Since I have not found much to do in Kenmare, I decided to create my own adventure--just like those really handy choose-your-own-adventure books that fulfill the schizophrenic in all of us. In this case though, there was really one outcome, I just did not have the option of going back 15 pages and safely escaping the absurdity that awaited me.
Last Saturday, I decided that I would walk to Moll's Gap 10 kilometers out of Kenmare. It was a beautiful day with no clouds in the sky and warm sunshine on my shoulders...and it made me happy. Going on long walks is not just a line I can put in a personal ad, but it is actually something that brings me clarity.
Well, two hours later, I made it to the gap. Over hill and dale I walked and past angry, snobby sheep. This is not an exaggeration. The sheep wait until you get close enough to take a good photograph of them and then they turn around, "baa" to their friends, and they all walk away. Rude.
At the gap, I sat on the edge of a cliff and ate Doritos while drinking lemonade that I packed. Pondering while gazing over Irish countryside: check. Just as I was getting ready to turn back to Kenmare, choose-your-own-adventure twist number 1...
A man stopped his car and asked if I was enjoying the view. Immediately my mind flashed to a scene from a Lifetime movie and I made an escape plan to run to safety. A few meters up the road, there was a shop and cafe and there were people outside eating, so I could have yelled for help, if need be. I told him that I thought it was a nice day and then packed my 'picnic' into my knapsack. He then proceeded to pull his car over to my side of the road and told me he was on his way to Bantry for a gig. For the next hour, this man named Kevin Foley played songs on his guitar at Moll's Gap and told me stories of his life. I thought the situation was bizarre and really just wanted to be going on my way. Anyway, it happened and I'm fine.
Choose-your-own-adventure 2...
I walked to that cafe and shop at the top of Moll's Gap to see what tourist merchandise I could pass up. Then, after about ten minutes inside, a group of American kids came walking in! Apparently, they were touring the U.K. and Ireland singing in churches as part of their spring break. The singers were from California--"the Bay Area"--and their faces were fresh off the scenes of The Hills or Laguna Beach. It was nice to chat with fellow Americans who were very friendly and with whom I could share some travel stories. At last, we bid adieu and went our separate ways.
Choose-your-own-adventure 3...
Still walking, I headed back down the mountain toward Kenmare and the weather was still bright, sunny, and warm--very unusual for Ireland. Not far from the shop, a sheep had escaped from the fence and was marching on the street! Sheep are much larger when they're on your side of the fence, let me tell you. I was afraid that the sheep would think that I was its enemy and ram me with its curly horns. (At this point, the sheep was choosing my adventure and I was worried I wouldn't make it to the end of the book.) I also started worrying for its life because following its path inside the fence was a little baby lamb--that sheep was some lamb's mother. So, I had to do something no matter how badly I was scared that I would be chased down the mountain by that sheep. A car came racing up the road and I warned it of the sheep with arms above my head, and that worked that time. But this wasn't enough. I was worried that the little lamb would either see its mother get hit by a car or a car would swerve to miss the sheep and cause a wreck. What else could I do but call 999? So, I did. "Hi. I'm walking from Moll's Gap to Kenmare down the mountain and I just wanted to let you know that there is a sheep in the road. I just think that someone should tell the farmer to put the sheep back in the fence because I don't want the sheep to get killed or anybody to get in a car wreck trying to avoid it." The guards (policemen) were thankfully not perturbed with my efforts and said that they would check on it, but also that it is a frequent occurrence.
For the most part, that was the end of my adventurous day. I looked for and found adventure in one of the quietest towns in Ireland so I feel like I accomplished something. Also, I got a sunburn in Ireland--who would've thought?
Philosophical riddle: If a girl sings while walking down a mountain and no one is around to hear her, does she make a sound?
No one could hear me, so it doesn't count. But, I sure did a rousing rendition of a Disney medley and Whitney Houston songs. I also realized that I do not know all of the words to any song other than Christmas songs if I don't have the music to sing along. This is weird, isn't it? We sing Christmas songs for less than one month of the year, but the songs are easiest to remember.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Recess-ion
I know there have to be places in Ireland that are experiencing a recession, but it is not in Kenmare. Things are ridiculously overpriced in this town and people are regularly filling the shops to buy the expensive designer wear and wool sweaters. Yes, some of the people are in fact on holiday and are spending their hard-earned money; but, the others are townies and are most definitely living the life.
People can spend their money how they want--I don't care. What annoys me is that the people in Kenmare have uttered the word 'recession' more times than they say 'hello' to the person they pass on the sidewalk. As far as I can see, there is no recession here. Girls talk about money-troubled times in one sentence and then a minute later can say how they are buying a dress to wear to a wedding for 215 Euros. Puh-lease.
Most of the children I teach are in the middle class group, which I can relate to; but, there are some on the extremes of the socioeconomic backgrounds, too. In one instance, I was waiting outside with a little girl for her parents to pick her up after school. I asked her what car we were looking out for and she said, "Well, my dad drives the silver Mercedes and my mom drives the black BMW." Oh. Right. I was just fishing for more of a color or style, like mini-van or truck or car.
Just a hunch, but Ireland: You're gonna make it after all (Mary Tyler Moore). I wouldn't worry about any economic crumble.
People can spend their money how they want--I don't care. What annoys me is that the people in Kenmare have uttered the word 'recession' more times than they say 'hello' to the person they pass on the sidewalk. As far as I can see, there is no recession here. Girls talk about money-troubled times in one sentence and then a minute later can say how they are buying a dress to wear to a wedding for 215 Euros. Puh-lease.
Most of the children I teach are in the middle class group, which I can relate to; but, there are some on the extremes of the socioeconomic backgrounds, too. In one instance, I was waiting outside with a little girl for her parents to pick her up after school. I asked her what car we were looking out for and she said, "Well, my dad drives the silver Mercedes and my mom drives the black BMW." Oh. Right. I was just fishing for more of a color or style, like mini-van or truck or car.
Just a hunch, but Ireland: You're gonna make it after all (Mary Tyler Moore). I wouldn't worry about any economic crumble.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Sleeping Beauty
I am working in two classrooms at the girls’ school, like I did at the boys’ school. One classroom in particular is similar to entering Disney’s Magic Kingdom for the first time—everyone finds their inner three-year-old. The teacher is about five feet ten inches tall and has long blonde hair with a perfect complexion and the shiniest smile and prettiest sense of style this town might ever see. She honestly looks like Sleeping Beauty. Also, she carries herself with such grace and care that everything she says sounds like the words of a queen. The girls in her class quite obviously love coming to school everyday because they are treated like princesses and called things such as “my pet” and told that they are a “star.” I even got called a ‘star’ for gluing pages into a scrapbook…I didn’t know quite how to take that.
The whole thing is quite overwhelming with the perfect-ness of it all. I quite like working in both of the classrooms, but the other class is less Magic Kingdom and more Punky Brewster. It’s quirky and cool and more real. The teacher is maybe twenty years older than Sleeping Beauty, but she reminds me of Courtney Cox’s character on Friends mixed with my mom. I shall call her Momica. (Just made that one up and I’m not sure anyone will ever appreciate the name as much as I do.)
Academic Moment: One aspect of the teaching that I really like about the Irish school system is the individualized reading schedule to which the students adhere. For instance, everyone gets different book(s) nightly before they go home and the books are swapped or rotated the next day. The books are all typed on a master list of titles and reading levels. Then the date on which they were toted home is recorded for each student’s individual list for record-keeping. The students also read their books individually to a teacher’s assistant or the teacher herself and practice vocabulary words with their own set of mini-flashcards. The flashcards provide a good way for parents to easily get involved with their child’s learning and for the child to practice high frequency words on her own.
The whole thing is quite overwhelming with the perfect-ness of it all. I quite like working in both of the classrooms, but the other class is less Magic Kingdom and more Punky Brewster. It’s quirky and cool and more real. The teacher is maybe twenty years older than Sleeping Beauty, but she reminds me of Courtney Cox’s character on Friends mixed with my mom. I shall call her Momica. (Just made that one up and I’m not sure anyone will ever appreciate the name as much as I do.)
Academic Moment: One aspect of the teaching that I really like about the Irish school system is the individualized reading schedule to which the students adhere. For instance, everyone gets different book(s) nightly before they go home and the books are swapped or rotated the next day. The books are all typed on a master list of titles and reading levels. Then the date on which they were toted home is recorded for each student’s individual list for record-keeping. The students also read their books individually to a teacher’s assistant or the teacher herself and practice vocabulary words with their own set of mini-flashcards. The flashcards provide a good way for parents to easily get involved with their child’s learning and for the child to practice high frequency words on her own.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Green Day
I have arrived safely back in Ireland and am now in my second leg of teaching. Monday was my first day in the all-girls school and it is much quieter during the day and the lessons go by much quicker since the girls do not need to be reminded at least 10 times to stay on track. Learning names of 58 girls is a difficult task. Their uniforms are much more varied than the boys’ ever were and their hairstyles change from morning to afternoon. Teaching is much easier with an attentive audience and students who are not constantly talking over one another and shouting out answers. I am not saying that I prefer one over the other because I would actually love to stick with the mixture of boys and girls. I feel like the calmness of the girls does round out the loud edges of the boys.
In contrast, I believe that the boys’ effect on the girls’ cunning gossip subdues it for at least a couple of years. On the playground, the boys were always loud and involved in a game of football (soccer) or Power Rangers. It was easy to tell when a conflict arose and when a boy explained his strife, the entire conflict resolution session took about three minutes—maximum. In the girls’ yard, things are a bit different. It is incredibly difficult to tell when girls are ‘just playing’ or are congregating to make someone feel left out. And when one girl does call on me to explain her issue, then it could take upwards of three minutes to explain, then two minutes for me to understand exactly what the story is, and then five minutes to talk about the problem with the others involved. Girls are complicated! Sorry, Boys. Note: The girls I am working with are five-years to seven-years-old. If we are complicated by age five in any country, then I genuinely do feel bad for the male population. Just imagine how hard it is going to be for the boys in this town to transition from an all-boys school to the mixed secondary school after being segregated for 13 years! It will be like another world…or a zoo with a new species.
A side note about the state of Ireland right now: The weather is absolutely beautiful. The last three days have been similar to an Ohio summer with sunshine and warm sunrays. I am so appreciative to not be wearing four layers of clothing when I go to work in the school.
In contrast, I believe that the boys’ effect on the girls’ cunning gossip subdues it for at least a couple of years. On the playground, the boys were always loud and involved in a game of football (soccer) or Power Rangers. It was easy to tell when a conflict arose and when a boy explained his strife, the entire conflict resolution session took about three minutes—maximum. In the girls’ yard, things are a bit different. It is incredibly difficult to tell when girls are ‘just playing’ or are congregating to make someone feel left out. And when one girl does call on me to explain her issue, then it could take upwards of three minutes to explain, then two minutes for me to understand exactly what the story is, and then five minutes to talk about the problem with the others involved. Girls are complicated! Sorry, Boys. Note: The girls I am working with are five-years to seven-years-old. If we are complicated by age five in any country, then I genuinely do feel bad for the male population. Just imagine how hard it is going to be for the boys in this town to transition from an all-boys school to the mixed secondary school after being segregated for 13 years! It will be like another world…or a zoo with a new species.
A side note about the state of Ireland right now: The weather is absolutely beautiful. The last three days have been similar to an Ohio summer with sunshine and warm sunrays. I am so appreciative to not be wearing four layers of clothing when I go to work in the school.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Terminal
I have realized now the loneliest feeling in the world: traveling alone in an airport. This feeling does not hit really until just after a holiday or time away with a significant other. For two weeks in England, I was lucky enough to go on dates and mini-trips with Lee and we were inseparable. It was a truly lovely time and being back in England made it all the better.
But, departing on my own to the train, buses, and airplane back to Ireland was heart wrenching. Traveling alone is extremely quiet. The only person to talk to is yourself and you have to keep that conversation in your head or you will definitely be lonely, but for other reasons. So, for hours and hours, the only person to keep you company is yourself and all the while, you are longing to be back with your significant other or in your new destination. No one really wants to be in an airport, do they? The people traveling are either leaving something good behind or they are going somewhere wonderful…the airport is just the middle-man.
It is a good thing that the people in Europe rarely ask, ‘how are you doing?’ because if someone would have actually shown concern, I probably would have started crying. That’s all it would have taken: one speck of consideration—genuine or otherwise.
Eating alone is even worse right after leaving a loved-one behind especially when the time until the next meeting is indefinite. The day before, enjoying a meal together was done without a second-thought and life was fun and fancy free with a walk along the riverside after dinner. Then, the next day suddenly everything is silent and a ‘table for one’ is not embarrassing or unique, but rather a challenge to get through an entire plate of food without sobbing in it. One glance at the chair across from you will send you over the edge, so the entire meal is spent avoiding eye contact with that black abyss. And in those moments of weakness, evade even biting your food because you will not taste anything for the big knot in your throat where despair is welling-up. A low-lit restaurant is key so that if your eyes get red with sadness, the shadows will disguise any signs of weary.
The goal of getting through the airport is to get through it. That’s all. I made it through, but I have decided that I will limit any independent, single-lady (Beyoncé) traveling in the future.
But, departing on my own to the train, buses, and airplane back to Ireland was heart wrenching. Traveling alone is extremely quiet. The only person to talk to is yourself and you have to keep that conversation in your head or you will definitely be lonely, but for other reasons. So, for hours and hours, the only person to keep you company is yourself and all the while, you are longing to be back with your significant other or in your new destination. No one really wants to be in an airport, do they? The people traveling are either leaving something good behind or they are going somewhere wonderful…the airport is just the middle-man.
It is a good thing that the people in Europe rarely ask, ‘how are you doing?’ because if someone would have actually shown concern, I probably would have started crying. That’s all it would have taken: one speck of consideration—genuine or otherwise.
Eating alone is even worse right after leaving a loved-one behind especially when the time until the next meeting is indefinite. The day before, enjoying a meal together was done without a second-thought and life was fun and fancy free with a walk along the riverside after dinner. Then, the next day suddenly everything is silent and a ‘table for one’ is not embarrassing or unique, but rather a challenge to get through an entire plate of food without sobbing in it. One glance at the chair across from you will send you over the edge, so the entire meal is spent avoiding eye contact with that black abyss. And in those moments of weakness, evade even biting your food because you will not taste anything for the big knot in your throat where despair is welling-up. A low-lit restaurant is key so that if your eyes get red with sadness, the shadows will disguise any signs of weary.
The goal of getting through the airport is to get through it. That’s all. I made it through, but I have decided that I will limit any independent, single-lady (Beyoncé) traveling in the future.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Friends
Visiting friends you have not seen in a long time is like opening a time capsule. Have they changed? Have you changed?
Luke, Anu, and Jak met up with me at Edge Hill to go out for lunch and see the old town on Tuesday. These three have been so caring over the last year with keeping in touch and we have been keeping tabs on what one another is up to. Edge Hill has changed so much in just one year! The campus has two new halls and a new sporting complex is in the works! For such a humble little university, it is certainly transforming into a college that is slowly taking over Ormskirk--kind of like the way Ashland University is soaking up any open land remaining in Ashland. Le Frog Bistro is no longer and old shops have new names, new owners, and new employees. I went back to my most-frequented stores, but was unable to locate any of my favourite shopkeepers. The strangest was ASOS where Joe and Gemma worked. It used to be a dress shop where I would go once a week and it was always pumping the latest tracks out of the speakers. Now, it has a new name and on the top floor holds boys' clothes and a single barber chair? 'Twas very strange.
My friends and I did grab a bite to eat at Disraeli's and catching up with them over good food and conversation in my favourite English town was the happiest I have been since arriving back in Europe. I felt so comfortable, like I was in the right place. Also, finally seeing people who only existed through Facebook pictures for a year was like seeing a storybook come to life. ("I'm a real boy, now!")
So, thank you all for meeting up with me! I know that many of my friends are home for Easter break and it was not possible for them to come back to visit. Hello to all of you and I hope that you have a great holiday at home! I will see you next time around.
Luke, Anu, and Jak met up with me at Edge Hill to go out for lunch and see the old town on Tuesday. These three have been so caring over the last year with keeping in touch and we have been keeping tabs on what one another is up to. Edge Hill has changed so much in just one year! The campus has two new halls and a new sporting complex is in the works! For such a humble little university, it is certainly transforming into a college that is slowly taking over Ormskirk--kind of like the way Ashland University is soaking up any open land remaining in Ashland. Le Frog Bistro is no longer and old shops have new names, new owners, and new employees. I went back to my most-frequented stores, but was unable to locate any of my favourite shopkeepers. The strangest was ASOS where Joe and Gemma worked. It used to be a dress shop where I would go once a week and it was always pumping the latest tracks out of the speakers. Now, it has a new name and on the top floor holds boys' clothes and a single barber chair? 'Twas very strange.
My friends and I did grab a bite to eat at Disraeli's and catching up with them over good food and conversation in my favourite English town was the happiest I have been since arriving back in Europe. I felt so comfortable, like I was in the right place. Also, finally seeing people who only existed through Facebook pictures for a year was like seeing a storybook come to life. ("I'm a real boy, now!")
So, thank you all for meeting up with me! I know that many of my friends are home for Easter break and it was not possible for them to come back to visit. Hello to all of you and I hope that you have a great holiday at home! I will see you next time around.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
The Graduate
Last Friday was my final day at the boys' school in Kenmare. No, I didn't cry--I have found peace with moving on from the old to new experiences. I was sad to be leaving their little faces (essentially) forever, though. With the child protection laws in Ireland, I would have had to get all of the parents' permission to get a class photo. Just a casual photo of all of the 54 students together would have required permission slips--had I known this earlier, then I would have arranged it. Now I'll just have to live with the memories.
The pleasant thing about leaving is surprisingly finding out that your work was appreciated. I teach because I feel like that is my intention in life and I cannot see myself doing anything else. Children's learning is important to me and I want to be a part of teaching as many children as I can. What I forgot to realize is that these children do go home and talk about their teachers. Because of this, on my last day, I got two Easter eggs, a Kenmare magnet, two bouquets of daffodils, a lotion and shower gel set, a chocolate Easter bunny, and lots of notes from parents and students. That is the only moment I got teary-eyed. It was surprising to see that so many of the kids had taken a liking to me and that their parents had appreciated my efforts at the school, too. (By the way, giving Easter eggs is a big deal in the UK and Ireland. These are huge chocolate eggs that come with extra chocolates and toys on the side. There are many brands and types to choose from and they are not hard-boiled or dyed.)
While I moved on from the boys' school and am now preparing to go to the girls', I'm finding a lot of life-changing events coming my way in the next few weeks. I will be graduating on May 8 and I am actually really nervous about this. I don't get nervous about much, but with graduation approaching, I feel like I'm being pushed at 100 miles per hour with a blindfold held tightly over my eyes. I know that life will go on after college, but the uncertainty of where I will be teaching is driving me crazy. Going to college is easy--do the work, go to class, participate, and that's it. Now things are going to be up in the air without a plan or schedule, and that is not easy for me to prepare for.
I know that everything always works out, but right now I feel like I am running to the edge where I will free fall and where no constant exists.
The pleasant thing about leaving is surprisingly finding out that your work was appreciated. I teach because I feel like that is my intention in life and I cannot see myself doing anything else. Children's learning is important to me and I want to be a part of teaching as many children as I can. What I forgot to realize is that these children do go home and talk about their teachers. Because of this, on my last day, I got two Easter eggs, a Kenmare magnet, two bouquets of daffodils, a lotion and shower gel set, a chocolate Easter bunny, and lots of notes from parents and students. That is the only moment I got teary-eyed. It was surprising to see that so many of the kids had taken a liking to me and that their parents had appreciated my efforts at the school, too. (By the way, giving Easter eggs is a big deal in the UK and Ireland. These are huge chocolate eggs that come with extra chocolates and toys on the side. There are many brands and types to choose from and they are not hard-boiled or dyed.)
While I moved on from the boys' school and am now preparing to go to the girls', I'm finding a lot of life-changing events coming my way in the next few weeks. I will be graduating on May 8 and I am actually really nervous about this. I don't get nervous about much, but with graduation approaching, I feel like I'm being pushed at 100 miles per hour with a blindfold held tightly over my eyes. I know that life will go on after college, but the uncertainty of where I will be teaching is driving me crazy. Going to college is easy--do the work, go to class, participate, and that's it. Now things are going to be up in the air without a plan or schedule, and that is not easy for me to prepare for.
I know that everything always works out, but right now I feel like I am running to the edge where I will free fall and where no constant exists.
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