal on his mobile phone at about this time, though, so there was a sign of hope! We rang for information and got connected to a taxi service in Killarney!! Within ten minutes, a taxi picked us up and by 8:30, we arrived at our destination.
All of my toes are twice the size they are regularly and Lee and I don't really feel any more in shape than when we started, but the views on the mountain were beautiful and it was a side of Ireland that I am happy to have seen. We were also blessed to not have any rain during this weekend-long adventure. Would we travel that long again? No. But, I took pictures along the journey to capture the frustration and majesty of it all.
Photographs are soon to come...the Internet is scarce where I live and I have to use Internet cafes to connect, but I will try to post the photos soon.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
"You sound like Barney"
As you can see from this post's title, I am standing out in Kenmare like a big purple dinosaur. This small town of 1,400 people (which is actually average size of a town in Ireland), have taken me in as their 'American.' In two days, the community has really welcomed me with open arms and my colleagues at the school have been extremely helpful and kind.
My plane ride over was a long one--including a 10-hour lay-over in Chicago. I flew from Cleveland at 6 A.M. on Saturday to Chicago, to Dublin, and then to Cork. By 5 P.M. on Sunday, I was in my little apartment. The apartment is gorgeous and my landlady is completely helpful--even teaching me how to make spaghetti with sauce last night! It's settled on one acre of land with a river running outside my back window. Simply beautiful and I couldn't ask for more!
The weather is the nicest it's been since summer! When I went to England last year, there was sunny weather for seven days straight, and the same is the forecast for Kenmare! I'm not drawing any conclusions, but how about that for coincidence. On my way to school, I see mountains, bridges, and waterways. A slight change from the snowy commute to New London.
At the boys' school, I arrived with high hopes and an energetic spirit for whatever may come my way. I was not disappointed. When the little children came into the school, I almost had a heart attack of cuteness overdose. Their accents, combined with their innocent faces and school uniforms was almost too much for me to handle. And still, on day two, they are just as sweet, polite, and eager to learn. I do miss my class in Ohio and their lovely personalities; but, in the same instance, it is amazing how fast I have moved on. I think it is because as a teacher, the class that I am working with now deserves my best interest and care, so they are my main concern for the next three weeks. After Easter break, I will be working at the girls' school, which undoubtedly will be just as sweet and polite as the boys.
For those of you who appreciate cute children quotations, the following are some that made me hold back a laugh:
"George Washington is on the dollar because he invented money."
"Barack Obama came into America for heart surgery."
Teacher: "What will you do if your button falls out?" I gave the teacher a weird look because I thought she said, "bottom" instead of "button."
Teacher: "Why would you like to live before electricity?" a) "I'm not afraid of it." b) "To be bigger than everyone. c) "To have cool weapons."
"America is by Australia! New Zealand! Brazil! Spain! Mexico!" Close...
"The sheep are lambing." "Can you say that in English?" "The sheep are lambing." This means that the sheep are having babies...I thought he was speaking Irish.
"You sound like Barney." I sang the 'clean-up' song.
I have two classes with children aging from five to seven. I can proudly say that in two days, I have learned all 54 boys' names--who are all in uniforms! This feat is harder than it sounds. Also, they have Irish lessons and sometimes mix their speech with Irish and English. I thought Gaelic was only a spoken language and not written, but there are books in Gaelic and their school signs are printed in both English and Gaelic. This language sounds like German, but it is spelled like French because you only pronounce some of the letters. I have just been recording names phonetically for now, though.
One more tricky thing: the teachers here teach EVERY subject (reading, writing, maths, art, p.e., drama, science, social studies, music). So, tomorrow, I am faced with the task of teaching P.E. I suppose this means that I should actually exercise? I'll be teaching them a bit about basketball and how to play "knock-out" because it was actually a game that I was good at on the playground and something new for them.
Cool fact: The children take Irish dancing lessons during school once a week. I think this is a wonderful idea and a great way for the country to keep a high level of pride for its heritage and traditions. I might teach swing dancing if I get a job in the States...just have to learn it first.
My plane ride over was a long one--including a 10-hour lay-over in Chicago. I flew from Cleveland at 6 A.M. on Saturday to Chicago, to Dublin, and then to Cork. By 5 P.M. on Sunday, I was in my little apartment. The apartment is gorgeous and my landlady is completely helpful--even teaching me how to make spaghetti with sauce last night! It's settled on one acre of land with a river running outside my back window. Simply beautiful and I couldn't ask for more!
The weather is the nicest it's been since summer! When I went to England last year, there was sunny weather for seven days straight, and the same is the forecast for Kenmare! I'm not drawing any conclusions, but how about that for coincidence. On my way to school, I see mountains, bridges, and waterways. A slight change from the snowy commute to New London.
At the boys' school, I arrived with high hopes and an energetic spirit for whatever may come my way. I was not disappointed. When the little children came into the school, I almost had a heart attack of cuteness overdose. Their accents, combined with their innocent faces and school uniforms was almost too much for me to handle. And still, on day two, they are just as sweet, polite, and eager to learn. I do miss my class in Ohio and their lovely personalities; but, in the same instance, it is amazing how fast I have moved on. I think it is because as a teacher, the class that I am working with now deserves my best interest and care, so they are my main concern for the next three weeks. After Easter break, I will be working at the girls' school, which undoubtedly will be just as sweet and polite as the boys.
For those of you who appreciate cute children quotations, the following are some that made me hold back a laugh:
"George Washington is on the dollar because he invented money."
"Barack Obama came into America for heart surgery."
Teacher: "What will you do if your button falls out?" I gave the teacher a weird look because I thought she said, "bottom" instead of "button."
Teacher: "Why would you like to live before electricity?" a) "I'm not afraid of it." b) "To be bigger than everyone. c) "To have cool weapons."
"America is by Australia! New Zealand! Brazil! Spain! Mexico!" Close...
"The sheep are lambing." "Can you say that in English?" "The sheep are lambing." This means that the sheep are having babies...I thought he was speaking Irish.
"You sound like Barney." I sang the 'clean-up' song.
I have two classes with children aging from five to seven. I can proudly say that in two days, I have learned all 54 boys' names--who are all in uniforms! This feat is harder than it sounds. Also, they have Irish lessons and sometimes mix their speech with Irish and English. I thought Gaelic was only a spoken language and not written, but there are books in Gaelic and their school signs are printed in both English and Gaelic. This language sounds like German, but it is spelled like French because you only pronounce some of the letters. I have just been recording names phonetically for now, though.
One more tricky thing: the teachers here teach EVERY subject (reading, writing, maths, art, p.e., drama, science, social studies, music). So, tomorrow, I am faced with the task of teaching P.E. I suppose this means that I should actually exercise? I'll be teaching them a bit about basketball and how to play "knock-out" because it was actually a game that I was good at on the playground and something new for them.
Cool fact: The children take Irish dancing lessons during school once a week. I think this is a wonderful idea and a great way for the country to keep a high level of pride for its heritage and traditions. I might teach swing dancing if I get a job in the States...just have to learn it first.
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