Can't sleep. Everytime my head touches the pillow I hear my heartbeat pounding through my skull. Doesn't matter which side of my head. All sides equally amplify. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the cheese. Cheese is probably not the best idea before bed. Maybe I'll have nightmares again.
These days are passing too fast. It only occurred to me 5 minutes ago when I realised it is now the 11th of April. I have less than a week. God damn it.
It's funny how certain numbers are time thresholds. In this instance, it was the calendar getting to 11. Not the jump into double digits but the number 11. Another example is when I consider it to be 'late' at night. It always happens at 37 past. The hour varies depending on when I have to be up. On a night I had to work in the morning, it became late at exactly 12.37am. On a normal night it would be 1.37am. Sometimes 2.37am. Probably more often it's 2.37. It's always at 37 past. I don't know why that is.
It's a good thing I came here. Aside from the obvious reasons, I'm just glad I've had France redeemed for me. Paris ate my soul in January and I had to get back into this country to get it back. The French outside of Paris really are better in every way. It can be tiresome at times I suppose. The double-kiss hello grates on me sometimes. On the whole though, I've been liking the feel of the culture. The food has been good. I've had a few home cooked meals with French families that have been delicious. Eating copious amounts of bread and cheese has been good too. It stirs up a lot of memories of home, and a happier time before Grant Street got out of hand.
I went and helped baby sit some French kids which was a blast. I'm not sure whether or not to be proud of the fact, but I totally kicked one of the kids asses at Mario Kart Wii. I was going to let him win, but he was trash-talking me in French so I rose to the occasion. After that things got physical. Spent a few hours having kids piling on top of me on the floor. Then I had the bright idea to start picking them up, throwing them up, spinning them round, hanging them upside down, and all the other tricks in the repertoire. They got a little over-excited. It'll be interesting to see how it goes down when I see them again this week.
So it's Easter weekend now. For a change this is a public holiday weekend where I'm not feeling alone and homesick. Nothing will go wrong for me this time. This last week has been without doubt the only time in this whole trip that I've felt truly 'at home' someplace. Even in Letterkenny with the family it wasn't this good. I'm almost too relaxed.
I wonder how I'll go for the last phase of my trip: Poland and Singapore. I guess it would be natural to think those would be two separate phases, but I'm not thinking of things in geographical terms. I have an overwhelming sense that I've found the last piece of the Triforce (if I can go all Zelda: Ocarina of Time on you). I've found so many things on this trip. So many pieces of myself that I had unknowingly scattered across the world. I've reached the end of the road of self-discovery for the time being. My quest is over. Now the last phase left is the homecoming.
Of course, that doesn't mean I still don't have a few more adventures to have along the way.
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label culture. Show all posts
Saturday, 11 April 2009
Monday, 19 January 2009
Accent confusion in the Northern hemisphere
There was a time where I entertained the notion of putting on different accents as I traveled the world, seeing if I could pass myself off as a local, or as a traveler from somewhere else entirely. As it turns out, my regular accent can be just as confounding. Back when I was Stateside, most people I spoke to couldn't tell where I was from, on the streets or in the hostels, and I'm finding it much the same in Ireland.
Most commonly I am mistaken for being from a posh area of England. I'm starting to think that maybe I do, because the people that have said it are fairly reliable types: relatives in Letterkenny, and some of the smarter people I met in America, like James.
In America I was surprised that some people would ask me which State I was from. In that situation I would usually affect the appropriate accent and say "I am from Minnesota" which occasionally received a laugh, but was once or twice taken to be fact.
On occasion people have thought I was from New Zealand. Apparently that's a common mix up around this part of the world, but I would have thought the differences were pretty full-on. Kiwi's sound closer to South Africans then Aussies in my opinion.
On that note, sometimes Australians don't even know I'm Australian. Now this might be partially because I am subconsciously altering my voice to avoid dealing with me fellow countrymen. Most of the time I try not to even speak when I'm around Australians and just let them assume I'm some standoffish non-English speaker from somewhere nera the Mediterranean.
It's not always bad. I generally have an affinity with Melbournians. They get it. And they can almost always tell where I'm from. As for the rest of the Australians, I generally try to stay away. Last night a group of American girls who have recently started studying in Cork took me for a Dubliner. When I told them I was from Perth they told me that there was a couple from Perth staying in our room. Naturally I was later forced to interact with these people and that was a mistake. Everyone else I've met from Perth has been terrifying in some way. This time the 'Perth' label was something of a misnomer. They weren't from Perth, they were country folk that now lived in Perth. You know how it is with country folk. It's one way or the other, and this time it was the other.
It's all part of a collage of cultural confusion. I'm doing everything backwards and mixed up. In America I was reading European writers and now I'm reading all the Americans. In the States I mixed mostly with Brits and French, now I'm surrounded by Americans. Strangely enough all the Americans I've met here seem a lot less crazy / more normal then a lot of the people I met in the US. I don't know if that's a case of travelers having a certain mindset that can be easily related to, or if it's just that a whole country full of Americans was a little intimidating at the time.
In any case I feel like I've been hitting the right balance of people. In America it wasn't always easy to talk to locals, and I usually kept to the hostel crowds. In Ireland though the hostel crowds contain so many diverse characters that are local, as well as the usual mix of foreigners.
Most commonly I am mistaken for being from a posh area of England. I'm starting to think that maybe I do, because the people that have said it are fairly reliable types: relatives in Letterkenny, and some of the smarter people I met in America, like James.
In America I was surprised that some people would ask me which State I was from. In that situation I would usually affect the appropriate accent and say "I am from Minnesota" which occasionally received a laugh, but was once or twice taken to be fact.
On occasion people have thought I was from New Zealand. Apparently that's a common mix up around this part of the world, but I would have thought the differences were pretty full-on. Kiwi's sound closer to South Africans then Aussies in my opinion.
On that note, sometimes Australians don't even know I'm Australian. Now this might be partially because I am subconsciously altering my voice to avoid dealing with me fellow countrymen. Most of the time I try not to even speak when I'm around Australians and just let them assume I'm some standoffish non-English speaker from somewhere nera the Mediterranean.
It's not always bad. I generally have an affinity with Melbournians. They get it. And they can almost always tell where I'm from. As for the rest of the Australians, I generally try to stay away. Last night a group of American girls who have recently started studying in Cork took me for a Dubliner. When I told them I was from Perth they told me that there was a couple from Perth staying in our room. Naturally I was later forced to interact with these people and that was a mistake. Everyone else I've met from Perth has been terrifying in some way. This time the 'Perth' label was something of a misnomer. They weren't from Perth, they were country folk that now lived in Perth. You know how it is with country folk. It's one way or the other, and this time it was the other.
It's all part of a collage of cultural confusion. I'm doing everything backwards and mixed up. In America I was reading European writers and now I'm reading all the Americans. In the States I mixed mostly with Brits and French, now I'm surrounded by Americans. Strangely enough all the Americans I've met here seem a lot less crazy / more normal then a lot of the people I met in the US. I don't know if that's a case of travelers having a certain mindset that can be easily related to, or if it's just that a whole country full of Americans was a little intimidating at the time.
In any case I feel like I've been hitting the right balance of people. In America it wasn't always easy to talk to locals, and I usually kept to the hostel crowds. In Ireland though the hostel crowds contain so many diverse characters that are local, as well as the usual mix of foreigners.
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