Patience, Patience

This past week was a test in patience; the Irish are frustratingly laid-back and unorganized, I am (perhaps unnecessarily) stressed and obsessively organized. I started classes on Monday (at 1pm), and my entire week consisted of listening to lecturers read over the syllabus, and remark on the pages of books they recommended (but didn't expect us to read). The second hour of most classes were spent recapping the syllabus for those who missed the first class. I guess i'll be crystal clear on expectations for all of my classes :) I did, however, have a chance to think about changing a few of my classes, as the lecturers turned out to be either incomprehendable (did I just make up a word?), or incredibly awkward. At first I thought that this might be a good learning experience, as most students at large universities have to go through classes with terrible lecturers. But then I realized that i'm here to enjoy myself. Why settle for anything less than what I experience at Mount Holyoke? (Which I am appreciating more and more). I've settled on the following classes:

-Medieval Europe: 5th-9th Century
-Government Policy and Economic Development in Ireland since 1922
-Rural Geography: Concepts and European Perspectives
-Political and Cultural Geography
-Local Development: Theory and Practice
-Celtic Mythology, Religion and Folklore

My Local Development professor got his PhD from University of Michigan, and my former Medieval Europe (1250-1500) professor grew up in Detroit. Small world, eh?

In other news, I've noticed that Ireland is very receptive to lefties. All my lecture halls have writing surfaces that stretch the lenght of the row-- no tiny pull-up desks on the right hand side. They drive on the left side of the road (there is still no verdict on which side of the sidewalk they favor), and they had left-handed scissors for sale in the bookshop (not that this is unique to Ireland, but I find it difficult to find such basic ammenities in the US), among other things. I wonder if Ireland has a higher percentage of left handers...

I've finally figured out the bus system (which took considerable patience...). The bus schedules are unreliable, and there are no maps of the routes they run, but after many hours sitting at the bus stop, and carefully observing the bus numbers, I have come to the conclusion that it is bus #3 that regularly serves the bus stop near my apartment complex. I find the 1.60 fee to ride the bus a small price to pay for a dry and warm passage into town. It is particuarly useful when the wind is so strong, I fear I will not be able to keep my two feet on the ground. I've been nearly blown into a telephone pole already.

On Thursday I handed the bus driver 1,60 as usual and he looked at me, confused, and said "One euro sixty, eh?" I replied yes. "Are you over 16 years of age?" A bit insulted (but nevertheless understanding his query), I let him know that I was in fact 20 years of age. I guess its useful to know that if I ever need to penny-pinch, I could pass as a child and only pay 75 cents. Meanwhile, I'm doing my best to look 20.

Tomorrow I register with the Immigration Bureau, and I hope that my practice in being assertive over the past two weeks will aid me. There was some confusion among students as to what documents were required for immigration, as the University's instructions were different than those we recieved by the immigration officer upon arrival. I'm still worried that I don't have everything I need-- but tomorrow is a holiday in the states, so I won't be able to fix anything if I wanted to. I'll just go with the flow.

I hope that everyone in the states is staying warm. Every day I walk past palm trees here, which seem a bit incongruous with the weather, but I am reminded how mild the weather in Ireland is compared to home. It seems to already be spring here. I think i'm ok with that :)

Cheers

Caitlin