When packing for our first trip to Galway, Ireland, I spent 20 minutes staring at my tiny backpack trying to figure out how to pack four days worth of clothes and shoes. I overpacked completely and packed wrong. Now that I am ready to pack to go home, I'm a professional packer. Here's what to do and not do:
1. Try outfits on before. I packed so many different options to go out at night in and when it was time to wear them, I didn't like them. Try on the outfits to make sure they look good and that you will want to wear them. You don't need to bring everything!
2. Use all the compartments. Backpacks have several compartments that you can jam clothes into so try to maximize space by using them. Ryanair makes you check that your backpack fits their size criteria but if the clothes are making it bulky, then you can squeeze it in.
3. Don't pack more than two pairs of shoes. One pair of boots and one pair of heels is all you really need. Pack outfits that match that pair of heels. You can wear your boots on the plane. If you are staying in a hostel, pack flip flops because you do not want to be barefoot in those showers.
4. Buy travel size containers. This will eliminate space on shampoo and conditioner. You can't bring them on a flight because of liquid size restrictions anyway. They sell them at any department store in Ireland.
5. Pack a small towel. Hostels do not provide towels and they might be disgusting if you do. Bring your own. The towel will not take up that much space. It's a necessity.
6. Re-wear your pants. Pack jeans or leggings that you can re-wear with a different outfit to eliminate space. You only need one pair of pajamas.
7. Check the weather. The countries you may be going to could have completely different weather. I went to Barcelona wearing a winter jacket when it was in the 70s. Make sure you won't be too hot or cold where you're traveling to.
Thursday, 20 December 2012
Ballymaloe Cooking School
Arriving at the Ballymaloe Cooking School for the second time this semester, I was a little nervous. The first time I went there, I was chopping cilantro (called Coriander in Ireland) and I rubbed my eyes. They burned and stung. Tears streamed down my face from the spicy leaf. For a month after, my eyes were always red and I couldn't wear my contact lenses. I had to go to the doctor and get antibiotic eyedrops. Needless to say, I was hesitant to cook here again. Was I going to lose a finger?
We headed into the demonstration where Rachel Allen, a famous cook with her own TV show and author of several cooking books, taught us how to make an Irish Christmas dinner. At the mention of the word "coriander", I flinched. I was staying clear of anything green and spicy. The Christmas dinner included turkey, stuffing, salmon, curry, pickled cucumbers and dessert. We all looked around at each other.
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| Cooking with Father Linnane |
Wednesday, 19 December 2012
30 Random Things I'll Miss About Cork
As I began to pack during our last week, I decided to come up with a list of the little things I will miss most about Cork and my time abroad. The list is not in any order.
- Going out for a pint to listen to live Irish music
- Prank wars with the boys
- Getting a free pint every time it rains with an app on the iPhone
- When everyone gets wifi on their iPhones and stops talking
- Garlic mayo
- Nutrageous and the Nutrageous song
- Hating the An Brog yet still wanting to go there
- Doing nothing on the list of things we need to do before we leave
- Hearing 4's weird whistling and music (Our 4th roommate from El Salvador)
- Thomond bar's cottage pie
- Pregames in the Penthouse
- Trying to perfect the Irish accent and Sarah sounding Indian every time
- Irish cider- Bulmers
- Trying to look Irish by wearing my Aran sweater, claddagh ring and tartan scarf
- Getting called out for being American miles away (even people yelling "You're American!" out of the window of moving cars)
- Hearing Galway Girl live at pubs
- Telling people they sound like leprechauns
- Running through the parking garage to avoid the creepy cats
- L.A. Bagels
- The bar at UCC that we've never been to
- Using Irish phrases (gaf, good craic, what's the story?, that's legend, lads, for **** sake, you're an igit)
- Fat Al's pizza slices and Sarah saying it is the best pizza she's ever had in her life
- The awful wifi in Leeside
- Shouting at Chelsea to ask if she has Internet and playing nose goes to be the one to reset the router
- Making everyone look at the Irish countryside on long Aircoach bus rides
- Being surprised every time it rains and then remembering we're in Ireland
- The Rooftop
- Going "to town" which eventually leads to eating or buying something
- Driving on the wrong side of the road through roundabouts
- Tuesday nights at Rearden's, Thursday nights at The Bailey
Tuesday, 18 December 2012
Language Barriers
My friends and I walk off the metro in Paris, France and look at our phones. We have no idea where to go so we walk over to the map and try to figure out where we are right now. A lady walks up to us and asks, "What are you looking for?"
Chelsea responds, "No thank you!" and turns around. The lady looks puzzled. I wasn't paying attention so I ask the lady again what she said. She repeats the question and I respond in French that we are looking for a friend who is coming to pick us up. I turn to Chelsea and tell her what the lady was actually asking and we all start laughing at how crazy the lady must've thought Chelsea was.
As a French minor, I could handle the language barrier in France. But in Rome, Munich, Barcelona and Copenhagen, it was a struggle. Hand motions, pointing and praying someone around spoke English was all we could do.
At a restaurant in Barcelona, the menus were offered in all different languages but the waiters only spoke Catalon so they did not know what we were ordering even when we pointed. We ended up just pointing to the same spot on the regular menu and hoping it was the same. Catalon is a combination of French and Spanish spoken in Barcelona. A lot of people also speak Spanish so we were able to get by with some minimal words. The extent of Spanish I know is from watching Dora the Explorer when babysitting.
In Rome, I took a cab from my friend's apartment but I didn't know where I was going or if he was taking me the right way. He kept asking me questions in Italian, which I couldn't respond to. I started panicking. The only Italian word I know is "Grazie". I just kept repeating the area that my hotel was in like that was going to change anything. As the cab fare got higher, my blood pressure did too. Eventually, I started noticing things that I had seen before. He dropped me off and I was able to find my way back to the hotel.
In Munich, I accidentally booked a flight home earlier than everyone else (Remember: Bad Luck Abroad Allie). I had to navigate the metro stops alone in Germany at 8 in the morning after Oktoberfest. German words look nothing like how they are pronounced. I was able to manage it and find the correct terminal for my flight. I asked customer service by showing my plane ticket and they pointed me in the right direction.
Although language barriers have existed in almost every country I have visited, it amazes me that communication is still possible. There are many people in each of the foreign countries that speak English but it is impossible to find people in America that are capable of speaking German, French, Catalon or Italian. Through a lot of time, hand gestures and pointing, I have communicated what I wanted or where I needed to go and made it there successfully. I also learned how to navigate the metros and maps in all of these countries. I better be able to figure out New York City when I get home since that has always been a challenge.
Chelsea responds, "No thank you!" and turns around. The lady looks puzzled. I wasn't paying attention so I ask the lady again what she said. She repeats the question and I respond in French that we are looking for a friend who is coming to pick us up. I turn to Chelsea and tell her what the lady was actually asking and we all start laughing at how crazy the lady must've thought Chelsea was.
As a French minor, I could handle the language barrier in France. But in Rome, Munich, Barcelona and Copenhagen, it was a struggle. Hand motions, pointing and praying someone around spoke English was all we could do.
At a restaurant in Barcelona, the menus were offered in all different languages but the waiters only spoke Catalon so they did not know what we were ordering even when we pointed. We ended up just pointing to the same spot on the regular menu and hoping it was the same. Catalon is a combination of French and Spanish spoken in Barcelona. A lot of people also speak Spanish so we were able to get by with some minimal words. The extent of Spanish I know is from watching Dora the Explorer when babysitting.
In Rome, I took a cab from my friend's apartment but I didn't know where I was going or if he was taking me the right way. He kept asking me questions in Italian, which I couldn't respond to. I started panicking. The only Italian word I know is "Grazie". I just kept repeating the area that my hotel was in like that was going to change anything. As the cab fare got higher, my blood pressure did too. Eventually, I started noticing things that I had seen before. He dropped me off and I was able to find my way back to the hotel.
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| London Tube Stops Sign |
In Munich, I accidentally booked a flight home earlier than everyone else (Remember: Bad Luck Abroad Allie). I had to navigate the metro stops alone in Germany at 8 in the morning after Oktoberfest. German words look nothing like how they are pronounced. I was able to manage it and find the correct terminal for my flight. I asked customer service by showing my plane ticket and they pointed me in the right direction.
Although language barriers have existed in almost every country I have visited, it amazes me that communication is still possible. There are many people in each of the foreign countries that speak English but it is impossible to find people in America that are capable of speaking German, French, Catalon or Italian. Through a lot of time, hand gestures and pointing, I have communicated what I wanted or where I needed to go and made it there successfully. I also learned how to navigate the metros and maps in all of these countries. I better be able to figure out New York City when I get home since that has always been a challenge.
Ring of Kerry
Looking back at the four months I've spent in Ireland, my favorite weekend was the Ring of Kerry Heritage trip. This was a trip scheduled by Loyola for us to go on. As we took the bus ride from Cork to Kerry, the tour guide handed out sheets of paper that had Gaelic words written on them. She had us practice our Gaelic for most of the bus ride. We learned words like hello, thank you, your welcome and cheers. Gaelic sounds nothing like it is written so this was a big challenge. Gaelic is Ireland's traditional language although it is rarely spoken anymore. Mostly everyone speaks English so Ireland is trying to enforce Gaelic to be taught in all schools to keep their culture alive.
The first day we got there we had two guest speakers that talked to us about living in County Kerry and playing Gaelic football. The first speaker was a woman who grew up in a small town near Cahirsiveen, Kerry where only Gaelic was spoken. Kerry is the main countryside of Ireland. She had to go to school outside of the small town where she could not talk to anyone because of the language barrier. She didn't start learning English until she was 6 years old. This amazed me because I had always thought English was spoken in all parts of Ireland. The Gaelic football player taught us how to play. For someone with no coordination like me, I didn't want to embarrass myself. Gaelic football includes bouncing the ball off your foot to "dribble", passing it to other players with only a certain amount of steps allowed and shooting at the goalie as hard as possible. This was the second Irish sport I had seen. (Hurling was the first.) And I am positive I could never play either of them, yet the player told us they are born into playing and they are even required to play on the same team as their ancestors did. In America, we have so many options to play different sports or to stop playing if we want. They only play the sports that their parents played until they are too old to play anymore. If they don't make it to the professional league, they still play for fun.
We finished off the trip by making stops at Torc Waterfall and Ladies View in Killarney National Park before heading back to Cork. Torc Waterfall is a waterfall surrounded by trees covered in moss. It makes the entire area green, which is exactly what I pictured when going to the Emerald Isle. This trip was an amazing way to get to know the Irish countryside. I took my family back to all the places that we went just to see them one more time.
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
Finding America Abroad
Traveling to a different city every weekend allows me to experience new cultures at a rapid pace. While I am constantly on-the-go, it is nice to find a reminder of home in some of the cities.
1. Guacamole- I'm not sure who told Ireland what guacamole tastes like or how it's made, but they're doing it wrong. When I first arrived, I excitedly ordered guacamole in my chicken wrap and faced disgust with every bite. It took several different restaurants to convince me that guacamole is just terrible everywhere in Ireland and not at specific places. I have a weird obsession with guacamole. I love Chipotle and I miss it in Ireland. My first meals in London and Paris: Chipotle. And I don't even feel guilty after going three months without it. If I can't have my mom's chicken cordon bleu, at least I'm getting guacamole.
2. Firehouses- Growing up with my dad as a firefighter and living across the street from the firehouse, how could they not remind me of home? I always hear the firetruck sirens from my room in Cork and remember the annoying pager that I hear in my bedroom at home because my dad forgets to turn the volume down after he leaves. In London, a firetruck was returning from a fire call and backing into the firehouse. I felt obligated to talk to the firefighters all about my firehouse back home in New Jersey. They asked questions about what the firehouse was like and they were amazed that it was volunteer.
3. Family- The obvious reminder of home on this list was seeing my family in Glasgow, Scotland. The last time I saw them was in March for spring break when I went with my dad and grandma. They constantly asked questions about my family, showed me old pictures and told me stories.
4. Christmas Lights- Now that it is December, there are Christmas lights everywhere. In Cork, Paris and Barcelona, we went to christmas markets that were decorated. They sold ornaments, hats and decorations. It reminded me of how my house is decorated every year for Christmas. It also reminds me that I will be going home soon because I am going home close to Christmas.
While I've gotten a glimpse of home in some of these cities, it doesn't compare. The number one thing I miss about home: bagels and iced coffee. Don't cry, Mom; THAT WAS A JOKE. I miss my family and friends! And bagels and iced coffee.
1. Guacamole- I'm not sure who told Ireland what guacamole tastes like or how it's made, but they're doing it wrong. When I first arrived, I excitedly ordered guacamole in my chicken wrap and faced disgust with every bite. It took several different restaurants to convince me that guacamole is just terrible everywhere in Ireland and not at specific places. I have a weird obsession with guacamole. I love Chipotle and I miss it in Ireland. My first meals in London and Paris: Chipotle. And I don't even feel guilty after going three months without it. If I can't have my mom's chicken cordon bleu, at least I'm getting guacamole.
2. Firehouses- Growing up with my dad as a firefighter and living across the street from the firehouse, how could they not remind me of home? I always hear the firetruck sirens from my room in Cork and remember the annoying pager that I hear in my bedroom at home because my dad forgets to turn the volume down after he leaves. In London, a firetruck was returning from a fire call and backing into the firehouse. I felt obligated to talk to the firefighters all about my firehouse back home in New Jersey. They asked questions about what the firehouse was like and they were amazed that it was volunteer.
3. Family- The obvious reminder of home on this list was seeing my family in Glasgow, Scotland. The last time I saw them was in March for spring break when I went with my dad and grandma. They constantly asked questions about my family, showed me old pictures and told me stories.
4. Christmas Lights- Now that it is December, there are Christmas lights everywhere. In Cork, Paris and Barcelona, we went to christmas markets that were decorated. They sold ornaments, hats and decorations. It reminded me of how my house is decorated every year for Christmas. It also reminds me that I will be going home soon because I am going home close to Christmas.
While I've gotten a glimpse of home in some of these cities, it doesn't compare. The number one thing I miss about home: bagels and iced coffee. Don't cry, Mom; THAT WAS A JOKE. I miss my family and friends! And bagels and iced coffee.
Oktoberfest
As I headed to Munich, Germany for Oktoberfest, I anticipated the crazy weekend ahead of me that I had been looking forward to for months. I anticipated drinking beer - and a lot of it. Instead, I learned that the festival Oktoberfest has a lot more to it than just drinking beer. (Sorry, Dad, I did drink the beer though.)
I arrived at the festival and headed to the Hofbrau tent, which my friends and I were told is the best tent. I waited on line for a couple hours among people with many different accents; German, French, Spanish, even people from Texas. People from all over the world go to Oktoberfest. I could feel the excitement building as people pressed forward hoping the tent would open any minute. When the doors opened, the massive crowd stampeded past security guards to get a table inside. My friends and I rushed to a table and sat down. As more tables filled, waitresses carrying trays filled with eight steins each began circling the tables and delivering beer. Steins are the big glass cups that hold the beer.
The waitresses were dressed in their traditional outfit called a dirndl with their hair in braids. Men were wearing lederhosens, which consists of overalls and a hat. These outfits are traditional to the festival and even people who were not German were wearing them. After the first rounds of beer are delivered, waitresses start coming around to sell sausage and soft pretzels. Several people began standing up on their table and chugging beer from the stein as everyone in the tent chanted. I overheard Germans around us yelling "Prost" which means "Cheers" before they drank their beer. A band was playing German music and everyone in the tent sang all the words. By the end of the first day, we knew the words too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dD2-aSbcW0s
In the afternoon, security guards began screaming in German that we needed to leave the tables because the tables had been reserved for the rest of the day. The German language sounded so angry and mean that people could have been saying "I love you" and I would have never known. We entered the rest of Oktoberfest. There were rides everywhere. I used the words to describe it as an "adult carnival". I went on a roller coaster that went upside down seven times and swings that went so high we could see all of Munich. The age at the festival ranged from little children to senior citizens. These people were Germans who do not go to Oktoberfest for the "drinking festival" that it has the reputation to be. There is a completely different side to the festival outside of the tents. They go to enjoy their culture. They hear the music, dance, eat and wear their traditional outfits. It is a family function and tradition to attend.
It is important for people attending Oktoberfest to see the entire festival. After talking to my other friends that went different weekends, I was happy that I got to see what the festival was like inside and outside the tents.
I arrived at the festival and headed to the Hofbrau tent, which my friends and I were told is the best tent. I waited on line for a couple hours among people with many different accents; German, French, Spanish, even people from Texas. People from all over the world go to Oktoberfest. I could feel the excitement building as people pressed forward hoping the tent would open any minute. When the doors opened, the massive crowd stampeded past security guards to get a table inside. My friends and I rushed to a table and sat down. As more tables filled, waitresses carrying trays filled with eight steins each began circling the tables and delivering beer. Steins are the big glass cups that hold the beer.
The waitresses were dressed in their traditional outfit called a dirndl with their hair in braids. Men were wearing lederhosens, which consists of overalls and a hat. These outfits are traditional to the festival and even people who were not German were wearing them. After the first rounds of beer are delivered, waitresses start coming around to sell sausage and soft pretzels. Several people began standing up on their table and chugging beer from the stein as everyone in the tent chanted. I overheard Germans around us yelling "Prost" which means "Cheers" before they drank their beer. A band was playing German music and everyone in the tent sang all the words. By the end of the first day, we knew the words too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dD2-aSbcW0s
In the afternoon, security guards began screaming in German that we needed to leave the tables because the tables had been reserved for the rest of the day. The German language sounded so angry and mean that people could have been saying "I love you" and I would have never known. We entered the rest of Oktoberfest. There were rides everywhere. I used the words to describe it as an "adult carnival". I went on a roller coaster that went upside down seven times and swings that went so high we could see all of Munich. The age at the festival ranged from little children to senior citizens. These people were Germans who do not go to Oktoberfest for the "drinking festival" that it has the reputation to be. There is a completely different side to the festival outside of the tents. They go to enjoy their culture. They hear the music, dance, eat and wear their traditional outfits. It is a family function and tradition to attend.
It is important for people attending Oktoberfest to see the entire festival. After talking to my other friends that went different weekends, I was happy that I got to see what the festival was like inside and outside the tents.
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