One day in all the days

Okay, five days is a bit of a lull. It's mostly been spent getting used to my class schedule: loving my Islam and the West seminar, knocking my head against the brick wall of MSA, trying to keep up with darija. (I find myself understanding every 10th word spoken by my family or by people on the bus.)

I've also been getting my head around what it means to live in and explore Rabat. It has been incredibly frustrating to realize both the limitations of the city and the limitations of my mobility in it - i.e. don't go there alone, don't sit there alone, don't try to do this by yourself.

Good discoveries included the English language bookstore right in my neighborhood, and a second visit to the Kasbah when it was actually sunny and a pleasant temperature (there was a storm blowing in from the Atlantic, but who's counting?) Oh! And the roof of Amideast - the one place you can find sun on a weekday morning.

More to come, including some more pictures, inshallah. Also, according to my friend Laura, google lists this very blog as your first stop for Lolcats: Rabat, so stay tuned! I will not let you down.

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running around the heath

(...and i very much mean "around," despite my most diligent efforts to go into this 790-acre, most elevated park in the city...)

it finally occurred to me this morning why i'm reluctant to go running in london. yes, i'm more out of shape than i'd like to be. yes, every morning i sit up in bed and gaze wistfully out onto the bright green courtyard that would be striped with morning sunlight if it wasn't pouring. but i've done distance running in literally the worst weather imaginable from the seventh grade onwards and a couple puddles don't bother me anymore. no, no: every time i set out to try a much-researched loop in the direction of the heath, i feel a pang of terror that i won't be able to find my way home.

with good reason, as i've gotten lost literally every time i've gone running here. it's an unfortunate and unavoidable conglomeration of factors: my sense of direction is more of a suspicion of direction; on principle (despite all logic) i refuse to ask for help; i also refuse just to run straight up the main road and back again because the area is so interesting; and there is not a single right angle between intersecting roads on the entire 19 pages of my london A-Z for my neighborhood (i checked). it is all frighteningly like a labyrinth, as I never know what direction I'm facing, and there are no spaces to peer through between buildings on each block. every time i do make it to another intersection, i look right, then left, and instead of having a clear view of the road's path, it veers or curves and i'm left staring at another solid wall of old buildings and an old lady watering her begonias.

this morning i set out to do the two miles to a running track in the heath, do a few 400s (for which i have been strangely nostalgic), and go back home. no problem. so i got my google walking directions, memorized the 10+ turns and veers and subtle forks, and set out. of course after about turn 3 i stop recognizing names and rely on my direction suspicions to find the edge of the heath, which is probably 5 miles of a solid wall of woods to the north-west. nope. i found three tube stops on different lines, four schools, a statue of a woman inexplicably bending over in what looked like a toga, but no heath.

next time i'm carrying my A-Z when i go on a run. yes, i will look ridiculous, but maybe it will finally lead me to the expansive yet quite clandestine center of this london labyrinth.....

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My bags are packed, I'm ready to go

Well, I managed to pack a suitcase between 45 and 50lbs. I'm unsure exactly how heavy it is, but I suppose I'll find that out on Friday. It's tough to gauge while holding a heavy suitcase in one hand and balancing on a scale. If the Russian airline makes me pay a fee anyway (the limit is 44lbs.) so be it. I did the best I can.

My mom and I are driving to Chicago tomorrow to spend the night before my flight on Friday afternoon. We didn't want to deal with traffic on the day of or a cancellation of an Indy-to-Chicago flight, so we decided to drive. It's about 3 hours by car, and I get to see two VIPs while I am there. I think it was the best choice.

I fly out Friday evening from O'Hare and arrive in Domodedovo Airport in Moscow. I have a long layover tour of Moscow before I get on a Russian domestic flight to Irkutsk. I'm expecting the jet-lag to be epic...I leave on Friday around 5pm and arrive Sunday at 7am local time. At least I have Sunday to sleep before beginning classes on Monday.

Indianapolis got 11 inches of snow between last night and this morning. It's another little taste of Siberia, a la Indiana. Thanks for confirming my love of snow.

I am the only one on this blog still in the 'States. I suppose I should enjoy it--eat lots of peanut butter, wear sweatpants in public, that kind of thing. ;-) I'll post again as soon as I get internet access in Irkutsk!

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Sea Views!

A quick 360-degree video of the view from the Kasbah (yes, that thing you're supposed to rock) des Oudaias. Out the other end of the terrace are the quiet little streets of the kasbah, painted blue and full of cats. We also spent a fair amount of time in the medina, and one nice vendor even let us play with a "magic box" that has not only a hidden lock but a hidden key, so you have to find the key and then la serrure before you can open it. Very cool. Okay, so watch the video!


And this morning I went to the hammam with my sisters. Oola. Two hours of scrubbing, rinsing, and covering myself with henna goop, then clay - both of which totally bring out the four year old in you. There was also an interesting moment when a woman just passing by helped me rinse my back.

The thing about Morocco is that there are very specific spaces that have been set aside for men and women. For me, seeing a dozen outdoor cafe tables with only men sitting at them is something subtly but deeply unnerving - I know that I'm not welcome, that particular cafe is not my space. But the women's hammam, while more welcoming of me, is just as deeply coded to be unwelcome to men. I'm also puzzling out what might be a close equivalent, space-wise, to the hammam I was at today. My experience with American spas and nail/beauty parlors is far from extensive.

(Speaking of coded spaces: Just wait until I've done my research on gender in the physical space of the mosque. Weeley weeley weely! [that's darija for Oooolala!])

Squeaky clean Chiara signing out.

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Snow? Haha!

Everyone else is posting about weather so I thought I'd rub it in that I have absolutely amazing weather here.  It's warm and beautiful every day, and cuddly cats continue to roam the streets.  My roommate turned out to be amazing, but she moved out.  So now I'm going to get a new Israeli roommate plus I'm friends with my old one so I guess I'll get two Israeli acquaintances for the price of one.  I switched into a higher Hebrew class, and I'm doing pretty well in it so yay.  One of my American friends had her birthday this weekend so a group of us celebrated by going to Tel-Aviv and hanging out with some of her Israeli friends from camp and going to a club.  She has a friend from camp who showed us around, and we met his army friends who told me all about what it was like serving in Gaza back when there were settlers there...in Hebrew...and I understood!  They had some really great stories.  And all in all, it was really fun to be in Tel-Aviv.  Meanwhile, here in Jerusalem, there's a coffee shop right next to my dorm that has amazing sandwiches and free internet...they already know me by name!  I have discovered shoko, a milk drink with chocolate in it that is amazing when hot.  I think we should change the name of this blog to Coffee, Tea, Vodka, and Guinness...and Shoko!  My Hebrew classes are only a few hours a day, and my semester doesn't start until Feb. 22 so basically I'm having a great time here relaxing and enjoying the city.

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Obama + Orchestra = Best Night Ever

i had titled this entry "a night of BO and the LSO" when i registered Obama's initials for the first time. i bet he had a rough third grade. like my classmate from about the same age, Ashley Sylvia Solomon. ashley, if you're out there, i'm sorry about that. i'm sure the boys are too. well, maybe.

but anyway, i wanted to give a snapshot of my unique rendition of the much-anticipated 20th of january. i ended up streaming the ceremony from my laptop in my room, which was actually really cool. i turned off the lights and sat there, just listening to him. the african american studies major in me (thanks, prof. eudell) certainly has a significant number of doubts about the coming years, but i'm also damn excited. and hopeful, and so astounded that he did it. just think, we were all sitting on that hill last may watching him speak, saying "only a miracle will get him nominated"... it was a really spiritual thing, sitting, just me and obama's voice, so very far away from it all but still hearing people cheering upstairs in their british accents.

and soon thereafter i took off on the tube for barbican hall, home of the world-renowned london symphony orchestra. they just so happened to be playing latin-american composers that night, who just so happened to be my three all-time favorites. on inauguration night. i also managed to get a seat in the very front of the hall, right in front of the concertmaster and conductor, both of whom glanced down at different points and smiled, probably because they could feel me staring at them all up in their business. because the front row, mind you, is basically on the stage (and very much under the lights) in this place. but it didn't bother me. so after an afternoon of just me and obama, i had a night of just me and the LSO. whew. before the encore, the soloist of a ginastera piece made an announcement about how honored he is to play with the LSO, and how powerful it is to be playing right after such a momentous occasion in the USA. and, lo and behold, the entire hall of however many hundreds of quite not-american people, started cheering "obama! obama!" and then the LSO played a thunderously crazy and beautiful piece by Rivueltas. that is my kind of celebration right there. i may or may not have been in tears.

For everyone in middletown, say hello to Wes for me. it's really a weird feeling, now that you're back, being able to picture you together there. i've grown quite a liking for the place, i must admit...

anyway, enough from me. happy inauguration, and beginning of semester. i miss you.

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Inauguration!

To all Yanks reading: Yeah Obama! In just a bit I will go upstairs to watch the ceremony on CNN. We're all pretty psyched, even though around and about there isn't much talk about it (and forget about MLK Jr. Day - I needed a reminder myself).

The news here across the board has been far more focused on Gaza - to be expected from a Muslim country, even one that has close ties to the U.S. and European supporters of Israel. Let's see if I can do this in a balanced way:

First of all, the news footage they show here, from my American perspective, tells a whole lot more of the truth than the sanitized, eight-second loop of night-goggle video that we usually see in the U.S. Shots of children crying get immediate preference - but you also get a no-holds-barred look at the rubble, the injuries, shots of soldiers, civilians, and aid workers. They have green screen maps for the bomb sites or clash points that make it look like they're announcing the weather.

THAT SAID, you can tell right off that the news is biased. All of the reporting, for this invasion at least, has come from within Gaza or elsewhere in Palestine, nothing from inside Israel and no nod to the injuries or damage on that side.

In the end, my opinion of the whole thing is not what matters - and even without posting anything about the invasion, the news, or Israel I've already gotten a troll-tastic commenter. I'm abroad to learn and observe. So now that I've merited it a bit more, go right ahead. I'm psyched about the inauguration today, and as the Moroccans say, safi (that's enough, that suffices).

Let me know how you all are celebrating!

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Siberia Comes to Indiana

This past week the Northern half of the United States experienced an Arctic chill. One of my friends texted me that I didn't need to go to Siberia anymore...Siberia had come to me. It was actually colder in Indianapolis last Friday (-13 F..without factoring in windchill) than it was in Irkutsk that same day. Needless to say, I've been checking the weather compulsively each day, comparing the winter weather I am experiencing here to the weather I will fly into February 1st.

Currently, I am sitting at home in Indiana. Back home again after a week in Baltimore, with two more weeks to go until I am sitting at my new home in a dormitory in Irkutsk. I am glad to have the extra-long winter break to prepare, but part of me just wants to go already. But I still I have doctors appointments to go to, packing lists to make, emails to write, and people to spend time with.

Somewhat news-worthy, I know much more about where I am going, with whom I will be living, and which classes I will be taking. I have a long layover in Moscow, so I will get to tour the city with the SRAS Moscow site director before continuing on to Irkutsk. Once in Irkutsk, I will be in the international dormitory with three other students, one American and two students from Asia (probably Mongolia/China/Korea...I'm not sure yet). I have already made a friend at the university, the niece of the assistant director of the LRC at Wesleyan. We've been emailing back and forth (in Russian, of course!), and she is living in the dorms, too. In terms of classes, there are two environmental science-related courses being offered this semester, a general course on Ecology and another on the Ecology of Wildlife Management. If these both work into my schedule, I will be so very happy.

I have enjoyed being able to read about all the other adventures being shared on this blog. I am just surprised how behind I am. When you are all back in the 'States, I will still be chilling in Siberia. Yeah, chilling. Although, by June it'll be in the 70s--again, I've been checking the weather too much.

I will surely write again in two weeks. Until then, I'll be living vicariously in Rabat, Cork, London, and Jerusalem while I strategically pack my life into a 44lb. suitcase at home in Indianapolis.

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The Museum of Morocco

Hi gang, I'm updating from my homestay, a large apartment near the Gare de Rabat and the Museum of Morocco which, technically, doesn't exist yet: it's a whole lot of poured cement, a crane or two and lots of work noise throughout the day.

I have three sisters, two of whom are at home, plus an aunt; all together it reminds me of hanging out with my cousins and sister, fast forwarded a few years (appropriately, I would end up in the aunt role).

Classes start tomorrow, and leading off is fusHa (Modern Standard Arabic) for three hours starting at 8:30. Aguh. That class is going to feel wonderful though, since I can actually form complete sentences in fusHa - in darija I've got nothing. I speak 80 percent French, 20 percent English with my sisters, French with mom and dad. They speak darija with each other, so I'd better get on that. Darija is quite the dialect - from an outside perspective, it's amusing to know that you can legitimately ask for information with words like "Shnou?" (What?) and "Shkoun?" (Who?).

Video house tour coming up soon. I know I keep promising multimedia, but I was stuck with spaztic hotel wifi - I'll get on an Amideast computer and make it happen.

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Bad news:  I don't have internet in my dorm.  Good news: I just found out that the cafe next to my dorm does.  I start Hebrew classes tomorrow, and I start my semester in late February.I was put in the second lowest Hebrew level, but the textbook for it is the same as the one I used in intermediate Hebrew, which I took before taking Hebrew lit, so I'm pretty sure I'll be able to switch out.  Jerusalem is incredibly beautiful.  It's like any typical big city except that every building is made of Jerusalem stone, which looks shiny and kind of yellow-ish when the sun hits it just right, which is where the term "Jerusalem of gold" comes from.  I met my roommate this morning for about five minutes in between her trip home for the weekend and her morning classes.  She seems nice enough so far.  There are a ton of cats on the streets, and I keep having to resist the urge to pick them up and pet them because if they bite me, I have to get a bajillion rabies shots...by law.  Yesterday, I went to the neighborhood I lived in in third grade, French Hill where I saw my old apartment complex, my old playground, and my old supermarket.  And of course, this meant that I had to buy all my old favorite foods that are particularly good in Israel: a pudding/whipped cream combo snackpack-like thing called milky, bisli (the snacks I sometimes gave out in Alpha Delt), a spice called zaatar, amazing olives and pickles, freshly made pita, and super creamy hummus that even Sabra can't compare to.  And I took advantage of finally being the legal drinking age by buying some good Israeli wine.  In short, these last few days have been a great combination of feeling nostalgia for my life when I lived here in third grade and excitement about my new life, which is slowly coming together.  And of course, I also miss everyone at home.

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Meanwhile, back in Hampstead...

today marks my two-week anniversary of abroad-itude, and i must say time is doing its somewhat familiar but always-surprising warp, where i feel like i've only just gotten here but left home so very long ago. perhaps the days all seem to clump together because of the weather patterns, if "pattern" is the right word (see above, if it's legible). sometimes when i wake up and (try to) go running it has rained already and is foggy and dim, and other days it's about to rain, and is foggy and dim. though i maintain that i am head-over-heels for this city, i no longer question the somewhat dejected faces of the people walking by me in their routines relatively uninterrupted by the weather, something i have quite counted on in the past without realizing it. to meagerly compensate, i have taken to wearing as many annoyingly bright colors as possible.

classes still have yet to start, too, which makes me feel like i'm just a tourist. i've taken advantage of this position, however, and have taken bad touristy photos at: buckingham palace, the houses of parliament, the london eye, big ben, big ben from farther away, old unidentified cobblestone roads between cramped old buildings, myriad parks with ladies in high heels walking their terriers and older dignified british men awkwardly jogging in mismatched waterproof sweatgear. and the shopping. oh bother.

i've met a bunch of brits in my dorm, who are very nice but in the midst of exams. i also have a great small group of americans with whom i've been exploring, and after a certain wonderful experience on monday, have established that we're going to meet every week for (ready?) Monday Drag Queen Bingo Bar Night (as Timberlina explains "because it's bingo, in a bar, at night!" and everyone always thinks this is uproariously funny). discount beer, £1 a game, colorful roaming lights, and abba, queen, and so much more. what more could you need on a monday evening?

had an overwhelming-in-every-way weekend with hansel (as always) who was visiting on his way home to oxford, and some quality time with chris sutliff as he was passing through.

and i'm purely happy for the first time in a long while. much of it is being able to make my own schedule (still packed, but in a good way), and knowing that i'll be able to go as quickly or as slowly as i want for the next five months. i'm on my own a lot, too, which for whatever reason gives me so much good perspective and energy. i'm going to a London Symphony concert next week by myself and haven't looked more forward to a concert...ever.

so that's life on my dot on the map. i'll be here walking around, waiting to start the studying part of my study-abroad next week... stay in touch, as always.

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No other takers?

Okay, so it's been a few days, might as well bury my own post with another one.

I'm sitting at the Amideast center waiting to find out about my homestay family. If any of you have ever had to meet with Anne Greene on a regular basis, this is a bit like those meetings - ten minute slots assigned, and everything running heinously late.

The Amideast building is a funny place. There's a computer lab in the basement, reception on the first floor, and classrooms for three upper floors. I think it's a converted boarding house or hotel. Tea and coffee breaks are frequent - just when we've had too much darija or Orientating someone appears with trays of teapots and we get to take a pause.

We have the afternoon off. I'm dead nervous about moving in with a family on Saturday, but I guess it's like my overall abroad terror and it will evaporate eventually.

The weather has gotten much better since we arrived. The middle of the day is warm enough to go without a coat, and at the moment it's blue skies all around.
I'm running out to get food and mentally prep for darija, guh. Multimedia update soon.

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Lolcats: Rabat begins here.

This is why you all read the super-blog of internationality: while Jesse is being told not to go into Arab neighborhoods, I can't NOT be in an Arab neighborhood, and we're both in places that are carrying on almost as usual while the Gaza invasion goes on. We were told that it hasn't inspired any violence in Morocco, but there have been protests - and we are to avoid them.

I'm typing despite one very stiff hand: tonight we had a fancy dinner at a family home in the medina, complete with henna tattoos and gnaoua music - it involves iron castanets and an oud (splice a drum and a three-string guitar). And dancing.

This morning was my first darija (Moroccan) Arabic class, in which we all broke a sweat. The challenge is the fact that the basics are all different in darija - and all the more complicated vocab and grammar is exactly the same as Modern Standard. So once I switch myself from "na'am" to "iyeh" for "yes" I'll be halfway there. Ouf.

This afternoon we toured Sale and Chellah. Sale is across the river from the rest of Rabat, and part of what's over there is a complex of ateliers - pottery, basket weaving, tile and metal and leather workshops. I watched a potter make a tagine in two minutes flat, and the top and bottom fit together perfectly. I got to try the kick wheel! Must retrieve that picture from my friend Dante. Chellah is the ruins of a Roman town as well as a Merenid necropolis (see picture). Tons of huge storks and cats (I can haz sardine plz? Ruinz cat iz too cool for storkz). Pool with eels. Gorgeous views.

The subtext to this post is, essentially, that I am no longer terrified, as I was in several spots before leaving. I'm excited to be here and explore. I still feel like May is a really, really long way away... but there will be things to keep me occupied / amused / challenged while I'm here.

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I'm Here! I'm Here!...Almost

I haven't been in the same place for more than a week this break.  In order, I've been in Boston, Athens, Jamaica, Athens, Atlanta, Athens. Tomorrow, I leave for Newark, where I will stay with a family friend overnight.  On Tuesday, I get on a ten-hour flight for Israeli that arrives on Wednesday morning (Israel time).  Especially after reading my peers' blog entries and e-mails, I can't wait to finally go to Jerusalem and settle in, not only because I'm incredibly excited to be going to Jerusalem for the first time in nearly eleven years, but also I'm starting to feel a little bit like a nomad (though I'm happy to be in all the places I've been).

It's starting to sink in just how far away I'll be from everyone I know and love.  I took my sister to the World of Coca Cola, and I couldn't help thinking that so many of my friends would start talking about commercialism and corporate America, and I miss that.  At the same time, I'm getting  more excited every minute as my trip gets closer and closer.  After months of various crises (which is to be expected with Israeli bureaucracy), I now know that I will have a dorm room with an Israeli roommate.  These last few days, I've just been trying to practice my Hebrew as much as possible by listening to Israeli music and talking to my father in Hebrew.  And tonight, I'll watch an Israeli film...while I pack.  Oh yeah, I still haven't packed.  Haha!  Woops.

To those of you who are concerned about my safety:  Don't worry.  There hasn't been a suicide bomb in Jerusalem since 2004.  And I have been assured that the areas that are threatened right now are those within 40 km (about 25 miles) of the Gaza Strip.  Jerusalem is functioning the same as ever.  As a precaution, I have been told not to go to Arab neighborhoods in East Jerusalem or the Old City, but this is nothing new.  There are all kinds of security measures taken on campus, and there is a system with which the university can notify me of anything new.

And on that happy note, I will end this very long post.  As they say, next year...um, few days...in Jerusalem!

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Things you wouldn't expect

Rabat in January = Edinburgh in August.
We could see our breath leaving the airport this morning, it got up to a decent temperature midday, and it has been raining and cold for the past couple hours. Oh my numb toes.

I'm settled into my hotel, the wifi is kind of dependable, had tagine for lunch and a super-francais cafe creme comme snack. As predicted I stop to read street signs in Arabic simply because they're in Arabic, but a huge percentage of stuff is in French.

I would stay in and write more (read: sleep for the next fourteen hours) but lunch went right through me so I must venture out for dinner with the group. Lesson learned: vegetable tagine is not always robust enough. When off-the-plane hungry, get the meat.

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Vroom!

Oh good god enough making lists and running around and worrying - I'm finally getting some genuine let's-get-going feelings. That is, when I'm not feeling anxious or uncertain or annoyed at my program for leaving me in the dark about some pretty important things, i.e.:
I don't know who my host family will be in Rabat, nor do I know what languages they will speak, or how far from town/class they live. I don't know what the kids on my program will be like, or whether I'll place into the level of Arabic I want, or if I'll be able to obtain a bike to explore the city.
So packing and prepping continue. Tomorrow I'll visit the gorgeous Cathedral of St. John the Divine, which is blocks from my house and always makes me feel more connected to NYC as home. And then Friday I'll take a long succession of deep breaths... and get this show on the road.

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so THIS is london...

jet lag is a new flavor of tired for me. it's somewhere between post-middleschool-sleepover tired and dazed-after-busy-day tired, popping up and fading away like weather patterns at entirely irrational times. it's an unbalanced sort of tired. usually when i feel this mentally dead, i run until i'm at the same physical level, to gradually and evenly turn up the volume later on. and so, today i embarked on the ambitious journey of walking from my dorm in hampstead to around oxford street, pickadilly, soho, and i found the king's college strand campus at which i'll be studying, ending up being maybe 15 miles. as for london? wow. oh wow. wowow. i'm sure this is the "honeymoon" stage of culture shock that was described to me, but either way, this city is beautiful. but beautiful isn't even enough of a word. love at first sight? i'll work on that.

but i am terrifed. why, you ask? first time out of the country? weird, new academic system? don't know anybody yet? meh. it dawned upon me today walking down the bustling materialistic mecca of oxford street: somehow, my sense of fashion is european. or at least not quite american. i have been fruitlessly searching for an unidentified something in fashion ever since i reluctantly gave up my tomboyhood in high school, and that something is here. i must stay away. i mean, if i'm relegating myself to a diet of rice and soup for a semester, i probably shouldn't be buying £20 boots and skirts and hats and legwarmers left and right, right? i used to hate shopping, and now this. of course. oh bother.

well, i had intended on checking in to say i now have my single room complete with a working internet connection and a sink, waiting for classes to start on the 12th, but all this came out instead. despite that, happy new year. so far, i'm having a blast having time to myself and getting lost in this big city...

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I finally arrived in Cork yesterday. I have my own tiny room (all the better to feel like a queen next year), with my own shower, there is heating and internet, and I'm content. The plus of a room this size is you can't really let it get all that messy(most of you are probably muttering "she'll find a way"). I found out some interetsing things the other day, like the fact that "Guinness" means "healer" in Irish (which explains a lot) and that "Kennedy" means "son of an ugly head", which makes me wonder why anyne would keep such a name... I finally have internet access, which the last few days have made me realize how dependent I am upon. There was a huge anti war demonstration here this afternoon, on the main street here (St.Parick's street), which worried me just a tiny bit. First day of classes (or should I say modules?) is Monday, and so is our Cork orientation. I live in a flat with 6 other people, 5 of whom are American, the sixth I have yet to meet. One of my flatmates, Valerie, is extraordinary, in that she's a junior in college and has yet to do laundry or, until today, peel a potato! she does know how to make Mac and cheese, though. My building manager's name is Margaret and I feel like we are going to be friends, she's the strict but kind type, and reminds me a lot of Leslie in her brutal efficiency...give Leslie my regards. the most important word I learned so far is "slagging" which means teasing derrogatorily. I heard a funny story about this. My friend Kelsey's friend went here last year. This guy starts Slagging her (this is after several failed attempts to return-tease and to use Irish terminology correctly), and she says "oh, you're just snogging me", to which he says "not yet, I'm not..." (to those of you who do not watch british television snogging=kissing). Irish spelling baffles me,but I still kind of want to get into an Irish class...For example, the name Grainne is actually pronounced Gronya, go figure...
Oh, if any of you study abroad in europe in the future,your cell phones (or mobiles) can be unlocked so you can take the sIM card out and insert another for something around 10 Euro...I'm afraid of losing my SIM card, personally...If you're on skype, look me up, I expect to skype fairly regularly, since taht's my main mode of communicating with my family from here. I am very technologically challenged and lazy (need evidence? I have yet to post photos on facebook from Freshman year, because I'm never in the mood to deal with the disc) but soon, once I've taken a few more photos, i'll post some. Cork is great, it, too has a river which surrounds the center of the city. The river's name is the river Lee. Don't you love all those L's? I saw a frog garage can on the way here (in a public space) and my soap holder in my bathroom is a yellow rubber duckie...both of which make me happy...I hope my counterparts in Morocco, Israel, Russia and London report back to headquarters...Did you all scream on New Year's? The entirety of O'cconnel street (hte main street in Dublin) did! and so did I, after leaving the Panama Pub in search of couples less revolting thn the one that blocked the stairs, and walking to the McDoanlds, to watch the city welcome the new year.
More about how I gave a pint of Guinness to a stranger, and Corcaigh (Irish for Cork) next time.
Xaipe and Agus Slan,
D'or

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