Funny thing—i've been trying like MAD to get a recording from Radió na Gaeltachta of the interview i mentioned in the last post. my emails were either bounced back or whatever. but yesterday i got home and there was a copy in the day's mail! i listened to it and i have to say i have trouble listening because even though the interview went fine i get so embarassed about my voice, my Irish, how nervous i was, etc. if i hadn't been so nervous it would have been 300 times better. “I will not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Etc...” but it was good to finally get it. they made my voice sound more manly than i really am too. Bonus!
by now (on the trip i mean) i'm getting a bit sick of speaking in Irish. well how long do you expect me to go? don't get me wrong--i still love, teach and speak the language as often as i can. but i have a new respect for anyone who moves to a new country and has to learn the language of its people. it's frustrating and exhausting. this is the day i actually started avoiding people so i didn't have to talk so much. it didn't work, though. apparently i did talk to people because there are lists in my journal of poets that i should read, which i haven't yet. reading peotry in a foreign language is difficult but the nice thing about it is there's not necessarily a particular context so you get all sorts of words thrown together. well—depending on the poetry i guess. not like in a newspaper where you can expect a certain vocab and certain words pop up again and again—which is also helpful. blather blather.
class as usual today. i think this was the day of the “Great Debate”--”An Díospóireacht Mhór” is something like it in irish, i think. there were 2 teams—one in favor of the decision to cancel all Aer Lingus serveces from Shannon and move them to Belfast, the other against. i said not 2 words as i had not any opinion on the matter, and i had not all the facts. i don't know what merciful power was at work there, but i thank it from the bottom of my soul!
There was also a lecture given on the topic of the magical island of Hy Bhrasaíl (prononced “high VRASS-eel) which supposedly is to be seen every 7 years from the westernmost coast of Ireland, somewhere in the vicinity of the dingle peninsula. there's a lot of legend built up around it. some think it's the lost city of Atlantis. I suspect that when J.R.R.tolkein was researching mythologies he was influenced by this one—his "Numenor" also disappeared in the west.
by now (on the trip i mean) i'm getting a bit sick of speaking in Irish. well how long do you expect me to go? don't get me wrong--i still love, teach and speak the language as often as i can. but i have a new respect for anyone who moves to a new country and has to learn the language of its people. it's frustrating and exhausting. this is the day i actually started avoiding people so i didn't have to talk so much. it didn't work, though. apparently i did talk to people because there are lists in my journal of poets that i should read, which i haven't yet. reading peotry in a foreign language is difficult but the nice thing about it is there's not necessarily a particular context so you get all sorts of words thrown together. well—depending on the poetry i guess. not like in a newspaper where you can expect a certain vocab and certain words pop up again and again—which is also helpful. blather blather.
class as usual today. i think this was the day of the “Great Debate”--”An Díospóireacht Mhór” is something like it in irish, i think. there were 2 teams—one in favor of the decision to cancel all Aer Lingus serveces from Shannon and move them to Belfast, the other against. i said not 2 words as i had not any opinion on the matter, and i had not all the facts. i don't know what merciful power was at work there, but i thank it from the bottom of my soul!
There was also a lecture given on the topic of the magical island of Hy Bhrasaíl (prononced “high VRASS-eel) which supposedly is to be seen every 7 years from the westernmost coast of Ireland, somewhere in the vicinity of the dingle peninsula. there's a lot of legend built up around it. some think it's the lost city of Atlantis. I suspect that when J.R.R.tolkein was researching mythologies he was influenced by this one—his "Numenor" also disappeared in the west.
Later we all went to this place called, em, what was it called? An Teach Siamsa, or something like that. Síamsa means entertainment. It was a big open seisiún where everyone had an opportunity to do a song or tune or recite poetry or whatever. I did “ceallach an airgid” again, accompanied myself on the bodhrán. it was a particularly wet night, and very dark out in the countryside there. the house was a jumbo-sized version of a teach ceann tuí—a thatch-roofed cottage. there were freakin' bleachers in there! and a lighting rig! i got a few good vids and pics.
after that, the four of us fine friends went to a book launch at An Leabhar Pub, somewhere nearby. we got a little lost but got directions from someone. the book was poetry (again with the poetry!) and written by the wife of a guy in my class, Billy, his wife's name was...was...Carolne, i think. don't quote me. we sort of missed the launch, but there were a few musicians there, and this guy from Turkey, who had a lot of opinions. i was a bit drunk so i didn't really care much. Patricia gave me a ride home and that was a night.
1 comment:
sound technician, "hmmn, let's see... more man, less muppet."
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