A Feis!

Last Friday was my Irish dance competition (called a feis). I wasn't going to blog about it here because I already called my family and told them all about it, posted about it on T-rav's family's blog, and commented about it on facebook. But my sister has demanded pictures, and so although they are few and of ill quality (phin had to sneak them since filming and fotography is strictly forbidden), I will acquiesce to her request.

Here we are waiting in line on "stage" in a row. I danced in 6 dances: 3 solo dances and 2 figure (or group) dances, but I danced one of the figure dances twice (we needed an extra person). My hair is exceptionally curly because Irish dancers traditionally either wear a super curly wig or put their hair in ringlets. You will notice, however, that some of the adults don't bother to conform to this tradition.

Two people danced at a time in front of 1 judge. When the two dancers on stage reached the last step of their dance, the assistant (the girl leaning forward with her hands clasped together) would send the next two dancers to prep and then start the second the first two finished. Does that make senese?


In the end, my shin splints and pulled ligament in my ankle were rewarded with 2 first places (1 medal and 1 trohpy), 1 second place, and 1 third place. Hurrah!

free time, anyone?

Before I start this post, I want to make it very clear that I am not yet bored. I'm simply anticipating the inevitable. And frantically trying to stave it off as long as possible.

What do you do when you've suddenly been thrust into a situation where you have absolutely no responsibilities? No job, no homework, no calling to fulfill, no kids to take care of, nothing at all. And how long can you go before you start feeling crazy? I know it sounds delightful to have that kind of time on your hands, but I'm not sure it really is so fabulous. It gives me too much time to think...and stew...and wonder...and become anxious about things I shouldn't worry about...

I'm in Memphis now. And I've been here for 2.5 days. And I'm starting to wonder how on earth I'm going to occupy myself for the next 2 months. Bear in mind that I currently have neither a car (hopefully that will soon change) nor a lot of money to spend doing touristy things. Occasionally one of our friends here who does have a car will want to go out and about (they've already hit most of the free days at the local museums), but I can't always rely on her to take me places. Our apartment complex does have a pool and a workout room, both of which I plan to take full advantage, but that leaves me with a good 12 hours of my day open and available. I can read (books and the internet), cook (though I have to plan everything ahead of time since I can't get to the grocery store), blog (but what do I blog about when all I do is stay in my apartment complex), sleep, sit around...

Any suggestions?

Death to Delta!

I think this should be the media's new motto for Delta. Or maybe something like Delta Sucks. Down with Delta! How about Delta: Armpit of Airlines or Delta: Bane of Airbuses!

Things always seem to go wrong when you fly with Delta. Either you're delayed or your luggage gets lost or your flight is overbooked (not that I entirely mind that...I haven't paid for a flight in 9 months of travel around the country because of all the vouchers I've gotten for volunteering to take a later flight). And they make you pay for your luggage. And if your luggage happens to be overweight, you might as well prepare to throw out your belongings; at $90 (yes, NINETY) per overweight bag, it hardly seems worth it for a few bottles of lotions or clothing items.

And that doesn't even get us started on the Delta employees. If you have a question or a problem with your Delta flight, good luck. You're most likely never going to find someone who actually can or will assist. If you need a new flight, you're on your own. If you have a question, beware of the look of death you will receive from the Delta personnel at the desk. Contrary to appearances and job title, they are not there to help you. They're there to be grumpy and irritated.

Try flying Jetblue. Or Southwest. Or even United. Just do yourself a favor and avoid Delta like the plague.

Do you have the heart of a revolutionary?

This is something I think about a lot. Like around July 4th. Or when my employers make a new rule that I don't like. Or when I see a group of people protesting something (preferably something worthwhile). Or when I think about Cuba or China or IRAN. Especially Iran. Especially now with the re-"election" of Ahmadinejad and all the accompanying protests from the minority groups. Because who really believes that Ahmadinejad won the election fair and square? I kind of doubt it.

But it makes me wonder what I would do if I were an Iranian living in Iran and angry with the election. Would I be one of the movers and shakers who formed the protests, or, in a more extreme circumstance, a revolution? Would I be too afraid to start the movement on my own, but readily join as soon as I saw others involved? Would I agree with the revolutionaries, but not actively participate? Or would I sit back and keep my mouth shut?

Perhaps I'm just being a romantic, but I think that I'm somewhere between the first and second group- if I had enough friends to get fired up with me (M, for example), I'd probably be among the first. Otherwise I think I'd be more likely to join a revolution, but not start it.

Do you have the heart of a revolutionary?

And just in case your mind is racing with excited thoughts of Che Guevara racing through your heads, he is most definitely not my idea of the ideal revolutionary. So if you're a lover of Che, I would not call you a revolutionary. I would call you something else. Something else I won't be putting up on my blog.

A Recap: Asian Adventure Part 2

I made it back alive! Here's a run-down of my lil camping trip.

We left Wednesday morning (late, of course) and drove down to Monument Valley with a short stop in Moab for lunch and then later a teeny town called Blanding to see a teeny museum that had a teeny Anasazi ruin we could wander through. When we got to our deluxe campground (complete with laundry, showers and a pool), I was surprised at how surprisingly speedy the students were at unloading all of our gear and setting up tents. They did all the cooking, cleaning up, setting up and taking down. You don't really expect it from such indoorsy city folk, but aside from being kind of whiny after our 5 hour hike, they were really quite tough.

Thursday we met up with Lorenz, our Navajo tour guide who took us to his land in Monument Valley for a very long hike. To get to the starting point, we had to drive about 25 minutes on dirt roads. Actually, considering I was driving a Prius, it was more like off-roading. Very exciting. Lorenz took us bushwhacking through canyons and up cliffs and showed us some petroglyphs and pictographs. And he played some tunes on his Navajo drum and flute. He knew everything (if you're planning a trip to Monument Valley, I highly recommend giving him a call for a tour of his land. But call me first because I don't have his number handy). And we found out that he was one of those "lucky" Native Americans who went to American boarding school where they cut his long locks of hair and he wasn't allowed to speak Navajo (punishable by soap in the mouth or worse). He had some fascinating stories to share.

Friday we left Monument Valley and headed to Hovenweep National Monument to see more Anasazi ruins. After a few hours there, we drove up to Moab and set up camp. Then the students went out into town on a scavenger hunt to find information rather than things (the point was to get them speaking with locals). To top it all off, we decided it would be a good idea to try to hike to Delicate Arch before bed. Which was a good idea, in theory, but didn't work out so well once we lost the trail and couldn't see a bloody thing under the super thick cloud cover. Those of you who've hiked this trail may recall the area of slick rock where the trail kind of goes away- that's where we lost it. And since we didn't want to be completely lost and stranded in the middle of the park (can you imagine!), we decided it would be wise to turn back.

Saturday was the day I had been dreading all week: rafting. And I'll admit it. Despite my fears, yes, rafting was fun. I liked it a lot. I'd even go again. BUT. My fears were well founded! About 3/4 of the way down the river, the raft I was in was "dump-trucked" (I think that's what they call it- maybe), meaning a nice wave hit us just before it crested, folding our raft in half and throwing all of us out. The raft landed on my shoulder, someone else landed on my head, and then another student grabbed my hair thinking it was a stable surface to pull themselves up on, pulling me underwater in the process. Miraculously, the students handled things very well. All of them ended up floating patiently by the raft until we could pull them back in. No tears, no casualties, and only 1 missing flip flop.

It was a really great trip.

An Asian Adventure

Tomorrow my fellow ESL instructor Maddie and I will be taking our ESL students to Southern Utah on a 4 day camping trip. We've spent the first 5 weeks of class discussing Utah history, native American history and current issues, desert geology and environmental issues. And now we're going to take 11 Koreans, 2 Thai, 2 Taiwanese and 1 Japanese to Monument Valley and Arches so they can experience the things they've learned. Their "assignments" include terribly difficult things like speaking English (which they whined and cried about), talking to the Navajo rancher we will be visiting, and participating in a scavenger hunt. Not a bad week of class, eh?

Oh, and we might go rafting.

Which sends shivers of terror up my spine, regardless of how many times Zillah assures me I won't be knocked out of my raft, trapped underneath it, sucked into a whirlpool and nearly drown (like she almost did). I didn't realize I had this irrational fear of rafting until we started talking about it and my stomach knotted up with waves of nausea. I'd rather go rock climbing. Or rappelling. bungee jumping. Or sky diving. Or almost anything other than rafting.

I hope it rains on Saturday.

Here's a list of the aspects of American culture we discuss in my ESL classes:

1. Basic American values- hard work, religion, material wealth, individual freedom...I can't remember the other two I usually talk about
2. Personal space
3. Classroom habits (students-teacher and students-students)
4. Slang
5. Racial issues
6. Greetings
7. How to deal with roommates
8. Dating - American style
9. Family relationships
10. Politeness

Apparently I should add what not to say. Any other suggestions?

My beef with foreigners

Have you ever noticed that some of the things foreigners will say to you that you would almost never hear an American say? Like maybe something like this...

• There are a lot of variations on the weight issue. You might hear something like this: Wow. You're a lot fatter since last year. Or have you gained weight? Or your butt has gotten a lot bigger. Or Are you pregnant? That dress looks makes you look pregnant.
  
• General physical appearance: Your hair looks really weird today. What did you do? You cut your hair? oh, it looks terrible. Or why are you wearing that sweater?
  
• My personal favorite: Why is your face all red? Why is it going red? Teacher, what's wrong? Why is your face so red it's going to burst like a squashed tomato?
• This is the one exception to the "Americans would never say this" rule (and please read this with the intonation of a 15 year old girl): Oh my gosh, you're soo sunburned. Did you know you're burned? Wow.
  

I'm sure you can think of some others...and I guess you might hear a few of these from Americans from time to time, but usually never unsolicited. And there's definitely a difference between asking someone's opinion and just telling them they look dreadful. If you ask me what I think of your new haircut, I'll give you my honest opinion. I'm not going to lie just to make you feel good. But I'm also not about to volunteer this type of information without being asked.

What it really comes down to is I'm sick of my students' uninvited commentary on my personal appearance. I'm done with it! The next time one of my students randomly informs me something about myself that I didn't ask to be told, I just might punch them.

Do you think I'd get fired for knocking out a student?

thanksh for ashking

I went to the dentist the other day (it was actually the Utah College of Dental Hygiene where I pay $5 and get X-rays and a full exam and cleaning. Sure, it takes a few hours, but it's almost free. And their clinic does all sorts of dental procedures for very cheap). There were 2 students taking turns working on my mouth, one who was very gentle and one who made my mouth raw and bloody (oh, Ginny, how I missed you!), and although they were both fairly new to the whole dental hygienist thing, they had already picked up on a very common dental habit. It goes something like this:

hygienist: how's your mother doin?
patient: oh she's fine, thanksh, but shesh hasjshn't had mush... (your words trail off as the hygienist starts scraping at one of your teeth).
hygienist: (hygienist removes metal scraper momentarily) I'm sorry, what was that?
patient: I said, sheshsh bun burry bushy wi lotsh... (speech is again rendered utterly impossible as the hygienist sticks the scraper back in).

I'm all for being friendly with your dentist/hygienist, but how on earth do they expect you to have a conversation with 1 metal scraper, 1 mirror, 1 set of hands, and 1 water sprayer and 1 spit sucker thinger shoved in your mouth?

a car quandry

The time has come for T-rav and me to buy a new car. Our Giño seems to be thinking about threatening transmission problems again (it hasn't done anything...yet...but T-rav is worried). We've been hunting for something new, something that might be worth a little more than $800, something that might not break down at the bat of an eye. But we can't decide what to get. Our selection is limited since T-rav is hunting in the greater Tennessee area (meaning the surrounding states and their neighbors- Texas, Illinois, Mississippi, etc). I'll let you imagine the kind of selection available in Memphis. Just think ghetto and you'll be about right.

All I know is that I want something small. Really small. And something cool. But I'm trying to decide if cool = frivolous. Does it? If a car is cool, but gets great mileage and has great reviews and looks the way we want it to, but might only have 2 doors is that bad? I just can't decide.