The last few weeks have been hectic. Aside from the fact that I've been in Ireland spending time with my family, I have moved to a house in Durham town centre, There have been countless trips back and forth to the college I was living at, as few taxi journeys as possible, room painting, sorting through things and, mostly exciting of all, negotiating with Leo what he has to bring, as I am so so happy to say that he is moving to Durham in less than a month to do some further study.
I am absolutely walking on air, this is the happiest and most content I have been in such a long time. It makes all the nesting, moving, expense and hassle of it all totally worth it, as I now get to share my home once again with my partner in crime and other half.
On top of that, the season is most definitely changing, and I can feel that autumnal crispness in the air. I am ready to embrace the seasons once again and enjoy all that life has to offer. I am ready for pumpkin and squash, coats and rain, falling leaves and darkening evenings.
My time in Ireland made me realise how much I love and my miss my home and the people in it. It makes me so sad that for now I can only make the most of it through visits home, emails, phone calls and post. I can't wait to put down roots there, permanently.
You never know how much you need something until it's taken away from you.
I'm in the airport terminal on my way back to Durham. The last pages of the Easter book have been read, the last stitched completed on the scarf, the goodbye coffee has been drunk, and I am going back, once again, away from one 'home' to another 'home', of sorts, although I'm unsure how much any of these supposed homes mean anymore. Every time I go home and leave again there is a perpetual process of confusion, readjustment, shifted vowel emphasis, shifted expectations.
I am eternally grateful for the opportunity I have now to work and study and stay in one place and be paid for it. But I won't pretend it's not getting harder to maintain contact with friends and family, to find relevance in a homeland that feels so strangely foreign, to trade one set of vowels and familiar sounds for another, to set aside what you really want in order to help your future-self get a break. England is so close, but so alien.
There's something about leaving for the millionth time; you pack up your things, close the bedroom window, say goodbye to the dog and presume you'll never see the cat again (but she keeps on keeping on), tell your parents you love them and will see them soon, and on you go. Boarding passes, 100ml liquids, currencies and bank cards, hand luggage and sim cards. The signs and symbols of a fragmented existence. I'm hoping to grind the gears slowly to a halt, move somewhere of my own, gain a sense of permanence, have a life that is wholly my own. That's what I hope, anyway.
My brother and I (taken by Leo) at the Hill of Tara on Easter Sunday
It's been a very long time since I've blogged. In fact, I never even put the rest of those pictures from Iceland up. I swear, I'll get around to that. I have been keeping very very busy, flitting back and forth to Denmark for a few days when I can, getting started on preparation for my fieldwork, enjoying the beginnings of Spring after all the snow, rain and cold (although you wouldn't think it was Spring judging by today's weather, it was threatening to snow earlier and the rain has been lashing down all day).
Some snow from about a month ago
Life is a lot of things these days. I'm still coming to terms with my new Durham world, missing my old life a lot, getting to grips with my PhD. Being back in the UK is pretty strange, I honestly thought I had finished with all that, but this is life. I've been trying to get into a steady rhythm, getting up early (ish!), jogging and stretching, playing a lot of music (getting back into trad is hard, I've forgotten all my tunes, but rewarding), learning new things and being in a positive frame of mind.
I play in the ceili band at the college now, and we are pretty busy. It's a great way to meet people, learn new music (English folk music, who would have thought it?!), and go to events where, sometimes, you get treats (see below).
Nothing says 'It's Spring' like tulips, even if they only last two days before wiltage.
When Spring first came it was incredible. That Saturday afternoon, everyone was out and about, there was a noticeable shift in energy levels in the town.
Yogi tea is incredible, not least of all because you get posi messages like this.
This week, my PhD 'began' so to speak. More meetings, discussion groups, a whole day of intense classes about health and populations, and my very first supervisory meeting. Suffice to say it was overwhelming, completely and utterly, and I came away from it feeling like I had such a huge mountain to climb.
Luckily I then went straight to the library, made a Word document of everything we discussed, printed a lot of papers, loaned a lot of books, and Leo made me the most incredible 'goals' Excel sheet because he is eternally my saviour. So I left the library feeling a lot more together.
It's good to have goals to work towards.
I've been pretty busy, with meetings, workshops, training, and copious amounts of time spent trying to locate journal articles, printing, and the ubiquitous signs of beginning life someplace new. I'm so glad that I have my bank, social security number and phone number taken care of from when I lived in the UK before, because those are things I don't greatly enjoy taking care of.
On Thursday night we had a 'formal' dinner for all the postgraduates of my college. It was a very nice occasion, the guys mostly wore black tie which was quite hilarious. It's such a change, everything is so effortless, casual, laidback and so so understated in CPH, whereas here dressing for dinner, for example, is a must. Here, it's the exact opposite, but at least my college is the most laid back in that sense, they're quite accepting and easy-going in relative terms.
Today I'm off to buy a USB stick with 64GB memory (backups are a must), and go see a movie called Still the Enemy Within about the miners' strike up north where I am now. I'm pretty excited.
Oh oh oh, and I am now a member of the Ceili Band here at the University! I have a million tunes to learn but I'm pretty chuffed! Coming soon to a ceili dance near you, a flute no one can really hear!
Today is the 8th day I've been in Durham. It feels really strange to be writing that. It's been a very busy week; a lot of training sessions, inductions, coffee at the department (more on that later), and generally finding my feet, both in terms of who exactly I'm supposed to hang out with in my free time and, say, how the library works.
On Wednesday last we had our Matriculation ceremony. Basically, we went to the cathedral, speeches were given, and later we had to sign a book promising to be good students and not to plagiarise. Forever the cynic, I could probably have done without the procession and tradition of the matriculation ceremony, but it was nice to hear nice and encouraging things from those in charge. Usually you don't get the well wishes until graduation and they're kicking you out the door.
Everything here is done very officially, we all have a college, and do everything through the college. The fairly upper class formality of it all is a little awkward, but hey, it's their show, so they can do what they like. Since I'm being accommodated in my college for the time being (and it's pretty cosy, actually), I get all my meals provided, have access to a kitchen to make tea, and even have a library in my building. It's all very straightforward, and only a 10 minute walk from the university.
I'm feeling very lost without my bicycle, I haven't managed to find one here yet, and although it's just a short walk to everything, including the town, I'd much prefer to be cycling there than walking. Hopefully this week will bring good things. A meeting with my supervisors, a walking trip or some dance classes (depending on the weather), and basically all the time in the world to study, write, and eat. It's surreal.
I woke up on Monday morning and it was Autumn. Umbrellas and boots for everyone. Today it didn't rain, at least, but I could definitely start wearing my gloves, it's that nippy. It feels very strange being here, but judging by all the lost, lonely faces you see on a daily basis, in the cafeteria, on the paths to and from college, the only thing worse than being in a new place alone is being 18, living away from home for the first time, and being in a new place alone. So, there's that.
Here are a couple of snaps, I need to make it a habit:
From the Matriculation ceremony, with a ghost walking by. That poster on the wall was terrific.
The cosiest apartment I've ever seen on one of the oldest streets.
After a very long and hectic 2.5 weeks we're finally home. As soon as we got to the apartment I immediately unpacked everything, sorted dirty washing and put on a wash, put away everything else, went food shopping and made dinner. And I mean literally straight away. No time like the present to whip yourself back into shape. I really love home comforts. While holidays and meals out are amazing, there's nothing better to me than making my own bed with fresh sheets, filling the fridge with essentials, and getting back into home life. Domesticity is my everything.
Home
While Leo has gone out to a meeting (8pm on a Wednesday?! Oh, but it's for something special, trust me) I have snuggled up on the couch with a cup of breakfast tea (fiiiiinally!) some delicious 70% cocoa chocolate, and I am now going to binge-watch the Pretty Little Liars episodes I missed. Life is, in oh so many ways, absolutely wonderful. I have lit a candle and am enjoying that briefest of moments at the beginning of Autumn, when everything is so very slowly getting ready to change. It feels, to me, like the gods of weather are inhaling one huge breath before they blow a gust of wind and everything comes twirling to the ground. It's a great snapshot in time.
We're in the final weeks of summer over here. Flip flops every day is no longer a sufficient footwear choice, and we've had a few rainy/stormy days lately. Since I'm finished up at my job I'm supposed to be productive; preparing for my studies, 2 proposals, holidays, all that stuff.
But I've been fairly lazy, if I'm being honest. I've been pottering around at home cleaning, doing laundry, making essential oil with my new lemon balm plant (!), entertaining guests, reading my Paul Krugman book (the closest relation to 'work' right now) cooking, and generally doing things not taxing on the brain. I also spent a good few hours cleaning up the computer, and sorting all 19,000 pictures into appropriate folders. Good grief.
Today is Leaving Cert Results day for all the school leavers in Ireland, and I'm thanking my lucky stars those days are long behind me (7 years!) because boy, was that a stressful experience. All the anxiety, stress and strain of it, just to be told you either get into a course or don't. From there it all starts at a blank page again. Conjugating irregular verbs and solving for x aren't much use for most of us in the real world.
Leo has managed to get his hands on a sourdough starter from a colleague
in work, so later today we are making sourdough, blancmange, and some
tasty Autumnal dish from the Irish cook book I picked up at the library.
Our evenings are filled with swims in the sea, watching a Cold War documentary, and drinking a lot of tea, both breakfast and lemon balm. Life, it's pretty good.
Last week was pretty hectic, as hectic weeks go. I had 4 days on the go at my housekeeping job, which is fairly tiring by anyone's standards. I'd finish each day absolutely covered in sweat from head to toe (it is very humid in Copenhagen these days, time pressures of the job and the non-breathable uniform aside), cycle the 8km home and basically sit in a vegetative state until I recovered the use of my limbs. The week stretched out in front of me with promise, and would include 4 flights, a trip to Durham to meet those working on my study and my future colleagues, and a trip home to Ireland to see the family, all my friends, and enjoy being back in Meath and Dublin again.
On Tuesday, I hurried to get finished with my work, raced home to get my stuff ready, then headed on over to the lovely CPH Lufthavn for my first of two BA flights of the evening. I was fairly excited to fly with British Airways because they still give out free snacks, and there ain't no snack like a free snack. I had a pretty miserable ham and cheese sandwich on stodgy flatbread and coffee, along with a cookie I brought myself in case BA did not bring their snack A-game.
This shocking sight greeted me, but luckily the weather in Durham was more to my liking. Sunshine, a cool breeze, all the things you don't expect when visiting the north of England.
The 2 days in Durham were absolutely fantastic. My future colleagues are all incredibly focused, kind, and regard work-life balance as of the utmost importance, which is a huge deal for me (living in Denmark, you come to expect it, and having lived in London, know how sacred it really is).
There was much coffee drinking, meeting and greeting, and fascinating discussions about the work to come and work those in the department have been involved in. I'm really excited to sink my teeth into PhD life in a couple of months! In case you needed photographic proof that Durham is beautiful, I have included some snippets as evidence.
I stayed at the Premier Inn in town, they were so full of northern charm, caring and friendly, such a shock to the system. Danes are incredibly polite, but this is a whole other ballgame. After a few hours of walking around the town, and a surprisingly emotional visit to the Cathedral (along with a scone and a lot of whipped cream and jam), I headed to Newcastle airport to get on the world's tiniest plane home to my family. I had the good fortune to sit next to an academic from Cork who gave me so much good advice on my PhD. It pays to chat to those sitting next to you!
And then before I knew it I was home to this little fellah, buckets of tea and as many free range eggs as I could muster (and I mustered a great deal). I'll make another post about my trip to Ireland, because I think this is quite long enough! Suffice to say: British Airways food-pretty bad. Durham-beautiful. Shifting from Kroner to Pounds to Euro and back to Kroner- mildly confusing. Life-very excited.
A cafe we sometimes go to sells cheesecake that has won the accolade of 'Byens Bedste Kage' (best cake in town). Here's the article (in Danish). Last Friday before a Midsommer BBQ (of which Leo took no pictures), we stopped at this cafe for book reading and some coffee.
chronic Bitch Face
Now, we didn't actually have any of the cake, they were 50kr (nearly €7 a slice) and for something that is only going to give you a sugar-induced stomach ache, it didn't seem worth it. They were pretty to sit near, though.
Then we went and had many (many) rød pølse and got stomach aches anyway. It was fun. A Mexican guy made cocktails in an old olive jar! He brought everything, box of ice, 2 kinds of basic, bottle of liquor, sugar, it was so intense. It was a fun night.
You may think this is a silly post, but if you do never fear. It simply means you have transcended into Adulthood already, leaving the rest of us trailing behind. For that I commend you. For the rest of us, I want to talk about a major source of anxiety, namely, answering the phone and making phone calls.
In our age of mobile technology, we are contactably 24/7. That's a terrifying thought. At any given moment, one can be Tweeted at, Poked, emailed, or, heaven forbid, called. I don't know where my fear of telephone calls comes from, but all I know is it's taken several years to address and get to the stage where I will comfortably answer the phone from an unknown number, or just call to make an enquiry or booking rather than email. For a while during and after college I was doing jobs that required me to be on the phone constantly, either bombarding others with calls, or being on the receiving end of a never ending stream of the things. It was a very stressful period in my life, I was generally grumpy and angry most of the time, there was no work-life balance, and I'm incredibly glad it's a thing of the past. I'm sure it contributed to my Fear in some deep-rooted, fundamental way.
Every now and then my phone would ring when I was in Leo's company. It might be a number I know, or a number I suspect I recognise, or a random unknown. I would stare at it, heart rate rising, cortisol production going into utter overdrive, palms becoming clammy, and then turn the volume down so I could ignore it. Leo's incredulity at how a person could fear a phonecall turned into gentle goading, turned into a deafening realisation on my part. I formulated a theory.
The theory was this; my fear of just answering the damn phone was wrapped up in a pre-adult fear of accepting the grown-up world, in all it's credit card minimum payment, interview rejection, people being inherently self-serving, bin charges, phone call answering nonsense. And that is a world you are going to have to embrace, my friend, embrace and hold close to your bosom, if you ever want to leave mid-day computer games and spaghetti hoops on toast and crying over Brand New lyrics safely in the folder marked 'been and gone'.
Because we're all very happy, and rightly so, to let adolescence flow into young adulthood, flow into the post college years, never really adjusting our patterns, our habits, our view of the world, the only thing changing being that now you can legally drink and are supposed to be 'contributing to society' in more ways than the measly tax paid from your waitressing job.
It's so easy to opt out. We live in an age of absolute plenty. Sher, it would be the easiest thing in the world to live with our parents forever, going out, playing computer games (Sims, is it?), eating unreflexively and badly. But eventually it seems silly to not accept things more or less for how they are. And the simple fact is that, at the age of 25, if you refuse to use your phone for the very thing its name is derived from, you will eventually miss out on an opportunity that could be your big chance.
I slowly but surely goaded myself into beginning to make calls when it absolutely made no sense to substitute with an email. I would reward myself, a pastry after the call if you do it now, 10 minutes of internet time when you should be working if you don't send that email to the general email account. Answering the phone was probably harder, though. To get to the stage where I don't flinch when I see an unknown number has required untold amounts of stress-sweat and determination. I honest to God answered the phone to the tv license people the other day, and now I have to pay 2400kr. I'm not even miffed about it, it's just part of being a grown up. You use a service, eventually you have to pay for it. Bada bing.
In most ways, it's so simple. We are creatures of repeated habits and behaviours. Reward the good behaviour and discourage the bad, and eventually you will shine, my friend. It's just about perseverance and power of will. More than that, it represents something deeper that's at the heart of the psyche of my generation. We, who have had so much as a result of others, and don't want to risk losing that in case we don't make it to the same level off our own merits. So we stay in perma-adolescene where it is safer and we can use the family car whenever we're around.
Well, I say, be afraid no more, dear friend. Sure, we may not have the safety net of a properly regulated labour market, a crumbling welfare state and increased insecurity going forwards, but in 10-20 years time when we're expected to be in charge. And how can we do it if no one can reach us, because our phone is on silent?
In the immortal words of this kid from Donny Darko:
It's been a long and often frustrating road for me, career-wise. I finished up my education as the recession in Ireland was really getting into the swing of things, and with the labour market as precarious as it is in the UK getting a decent job in London seemed highly unlikely for someone with a skill set such as mine.
Leo and I made the decision to take a 'time out', he from a great job in a Swedish bank, and me from combining market research and waitressing in my 60 hour work week precarious hell. We made a break with our old lives, moved to Copenhagen,and began a carpentry and design course (here's the tag all of the carpentry posts are in).
Those 7 months were scary. I'll be perfectly honest. While it was idyllic living in a snowy Copenhagen and there were no money worries, as the course rolled around to a finish it became clear that life was changing. What to do now? Stay in Denmark? Learn Danish and try to get a job that isn't the dreaded Australian themed restaurant (the single worst place I've ever worked, for sure)? As the course came to a close I tried to make the best of things. Leo somehow managed to wrangle an amazing job, and started basically the Monday after we finished woodworking. He also found a nice apartment.
I, only the other hand, was in an inbetween place. I was 3/4 in Ireland, learning to drive (everyone should have a manual license, they're some serious skills worth having) and doing an internship which ended up being hugely important for the learning experience it afforded me. 1/4 of the time I was back in Copenhagen visiting Leo and wondering how it was all going to tie together.
Getting my license took longer than anticipated (I had no car to practise in and was a complete, how do you say, n00b, so it took 4/5 months to pass the test) but by February I was back full time in Copenhagen, doing the full-time Danish lesson thing and cycle upwards of 16km per day to and from the apartment Leo had purchased on the outskirts of the city. After a while I got myself another temporary job, earning good enough money but in no way on career path.
And then, out of the blue, came the most fantastic opportunity, so amazing I can barely contain my excitement when I think about what it means for the future. I received an offer for A FULLY FUNDED PHD!!!!!!! I still can't believe it. The project I will be working on is a dream, I will be examining austerity measures, the labour market, and the welfare state, I get to use qualitative research methods, and furthermore it means I'm one step closer to being able to move back to Ireland permanently, with the hopes of making a life for myself/us there.
So, as of October, I will be relocating to Durham in the north of England, which I could not be happier about. As common sense dictates, Leo will have to keep his job in Copenhagen for a time, but I'm secretly (or not so secretly) hoping he'll pack in the whole banking thing and do something more creative/meaningful. Life is short, too short for managing risk for a corporate giant. I am so glad to have been given this opportunity. It's been so hard being a young graduate in the economic climate we found ourselves in. I can't emphasise this enough. I've finally, 1 1/2 years after finishing my Masters, been given the opportunity to begin on a significant and meaningful career trajectory.
I'm not only glad for myself, and for all the hard work that I can do, but for how I might be able to help Irish society. Ireland is such a wonderful little country, but becomes less and less focused on equality as time goes on. I hope to work hard in the coming years to make it a more equal place.
For now, I'm counting down the days to handing in my notice at this housekeeping job, working really hard to improve my background knowledge on UK political and welfare contexts, and day dreaming about living in the north of England. Life sure is exciting!
I have just finished a run of 5 consecutive days at my housekeeping job. When I came home (after a disappointing failed trip to a hospital far away to give a blood sample, too late, too late) I put on a load of washing, cleaned up to make the place shiny and new after our Airbnbers (not that they made a mess, I'm just an absolutist when it comes to feeling comfortable in my own space), and now I'm sitting with a pint glass of water (hydration is the key to success) and sore limbs.
5 days is the typical stretch anyone works, but my job is incredibly physically demanding. Not only is it timed to the last second, but you're also required to lug heavy things around and generally maintain a series of unnatural and uncomfortable positions for hours at a time (making beds when you're tall, no mean feat). I have no qualms about doing this 'precarious' unskilled work, money is money, and I need a quick fix solution before Autumn comes and my first step on the career ladder finally begins (more on that soon!). But it's mentally taxing, stressful, and tiring.
I cannot really emphasis enough how exhausted my body is. I may be stronger and fitter now than I was 6 weeks ago, but doing this work for any extended amount of time is a middle ago of chronic back and limb pain waiting to happen. I made a throwaway comment to the woman that trained me in that this was my 5th day in a row (usually our days are spaced out over the week, only 3 days a week), and how tired I was. She proceeded to tell me that she once worked 18 DAYS IN A ROW and that if you stay in the job long enough you'll work the whole month without a break.
There's something incredibly sad, no, angering, about an industry that sets those conditions as something to be expected, and not, say, illegal. I'll be really glad to hand in my notice in a couple of months. I just feel bad for all the woman that work at that place (perpetually and patronisingly referred to as 'the girls' by the supervisors) and feel like they don't deserve any better.
I am having a truly Irish morning. I've just finished making the most amazing smelling soda bread from this recipe. The recipe called for some kneading, and let me tell you, kneading bread is a wonderful, stress-relieving exercise. I recommend it to all.
While in the mood of all things Irish, I've been listening to Luke Kelly. His voice will reduce you to wobbly child tears if you're not very careful.
Did you know, you cut open the top of the bread before baking so the fairies (that help the bread to rise, naturally) can escape and go help someone else? The more you know!
And finally, without getting too political, this beautiful Yeats poem.
Yeats is one of my favourite poets, as I'm sure is true of many. Just a few lines:
Too long a sacrifice Can make a stone of the heart. O when may it suffice? That is Heaven's part, our part To murmur name upon name, As a mother names her child When sleep at last has come On limbs that had run wild.
Are changed, changed utterly: A terrible beauty is born.
And just to lighten the tone, 12 buns a cooling, ready to be iced later (with tea as dye for the raspberry flavoured ones!).
Let us die young or let us live forever
We don't have the power, but we never say never
Sitting in the sandpit, life is a short trip
The music's for the sad man.
Leo and I had a funny moment this morning when I told him I'm in awe of this song, and he replied that he only discovered it yesterday and spent about an hour listening to it on repeat. Serendipity is so weird.
We then spent a long time trawling through Youtube finding good and not so good remixes of the song, and even a Jay-Z version where he completely misinterprets the song and turns it into an ego-fest. Charming.
What's YOUR favourite song about impending total nuclear annihilation at the hands of Superpowers, dear blog readers?
I am pretty excited, I have finally gotten myself a little job, which means I can continue with my life as normal, while working part-time and earning some money. It's only a start, but one I am very grateful for.
My final Airbnb guests for a couple of weeks left this morning, so I have been cleaning the whole apartment to make it like new, ironing shirts, and drinking coffee with cream and milk (half and half does not exist in Europe, although it should, so this is the best I can do).
I have to go do a Danish test later, so I have to spend the afternoon studying the past tense and vocabulary about liking/not liking various foods. Riveting.
Here's the cutest ad campaign to highlight pickpocketing in Copenhagen (don't really see the need for this, especially the Danish language version, I'm fairly sure only the most obvious of tourists get pick pocketed). And a tiny clothes peg!
I've been 'job seeking' in Denmark for a while now, and it's funny how, while being technically unemployed, you can still be overwhelmed with work, tasks, classes etc. I'm one that likes to keep busy, for sure, but seriously, I don't know where all the tasks keep coming from!
I'm using Airbnb a lot lately, and that is keeping me incredibly busy. All the back and forth emails, room preparation, talking to guests etc. takes a lot of time. It's very satisfying to have a small independent source of income, and I also LOVE being a great host, but man is it ever a job and a half.
On the plus side, my female guests just disposed of the coffee grounds down the toilet and polished up the pot like I do afterwards. Sometimes innate female capacities for knowing the considerate thing to do make me so happy.
What with interview preparation, job hunting, bed sheet and towel washing (it. is. constant) 8km cycles to and from town, distractingly sunny days and the endless Danish homework, I have been oh so very busy.
I'm also beginning a dance class tonight, and will hopefully be teaching Leo how to sing.
But, hey, this just came in the post, wrapped in a burlap sack:
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