A Long December...

At the end of another year, here's a quick look back on some of the things I did. During 2013, I...

• Drove around Ireland and Northern Ireland with a friend
• Picked up yoga
• Got an iPhone
• Spend the summer living in Provo
• Took a road trip to Disneyland with some friends
• Did some more work on a Master's degree
• Racked up some medical bills
• Started a new job that has definitely been a step up from the last one
• Started teaching AP French for the first time
• Got a black standard poodle puppy, Ditto (who I love!)

Loverly

I have a group of friends from elementary school, and we still get together. Our most recent hang-out happened this week, and one of us talked about bragging about having a group of friends from elementary school. I think it is brag-worthy.

I also think it's interesting to look at where we are in life (a few things have changed since third grade). So here's a figurative snapshot of where we are now:

Living in Utah: 3 of 4
Married: 2 of 4
Bachelor's degree: 4 of 4
Returned missionary: 2 of 4
Graduate degree: 1 of 4
Working in her field: 4 of 4 (Our respective fields being graphic design, fashion, international development, and foreign language education)
In or looking to transition to a new job in said field: 3 of 4
Living with parents: 2 of 4

And here's a literal snapshot:

Why? Because it's there.

This summer has been busy--after finishing the school year, I did two and a half weeks working at BYU's French Camp for high school students. As that was ending, I started the three grad classes that are taking up the bulk of my summer. I was looking forward to being a full-time student again for these eight weeks of classes. Completing nine grad credits in this amount of time, though, has also been immensely difficult. The work load and seat time is high, and I have found myself stretched and stressed.

Tonight, a friend asked me why I wanted to do grad school--the second time I've been asked this question in as many weeks. I gave the same answer tonight, the most simple one: "Because I haven't learned enough."

After, when I was driving home, I put on a podcast that turned out to be an episode of the TED Radio Hour called "To The Edge." The different segments of the podcast are posted here--interviews with a man who has walked to the North Pole, with a cave explorer whose expeditions can be over a month deep underground, a woman who has rowed alone across oceans, and a high-wire artist who crossed between the World Trade Center on a thin cable. The host kept referring to a famous interview with George Mallory. When asked why summit Mount Everest, Mallory simply answered, "Because it's there."

The podcast episode had such amazing stories: people, regular people, who have pushed themselves because for curiosity and for the joy of it. They reflected on how hard their pursuits were--and, in turn, that the harder the challenge, the greater the accomplishment of completing it. I found the stories so comforting and (though it is trite to say) inspirational. The summits and finish lines were reached, and because of that, lives were changed. Life was made better.

It's all about the niños

I've just made it home, totally exhausted, after French Fair Day. Each year, BYU hosts what I have heard rumors to be some of the largest foreign language fairs in the country for school kids. Students of Chinese, French, German, Japanese, Russian, and Spanish gather in different parts of campus to present skits, songs, and poems, compete in trivia and spelling competitions, and to speak the languages they are learning with thousands of other students from across northern Utah.

My day started at about 5:30 this morning when I got up to hurry to school so I could leave sub plans for the students who wouldn't be attending (I don't take my French I classes--they just get to stew in anticipation for next year while the rest of us take off). After that, the day was a rush of meeting times, permission forms, roll calls, bus rides, passing out handouts, reminders about schedules, digging for the right CD, final rehearsals, calls to the bus driver, and kid-rangling.

This was not my first French Fair experience. This was my second year with students, and I had volunteered as a helper for three years as a BYU student (in addition to one year at the Spanish Fair)--long days of listening to poetry or passing out pastries or checking passports. Even without my own students there, the French Fair days were exhausting.

Talking to my school's Chinese teacher on the bus ride back from the fair, I realized I wasn't the only one who was glad all the rehearsals, memorizing, and transportation arrangements were done for another year. My colleague had her own students to manage while she was at the Chinese fair, but had also been saddled with setting up and running the karaoke booth for the whole fair. During the bus ride, we also chatted about the exchange she's arranged for six years now between her students and a students at a school in Taiwan, as well as the video contest her students enter annually.

As we talked, I thought about the extra time she spends on these projects. If she's like me, like other foreign language teachers I know, like the BYU professors who organize the language fairs, like the college students who make it run, there isn't really anyone thanking her for doing it or noticing that she does. She doesn't get paid more for doing it all. Maybe that makes it all the more amazing that it happens.

One of those organizing BYU professors--of Spanish--sent out emails to the grad students of the department explaining how their help was expected at the language fair. "If you start to feel unmotivated, lethargic or frustrated," he wrote, "just remember, it's all about the niños!" On the bus ride today, I had a moment of such amazement about how many people had taken that to heart during the day. What an amazing thing had come together because of that: hours of preparing students, of careful organization, of listening to and encouraging these learners, of set-up and take-down--all of it fueled by not much more than some good hearts. As I was walking out of work this evening, another colleague stopped me and told me how she had overheard some of my students talking to each other in the hall about how much they had loved the French Fair. That made me want to think it's worth it.

From Pounds to Euros

Yesterday we saw a bit of Belfast in Northern Ireland. I thought about my family at Carrickfergus Castle...

...learned a bit about Northern Ireland's complicated past...

...then left Great Britain and the Pound to re-enter the Euro Zone. We spent the night at Cabra Castle. It was beautiful, but not the most pleasant night. The walls were very thin, and we got to hear most of the next door couple's raging argument at four in the morning. 

This morning, after a final look around the castle, we were off to some of Ireland's ancient sites. The "passage tombs" of Knowth and Newgrange were built before Stonehenge and Egypt's pyramids.

Our guide at Knowth, our first stop, was quite enthusiastic and friendly.

You can't walk in this site, but you can peak down the passage.

We got to Newgrange, and after our guide there told off a kid for making too much noise while standing on the gravel, Natalie dubbed him the "Newgrange Nazi." It is a spectacular place to visit, though. We got to go inside with our guide--where he was in his element. Overall, visiting the sites was an amazing experience.

After that, we drove off to the Hill of Tara. It was here the ancient high kings of Ireland were crowned. It was another cold day, but the sun was shining. It was absolutely beautiful up on the hill, walking among all the mysterious mounds and circles formed in the earth.

Easter and the Outdoors

Happy Easter! A bit belated, I guess. Saturday night, when we were still at Ashford Castle, someone from the hotel knocked on our door and gave us a great big chocolate egg for the holiday. At another point, someone came around with a little notice about setting the clocks back an hour at midnight. Seems we got in on Daylight Savings.

Sunday morning, we checked out of Ashford Castle. We were both sorry to tell it goodbye. Someday, when I'm wonderfully wealthy, I'm going to spend a week there doing everything they have to offer.

After that, I insisted we attend Mass. I read all sorts of things about Ireland and set in Ireland before we came, and a recurring theme was definitely the influence of the Catholic Church. So we had to go to mass. It was a modern building (though it was on the same grounds as the ruins of a very old church), and it was packed for Easter Sunday. The priest's sermon focused on baptism--how it was a miracle that Christ rose again, and how we partake in that, and how that is because of the promises made vicariously for you at baptism (I think that's how he went). Then he walked up and down the aisles sprinkling the congregation with holy water to remind us of our baptisms.

We next jumped in our faithful little car again and headed to Lough Key Forest Park. We were all excited about doing this (as in, we had talked about it since before we left):



When we actually got there, though, we were told we'd need at least three people. I went up to a group of three girls and asked if we could join them. They said yes, but then went in without us. We didn't do it. It was all very tragic.

We spent the night in Donegal and saw the castle there first thing this morning (well, after a giant Irish breakfast at the bed and breakfast). It turned out to be one of my favorites so far.

I wouldn't mind a room like that in my house someday.

Then we drove to Northern Ireland. Ireland is, of course, its own country, while Northern Ireland is part of the UK. I made sure to have my passport accessible this morning as we were packing up, not sure what the boarder crossing would entail. We had quite a bit of driving today. At some point, some of the road markings started looking a little bit different, and then the GPS (in metric) started displaying odd, uneven numbers for the speed limit. And then I thought, "I think we're in the UK." And I was right.

No offense to the Irish, the British road markings are just a bit clearer. And no offense to the British, but things are expensive here.

Before stopping at a rope bridge that goes to an island and then arriving in Belfast for the night, we went to the Giant's Causeway. The story is, there were two rival giants, one in Ireland, one in Scotland. The Ireland giant, Finn MacCool, was full of bravado, and built this causeway across to Scotland daring the giant there to come fight him. The thing was, the Scottish giant was a lot bigger and meaner, and as soon as Finn saw this, he ran home and had his wife disguise him as a baby. The Scottish giant (who I guess is nameless) stormed over, saw the size of the baby, imagined the size of the father, and ran away back to Scotland, tearing up the causeway as he went.

The place has some really unique geology, formed by volcano lava cooling.

Old Things and New Experiences

Yesterday I didn't post. Instead, we got back to our bed and breakfast at about 6:30, and I crawled into bed and was asleep by 8:00. I guess I was tired.

As far as what we did, though, was see a lot of old things. We saw some old abbeys in ruins...

...just after we had seen this magnificent place, the partially-restored Portuma Castle.

I kept thinking of Pride and Prejudice while we were there. Can you even imagine the kind of lifestyle of the family who lived and entertained here?

And if you have a hard time wrapping your head around that, get a load of this. Our next stop was the gardens of Birr Castle. Just the gardens, because the castle is still a private residence. That is, THIS place:

Today we went on to our next residence: Ashford Castle. We're staying here for just a night. And here it is:

That white flag out front very modestly says "first in the world." It has been nice, that's for sure--our bags magically appeared in our room and a woman knocked on our door asking if she'd like her to turn down our beds (I was so curious about what this would entail that I wanted to say yes, but they were currently covered with bags and such, so I said no).

If nothing else, I have sure never stayed at a hotel with one of these before:

We spent a good part of the day doing some of the activities offered here at Ashford. First up was an hour of falconry. Our instructor was incredibly knowledgeable about the birds. We actually worked with hawks rather than falcons--she explained they are social rather than solitary animals like the falcons, which take months to trust you.

I was fascinated by the things our instructor told us about the hawks.

• They are trained with food. With everything she talked about, it looks like the hawk's whole motivation is maximum food for minimum expenditure of energy. They save energy in crazy ways--they don't fly or move unless they see prey, for example, and they even stand on one foot to save energy when standing.
• The hawks are hierarchical. Older hawks and female hawks are higher on the hierarchy. We took out two hawks--one for me and one for Natalie. She had us send the older one out first on the first flight because of this hierarchy.
• The hawks like to be at the physical high point of an area. In the wild, the alpha female would be at the top and force all the others to be below her. For us, we were instructed to keep our arms bent at the elbow, elbow to our side, hand in a fist, thumb up, and that the hawk would claim our thumbs because it was the high point. 
• The hawks have an excellent sense of sight. They can actually "zoom in" and can point their eyes in different directions. They also see on the ultraviolet spectrum--so can see oils on animals and trails of urine. 
• The hawks are weighed every morning, and the handlers try to keep them at their optimal flying weight. If they weigh too much, they aren't motivated to fly for a food reward, so they don't take off from your hand. If they weigh too little, they'll take off from your hand and come strait back for the food reward. About 1/4 oz. makes the difference.
• The birds weigh 1-2 pounds. The females are bigger. 
• Handlers only reward the hawks from their gloved hands. This way, they only respond to the gloves. 
• To signal them to fly, you hold your arm strait out to your side and open your fingers. You might have to swing them a bit, "like a tennis racket," said our instructor.
• To get them to come back, you put a bit of raw meat in your gloved hand and stand with your arm strait out, hand in a fist, your back (and back of your hand) to the bird. They fly in and get the food!
• The birds don't want to escape to the wild because the food is easy and consistent in captivity. 
• The handlers never reward them for going from the ground to their hand--they want them to fly, not just hang out and not expend energy on the ground. 

It was such a fascinating experience. I've definitely never done anything like it before! I was fascinated by everything about the experience. The birds' motivation, though, made me start to think about students. So much comes down to consistency and reinforcement!

Here the hawk's coming in for a landing. I have to add that I am wearing two shirts, a sweater, a sweatshirt, and a down vest under that jacket. It's been cold!

After this, we went off to the equestrian centre. First time riding an English saddle! It was definitely different. We got some formal instruction before heading out with the guide, though--it made me want to learn more!

On The Road

Today, we mostly drove. Here is a photo to represent all that driving.

Never fear, I did not take said photo. Natalie did. While I was driving. This one happened to be taken while we were listening to an episode of The Moth podcast, which I highly recommend, by the way.

Between all this driving, we did stop and several attractions. Unfortunately, most of said attractions turned out to be closed. This resulted in a dramatic revision of our plans--we are now a full day ahead of schedule (excitingly enough), including staying at the bed and breakfast in Galway we weren't supposed to get to until tomorrow night.

We did manage to see one site, however: The Cliffs of Moher. Or, as I can hear my friend Caroline saying, "The Cliffs of Insanity!!!"

Finally, I would like to share this photo of a beautiful parking job from yesterday that I forgot to share in the last post.

Haters gonna hate, potatoes gonna potate

It was our first full day in Ireland, which we spent driving from site to site in our little black rental car:

We started out in the morning by going to get some lunch supplies at the grocery store, where I found this:

I am butter.

Our first site in Ireland was the Rock of Cashel, an old fortified church on a big hill. A rocky hill. Hence the name.

After that, we drove on to Cahir Castle, which is actually pronounced "care." Here is a picture of a medieval toilet from said castle. I am not guessing. The placards actually said that.

We did some more lovely driving to get to this pile of rocks. It is actually an ancient tomb. The placard here had an odd anecdote about a woman who lived under the shelter of these rocks in the 1800's.

Then we drove on to Limerick, checked into our bed and breakfast (much nicer than the hostel from last night, which never did warm up), and headed off to a guidebook-endorsed pub for dinner.

Almost everywhere we have parked has felt slightly illegal--in a church yard last night, in front of someone's house for the Rock of Cashel, and this parking job. I am actually rather proud of myself for parking like a European.

Maybe you can't tell. I'm parked on the curb.




We got to the pub and kind of wandered and found the restaurant part. No one was really paying attention to us, so we finally kind of asked if we could just sit down. We were told yes. This strangeness continued. Someone came to take our order, and it came after awhile. After that, we watched as the two waiters bustled around all the other tables--asking how things were, asking if the people at them would like a drink or a dessert, getting and taking the check from one table, etc., etc. Through all of this, they never even looked at us, let alone come over to talk to us. We were a pretty solitary island in the middle of all the hustling and bustling. I finished and no one cleared my plate. Natalie finished. And we sat there. And sat. And sat. After a bit, I finally asked if we could have the checks.




As we were walking back to the possibly illegally parked car, Natalie and I talked about this. I thought maybe it was because we were Americans, but Natalie pointed out there were two other tables of Americans that got great service. We thought some more, not coming to any conclusions..."Unless," Natalie said, "they thought we were a couple."


Oh the discrimination.

Ireland: Day 1 (or is it 2?)

I'm in the sitting room of an old Irish house-turned-hostel. It's finally warm in here, with the little stove going. I think I have been cold since I landed in Europe earlier today. The movie I am Legend is going. I hate that movie. This is the only place where I can get wireless, though, and it is warm. So I'll write quickly and head off to bed.

My friend Natalie and I are in Cashel, Ireland, staying in site of The Rock of Cashel, which we were supposed to visit this afternoon. Our day started at about 9:00 Sunday morning when her parents drove the two of us to the airport.

We flew to Dulles, which went fine, but then found our flight to London was delayed about an hour. The flight was long, but good...then we got to London (where, I swear, our passports were checked at least five times). There we found out we could make our connecting flight to Shannon, Ireland, but our bags would not. So we got on the next flight there--six hours later. It made for a long travel day.

This is me after a two-hour flight, a layover, a 8-hour flight, and four hours of layover. I stole a blanket from the British Airways flight, and boy was I glad I did when I had something to wrap myself up in in the cold Ireland-bound section of Heathrow.

Once we finally got to Shannon and through another round with the passports, we got our rented car! This all made me feel very grown up, and then it made me sad to find out it wouldn't be the 200-ish Euros we thought we booked, but rather towards 700-ish Euros. Plus E100 deposit for the gas. Sad.

I kept trying to psych myself up for driving on the left--visualized it and such. Even so, we put our bags in the trunk and I opened up the driver's side door and my first thought (honestly) was, "Where's the steering wheel??"

Later today, I saw a really nice car take a fast corner and I said to Natalie, "Woah, that driver was like, 12!" And she looked at me and said, "He wasn't driving."

Anyway, we got here, and we're ready for adventures!

Random

I've been thinking about my blog lately, and how I should add something. I just have some random bits and pieces, but here they are.

• The Church is creating a Seoul South mission. I left Korea in March 2010 just as the Seoul West and Seoul missions were being combined (changing the number of LDS missions in Korea from four to three). They told us this was in part because there were fewer new missionaries (the "boomlette" was ending) and because the missionaries that were going out were going to more diverse areas of the world. Now, this article says, because the age has changed for missionaries to go out, there are more again. Why not re-open the Seoul West mission? Who knows. 

• I am going to Ireland for two weeks this spring. A friend and I had started talking about this more than a year ago. Last summer I was in Colombia, and for the next two summers I'll be doing grad school full time. Looking at the calendar, I realized the only time I had to go was Spring Break. So that's when we're going! I'm taking a week off work in addition to that, which I feel guilty about. But I'm definitely looking forward to the trip! 

• We have Netflix, and I end up watching a fair amount of TV while I grade, work out, and that kind of thing. Recently I got kind of obsessed with the show "LA Ink," about a tattoo shop in LA (until the later seasons when all the people on it are just nasty to each other). I was just struck by how so many of the people going in to get tattoos were getting one to mark or work through something hard in their lives. It's just been an observation lately--hard things happen to all of us. 

• I've been really tempted lately to get an iPhone, but always go back to deciding it's too expensive (please see the Ireland bullet point, above) and that I can live without one for at least a bit longer. Recently I took a class on African drumming through the University of Utah's Continuing Education program, and I think if I'm not going to buy an iPhone, I could probably buy an African drum.