Seeing Anew

Wandering around Dublin last week I was struck by a few things. One, the sun. And what a difference a sunny day makes to the mood of a city. It just felt happier. I felt happier. Even though I don't mind "Irish summers", the last few weeks had been quite grey, to the point that we were joking that we didn't know what the big, yellow disc in the sky was.

Turns out that there's lots of things around Dublin that I've never noticed  before. I walked past Hodges Figgis (my favourite bookshop anywhere, though that might change if Waterestones ever renames it) and down Duke Street. Nothing unusual in that, I've walked that route hundreds of times. But it was the first time I noticed the lovely art deco work on the Clarks' shop, which faces into Duke Street.

I was on my way up to Stephen's Green, hoping to get a Wellife Collapsible Cup -  unfortunately I couldn't find the shop (well, I thought it was in the Stephen's Green Shopping Centre but it turns out the kitchen shop is in behind the shopping centre).

There I was, walking around Stephen's Green, searching for a shop that didn't exist when I noticed the giant clock. I had never seen it before! And no, it's not new, I'm told it's always been there.




















So maybe my problem isn't bad eyesight, I just needed the sun to come out. 

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Tongue twisted

I've just finished reading Adharanand Finn's book, "The Way of the Runner" and while the bits about Japanese ekiden runs were interesting, I was more interested in his account of his and his family's experience living in Japan when they didn't have any Japanese to begin with.

The bit that really stuck with me was how dependent the author was on others to translate, to fix things, to explain basic things - even to help with shopping. Finn's description is so accurate, he pinpoints what happens to adults who are dropped into living in a foreign language.

"The problem with living in a country where you don't speak the language is that you start to sound like a child when you're speaking, and so people begin to treat you like a child. Then, to complete the circle, you begin to act like one."

It reminded me a little of my experience in Iran, without any Farsi, I was dependent on others. As a native English speaker there's the added problem that often times people want to practise their English as well (being honest, I very quickly gave up trying to learn Faris which, it later transpired, turned out to be a fortuitous decision). So, with someone else always on hand to "help" I sort of lost my autonomy - it was a vicious circle, as I was dependent on others to translate this led people to became overly concerned about me and they would then organize my life, much as we do with children. (I say overly concerned, with hindsight it was a justifiable concern, but at the time I felt I was being micromanaged!)

My Farsi was fairly limited, I wasn't bad
when it came to food & drinks

But it also got me thinking about how I can get back to learning Arabic. I don't want to lose the limited command of the language that I had and I may just have found the answer to my quest for a conversation teacher. More about that later!

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Sans-chocolat Pain au Chocolat

It's been a while since I posted, I've been wading my way through 300+ footnotes, with the occasional baking break. Croissants and pains au chocolat were a great choice, regular breaks from the footnotes to roll and fold the dough.

Instead of just making croissants and pains au chocolat I decided to make a few with sultanas (or raisins as they are called here in the US). Which was all well and good until I picked one for breakfast, expecting some chocolate or a sultana and discovered, well, nothing. I wouldn't have minded if it had been croissant shaped but this was supposed to have something inside it. Quite a disappointing way to start the day!

Thanks to Hazbo for the recipe. The croissants are a funny shape because I wasn't paying attention and cut the wrong type of triangle. I'll know for the next time.

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Cycling hands

I've been making good use of Robin Hood recently and, with the lovely weather we've been having, my hands have been catching a lot of sun. My arms are usually well covered with suncream or long-sleeves, the suncream on my hands always ends up getting washed off.

But you have to look really hard to spot the difference - my hands are just slightly less ghostly than the rest of me!

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