Fake Postmen and Phantoms

“Do you think we’re going to make it?”

“I don’t know…” my sister replied, looking around desperately for a sign that might lead us to Phantom of the Opera.

We had a harebrained scheme: Catch a 15:00 bus to London from Oxford, find Phantom’s playhouse, and after taking a few touristy pictures, grab the late bus back home.

On the way to London.

“The play will be between 7 and 8,” I say.

Kathryn and her friend Lauren glance nervously at watches and cell phone clocks.

“Well…it’s 6:30 now.”

Our plans had already met a slight hitch when our bus had broken down on the highway. And searching for a theater was more difficult than expected. Unlike New York’s Broadway, London stages are scattered throughout the city. So we began asking the question I have become so accustomed to asking: “Excuse me, hi yes sorry. Do you know where (insert every destination ever here)."

Really? Oh yes...

One bus driver pointed us down a street. The next bus driver pointed us back towards the way we came. The man working at a theater could only tell us to ask a bus driver. Finally I saw a postman. Yes a postman! That was who helped me when I was lost on my first day of work! Postmen are awesome – I love you postmen.

So I quickly walked over to him before he could take his lovely postman self down another street.

“Sir, excuse me! Yes…sorry to bother you but…”

Oh wait. You’re not a postman. Dang you and your fake postman outfit…you postman poser! I blindly trusted you because of your uniform and hat and letters in your hand. And the more I talk to you the more I realize you don’t speak English…but you say I should ask a taxi driver? Ok! Yes this one right here? Well, thank you fake postman! Yes have a nice night.

Literally running around London.

So Kathryn, Lauren and I asked a taxi driver if he knew where Her Majesty’s Theater was located.

“You wanna get in?”

“Ha. No sir. Could you just simply tell me…”

“You want in?” he asked again, smashing a turkey sandwich into his face.

“No. I do not. We do not “want in,” I said beginning to get frustrated.

“You gonna pay?”

Ok. I have a feeling we’re not in Ireland anymore.

“Can you tell me or no,” I said. The clock was ticking and I didn’t have time for little taxi man games. Luckily my favorite fake postman came up behind us.

“Coo you jost tell ‘deem where dis is, yes?” he asked.

“Ok," the driver consented. "You’re gonna go down this street here, you see? Go take a left, and then you’re gonna start looking for Haymarket, see? It’s on the left there. On Haymarket.”

I gave him a quick “thanks” but saved my genuine gratitude for the fake postman. “No problem,” he said and went back up the street with his random letters that obviously were not today’s mail.

So the adventure continued. We ran through the streets on London, skipped over obstacles, darted through traffic, and frantically searched for Haymarket. Lauren had to remove her shoes and prance around the city barefoot to keep up. But we were going to see that show, even if our feet were bleeding by the time we arrived. I had already learned in Ireland that blisters will fade...right?

Nice...who needs shoes.

Finally we found the theater. Between Kathryn’s knowledge of London, the fake postman, and the annoying taxi driver, we arrived at 7:15 for the 7:30 show.

Love love love.

“25 pounds for obstructed view,” the man in the booth told us. Last minute tickets are always cheaper, but unless we sat near a column, they would still cost over 70 pounds – which is over $130 American dollars.

So behind a column we sat. And it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter at all. At first we thought it would be horrible, but once the play started I think it’s safe to say we were all captivated by the magic of the London theater and swept away by the actors voices that led us to a world a mystery and intrigue in a 1800s opera house.

And for 25 pounds? Heck ya!

Harebrained scheme: Check

London play: Check

Touristy pictures by Big Bed and red payphones: Check

Classic holiday with Kathryn: Check, Check, Check!

You better believe I was talking in a British accent...

Being a tourist.

Me and P on "holiday."

The Weekend Update

I was doing so well keeping the blog updated! But now I’m a bit behind…too much is happening. Then again that’s not a bad thing.

In short, last weekend I saw Cork, the Ring of Kerry, Galway, and Howth. I loved the city of Galway - it reminded me a lot of a college town. Howth, which is right above Dublin, was also pretty and had a very cozy pub where we relaxed before the work week started again.

Because I’m behind on post, and slightly short on time…I’ll give you some favorite moments:

1) Sleeping in a “cinema room” – Yes, I have mentioned this in a few pictures, but it’s just such a “European travel moment” kind of story that it deserves repeating. About nine of us had made reservations at a hostel in Cork. Somehow the dates had been reserved wrong, and our group was booked for a different time. There were not a lot of options for housing because it’s the height of the travel months here, so the hostel offered the cinema room for us to crash in. And we literally just crashed it in – there were some random mattresses, and a few beanbags, scattered pillows, and heaps of sheets and blankets.

But honestly…it was great. Best sleep of the weekend, right there on the floor of a cinema room curled up in a beanbag.

We were gouped with luggage...

Classy room

2) French food in Galway – YUM. So everyone I’m with knows Italian, French, and English (I feel so uncultured!) and are mostly from Italy. For part of the dinner, I had no idea what people were saying. But it really didn’t matter because for the first time in several days, I was not eating a gas station sandwich or a convenience store coffee with a cheap banana. It was REAL food. Of course there was a real price tag, ha-ha… (nervous laughter here because parents are reading the blog) …but you know 15 Euros for a three course meal was the cheapest item on the menu and well worth it!

As they say over here, "Brilliant!"

3) Random rain – Ok so this was not a favorite moment at the time, but looking back it was actually very humorous. It was a beautiful day, and after all the rain we had endured while traveling through the Ring of Kerry, everyone was soaking up the sun. Our group walked to the furthest point on a pier and relaxed happily surrounded by blue skies and water. I felt a slight chill in the air and grabbed my rain jacket. The instant I put it on, three or four fat rain drops splashed me. Within 30 seconds it was raining hard, and pounding us at a horizontal slant. We began to run back towards land, but by the time we reached shelter, the storm was over and it was beautiful again. All of us were completely soaked on the front and dry on the back…lovely!

Calm before the storm in Galway

4) Town and Seal hunting – On our way home to Dublin, we wanted to stop at some town near a lake. I don’t really know where because everyone was yelling directions in Italian. But even though we found two lakes, we never found the town we were originally searching for.

Finally we wound up in Howth for some dinner and a drink at the local pub. I had my first real European “fish and chips” experience (couldn’t tell you which was worse...but then again maybe I was just being a food snob after my delicious French dinner and from being tired of cheap chips). We also strolled along the docks searching for these seals that Alex swore he had seen before.

Let me tell you – there were no seals in Howth that night. We looked everywhere, and even began to make seal noises, which was extremely humorous because they are very hard to impersonate with a straight face. At one point we thought we had found them and Alex said in an Italian accent “Look Britney…follow my finger! You can see the seals!”

No Alex. Those are birds.

Still, the weekend was great. I will just have to go back to Howth and find the seals on my own!

Howth minus the seals...

You Think I'm Whaaa...?

This weekend was so packed it could be broken up into lots of little posts. But, let’s start at the very beginning…

I had just gotten back from the Village of the Dead (for those of you who do not understand this reference, scroll down to the last entry). I was going to meet up with Alex, the other intern at the newspaper, and his friends for a trip through the west side of Ireland. Having only been in Dublin (oh yah…and Slane), I was quite excited to experience the countryside.

We decided the best place to meet up would be in the parking lot of our old office, near an apartment complex. It was accessible and I knew the bus route to get there. So I arrived a bit early and sat on the sidewalk, happy to relax after a long Friday of run, run, run.

I’ll admit; I sat there a long time. Maybe forty minutes? My green backpack was crammed full of everything I would need for the weekend, and I was wearing my rain jacket just in case a sporadic storm made an appearance. Sitting on the sidewalk, I watched mothers with strollers walk by, fathers and daughters running out of their apartments for last minute errands, couples getting wine or going on dates. I smiled at them all because it was Friday and everyone was happy!

Well, not everyone apparently. Now just imagine: Me…sitting on a sidewalk with a backpack, smiling or playing with my phone. Is this a threatening image? Do I intimidate people? I think not.

“Excuse me miss…’er you doing okay tere?” An older gentleman was standing near me, on the other side of the apartment complex gate.

“Uh, yes thanks.”

“Whatcha doin’ here for?” he persisted.

“Just sitting.” I said and grabbed my bag, half rolling my eyes. If he was going to talk, I was going to move. There is a general rule with people I see in the city: you can look, but you can’t talk. Smile, nod, or even say hi to me. That’s okay! But if you strike up a conversation and you are under 55, I’m going to have to be careful. At that moment I was enjoying people watching, and didn’t really want to bother with

small talk.

“Well…’er..yah see, I had gotten some calls bout a girl sitting on da sidewalk…”

Wait me? I stopped fidgeting and looked back in his direction. “Oh?”

“Yah…are you..are you waitin’ fer someting?”

“Yes! Oh yes, sorry. I’m waiting for a friend to pick me up. And we both worked around here so it was just easiest…”

“Oh good good! Fine then…no don’t worry ‘bout movin’ ten miss. I work at the apartment complex, and yah know when I get a call I just got ta check. But cha won’t be causin’ no trouble. People, yah know? Callin’ over anting, usually homeless people…but most tha time, nobody’d do yah any harm.” And with that the man vanished back to his office.

Um. Wait a minute.

Did something just think I was homeless? Excuse me, this rain jacket is nice! And this book bag is only full because I’m leaving for a weekend holiday! Homeless?! Please…I even showered today! And then I silently cursed all of those people I had been smiling at. “Bet it was the mother with the stroller who called,” I thought to myself. “She was in such a rush! Hardly smiled back…”

But I felt a twinge of guilt for being so appalled at the idea of being mistaken for homeless. I know people that live on the streets in the States; I’ve had conversations and dinners with them. They are more than just an emotionless face, or a nuisance to society, ready to be swept under the carpet of urban neighborhoods. At that moment I told myself I would not walk briskly by the homeless people lining the Liffey River without giving them a smile…they at least deserve this small gesture. It would be unsafe to do much more than this when alone, but my mentality needed tweaking.

None the less, the situation was quite humorous. I quickly texted Alex and told him to “HURRY UP” because people think I’m freaking homeless. Then I giggled for a good five minutes, probably scarring more people now because I looked like a laughing lunatic.

And secretly…I hoped that women with the stroller would walk by again and see me laughing by myself
and think “She’s crazy AND homeless!”

Ha! So what if I was!

Here are a few pics from the weekend...they are all on Facebook, but I feel weird writing a blog with no pictures:

In the car...

On the beach...

The Ring of Kerry - this is a circle you drive through County Kerry for scenic moutains and beachs

The town of Galway - One of my favorite places in Ireland I think.

More Galway. See that beautiful sky? This was right before it lashed (POURED) on us. And maybe within 7 minutes...the sun changed its mind and came back out.

Oh thank you Ireland ;)

More from last weekend to come...

Pain in Slane

“Excuse me, yes hi. I’m taking pictures for Lifetimes Newspaper of people in the village of Slane. Lifetimes? Yes…oh good you’ve heard of it. Anyways, would you like a picture in the paper?

No…ok well have a nice day."

“Mam! Yes hi, I’m working for Lifetimes Newspaper…You haven’t? Yes you can get it at the grocery store. Would you mind a picture for the paper? No…haha no that’s fine. Ok, have a good one.”

“No? Ok well thank you!”

“No? Alright, enjoy the day.”

"No?”

BAH! I have discovered villagers of tiny Irish towns are few and far between. My goal for work was to take enough pictures to fill a page of people “out and about” in Slane. This would be about 15 to 20 pictures.

Well…I came in contact with 15 people total – only 7 of which would give me a picture. It was like as soon as villagers saw my camera they ran away screaming. I was then told the best place to find people would be at Slane Castle. There are always plenty of tourists, and it was a nice day so the walk would be enjoyable.

So I began my journey. I walked on “footpaths” (not sidewalks) for about 20 minutes because the “brief walk” was actually a mile and a half away. Then the paths turned into grass and I found myself walking down a highway.

Looks Irish, doesn't it?

Ok. Whatever. I’ve literally walked the heels off of my feet since I have been here. No big deal.

But then there was a small problem…

The castle was closed. Did you know you could close a castle? I honestly didn’t think about it. Especially on a sunny, Friday afternoon, in the height the tourism months! Not cool Slane, not cool.

Slane Castle: NOT OPEN

This was more of a grimace than a smile; but at least I found a castle.

I was mad. I had woken up early – commuted to work for an hour by bus– just to be sent off to Dublin City Centre to catch another type of bus. I rode that bus for an hour, walked around the village of the dead, and was then told by the locals that the CLOSED CASTLE was “right up the street!?!” Next I needed to catch the bus home (which was 30 minutes late), go back to the office by bus, run and pack for my weekend travels, and then head to City Centre to rendezvous BY BUS.

Waiting for the bus...in Slane...in the rain..makes me insane...

I hate you bus and the 5 hours I spent on you or waiting for you that day! *Note - I AM having a good time and this weekend was great, but I'm not going to miss public transportation.*

Ya. You hurt me Slane. But I conquered you!

Accents and Slang 101

Before “jumping across the pond” to this “island” I studied up on “me slang” and Irish sayings. Almost everything I hear in context, I can understand. But occasionally my boss will mumble a few words and laugh, or Val and Kieran will ask me a question and I’ll think it was a statement. Even Sean and Eve’s vernacular has a certain twist that I don’t always fully comprehend.

Here are a few of the foreign words I have come across:

1) Runners or sometimes sneakers – no such thing as tennis shoes

2) Crisps – American chips, and the northern Dublin accent for this is “crips”

3) Fiver or Tener – 5 Euros or 10 Euros

4) Cinema – the movies

5) Holiday – vacation

6) University – never college

7) Dubs – Dubliners

8) Ganglands – term for gangs

9) Dort – the way that the wealthy southern Dubliners say “Dart.” This is the transportation system that links many of the surrounding suburbs.

10)Hoover – vacuum cleaner, even if it’s not a Hoover Vacuum

Some saying to remember:

1) “Them knackers ‘il knife ya” – translated: Those people will pull a knife on you! Val said this to me when she was talking about the Travelers, or people who roam the country in trailers and tents. They are like modern day gypsies and are portrayed in the movie “Snatch.”

2) “Cheers” – This is said ALL the time. When people are hanging up the phone, when you give someone an answer, as a replacement for “thanks,” when drinking a drink, when saying goodbye; everything!

3) “God Bless” – This is also said in parting or when hanging up the phone all the time, even by non-religious people.

4) “Needle on the sky” – This is a slang expression Dubliners use when describing the Spire. This millennium statue literally looks like a pointy piece of medal. But it is right in the middle of O’Connell Street, which reminds me of Times Square. It’s a good place to meet up or to look for if lost.

5) “I’m only slaggin’ ya” – Like saying, I’m just messing with you or just kidding.

6) “Are you for a cuppa?” – Would you like a cup of tea or coffee? And tea or more widely used…

7) “With a splash of what you like” – A drink with a shot of your choice of liquor. When it pubs, a lot of the signs list several sodas and juices and then say “with a splash.”

8) “Ya know? Eh? Ya?” – Sentence enders, even when not really asking a question.

9) “You wrecked?” – Are you tired/a mess/ having a crazy day?

10) “Sniffy Liffey” – The Dubliner slang for the River Liffey, which cuts Dublin in two. I’ve only actually smelled something bad once, but it is not the most beautiful color.

11) “Going to the City Centre?” – Are you going near O’Connell Street, the Spire, Grafton Street or Temple Bar? Sometimes Dubs will say “I’m going into town” as well.

Some rhyming slang I have heard:

1) Arabs knees = keys

2) A cock and a hen = ten cent piece

3) Ones and twos - shoes

And finally here are a few ways the Dubliners speak (each county sort of has their own Irish accent):

*There are no “t-h’s.” Everything comes out like a hard “t.” So for example when you are getting two Euros and thirty three cents back, it becomes “two Euros and turty-tree” cents. And a lot of the time the word “the” becomes “ta” or “te.”

*Some Dubs will say “wha? Sea. Shee” Instead of “What? Seat. Sheet.” They leave the final “t” off of words. This can become very confusing and sounds a lot like British cockney to me.

Yays and Yucks

Some high and low points:

Yays

*Yay to Irish people in general who help you with directions.

*Yay to good food. My host mother makes great dinners.

*Yay for the weather being extremely nice. All of June and this week has been sunny and warm. The only storm we’ve gotten since I have been here was at 3:30 in the morning.

*Yay to having nice people at work and other interns to meet up with.

*Yay for two hour conversations on Switzerland, Italy, America and their differences. I feel so much more informed!

*Yay to the word “gotcha.” For some reason it is well-liked by non Americans (and I didn’t realize how many times I say it in a day).

*Yay to Noriko, the Japanese exchange student that I live with. It's more fun to tour Dublin with people, and she has been great!

*Yay to being exceptionally well-informed in world news due to reading and rewriting it five hours a day.

*Yay to eating at Subway today. Smelled like home!

*Yay to accents. Love the accents.

*And Yay to only working from 10-5. It’s great.

Yucks

*Yuck to having to always try and convert Celsius and military time in my head.

*Yuck to not really knowing if I have a curfew or trying to remember which key and what alarm. Living with a host family is great, but confusing too.

*Yuck to trying to figure out the buses. I know my usual one and a few important stops, but there are no bus maps ANYWHERE, including online. There are a few guides, but I need something like the New York subway map.

*Yuck to the lack of air conditioning. I know they really don’t need it when it’s only warm maybe 3 months out of the year, but this heat wave has me sleeping on top of my covers.

*Yuck to cellphones. No double yuck to “mobile phones.” That is a long story I am not even sure I want to talk about.

*Yuck to the hot and cold, bipolar shower that I’m still not sure if I am supposed to turn off and on in between shampooing and conditioning.

Overall, yay to Ireland.

A great Irish meal my host mom made.

Noriko, from Japan at the Gennius Storehouse with me.

Amazing coffee from the Woodstock Cafe.

The other interns, Alex and Mirjam, at the office.

"Um, Excuse Me?"

I can see mountains way in the distance from the third floor of my row house in Finglas, Dublin. I have a room by myself, although right across the hall from me is a Japanese exchange student who is learning English at a school on the other side of the city. We have funny, clipped conversation, but it’s nice to have another student here with me.

“You take the bus today?” she asked me on my first morning.

“Yes, yes. I think I take the same one you do.”

“Same bus?”

“Yah...the same as you. Do you take the 140?” I ask her.

“Yes. Bus 140.”

“Yes me too! Maybe I’ll walk with you to the bus stop since you know where it is.”

“Walk with me to bus?”

“Yes, because you know where it is.”

“Yes, yes,” she says smiling.

My room.

The window that stays open all the time because Ireland is hot.

Row houses from the window.

Charlestown Shopping and Apartments from my window. Behind them are mountains, but it's too cloudy here to really see them.

I made it to the bus stop just fine. In fact, I even guessed the right stop to get off at because I had Google-Earthed Phibsboro, Dublin so many times. Unfortunately Google Earth never found 26a Phibsboro Place. And neither could I.

For an hour I walked up and down Phibsboro Road looking for Phibsboro Place. I asked several students, parents, elderly, two bartenders, two convenience store workers, a mechanic, the owner of a gas station, and an off duty taxi driver. None of them knew where it was either.

Finally I asked an old man who was pacing outside of a pub.

“Um, excuse me have you ever heard of Phibsboro Place? I’m looking for City Wide News.” At the point I’m forty minutes late and hate the fact that I’m wearing heels and carrying a 10 pound suitcase.

“Yer. No, no I ‘aven’t but yer know who might? Maybe the bartender here. I drink here all the time you know? Let’s go see if he’s ever ‘eard of this place yer talking of.”

Of course the bartender had not.

“Well, hold on here deary. Here comes my good friend Pete. See I told Pete I’d meet him here I did. HEY Pete! This young lady’s got a question fer yah. And no it’s not to marry yah,” he said laughing at his little joke.

Pete was about 65 or so as well and turned to face me. “Can I help yah?” I repeated my question again. He didn’t know either but told me the post office would have to know and directed me to there. An old woman who had been half-listening to my questions was also walking that way.

“I show yah where to go. Haven’t heard of that place myself, either!”

The people in the post office didn’t know, but THANK GOD, a postman loading mail out back told me where I needed to go. He was very nice and even walked me a bit up the street so I could see where I would need to turn. From what I counted he was the 18th person I had asked.

“You know, Phibsboro place is a bit of a misnomer,” he said. “There’s no sign for that road!”

I found the turn, and sure enough, there was no sign. In fact, it wasn’t so much a road as it was a gated community.

Yes, problem number two: a gate.

Luckily, a car drove through and I snuck in behind them. Of course this brought me to my last predicament: where was City Wide News? This was like a neighborhood! I rang the bell for #26, but realizing that was an apartment, I quickly walked away. No one was home anyways.

Finally I looked up. There was a pair of little iron stairs that led to more doors. Of course these also had more buzzers and locks, but I saw a sign and knew I was in the right place. Exactly at that moment someone walked outside, realized I was lost, and thought I had to be the new intern.

City Wide News is written in yellow on the windows. That was my only clue. Picture taken from my bus stop.

“Yes! Yes. I am sorry I was late! I got ridiculously lost.”

“No prob, it’s a hard place to find. Just follow me now.”

I walked up to a large yellow room with about seven people at different desks. I was quickly introduced to a very friendly group of editors and the advertisement crew. Then I met the other interns (yes other interns…YAY). We all share the kitchen table and have free access to the coffee and tea. Mirjam is from Switzerland, and Alex is from Italy. Both of them have been here several weeks so they could show me what to do on my first day.

Most importantly, they gave me the code for the gate and the door. Mirjam then let me follow her to the supermarket for lunch, and explained some details of the job. She and Alex were also nice enough to take me into the city after work for a few hours.Good first day! After I found the place…

Interesting Irish Things So Far:

• It doesn’t get dark here until nearly 11 o’clock in the summer.

• French fries, or chips, served on a plate are sometimes eaten with a fork…opps.

• Everywhere I go there are these instant water boilers, and instant coffee. Besides Starbucks, I haven’t seen a coffee maker.

• My host-brother says words like “that’s grand”, “that’s class”, and “that’s sound” when something is good.

• I do not like sparkling water – I accidently picked that up instead of bottled water. Yuck.

Just Get There

“And what are ya here fer miss?” “Business.” I smile. That sounds grown-up. “Business? Really now?” The man from Immigration eyed my tie-dye shirt. “Ok. An internship.” That still sounds grown up right? “Aw right Miss. Fitzgerald. You have fun now,” he smiled and said those infamous words I wanted to hear. “Welcome to Ireland.”
I felt like I was in a movie…I was in another country and Ireland was mine to do what I wanted with it. What an adventure… “I Have Confidence” from The Sound of Music was on repeat in my mind.
Then, of course, reality kicked in at full force. It was a whirlwind. Get my baggage, change dollars into Euros. Where’s the bathroom? How do I watch my luggage when the two suitcases won’t fit in the stall? Coffee coffee coffee. Excuse me, where can I find a taxi? Sir how much will this cost? You don’t know where that address is? No I don’t either that’s why I’m asking you! What are you saying…that is not English. This must be the house! Mrs. Hayes? AH! Nice to meet you too. Yes, traveling was fine. I love your house! This is my room? You are going to work so I can sleep? I love Ireland already. My host family has been so sweet to me. My room is great. And I start work tomorrow. I’ll update more…after SLEEP.