1-11-11

First, Happy Dia de Los Muertos.  Today is also my Dad's birthday and I celebrate him today and everyday.   I know how painful it is sometimes to talk about those who are gone, as our hearts feel the missing piece every single day.  I know my Dad would be proud of me and my adventures and that he's with me always.  On this day, I celebrate not only him, but my grandparents, uncle, parent's of friends and so many others who touched my life in such an amazing way.

I promised myself I would keep this blog updated.  I really don't have an excuse either! I've had some great experiences over the last couple of months since my last post, but just haven't sat down and made myself write.  Home today, with a pulled back muscle, I'm actually forced to relax. I can' even cook or clean.  I have to sit here with my good friend the hot water bottle and try to move as little as possible.  It's not enjoyable in the least , but at least it's making me do a blog post!

Backtracking a bit, let me begin with Mom and Steve's visit last month.  We had an amazing time and it was exactly what I needed.  I was feeling really down, not being able to find a job or an apartment, but after they booked their trip, I found both.  In a way it wasn't ideal timing because I wanted to be more settled when they came, but the timing ended up being perfect for what I needed emotionally.  We had a wonderful couple of weeks exploring Dingle, Killarney and Claire.  Beautiful green coastlines with fog rolling in in the evenings, pubs at night for music and a hot whiskey.   The "meet the parents" could not have gone better and it really did feel like one big happy family. 

With a new apartment (love it!) and a new job (fine for now!) I'm feeling a bit more settled.  I'm looking forward to being settled, settled, but I'm trying to take the days as they come and be thankful for what I do have, right now.

The Land of Potatoes

I've heard more than one person say "If Ireland had great weather, it would be the most amazing place in the world".  It's baffling to me that, although the weather is predictably miserable, it's a constant topic of conversation.  I'm learning new phrases and vocabulary about the weather here...."oh, 'tis a nice, soft rain", " 'Tis cool, but 'tis dry".  If it's not pouring rain, it's a nice day!  It'll be cloudy and I'll be wearing 3 layers, but it's considered a nice day in most people's eyes.  However......all of the complaining aside, when the weather is nice, it is unbelievably beautiful.  August wasn't too bad, and coming back after being in Spain for 6 weeks, I must say I expected the worst, but a few mostly sunny weeks had me more optimistic.  But as the calendar page turned to September 1st, it's as if the clouds have rolled in to settle in for the winter.  Thank goodness my mom sent a package with my winter coat and wellies to get me through the coming months.  I'm just keeping my fingers crossed for my mom and Steve's visit...hoping we get a few nice days while they're here!

On with the stereotypical Irish topics.....Potatoes.  Another thing you'd think these lovely people would get tired of! But I suppose that with this unpredictable weather, comes the need for winter food 11 months out of the year.  Only here would you have a nice, hearty stew in August!!  We were at a wedding Friday and as my plate came out, my lovely steak was accompanied with roasted potatoes.  As the wait staff circled the room with sides, adding them to our plates, I realized that I had not two but THREE different potato dishes on my plate! Roasted, scalloped and mashed.  As I longingly looked around for someone offering salad or green vegetables, a girl came by and put about 6 snow peas on my plate.  I guess the green stuff doesn't keep you warm on those winter (or September) nights.  I really must say though, those potatoes (all of them) were delicious:)

This wedding was my third in Ireland and they still don't cease to amaze me.  I thought we threw pretty solid celebrations at home, but I must say, that endurance wise, the Irish put us to shame.  With Mass usually around 1 p.m. they usually have a few hours to go home and have sandwiches, or go to the nearby pub and get the party started.  Dinner is then served (see above) where you stuff yourself silly and the drinking continues.  The tables are cleared and dancing commences as the band starts, cranking out the tunes.  At Kevin's brother's wedding, the band was followed by traditional Irish musicians who went on around 1 am, followed by the dj, who played on until 5 or 6 in the morning.  At 1 a.m. or thereabouts, tea, coffee, and snacks (more POTATOES, sausages, cake, etc) are served (as if you need more food).  The next morning, everyone (after 15 hours of eating and drinking the day before) wake up for the full Irish breakfast...a plate full of 4 different types of pork and eggs (and maybe, you guessed it, some potatoes).  Everyone heads back into the bar to catch the Gaelic football match and have a pint.  I'm still recovering from the wedding Friday night, and hope I have a while until the next one, so I can prepare my stomach and liver, because I'm just not built like our Irish friends!

You can go with this...or you can go with that.....

I had the wonderful privilege of talking to two of my best friends on the phone last weekend. It's amazing the joy it brings. I often go months without talking to people, and it really makes me feel even further away when I feel like I'm losing contact. At the same time, I'm at the point in my life where I realize that having just a handful of great friends is all I need, no matter where they may be. It's those same people that when I do see them or talk to them, we haven't skipped a beat. Also, I'm really lucky to have made a few good friends while I've been in Europe, and although we may have only known each other for a year or two, our bond is so very strong. Teaching English, it's amazing how close you become with your co-workers as you are all away from home and on some kind of mission to lead a "different" kind of life. Traveling, working in different countries, moving every 6 months, being partially homeless during the summers. It all sounds exotic and exciting. However, after 3 years of this kind of lifestyle, I'm exhausted!
I think my friends and family tend to think that this kind of life is always exciting and easy. It's not! Yes, I might be living in a foreign country, bragging about my travels, the food I'm eating and the people I'm meeting. But we gypsies have hard days too. As an English teacher my income was never guaranteed, you get NO benefits and I really don't miss spending hours a day on the metro to get from class to class. Holidays seemed to occur once a week (St. something day) and these days you have off of work, but everything is closed, so forget trying to be productive. When I left Madrid, I really was truly frustrated and exhausted. But I wouldn't change that experience for the world....and I miss it like crazy.
Which leads me to now. As I talked to my friends this weekend, and in e-mails from family members there is a constant theme: "What are your plans?" I'm tired of this question! So here you go: Kevin finishes his Master's Degree this month (yay!) and he will be able to work on the business he has set up with two of his friends. They've been working on it for a year and I really hope they are able to get it off of the ground. www.dingadeal.com Check it out:) So we're giving it 6 months in Cork. I'm on the job and apartment hunt which are not panning out well so far. There are very few jobs here, so I might have to revert to retail or restaurant work for a few months. I'm so ready to have something steady and I look forward to moving back to the states in the next year. I need to put roots somewhere, and I think I'll appreciate those roots much more now that I've let the travel bug dictate my lifestyle for the last few years. I know travel will ALWAYS be a part of my life, but I can't wait to have a home to go back to.
In the meantime, I am focusing on finding what I truly want to do. I am allll over the place. I absolutely love teaching and think I will end up being a teacher one day. I happen to love teenagers, crazy, right? A part of me really wants to study again, and my day to day interests of photography and cooking come into mind. I want to do something good for the world (cliche point #1) so maybe teacher of photography/community health that sells the photos/food to benefit a charity?? I don't know! This is what I'm trying to work on though. I think this lifestyle of mine has opened up my mind TOO much to all of the possibilities in the world. So if I can just hone in and dedicate myself to something, I think I'll feel a lot more productive and H.A.P.P.Y!

So long summer!

Whew. That was quite a wild ride. How I managed through another (my FOURTH!) year of summer camps in Spain, I can't tell you. At the end of it, every time without fail, I'm amazed I made it out alive. How did I do it? In the midst of it, there were days where I really didn't think I could get out of bed. How did I survive 5 hours of sleep a night in a student residence, eating camp food, dealing with teenage drama, cross-cultural drama, co-worker drama, etc. But, I look back with a smile, every time. I miss it already.

It's the same every June, 20-something 20-somethings show up to an office in Madrid, usually hungover from their big night out, thanking dios for the air-conditioning: the only saving grace of the "training" meeting. There are the quiet ones, and the loud ones who insist on introducing themselves and asking way too many questions. As a veteran, I usually keep my head down and drink my cafe con leche until the painful icebreakers begin. There's the loud American girl who sits next to the quiet English lad, who is next to the bohemian half Spanish/ half American, who is next to the Irish girl. We may not know much about each other, but we're all here, and most likely, none of us have a permanent address.

I must say I was incredibly lucky this year, as the first two weeks I worked at one of the nicest camp venues, where we had waiter service and our own rooms (que lujo!) The pool wasn't overcrowded and the food was actually edible. My co-workers were amazing, we had some unforgettable times together. As kids sneaked out of their casitas on party night, we ran a covert ops mission, "kidnapping" them and sticking them in the director's house. After about a dozen teens were thrown in "prison", and were falling asleep on the floor, the director blasted music and we all sang and dance for them, keeping the "poor" things awake until 6 in the morning. Hey, we have to have our fun, too!

The sun rises and sets over Spain and before we know it, we're saying goodbye. There are broken hearts and friendships that will last forever (or at least until school starts and they stop writing on each others Facebook walls) and the kids get on the bus and go their separate ways. It's amazing how two weeks can feel like eternity.

Now that I'm back in Ireland, I can't help but wish I was laying by the pool at Aldeaduero, even with teenagers screaming and running around like maniacs, driving me absolutely crazy.