tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89747666307134665822024-03-04T21:45:17.320-08:00Michelle's Journies Adventures of travel and Life.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-76283878448040034952012-06-24T22:08:00.004-07:002014-10-02T21:24:12.528-07:00TOUGH MUDDER<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been a blog slacker! But I have finally done something that feels worthy of blogging about and hopefully it will kick start my writing again.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The team - Ice Crew Bears (say it out loud, you know you want to)</td></tr>
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This weekend, I travelled to Whistler with 2 friends to compete in the Tough Mudder. Visit www.toughmudder.com and check out the video to get a taste of what this is all about.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunS6IxAAu7nHTmr_lxbIOEIi52wa4lIsQVmosQ5ubch1EJlGRLljUQLiqEDPCT7UU3cr8c84rlfc5XVrgmFGNNeACoqFsychFGdCxx9WFhD9pSH4mzf79fyQ9JN_gFZYkcliLNC4ckF2o/s1600/598427_10151053207592790_1390383839_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjunS6IxAAu7nHTmr_lxbIOEIi52wa4lIsQVmosQ5ubch1EJlGRLljUQLiqEDPCT7UU3cr8c84rlfc5XVrgmFGNNeACoqFsychFGdCxx9WFhD9pSH4mzf79fyQ9JN_gFZYkcliLNC4ckF2o/s320/598427_10151053207592790_1390383839_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> HoooooRahhhh!</td></tr>
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It is the most challenging event I have ever heard of, and definitely the most challenging thing I have ever taken part in. It was a 12 mile course, through Whistler mountain, with over 20 military-style obstacles. Luckily, I convinced my friend Veronique to join with me. She, in turn, convinced her boyfriend to join the team. He is military and has done many obstacle courses similar to this one. Except, they are usually about 7km long, with the obstacles 500-700 m apart. This one was 12 miles long with some obstacles more than a couple mile apart! Going from one obstacle to the next you are running up a gravel mountain rd, down a rock mountain road, down a 'trail' in the forest, through snow, or all of the above!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">By far the most painful obstacle - frozen lake!</td></tr>
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There were about 5 water stops along the course, which also offered bananas to eat. We were smart and took advantage of the first banana stop. Others wanted to keep going and regretting this later. At around mile 8 the sides of the trails started clogging up with participants who were in severe pain due to muscle cramps. One guy even had to lie on his back in a river of mud (approx. 1km trudging down river of mud), so that another guy could stretch out with calf cramp - he was going no where until the spasm passed!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Everest! I made it over!!</td></tr>
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Right at the start line, you and the other 700 participants who started in your 15 minute time slot (700 every 15 minutes until all 14000 participants of the day were on the course - that is NOT a typo!), were told that `This is NOT a race! This is a Challenge! These are your teammates and you need to help each other out!` This was the spirit of the entire event and it was amazing.Going over 8 and 12 foot walls, guys were there to give you a boost. Swimming across the frozen pond, guys were there to pull you out. Running up Everest - a huge quarter pipe - guys are hanging off the top ready to catch your hands as you sprint your fastest and leap for their outstretched arms. You continually hear war cries of HOORAAH! And you reply with one of your own. You cross the finish line and are brandished with the coveted orange head-band. You wear the head-band with pride and fellow mudders cheer as you walk by. Only about 75% of participants finish the course. I saw many wounded and exhausted people. I did every challenge. I am quite proud to have completed this event. It definitely inspires me to continue to push myself past my limits. This is what I work out for! This is why I want to be strong and fit and mentally strong as well.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I almost made it!! Damn wet hands..</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Death March - just a little hill</td></tr>
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Amazing event, amazing venue (my first time in Whistler), amazing experience!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADwLxaKJK32CIg_NXrFrBzVbBukRgPcexZ2tpBKzEjF98KBB5nRkpTDQ9_eO3zqyIgYDaspy8d-IIPa1wcBdmd4-sezFPAccssHT1hxXiotwFSS3KNqS6CHwQNdmHHpRvOKVxHJjV5u8-/s1600/224864_10151053257137790_1114644745_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADwLxaKJK32CIg_NXrFrBzVbBukRgPcexZ2tpBKzEjF98KBB5nRkpTDQ9_eO3zqyIgYDaspy8d-IIPa1wcBdmd4-sezFPAccssHT1hxXiotwFSS3KNqS6CHwQNdmHHpRvOKVxHJjV5u8-/s320/224864_10151053257137790_1114644745_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All for the glory (and free headband, tshirt & beer!)</td></tr>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-9853870861637077612011-10-09T09:49:00.001-07:002014-10-02T21:24:12.533-07:00A new (school) year<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">30 Sept.<br />
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<div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">I miss my blog! Though I do know that there are some lovely people out there who enjoyed reading my blog, I think that the blog is really just an outlet for people to feel important. Here I was, a self-proclaimed “small town girl” traipsing around London like I owned the place. Jetting off to countries all over Europe like it was no one's business. And at the end of each week I could sit down and write a blog all about ME. Because I was so important and interesting that of course people would want to read about me!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As grateful that I am for those who took the time to rad my stories, and for having the opportunity to do so many exciting things over the past year, I still think I can write something to feel important. Or even just to share the stories of teaching that so many of us teachers have – we just lack to time to share them! So, while this blog will no longer be about exciting worldly adventures, I hope that it will still bring a smile to some faces and brighten a day. I know that I always love to read something that can lighten my day.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Some examples of how kids say the darndest things:</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">A boy in my class was swinging between two desks in the aisle of my classroom. I asked him to stop and got that look that says: “You are such an adult. Just let us kids have some fun!” We all know the look, it's the same look we used to give our parents when they told us not to stand up on the swings. Seriously, what's going to happen?</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Well, then I explained to him the reason that I asked him to stop. At my last school a young boy in grade 1 was swinging between two desks when one of his hands slipped off and on his way down to the floor his head hit the side of the desk. Might not seem too bad, except that it was his ear the hit the edge and basically tore away from his head requiring several stitches.</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Now my students were looking at me with looks of disbelief mixed with slight disgust. At this point one of the girls close by me turned to her friend and said, “ I sure am glad I have ears.”</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">Oh, couldn't have said it better myself!</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">A couple days later we are doing learning some vocabulary words for our science unit on habitats and resources. This would seem like a simple task, except when you are teaching in French and this becomes more than an hour long lesson because not all of the words are in the junior french dictionary and this seemingly simple lesson slowly spirals toward disaster. Toward the end students are looking words up English and translating them into French. We are trying to come up with a definition for pollution and decided that it is something bad and unwanted in a habitat that doesn't belong there. To which one of my, let's say “challenging”, students says, “I am pollution.” I just can't help myself so I respond, “Why? You're bad and not wanted in this environment and don't belong here?” Sometimes they just make it too easy...</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">As long as I don't actually lose my mind reminding kids that we start writing at the pink line on our paper EVERY time, I will try to post more examples of why I love my job. The kids are pretty much the only thing that makes teaching worthwhile. We are currently in job action, and luckily are still directed to do anything that will benefit the kids. They are why we are here. But we do still need to be supported and to be compensated for the work that we do. Please support teachers, read up about what we are asking for and how our province compares with others in Canada, not to mention other countries around the world. After having been in the schools in India, I am not going to say that we are hard done by by any means. However, I do think that in a country full of prosperity, teachers are very undervalued. </div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</div><div class="western" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">That is my spiel, back to my Friday night of 'adult reading' before a weekend full of student writing, planning and class novel reading :)</div><br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-59983818939229899322011-08-26T08:41:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:24:12.525-07:00Pacific Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">It's funny how once you are back in your "home" time zone everything feels less exciting. I guess that is because I know that 98% of the people who have been faithfully following me this year can also step out their front doors and do all of the same things now.<br />
I have been back in the homeland for 2 weeks now and it feels great! Because I came home at almost exactly the same time of year as I left, it sometimes feels like I haven't gone at all. Then a small child walks by and I realize that the last time I saw that child it was a new born, or not born at all! Kids are definitely the give-away of time. I cannot believe how much my cousins have grown up this year.<br />
Otherwise, I have been doing all things West Coast. Beach fires (with hotdogs, s'mores and cruise ship watching, of course), backyard fires, trips to the lake, hiking the trails, biking the trails, playing beach volleyball... Taking full advantage and packing my days right full.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Monkido! Nice tiara Sophie :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Last weekend we also had Sophie's stagette. Her wedding is in France in a few weeks, so we took her to the Monkido course in Nanaimo and then had a BBQ at Rathtrevor beach. We had great weather for the obstacle course and lots of delicious food at the beach. Tis the season for weddings, I am heading to one tomorrow of a good friend from school. Then next week is back to work! I have all of my paperwork sorted for the new job, now need to find a place to live in Courtenay. Hopefully will get in to set up my new classroom this weekend or the beginning of next week.<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-77414214981523113572011-08-14T11:26:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:24:12.530-07:00SURPRISE :)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As someone who is notoriously bad at keeping secrets, I am quite proud of the surprise that I pulled off with the help of a few people. With only a few people in the know, I got on a plane Friday morning and arrived in Vancouver Friday afternoon. It was a long 9 hour flight, during which I watched 3.5 movies, but I had an emergency seat and was able to stretch out my legs at least.<br />
After an hour and a half wait in Vancouver I flew in to Campbell River, enjoying the view during the 35 minute flight and feeling quite excited to be home. Dad and Mlle were in on the plan and picked me, and my heavy baggage, up at the airport.<br />
That night I got to enjoy a welcome-home hotdog roast in the backyard with my grandparents. I went to bed around 10:30 and fell asleep about 1.5 minutes later! I was up just before 7:30 and 2 hours later, when my parents finally got up, we made some waffles!<br />
That evening I went over to Ashley and Gerry's house, where Gerry was very surprised to see me walk in the door. Little did he know, Ashley is quite the secret-keeper too. After a little reunion chat, it was time for the big surprise<br />
About a half hour earlier, Chris had been surprised by Mom and friends for a 50th birthday party. But no one, other than mom and Kevin, knew I was coming too. I called their cell and had them hold it up to the mic saying a special call was coming in. I wished him a happy birthday (from London) and got the crowd to join me in singing to him. As they were singing, I walked in the back door. As most people were looking at the birthday boy and the cell phone, no one noticed me until I was half way across the hall. Then some screams of surprise were shouted and Chris finally saw the real birthday surprise! After 50 weeks in the UK I was back on home soil!<br />
It was a lovely evening catching up with family and friends. Definitely the most difficult secret I've ever kept, but well worth the reaction. I knew it would be hard to keep a secret like that, but never thought about the lies that would have to be told to keep the secret too. It was far greater of a challenge than I thought it would be! Now I am back home and trying to fit in visits to catch up with everyone, and just enjoying being back on familiar ground around familiar faces. I know I have had a lot of blog followers, and I do promise to try and keep up some posts, though I am sure they won't be half as entertaining. Thank you to all those who followed my adventures abroad, and I am looking forward to catching up with everyone :)</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-57708207754335718792011-08-13T08:28:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:48:07.824-07:00We Do It Cos We Can!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103">London riots. Everyone has heard about them, and some people have even sent notes to see if I am okay. I figure it is time to share some thoughts on what has been happening.</div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><div closure_uid_500ww9="89">First, I am fine. My area was not hit by any serious damage or disruption, just a lot of precaution when things started to get really out of hand around day 3.</div></div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><div closure_uid_500ww9="118">To the police - kudos. The police have taken some serious flack from people in the media. I think that this is a serious mistake. In Canada, it feels like we quite regularly have inquiries into police force and families who speak out about loved ones who have been beaten or have died in custody. It is a very sad and touchy subject, but it rarely escalates into another police incident and definitely not to the scale that the London police had to deal with. Also, they are being accused of not being prepared to deal with the outbreak of unrest. To this I say; How could they??? Who, in their right mind, could have predicted that a small protest about one person shot by police would lead to a riot. And then that this riot would spread, not outwards, but to random pockets of violence and destruction scattered around London and surrounding cities? I honestly do not believe that this reaction could have been foreseen and props to the police for quickly mobilising the big guns to try and stomp out the flame. The police presence by the third day, when things were really out of hand, was immense.</div></div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><div closure_uid_500ww9="130">To the perpetrators of crime - shame on you! This was a total act of opportunism. The majority of the damage was senseless with no forethought and no agenda other than greed. These were not people out to prove a point other than how they can behave like cattle or like children following the crowd (which, sadly, some were).</div></div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><div closure_uid_500ww9="136">Finally, to the country - what is going on?? During my stay in London there have been several protests and demonstrations and I have yet to see one that goes smoothly or peacefully. This is a problem! I have heard of the issues of concern - tuition fees, etc - and the protesters generally have good points that they are trying to bring to the public eye, but I do not understand why they cannot do this peacefully. I realize that there are a lot of underlying issues with the riots - low wages, lack of opportunity for advancement, etc - but I think that the inability to hold a peaceful protest or demonstration is quite scary. Why do they think they will only be heard through violence and destruction?</div></div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><br />
</div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><div closure_uid_500ww9="143">I am sure there will be many theories put forward about who or what is to blame for the riots. I just hope that there is some learning that comes from this to address deeper issues in this society and, hopefully, save this sort of damage from occurring again. Also, that they can stop the culture of fear that has sprung up in the last week where everyone seems to be on edge just waiting for unrest to break out.</div></div><div closure_uid_i74e6c="103"><br />
</div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-32940549561716895752011-08-09T23:53:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:48:07.821-07:00My Welcome Home<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">I made it home from the airport Sunday afternoon and hung out at home that evening unpacking and doing laundry and all the other fun things that come upon return home from a trip. Monday morning I decided to let someone else deal with my grubby feet! I kicked back in the large massage chair and got myself a pedicure. Felt absolutely lovely. That evening I started to fee a little queasy. A little bloated. I figured it was my body's response to going from a diet of rice, meat and eggs back to fruit and yogurt and veg. By evening my stomach was really putting up a fight. I called it a night early in hopes of sleeping it off.<br />
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No. Such. Luck. I was up every 1-2 hours all night long. By morning, I was pretty certain that I was not going to survive (I tend to get a little dramatic when I am sick and sleep-deprived). I started googling my symptoms, like all good doctors do. Unfortunately, it was not too reassuring. Turns out food poisoning and malaria have almost identical symptoms. The main difference is that food poisoning has fever and chills, whereas malaria has cyclical fever and chills. Great, apparently I should be timing my fevers like a pregnant woman keeps track of her contractions.<br />
My flat mate finally get up around 11, and I begged her to go into Wimbledon to get me a thermometer (to see if I am going to die of malaria) and some orange juice (so hopefully I don't pass out from fluid loss).<br />
My fever was pretty much gone by the time the thermometer got back and told me that my temperature was exactly normal (impossible!). I stayed in bed and by evening was feeling much better. I decided to get some fresh air and some dinner. After throwing on some clothes, I headed out to Wimbledon - much to the viewing displeasure of the public. I got myself some soup and a nice bun for dinner and figured I was pretty much cured.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7PFGYCvPg3B0xfPK7tIRl7dZre-Jht7wZSpaJnCgu_Eph1ALaVtAJFUcDEpcKtQ8ZdOWKYGgTMlQUDCQ8JAJKAyQciE3bNSy69WrONa3OuXbqiJKAm1L8uIxySJipt_19xnSCdpbSLMk_/s1600/IMG_8090.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7PFGYCvPg3B0xfPK7tIRl7dZre-Jht7wZSpaJnCgu_Eph1ALaVtAJFUcDEpcKtQ8ZdOWKYGgTMlQUDCQ8JAJKAyQciE3bNSy69WrONa3OuXbqiJKAm1L8uIxySJipt_19xnSCdpbSLMk_/s320/IMG_8090.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Maggie by Big Ben</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Wrong. Again. Another night of running to the bathroom every 2 hours or so. I am loving Air India food right now - I curse you! If there is one good thing coming out of this, it is that I am at least getting some exercise going up and down the stairs all day and night.<br />
<br />
Wednesday morning it was my brother's birthday (happy birthday), but more concerning, I was supposed to meet a family friend in the city who had graciously offered to give me a tour of Parliament. I have been looking forward to this too long to miss it. I took a gamble and downed some Immodium and jumped on a train. The tour was absolutely amazing. Parliament and the House of Lords is stunning. I am still astounded every time I see art from the 1600s, I don't think I will ever get used to it. And I was completely speechless when I saw the library! Not to mention the archives of every issue of the <i>Times</i> since 1765!! Unbelievable. The best part, I seemed to have <i>finally</i> gotten rid of my bug.<br />
<br />
The rest of the week I took it easy in hopes of aiding my recovery. Sunday morning Andi and I went on a day tour to Windsor Castle and Oxford. As we waited on the bus, the driver started telling us about some riot going on in Tottemham. Sounded pretty crazy but we soon forgot about it. Until Monday night when we were watching the news and things seemed to be spiralling out of control. We watched as people started wreaking havoc randomly around the city. This was no longer a riot, it was mindless destruction. It looked like the maps of BC wildfires that we see each summer with flare ups across the province. Except that these were groups of people who were damaging property, setting fires, and looting stores. But, just like the wildfires, there seemed to be no connection and no reason for the choice of location. Wherever these hooligans could get to easily and do significant damage, they were heading.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChPKWaTTSdM0xnZqatiMyQu81pFsyIP_WckDff26iOB-DG-41dQO7gfb4W7sO_sBmmqZCY_rZSWuAnSM49UdX2T2yttbKNAXRKYjmgGvLs8CZjbCB9tjT00pe3AUIEJ_b1faoM-INR0rd/s1600/IMG_8093.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChPKWaTTSdM0xnZqatiMyQu81pFsyIP_WckDff26iOB-DG-41dQO7gfb4W7sO_sBmmqZCY_rZSWuAnSM49UdX2T2yttbKNAXRKYjmgGvLs8CZjbCB9tjT00pe3AUIEJ_b1faoM-INR0rd/s200/IMG_8093.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Windsor Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSAOXPsJwg28HIfRJ4sPAe18SEALdU7sWhWL8LF3f6yORn52uYm-mZEdWTQTqKj4AR4uCoYmIrCO58mFu1fk-mgpdilRxKITtkDqYiO1pdcqR1T1SbysTRZGgHJraMmO9JsCQVXt-C6ir/s1600/IMG_8095.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSAOXPsJwg28HIfRJ4sPAe18SEALdU7sWhWL8LF3f6yORn52uYm-mZEdWTQTqKj4AR4uCoYmIrCO58mFu1fk-mgpdilRxKITtkDqYiO1pdcqR1T1SbysTRZGgHJraMmO9JsCQVXt-C6ir/s200/IMG_8095.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8hPslG1x48vrKWYA4HC9VCZd67m44LGErYUcOwZx9z0vHt5sMWX1-UFZ8XGqAsUEFwO2OYYyMNuuw3KJWQpfeqk3FWmc10dyU7wRzwfifefVk71ld7KdcuX2yzRlAAC99RSTVdsGReGS/s1600/IMG_8101.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM8hPslG1x48vrKWYA4HC9VCZd67m44LGErYUcOwZx9z0vHt5sMWX1-UFZ8XGqAsUEFwO2OYYyMNuuw3KJWQpfeqk3FWmc10dyU7wRzwfifefVk71ld7KdcuX2yzRlAAC99RSTVdsGReGS/s200/IMG_8101.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZZOZS95k0453fdHvHzUmPjujoK3wq2d9hyxpB_NW_PXs_NN44n2g50SYEq15vJJj71rnMoLGvHyr6U2_2TQq3ZDoYl85yYNHopwP9v9JamRqxjAvS2GOvDAD90tsuk4ZxUkgPWG5oa3I/s1600/IMG_8112.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZZOZS95k0453fdHvHzUmPjujoK3wq2d9hyxpB_NW_PXs_NN44n2g50SYEq15vJJj71rnMoLGvHyr6U2_2TQq3ZDoYl85yYNHopwP9v9JamRqxjAvS2GOvDAD90tsuk4ZxUkgPWG5oa3I/s200/IMG_8112.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harry Potter dining Hall</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm8kOM2_1JOPCgsYeugoKC6NuBYrnBaVVu3C2pF5My3bjxYJ8Rj55zMjYPE6jtX986HQnT8xZOqG4yEWWBmuGlUU65xD8QqEblcWYF82-i_CyGBrhqDs2gB_1QjnFOCpErCPv7hJu4VUG9/s1600/IMG_8113.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm8kOM2_1JOPCgsYeugoKC6NuBYrnBaVVu3C2pF5My3bjxYJ8Rj55zMjYPE6jtX986HQnT8xZOqG4yEWWBmuGlUU65xD8QqEblcWYF82-i_CyGBrhqDs2gB_1QjnFOCpErCPv7hJu4VUG9/s320/IMG_8113.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christ Church College, Oxford</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdONP44XpNRjtQUKD84yiSrMU4oqjZT9Bc3FhVENtB_Yl_UcDfiQfN7WcnSIp1FVIHquX9RHDE0ceyImCvGTVJSyO4CILNuM8PDngI4aLhsTdbWg5Rl_aRWxbpLahAOz_Dp9iZA_Pprb9b/s1600/IMG_8104.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdONP44XpNRjtQUKD84yiSrMU4oqjZT9Bc3FhVENtB_Yl_UcDfiQfN7WcnSIp1FVIHquX9RHDE0ceyImCvGTVJSyO4CILNuM8PDngI4aLhsTdbWg5Rl_aRWxbpLahAOz_Dp9iZA_Pprb9b/s200/IMG_8104.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tea for Two!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Tuesday things seemed to have calmed down a bit. I went to get my hair done then met Andi at the Victoria and Albert Museum. We got to Wimbledon around 5:00 and immediately noticed the police presence. Then I saw that my favorite wedding dress store had completely emptied it's window display and all other goods were hidden out of sight. We then started noticing that other stores were already closed down and some were even boarded up. Then we saw a sign saying "Due to local disturbances, we have closed early". Wimbledon was on lock down.<br />
Luckily, we found a sushi restaurant that was still open, then we made our way home to lock up early. Doesn't seem like anything went down last night, just a lot of precaution, but I sure hope that the 16 000 police get this under control soon.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdONP44XpNRjtQUKD84yiSrMU4oqjZT9Bc3FhVENtB_Yl_UcDfiQfN7WcnSIp1FVIHquX9RHDE0ceyImCvGTVJSyO4CILNuM8PDngI4aLhsTdbWg5Rl_aRWxbpLahAOz_Dp9iZA_Pprb9b/s1600/IMG_8104.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRA0se0qGoDdLxefjnAPB5K98KKvuvz5Lt-zmRLSW18aLHzJSLCRjHtdSWhNLE-An_SPuRfJnHbny1KAoFKFWm-n1K9fwaTbdf3rmxEyac8u19ez3ZgV5RBU1iqNKb4l9X6f4L2isLXev/s1600/IMG_8118.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyRA0se0qGoDdLxefjnAPB5K98KKvuvz5Lt-zmRLSW18aLHzJSLCRjHtdSWhNLE-An_SPuRfJnHbny1KAoFKFWm-n1K9fwaTbdf3rmxEyac8u19ez3ZgV5RBU1iqNKb4l9X6f4L2isLXev/s320/IMG_8118.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good ol Sunday Roast</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg982Y177yBLCwwmZVqmioUUZIVkmx19ZuE7CS1PqAOk_fLOiEq0L15kPD82P_StpcRaKIoFeCvBX92qr5u99wT8wyR5DPY8vvZRVTiQV5KWHt8mFgHvQ8P_Yzu4HOh89NjjBl6BEfCLBTy/s1600/IMG_8123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg982Y177yBLCwwmZVqmioUUZIVkmx19ZuE7CS1PqAOk_fLOiEq0L15kPD82P_StpcRaKIoFeCvBX92qr5u99wT8wyR5DPY8vvZRVTiQV5KWHt8mFgHvQ8P_Yzu4HOh89NjjBl6BEfCLBTy/s200/IMG_8123.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At V&A Museum - new hair cut</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8x-0GTuHMxmJTWyPCFYfHNTLrMv6gz7z7Ei4wW3RS6lGDdLbsrDPVPIDIygXnshWoCqapFMq6KpQ6X9y_KYraSFTHQLwzmLBb67Yd41J3yLbljm3l5yrDRorW6jwLWjjVxIp5SgUPohw/s1600/IMG_8124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI8x-0GTuHMxmJTWyPCFYfHNTLrMv6gz7z7Ei4wW3RS6lGDdLbsrDPVPIDIygXnshWoCqapFMq6KpQ6X9y_KYraSFTHQLwzmLBb67Yd41J3yLbljm3l5yrDRorW6jwLWjjVxIp5SgUPohw/s320/IMG_8124.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wimbledon on lock down</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-18157806637274380392011-08-05T13:15:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:48:07.816-07:00India: Finale<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAG2FkLpv3xBozg_ilZ_sDwI3pLmlxdIjr91p7pMp68vm6SaW6z6MCbV4PvDqKTBg9iDt3k6CoW2KdgZnMcRyzbXrBCv46sUq9v7VBqYljn0LKpJMKQncla7iKo4hEEGx9B4oVW0IadCCY/s1600/IMG_7940.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAG2FkLpv3xBozg_ilZ_sDwI3pLmlxdIjr91p7pMp68vm6SaW6z6MCbV4PvDqKTBg9iDt3k6CoW2KdgZnMcRyzbXrBCv46sUq9v7VBqYljn0LKpJMKQncla7iKo4hEEGx9B4oVW0IadCCY/s200/IMG_7940.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Frozen water bottle on swollen feet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Friday was our final day at Ranipathra. Woke up VERY warm as the fans were not on for most of the night. We got dressed in our sarees and other clothing we had bought for the final session with our mentees. Teachers from all 3 schools were coming to Ranipathra for a final "awards ceremony" and session making resources for their classrooms. We also gave our hosts gifts and received some in return - steel lunch container and 2 steel plates. These are what they use everyday, but will make good camping dishes for me :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJWbkugSi1AaWcn5JER3n5bIiUJCFJffg7Hhh2XUx87AqibFuqUgJK6OwnIqPFG_QJexQq0raciLtxCI3B2cOe1m6gLy6bnnsRkcSHIFKE1AyL3PawOqBnadfLRWG2BJZN6myegXPtJZK/s1600/IMG_7936.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJWbkugSi1AaWcn5JER3n5bIiUJCFJffg7Hhh2XUx87AqibFuqUgJK6OwnIqPFG_QJexQq0raciLtxCI3B2cOe1m6gLy6bnnsRkcSHIFKE1AyL3PawOqBnadfLRWG2BJZN6myegXPtJZK/s200/IMG_7936.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gift packs for the teachers</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfs_4E5F0zXroZOfuqWeRGyXMIbTXdEYUZVMDWA3NgEKgD5eGCU5zkMNuIQpvWi2086ZsEICaAaS5m690AuIVNGQV7s881KU3KiOP0PS1bBTqZXHNRa7yP2d9-e4UBei9pnr-stF8Ja2_T/s1600/IMG_8065.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfs_4E5F0zXroZOfuqWeRGyXMIbTXdEYUZVMDWA3NgEKgD5eGCU5zkMNuIQpvWi2086ZsEICaAaS5m690AuIVNGQV7s881KU3KiOP0PS1bBTqZXHNRa7yP2d9-e4UBei9pnr-stF8Ja2_T/s200/IMG_8065.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mentor group</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWcTb_wyugS4aPeLyygs7BJSvWmlzhgea-x4bFMfgWyJWozTaG4j34-VHI_jB478LBUXMBSgsDE_E37-4A3AGXVNygYLNmTJ31qCWo3bf3KLCLKvowfmevQDg2M-gvurbEAJEvoys9Yf6/s1600/IMG_8071.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWcTb_wyugS4aPeLyygs7BJSvWmlzhgea-x4bFMfgWyJWozTaG4j34-VHI_jB478LBUXMBSgsDE_E37-4A3AGXVNygYLNmTJ31qCWo3bf3KLCLKvowfmevQDg2M-gvurbEAJEvoys9Yf6/s320/IMG_8071.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dance Party</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After lunch we started gathering our things together and taking our final showers before the 12 hour train ride back to Kolkata. Back at the train station was the same overwhelming scene of poverty - old women begging, a woman with a toddler who had a bandaged eye and an infant who did not look healthy (she had one tomato that they were all sharing), dogs wandering along the platforms and tracks. Heartbreaking. The group got split up because half were heading travelling elsewhere and were taking a different train to avoid backtracking. So it was me, Connie and Tamara, escorted by Diana, Pastor Daniel and Basant.<br />
We all chatted for awhile and shared some snacks, then settled in to our bunks to read for a bit before getting some sleep. This time I was in a top bunk along the aisle. I slept great! With the curtain shutting me off in my own bunk, it was a lot cozier than the 4-bunk cubby, so I did not get too cold from the air con. My earplugs also helped, as when I woke up just after 6am I took them out and there was a symphony of snoring in our car! Others complained that they didn't sleep well because of it. I got up to use the washroom, there is a choice between 'Western' or 'Indian'. Western has a toilet, Indian has two raised foot pads and a hole! But both lead to the same place - the tracks whizzing past underneath.<br />
When I had finished brushing my teeth and waking up, Tamara was also up so we sat in her cubby - the others that had been in with her had gotten off at an earlier stop. It was nice to sit and watch the countryside going by in the morning. At one station we saw a man walking along the platform pulling along two monkeys tied on strings.<br />
Slowly the others woke up and joined us as we headed towards our destination, passing more towns and even crossing the Ganges.<br />
Once we reached Kolkata, we headed to a hotel to drop off our bags, then went for breaky at a place Pastor Daniel frequents often and is always full of Westerners. Then we went to the Mother Teresa House. It was amazing reading about her life. I am planning on reading some more about her life; she was a very selfless woman.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gQ8r15JYlnmau3_O9AbyjMetM2kY3vsq2nZMCFbxB4W720vGbQX75acDCn29x5gyOdVS-07nwohKEcWd7PwEv73ju0eW3VZ3YzQcY-_UyCsN-oZmc7H8ujd9wSJN8ZcV1hd0Lx7rChzv/s1600/IMG_8082.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9gQ8r15JYlnmau3_O9AbyjMetM2kY3vsq2nZMCFbxB4W720vGbQX75acDCn29x5gyOdVS-07nwohKEcWd7PwEv73ju0eW3VZ3YzQcY-_UyCsN-oZmc7H8ujd9wSJN8ZcV1hd0Lx7rChzv/s320/IMG_8082.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Mother Teresa: IN"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7CkrHqPVO6A_vx6SQkVRuvpMBN8fmRXSyJGV3wvmXTllZVeiQtzn2ukgIDwuPV2pU0qRw-7oPRwAum8XVdW9wjhafcmXhlcTW7OfREi4xc_ioCgoaT_DmRzydH2HbvnlmoL2RXM53bdP/s1600/IMG_8077.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja7CkrHqPVO6A_vx6SQkVRuvpMBN8fmRXSyJGV3wvmXTllZVeiQtzn2ukgIDwuPV2pU0qRw-7oPRwAum8XVdW9wjhafcmXhlcTW7OfREi4xc_ioCgoaT_DmRzydH2HbvnlmoL2RXM53bdP/s320/IMG_8077.JPG" width="320" /></a> <br />
We then went to check out the market. There were endless shops selling everything imaginable at ridiculously low prices. Many of the shop keepers speak English and all want to show you to their shop "just this way, I show you". As we wandered, we found ourselves in the food section with spices and produce, then all of the sudden we were in the meat section. Huge netted baskets full of live chickens, cats running around under the tables, stalls full of hanging meat, and the STENCH. We did not last long before we retraced our steps back to more breathable air.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtneGZwZPRz2ah1T25iycL0xq6az_fwytZ6LAkf5Rz2sFyS6Lb4mr0nVZ6nWrxy4oJWVcjbSNDLdPuOpWx3J7KlWN3qx3KXJEJmDhm67bnXgsh6nBIgKHw7WpRhMJIRmT2IQO2L-NKhmZa/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtneGZwZPRz2ah1T25iycL0xq6az_fwytZ6LAkf5Rz2sFyS6Lb4mr0nVZ6nWrxy4oJWVcjbSNDLdPuOpWx3J7KlWN3qx3KXJEJmDhm67bnXgsh6nBIgKHw7WpRhMJIRmT2IQO2L-NKhmZa/s320/IMG_8083.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chicken anyone?</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
After getting a few things, we had lunch, went back to the hotel to shower, then caught a taxi to the airport. The final leg of the journey home. For me it was an especially long leg. I had a 2 hour flight from Kolkata to Dehli. I arrived just before 11pm then had an 8 hour lay over - during which I got no sleep at all - and then continued on to London at 6:30am on a 9 hour flight. At Dehli security, the immigration guy looked at my form and told me I had to fill out the address of the hotel where I stayed the night before.<br />
Me: I was on an overnight train.<br />
Him: Address of hotel<br />
Me: But I wasn't at a hotel, I was on a train.<br />
Him: You need to fill out.<br />
I write: TRAIN<br />
Him: Wha? HAHAHAHA (Holds it up to other official across from him) She write train! haha, ok where was train from? Write that.<br />
I tried to tell him...<br />
<br />
I got in to London around lunch time, and kept myself awake that night until I could not physically keep my eyes open any longer, then slept a glorious 11 hours.<br />
The following day I just wandered around Wimbledon, got a pedicure in a massage chair, then started feeling a little queasy. Was up all night with what I presume was food poisoning. The next day was pretty sure I was dying of malaria (conveniently shares many symptoms with food poisoning). I had my flatmate run out and buy me a thermometer, and when I was satisfied I was not going to die, tried to get some rest. Thought I was feeling better that evening, but spent another night getting up every 1-2 hours.. not fun! But at least my stomach held out until I was home, I am thankful for that.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Overall it was an unforgettable trip. I don't want to sound corny and say that it was life-changing, but it definitely gives you a new perspective on life and the way we live. We always say that we are blessed and that we take so much for granted, but it is not until you see such overwhelming poverty and people living with absolutely nothing at all that it really sinks in how much we have. It hit me when I started to think that many of the people I saw probably only had the money that was in their pockets - and I am sure many had<br />
empty pockets. It makes you want to slow down and really take some time to appreciate every meal that you eat, and every time you sit down with friends and family and share time together. I hope that I never forget the things that I saw in India, and that I can always remember to take a minute to stop and just be thankful.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIbb9Yz9TR20T1IIojBXVx3d9QUmTn3WOQUOsNqb1CIL2h-BDf2l8XvVZicNrEh25RMVIlTAY2shKc6WWGxgKI9kmKGMqrvY4NI80VzeW-IOAiXJtRDx578K5Cedfl-HuKL-54V4cXSdn/s1600/IMG_8084.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIbb9Yz9TR20T1IIojBXVx3d9QUmTn3WOQUOsNqb1CIL2h-BDf2l8XvVZicNrEh25RMVIlTAY2shKc6WWGxgKI9kmKGMqrvY4NI80VzeW-IOAiXJtRDx578K5Cedfl-HuKL-54V4cXSdn/s320/IMG_8084.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kolkata New Market</td></tr>
</tbody> </table><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><b>A taste of driving in India</b>: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0ac7YCGgSE" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=s0ac7YCGgSE</a> </div><div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Watch it once for the traffic and again for everything passed on the side of the road.</div><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Now watch it and keep in mind that it is over 30 degrees and humid and that the air is thick with overwhelming smells. THEN you will begin to picture India.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtneGZwZPRz2ah1T25iycL0xq6az_fwytZ6LAkf5Rz2sFyS6Lb4mr0nVZ6nWrxy4oJWVcjbSNDLdPuOpWx3J7KlWN3qx3KXJEJmDhm67bnXgsh6nBIgKHw7WpRhMJIRmT2IQO2L-NKhmZa/s1600/IMG_8083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-24831531799943146702011-08-03T14:18:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:48:07.819-07:00India: Wed/Thurs<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBIe6Xw4ZvqR9qznqhtVbIQi8GtkwjnjXElDRPpjYn6xxzsaORCuMTr33_1aI0-ic1XcyInvGF0c61H-25UPIAarNUc_l-ZOfRkq1RGa8Hf-a_5byvWbVDQutaKY7M2ZKhUnCPfLwFpJV/s1600/IMG_7918.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFBIe6Xw4ZvqR9qznqhtVbIQi8GtkwjnjXElDRPpjYn6xxzsaORCuMTr33_1aI0-ic1XcyInvGF0c61H-25UPIAarNUc_l-ZOfRkq1RGa8Hf-a_5byvWbVDQutaKY7M2ZKhUnCPfLwFpJV/s320/IMG_7918.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purnea School gate</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6AT_L6FEs89CYTb4sGd-Rl1YfTWwduFYLL2NRtqIoKxFbVpwgSJ2FwvGCYFC8L6CsBkxpBV8uJmkovPUSh72dlA5kzgP-8CtnIohk7nccnuW_3Rzw2N4SX0jkNBxTDr7sWztS0tdqTeUV/s1600/IMG_7990.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6AT_L6FEs89CYTb4sGd-Rl1YfTWwduFYLL2NRtqIoKxFbVpwgSJ2FwvGCYFC8L6CsBkxpBV8uJmkovPUSh72dlA5kzgP-8CtnIohk7nccnuW_3Rzw2N4SX0jkNBxTDr7sWztS0tdqTeUV/s200/IMG_7990.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doing drama (they are trees)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaX0oIiA-Tdqp__TvQ8rPQe4clVTKlQkCKqwc8jBdYKj4kQbuiQ88yRm12Dsv9rWjBUipBC-IFI1ncnvtYrnimPTa0CSzv0IfawyVNu6_yYJI893c5DSf3-htn210zDYlikYc5eWRLahVS/s1600/IMG_7923.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaX0oIiA-Tdqp__TvQ8rPQe4clVTKlQkCKqwc8jBdYKj4kQbuiQ88yRm12Dsv9rWjBUipBC-IFI1ncnvtYrnimPTa0CSzv0IfawyVNu6_yYJI893c5DSf3-htn210zDYlikYc5eWRLahVS/s200/IMG_7923.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaX0oIiA-Tdqp__TvQ8rPQe4clVTKlQkCKqwc8jBdYKj4kQbuiQ88yRm12Dsv9rWjBUipBC-IFI1ncnvtYrnimPTa0CSzv0IfawyVNu6_yYJI893c5DSf3-htn210zDYlikYc5eWRLahVS/s1600/IMG_7923.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Two more days of observations. It brought a smile to my face and almost a couple tears to my eyes seeing the teachers trying out new strategies. Even more so seeing the students getting really excited. I saw a couple of teachers try games and drama activities that we had done in my session. The kids were ecstatic to be doing these sorts of things in class, it was amazing to witness. It was like watching a total breakthrough for students and teachers that they can have fun with learning.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzs-l5qXwlDb2yG0lKi9Q3ft1FkywrOBjx8Cgx-weAxNuFFIzU43oxi2M_AOjomgobd193sfBrl_qEQBy-4uEVksXwRh1eqVx9iTep0HWEDAt96UUsGOOlnjcIIj288eXhZ2W4wetcSNt/s1600/IMG_8004.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFzs-l5qXwlDb2yG0lKi9Q3ft1FkywrOBjx8Cgx-weAxNuFFIzU43oxi2M_AOjomgobd193sfBrl_qEQBy-4uEVksXwRh1eqVx9iTep0HWEDAt96UUsGOOlnjcIIj288eXhZ2W4wetcSNt/s200/IMG_8004.JPG" width="200" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt5YJMxOgycS_z8MShu_0Haf8VOs4NJrqlinm7Vbzry6FJ_lqIroeaREAVeVsJwmj464oAvsB9nS3XNQaWPLq72h1IPylyD4hyzVuti84YbCSyBfvxm0j395twW0-arLft8A2n6Sus6jsR/s1600/IMG_8010.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt5YJMxOgycS_z8MShu_0Haf8VOs4NJrqlinm7Vbzry6FJ_lqIroeaREAVeVsJwmj464oAvsB9nS3XNQaWPLq72h1IPylyD4hyzVuti84YbCSyBfvxm0j395twW0-arLft8A2n6Sus6jsR/s200/IMG_8010.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group work!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sticker rewards :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXClwlHP6R2UxuiqUy-Ix4ndivQxy7IZDB-UJmSbsNH5XKj9Jgywrj9dTClB0AdqwqHp96HfQL6RkWh-lUqifvHeifVM_E360r62gPHnnLbYFDz7hnR7agtStivMwogrblFZcHmdbK-yF/s1600/IMG_8023.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLXClwlHP6R2UxuiqUy-Ix4ndivQxy7IZDB-UJmSbsNH5XKj9Jgywrj9dTClB0AdqwqHp96HfQL6RkWh-lUqifvHeifVM_E360r62gPHnnLbYFDz7hnR7agtStivMwogrblFZcHmdbK-yF/s320/IMG_8023.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Washing up lunch dishes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I also made a breakthrough on the shower/swollen feet situation. In the house there are two bathrooms we can use. Both have the option of bucket shower (put water in large bucket and use smaller scooper to pour water on yourself) and one also has a working shower hear. My room was upstairs and the shower was upstairs so I mostly used this one. My (ingenious) idea was to fill the larger bucket with some water and stand in it while taking my shower. This allowed my foot to be actually submersed in cold water, and thus helping slightly with the swollen situation, but mostly just felt heavenly. I came up with this idea after showering earlier and lifting up my leg to scrub my foot only to discover it was actually hot to the touch despite having been in a cold shower for a good 5 minutes. Although, as mentioned before, all are only temporary remedies, as sweating commences virtually the second the shower is turned off.<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBvsfOz0Vk99Y2FxnRSqZF_fhAEncRNHTwaY_g2vaPDJHCKFGYHMOtIR2GH61eFfWhzQ1TtnuMHlm7CRJG21iWfChzS9wyYE7TsMmaLiZW83zAxMC1oxJAr6AsBocjH_E0uzOh6dBJmhG/s1600/IMG_8044.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJBvsfOz0Vk99Y2FxnRSqZF_fhAEncRNHTwaY_g2vaPDJHCKFGYHMOtIR2GH61eFfWhzQ1TtnuMHlm7CRJG21iWfChzS9wyYE7TsMmaLiZW83zAxMC1oxJAr6AsBocjH_E0uzOh6dBJmhG/s320/IMG_8044.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Indian roadblock</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Thursday night we took our hosts, and others who had helped us out a lot during the week, out for dinner. We went to a hotel in the city and it had air conditioning! BLISS!! I travelled there in an 'auto-rickshaw'. Driving is always an experience, this even more so. The experience started as soon as the driver got out and walked behind us so that he could pull the lawn-mower-like cord to get us going! On the way home, us white folk had to all ride in the jeep for security reasons. We started out the journey with a game of I Spy. But as it got darker, we turned to a much more relevant, and entertaining, game of I Smell. Oh, the smells of India are truly indescribable.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD601vR-qnUSCT2JkWtYHjp5wT5D7UrkU86VtiJiNomtv92aDncMX4xo7i4at2bAMND7CUKhnuudMpiFvJPCr3w1ku2yAeWv2mjzS4lUR90lePeSRxqSuFVh_LC1tZQDpLkgnQj9Ec0Py_/s1600/IMG_8048.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD601vR-qnUSCT2JkWtYHjp5wT5D7UrkU86VtiJiNomtv92aDncMX4xo7i4at2bAMND7CUKhnuudMpiFvJPCr3w1ku2yAeWv2mjzS4lUR90lePeSRxqSuFVh_LC1tZQDpLkgnQj9Ec0Py_/s200/IMG_8048.JPG" width="200" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBCFlBlqZo9tg2asxXAIHXbdaQIQEwongpCeo42ZmRWGlnbuDnTMc92kWM7Xeb1qkdE5s2agiPUKrpSmDH-MM9cV2bXIvp3PMs5zSXc8oXhE-jpOizdy2l6Pv0oOgYSDoKF2BUjOWLlZT/s1600/IMG_8058.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBCFlBlqZo9tg2asxXAIHXbdaQIQEwongpCeo42ZmRWGlnbuDnTMc92kWM7Xeb1qkdE5s2agiPUKrpSmDH-MM9cV2bXIvp3PMs5zSXc8oXhE-jpOizdy2l6Pv0oOgYSDoKF2BUjOWLlZT/s200/IMG_8058.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perfect fit</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bonus: we all survived</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
A couple of examples of cultural differences:<br />
1. On our drive home from one of the schools we were observing at there was a sudden downpour of rain. To our surprise not everyone took cover. Children began running into the street and stripping naked so that they could shower in the rain.<br />
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2. One teacher decided he was going to ask more questions to his students to get them more involved in the lesson. His lesson was on adjectives and started out innocently with nice as a quality adjective, and tall, then it turned to this.<br />
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Teacher: Stand up<br />
Girl stands<br />
Teacher: I am a fat girl. What kind of adjective?<br />
Girl: Quality adjective.<br />
Teacher: Yes, quality adjective, fat. Because it describes you. Good. Sit down.<br />
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... Not exactly what we had in mind.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9Az0_4I6A7V3Ow1hHqlHzvnECKZvLFqKWPBrY60Mzl4bXopgRiG8vl2YjmtqepElbcCBfSQAtA1sZPqWG79I9tbf1i-rtKPBW7q3FsxNftxww-30RZpOG0eqFX78R_7oGqe6Tvf9527N/s1600/IMG_8061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge9Az0_4I6A7V3Ow1hHqlHzvnECKZvLFqKWPBrY60Mzl4bXopgRiG8vl2YjmtqepElbcCBfSQAtA1sZPqWG79I9tbf1i-rtKPBW7q3FsxNftxww-30RZpOG0eqFX78R_7oGqe6Tvf9527N/s320/IMG_8061.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pretty mosqui net - I'd rather be closer to the fan!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>By now I had given up on the whole mosquito net thing in order to sleep closer to the fan. The night after the rain it had cooled off and the fan was on almost all night. I actually felt for the tiny cotton sheet to put over my shoulders in the morning. Again - Bliss!<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-74343307525263015482011-08-02T03:17:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:48:07.826-07:00India: Mon / Tues<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Woke up sweating - theme of the week. The school has 'government power' which is very unreliable, so they also have a generator. But with temperatures in the mid 30s, only going down to low 30s/ high 20s at night, the generator needs to be switched off regularly to cool. Which means, no fans during the night. I got out of bed and had a shower. Felt good to cool off, but was sweating again as soon as the water turned off. The only way to describe it is to say that it feels like you are standing in a steamy sauna, all day long.<br />
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Half of us went to Purnea City school this morning to do our observations. We are working with 3 schools that are all part of Harvest Mission. The drive was rather interesting as we went through countryside full of village type houses, and also through a small city. Some pretty unreal sights. At one point we had to drive down along an overpass and it was a whole community under there. People has staked out their spots next to different support beams. Some had vanity tables and chairs, some had card tables, other had fenced off their areas and had livestock. A whole other world to what I am used to.<br />
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We arrived just as they were all lining up outside for their morning assembly. So adorable listening to them say their morning prayer while a cow munches on grass in the background. We met the teachers we would be mentoring at this school and observed some lessons. It was immediately obvious that they needed some training on how to deliver lessons to children. While some of the teachers are from the area, most are educated and from other parts of India, mainly southern states. But, of those who are educated, they are not trained teachers. They are people who got degrees, then had a calling from god to help so have travelled to this region to do their duty to god. It is very humbling to hear what they have given up to help in one of the poorest regions of India.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBexfhRNfVIfPRqhg1kfNhcTBCFHzG3k9HM525mvmR-qIaNprz5MGoSNKTa6Qq6l1r5NRoutG_TyjwRjkdbaxdRTJ1XR_W5N2837sAcRkGIBhHc-peA_DcyOoyWvAAct4hAmageOXk_bRY/s1600/IMG_7829.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBexfhRNfVIfPRqhg1kfNhcTBCFHzG3k9HM525mvmR-qIaNprz5MGoSNKTa6Qq6l1r5NRoutG_TyjwRjkdbaxdRTJ1XR_W5N2837sAcRkGIBhHc-peA_DcyOoyWvAAct4hAmageOXk_bRY/s200/IMG_7829.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Morning Assembly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKq4DaQ6qf7ATPM6RxD5irA9NbL2QdBwIdNtOfGWjHEjdeETv3jeEG4_wkoxUvtFqAFVfTWoqVknzZpNDa3xws96TzUKi_iCTShM2804oEEi6T6LrUmxkbjh6Hk1PCFB9cy3TPpu0EKGY/s1600/IMG_7833.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKq4DaQ6qf7ATPM6RxD5irA9NbL2QdBwIdNtOfGWjHEjdeETv3jeEG4_wkoxUvtFqAFVfTWoqVknzZpNDa3xws96TzUKi_iCTShM2804oEEi6T6LrUmxkbjh6Hk1PCFB9cy3TPpu0EKGY/s200/IMG_7833.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Class on the verandah, classes too hot</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Class under tree, along with dog and cow</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoKq4DaQ6qf7ATPM6RxD5irA9NbL2QdBwIdNtOfGWjHEjdeETv3jeEG4_wkoxUvtFqAFVfTWoqVknzZpNDa3xws96TzUKi_iCTShM2804oEEi6T6LrUmxkbjh6Hk1PCFB9cy3TPpu0EKGY/s1600/IMG_7833.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group session</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After our observations, we returned to the main school and after lunch did our first afternoon training session with all of the teachers. It was great to see how willing they were to learn and try out new ideas.<br />
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After dinner we visited a nearby temple, then had dinner at Purnea school on the rooftop. The power went out a couple times during dinner which allowed us to see an amazing starry sky (no stars in London!). We also saw fireflies, which I was very excited about!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holy man at temple</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjn9MxhphcTUdE7s1323LXtEbXMlBvyE3mv-2pLZxGomZpTnVaxY9pgM7dkviAD6OCbNe141RoNUWohd8RMJ7WMm56w27J1qIS48_xmQ1ul-F4jVpVyApr8mTdPexs_s1zKyogFyKSZ8e1/s1600/IMG_7847.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjn9MxhphcTUdE7s1323LXtEbXMlBvyE3mv-2pLZxGomZpTnVaxY9pgM7dkviAD6OCbNe141RoNUWohd8RMJ7WMm56w27J1qIS48_xmQ1ul-F4jVpVyApr8mTdPexs_s1zKyogFyKSZ8e1/s200/IMG_7847.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Millions of bugs around light at dinner</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSH5c7WlCWzyuAEuA9aAHeC3M5U2nFsHsAI18FT3w-17V6GKAXn-Nlpfr009-4nc6WSIYEzp7KkNhso9nqCJinxXK5A8LOFTstF3Jr8PgztxtMeet2USWNRhSMLVa3i8ajR6cQlfJhc5A/s1600/IMG_7854.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSH5c7WlCWzyuAEuA9aAHeC3M5U2nFsHsAI18FT3w-17V6GKAXn-Nlpfr009-4nc6WSIYEzp7KkNhso9nqCJinxXK5A8LOFTstF3Jr8PgztxtMeet2USWNRhSMLVa3i8ajR6cQlfJhc5A/s320/IMG_7854.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling the heat in my saree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Woke up Tuesday morning sweating again. I am now beginning to wonder if my poor swollen feet will ever return to their normal size. Did my lesson observations at Ranipathra (the school we are staying at). It was moving to see teachers already trying out activities they had just learned the day before. But the best part was seeing students who were actually involved and getting excited to learn. In the afternoon it was my turn to do my session on Active Learning. Tamara and I decided to team up for our lesson and it went over great. We had different stations and lots of game ideas for the teachers. They all had a lot of fun.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ranipathra morning assembly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV30M2XcRG_s_fxWV1rQhbglY7RXwg8unJki0KY5EUMwVr17R8PUkJfWI9dpzOcD1n8L5mASIeVLrmtBnawM_BYvDykwz_10Vv82U8SNMmQZ-sSboRIRbx5k9fTkYIjZiNS1s8w-UEawrw/s1600/IMG_7865.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV30M2XcRG_s_fxWV1rQhbglY7RXwg8unJki0KY5EUMwVr17R8PUkJfWI9dpzOcD1n8L5mASIeVLrmtBnawM_BYvDykwz_10Vv82U8SNMmQZ-sSboRIRbx5k9fTkYIjZiNS1s8w-UEawrw/s200/IMG_7865.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning to use sock puppets</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgVSuZnQq74ByCzYb2W98EjAA4bHpIz1WHQqoX8g9BAKhr0pf1XoDscq3FfPg9QpAt4FVyvDbjolBXyMqd13BiUori02GR1uWcFAP1Rajje2pPbxBg4DdP1t6icku9LJdDhpgwDFtgcEn/s1600/IMG_7858.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgVSuZnQq74ByCzYb2W98EjAA4bHpIz1WHQqoX8g9BAKhr0pf1XoDscq3FfPg9QpAt4FVyvDbjolBXyMqd13BiUori02GR1uWcFAP1Rajje2pPbxBg4DdP1t6icku9LJdDhpgwDFtgcEn/s200/IMG_7858.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgVSuZnQq74ByCzYb2W98EjAA4bHpIz1WHQqoX8g9BAKhr0pf1XoDscq3FfPg9QpAt4FVyvDbjolBXyMqd13BiUori02GR1uWcFAP1Rajje2pPbxBg4DdP1t6icku9LJdDhpgwDFtgcEn/s1600/IMG_7858.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
After the session, a couple of the teachers took us on another walk through the village. This time we went right in, rather than looping around. As we were walking past the woven bamboo and mud huts one the the teachers turns to me and asks, "Is this what the houses are like in England?" I was at a loss for words. We tried to explain that they are made of bricks, but thinking of houses back home, how could you ever explain to her about drywall and siding, carpet and wood flooring? Nevermind even windows and curtains. It was definitely just another of many eye-opening moments of how truly blessed I am.<br />
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On the walk we had one family invite us into their home. By now we had quite a following of children, but many scattered and reappeared with plastic lawnchairs, offering us a seat. The man of this house turned his fan around for us to enjoy and offered us <i>chai</i>. We sat somewhat awkwardly, then asked the teacher with us if he has any questions for us. Basant translated as he asked us where we were from and other questions. We then asked him some questions and found out that 8 people were living in his hut, including 2 grandchildren. His daughter went to the school, so we asked her some questions too. She told us she wanted to be a police officer when she grows up. We asked why and she responded, "<i>Because a lot of my people are uneducated and there is lots of fighting. I want to go to school and be police so I can help stop the fighting"</i>. Again, just speechless hearing this from a girl of 9 years old. Makes you wonder what kinds of things she has seen.<br />
The villagers were all very friendly, and many wanted pictures, especially of their children. Yet, amongst this poverty was a real juxtaposition. As we were walking out of the village a group of small children run down a path towards us and one of them is on a cell phone! It is true, everyone in the world has a cell phone!<br />
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After dinner, Diana did some henna for the girls and we climbed into our beds for another warm sleep, crossing our fingers for power. I was sharing a room with Diana and Connie.<br />
Connie's sleeping advice: <i>You have to lay as sprawled out as possible with no part of your body touching another - including your hair.</i> Here goes nothing..<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIK0mVBxEKUyIquC1QNFRnehr4K8jNK49SZOc6xZK81uPzL8SqudqUpxMgXZf7SzQvD6uiqlvupK5GKvETEyxJuk7h4tWFAgp_hyWiYMRNIXZeKGbc9aGcGT16bEDwQCqUxQrYsP3ds5gv/s1600/IMG_7893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIK0mVBxEKUyIquC1QNFRnehr4K8jNK49SZOc6xZK81uPzL8SqudqUpxMgXZf7SzQvD6uiqlvupK5GKvETEyxJuk7h4tWFAgp_hyWiYMRNIXZeKGbc9aGcGT16bEDwQCqUxQrYsP3ds5gv/s200/IMG_7893.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Villagers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiShC29yI9XpXj9g1OUtt5dmYO3sdyU2Sob2wGdcmBtf_-SDDyJNZPD09x62Wbx4m4AoceJ7XL9-J1Lj9dr-nPEeidSTmTe53nx4Ln2gke34MwLT7FaJhTPCTxGZOuKy5F9EaZgb2PFerPm/s1600/IMG_7896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiShC29yI9XpXj9g1OUtt5dmYO3sdyU2Sob2wGdcmBtf_-SDDyJNZPD09x62Wbx4m4AoceJ7XL9-J1Lj9dr-nPEeidSTmTe53nx4Ln2gke34MwLT7FaJhTPCTxGZOuKy5F9EaZgb2PFerPm/s320/IMG_7896.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kitchen, dual fire stove for rice & curry</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFaEZhac3JsRDTVqLouOw1dVjAECc4GmkEn2a7g9eD4lN4m1a4cCXe2xGeXG32n0hODFzFk-S1Lhw3ABGgZBvBYsVeAtHb7x0T4LMZXSZRtsWpONf1PGLcV9oIyguVSNomjsGEDR9g_jb/s1600/IMG_7912.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFaEZhac3JsRDTVqLouOw1dVjAECc4GmkEn2a7g9eD4lN4m1a4cCXe2xGeXG32n0hODFzFk-S1Lhw3ABGgZBvBYsVeAtHb7x0T4LMZXSZRtsWpONf1PGLcV9oIyguVSNomjsGEDR9g_jb/s320/IMG_7912.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our little buddy Ayush</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<b>Link to my video of </b><br />
<b>life under the overpass:</b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEkpiH0_YuU" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch?<wbr></wbr>v=kEkpiH0_YuU</a><br />
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Now take a moment and think about where you live. I bet you can come up with a list of things that are great about it. So stop worrying about whether your couch is worn or there is a stain on your carpet and be thankful!! :)<br />
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-21502872058340950772011-07-31T09:53:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.756-07:00India: Journey & Arrival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Friday was a bittersweet day. I woke up at 5 am to skype Dad before he went to bed for the night. Went back to sleep for a couple of hours, then Christine and I met up and went shopping for everything needed for a fabulous brunch! We brought it back to her place so we could enjoy a (several course) brunch while Josephine finished packing and they cleaned out the rest of their things before their move home. We said our goodbyes in the afternoon and Josephine walked me to the tube station with my bags packed for India! It was hard saying goodbye to the Merlina's. Being away from home and family, you really need some close friends that you can count on and share stresses with. These two have been that for me. We have only known each other a short time, but we have gotten to know each other and all got on really well. It was only a goodbye-for-now as we are already planning our reunion, hopefully in April.<br />
<br />
On to the airport I went. My flight was from Heathrow that evening. I met up with our trip leader, Alison, as well as two others, Tamara and Mark. We were travelling as a team sent by Impact Teachers. They are the teaching agency I have been working for and also run this charity which does work in India and Africa. We took a 9 hour flight from London to Dehli, then had a couple of hours lay over before taking the 2 hour flight from Dehli to Kolkata. Most of the layover was spent standing in line for the transfers security check. As we are standing in line I see a shadow out of the corner of my eye. Then I notice Alison is looking around too, so I ask, "<i>Was that a mouse?</i>" Yes. A mouse had run under the podium thing where the lady was checking passports. Welcome to India! Mouse aside, the Dehli airport was very clean and quited modern, which eased my mind since I knew I had an 8 hour layover there on the way back.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkipplCmRvkO3ZwW9FZSEyBml5jrQjOZMsk4r07oW5d_e0UPxTAiHdobPDwdffi6A3W-dL4NQ2nMmriidH8vIaeQ90KwvgzSIBFfNvPZbGlcWpq74u3Vg7ivfdAGUVnIc-37f6MBvgXQQ5/s1600/IMG_7771.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkipplCmRvkO3ZwW9FZSEyBml5jrQjOZMsk4r07oW5d_e0UPxTAiHdobPDwdffi6A3W-dL4NQ2nMmriidH8vIaeQ90KwvgzSIBFfNvPZbGlcWpq74u3Vg7ivfdAGUVnIc-37f6MBvgXQQ5/s200/IMG_7771.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beginning of a week of Indian food</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We boarded the plane and there was an announcement but all I caught was "<i>spray</i>" and "<i>harmless</i>" and didn't realize what was happening until the flight attendants walked throughout the cabin spraying air freshener around everyone. This is a first. We had already had 2 meals on the first flight and before the next meal we would be getting on this flight they handed out the typical peanut airplane snack - but with an Indian twist. They were spicy fried peanuts. They packed a punch but were quite tasty. Finally, around 4 pm, we arrived in Kolkata. The first thing that hits you is the heat and humidity. It feels like you have walked into a sauna. And it would not stop feeling like that for the next 8 days. We found our luggage and got in line to change some money into Indian rupees. Indians don't do regular queueing, so just as Alison was about to reach the counter a man barged right in front of her figuring his transaction was going to be quicker so he ought to go first. Starting to think chivalry does not exist in this country. We finally get the money and Alison counts it to find the guy has tried to rip us off about 500 rupees. And again: Welcome to India!<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LQvcL7Ua-rnraYMiiKgM784PstNevaHPdZndlDs1pyOb2JKdWrr3YEammDVlInH1Y9acFuE0KVZpdOZTKhuOq9TKs4XtLsPf0wK-vbWG4gEWrZUCvXgzzDsa-ZpRJ9yHtD0IMQvNiwsd/s1600/IMG_7775.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0LQvcL7Ua-rnraYMiiKgM784PstNevaHPdZndlDs1pyOb2JKdWrr3YEammDVlInH1Y9acFuE0KVZpdOZTKhuOq9TKs4XtLsPf0wK-vbWG4gEWrZUCvXgzzDsa-ZpRJ9yHtD0IMQvNiwsd/s320/IMG_7775.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taxis outside Kolkata airport</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We head out and meet up with Pastor Daniel and Diana, who are our contacts from the school we will be visiting. We leave the airport and now our next two senses are accosted (remember we already had the heat). Now it is the smells and the noises. We find a taxi and jump in to go to the train station. The ride is about an hour and is unlike any other car ride I have ever taken. I decided that if Mom ever comes to India she will definitely need a sound and light-proof helmet, otherwise she would never survive this cab ride without having a jammer. I take a video because I just cannot believe it. On the road there are taxis, cars, buses, auto-rickshaws,motorbikes, bicycles, pedestrians, animals, and all are going at the same time, all are honking some kind of horn, and all seem to think they have the right of way. There is a hierarchy involved that we slowly learn over the course of the week.<br />
<br />
We somehow survive the taxi ride without even hitting anything and are at the train station. We get to wait in the "first class lounge". Which basically means we are away from the beggars and people sleeping on the platform and there is a fan and possibly some air con. I look in the bathroom and think, if this is first class then I may be holding it all week. We are advised not to accept any tea, biscuits or bananas from strangers as they like to lace them with drugs that will make you drowsy so they can steal your luggage. I may also be fasting for the week.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlSctCAdXtPAg9Pwh5zeDfnaiOWxBNe6mEKSZwF986GM2eUT6LyQJPscDAScQSxju2A5ncki-86WfnIk7FrpLd7hzVkBntjolP3ZMOHMHsTIVsnbXkpwsApG5ZEATcNVYr0T84o9iIhcw/s1600/IMG_7789.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIlSctCAdXtPAg9Pwh5zeDfnaiOWxBNe6mEKSZwF986GM2eUT6LyQJPscDAScQSxju2A5ncki-86WfnIk7FrpLd7hzVkBntjolP3ZMOHMHsTIVsnbXkpwsApG5ZEATcNVYr0T84o9iIhcw/s200/IMG_7789.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the train</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Pastor Daniel shows us to some food that is safe and after our snack it is time to board the train for our 12 hour journey to Bihar. We are in A/C 2. Tier 2 with air con, yes! The other cars that are not A/C pretty much look like cattle cars and are jammed full of people. We settled into our little cubby space with 2 bunks on either side and a curtain closing us off from the aisle. We played some games and tried to kill some of the small cockroaches. In the middle of our game the curtain opens and a man stands there and says "<i>housekeeping</i>". He points to the floor so we pick up our feet and he sloshes some detergent on to the floor then wipes it around with a black sponge mop and leaves. A few minutes later a couple more housekeeping men come and ask us to fill out a survey about the cleanliness of the train. One of the final question asked about the cleanliness of the team, to which Tamara responds "<i>Yes, you look clean, I'll give you a 5</i>". The train offers a "Western" toilet and an "Indian" toilet. The latter has two raised bits you stand on and then a hole. Both of them offer little space between you and the tracks that you can see passing underneath. Lots of snoring and blasting air con made for little sleep, but at least we could lay down here and rest our weary bums after the long flights.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisxa6pmNA2GSgPEziFQK-toV9o5attH4Y2hnG7b6J2go2wHulgRaSvhOPQpVehNFrMq9-i8lMp5A3-e7MNWS1LB70WACFRbPdwGW2XSjD5y7aP0Sg1JmXPNH4zLKvILQ1itkBdGoAb7LA/s1600/IMG_7792.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisxa6pmNA2GSgPEziFQK-toV9o5attH4Y2hnG7b6J2go2wHulgRaSvhOPQpVehNFrMq9-i8lMp5A3-e7MNWS1LB70WACFRbPdwGW2XSjD5y7aP0Sg1JmXPNH4zLKvILQ1itkBdGoAb7LA/s320/IMG_7792.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Claire, at the school</td></tr>
</tbody></table>In the morning, we arrived in Bihar. The station was overwhelming. Bihar is one of the poorest regions in the country, and this was very obvious as soon as we stepped off the train. I immediately had a boy who looked about 7 tapping me on the arm and holding out his hand for change. Another child about the same age was carrying a tiny infant along the platform. Dogs were running around and people were sleeping everywhere, including some old men who were little more than skeletons. We walked through the station to where more representatives from the mission school were waiting to drive us to the school. Driving through the town and along the country was unbelievable. Garbage everywhere. Livestock and children wandering along the roads, hard to describe. I ended up taking many videos on my camera just because I knew it would be so hard to describe some of the things I ended up seeing this week.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0auDqWlUTDDvtAFfaivN-8S6a3D-ITZ7BsaCL6fGWWGSP357oGt2UWwcMMKayWFIFkznBqZ8H4yfrCVB3kCCMhNaQ05vJC66JJ26FiJlQ9rY2Tzbq-zOYl3mVSU1q3exa-DxQBhkQHyIF/s1600/IMG_7794.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0auDqWlUTDDvtAFfaivN-8S6a3D-ITZ7BsaCL6fGWWGSP357oGt2UWwcMMKayWFIFkznBqZ8H4yfrCVB3kCCMhNaQ05vJC66JJ26FiJlQ9rY2Tzbq-zOYl3mVSU1q3exa-DxQBhkQHyIF/s200/IMG_7794.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yummy lunch</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
We arrived at the school and were greeted by many kind people who we would be working with over the week and who were there to provide any comforts possible. They were really amazing people. The school has had some buildings and toilets built recently through the Impact charity. When we arrived, the 'governement power' was not working, but the generator was going. We had lunch and a shower. Which washed off the sweat, but started sweating again as soon as the cold water was shut off. Not exactly ideal, but was nice to refresh a little. We got a little walking tour around the compound and a bit through the village nearby. Then a lovely dinner was prepared for us and we got to relax before our busy week working with the teachers was to begin. Ended the day exhausted and over heated but excited to be in India.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6A7PMdAaycSwFiSkuDPUMOHhXAMT2QxqJ9HcHuunRDDkxFHKJt6lbb4UQ0tKIcXZZV-P2oVhW34A3RJ_BZMkG25Na4LsDNYd_n-5CjoyJ8u_YWqRKDE0ixbhcrbYwjv7C7z_SomPzikfY/s1600/IMG_7807.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6A7PMdAaycSwFiSkuDPUMOHhXAMT2QxqJ9HcHuunRDDkxFHKJt6lbb4UQ0tKIcXZZV-P2oVhW34A3RJ_BZMkG25Na4LsDNYd_n-5CjoyJ8u_YWqRKDE0ixbhcrbYwjv7C7z_SomPzikfY/s320/IMG_7807.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It didn't take long for the village children to catch wind of us</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgisxa6pmNA2GSgPEziFQK-toV9o5attH4Y2hnG7b6J2go2wHulgRaSvhOPQpVehNFrMq9-i8lMp5A3-e7MNWS1LB70WACFRbPdwGW2XSjD5y7aP0Sg1JmXPNH4zLKvILQ1itkBdGoAb7LA/s1600/IMG_7792.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing with village children</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncpdVUxB2iG0yKRc75zpAKNdor7OP-tboJgzd5kO3OBg1AAKp9pqKdHuxnEpmHLjXrG7TH3wIRoiXzNCQ_UzmU3jCMqOSC19pOFoPHPHr53auLalW0s2WloU_g2rOXrEfVZDk3rHNKCEO/s1600/IMG_7814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgncpdVUxB2iG0yKRc75zpAKNdor7OP-tboJgzd5kO3OBg1AAKp9pqKdHuxnEpmHLjXrG7TH3wIRoiXzNCQ_UzmU3jCMqOSC19pOFoPHPHr53auLalW0s2WloU_g2rOXrEfVZDk3rHNKCEO/s320/IMG_7814.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fav shot, at entrance to school</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-8317764241702649542011-07-20T09:13:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.773-07:00School's Out For EVER!!I made it!!! Today was my last day of teaching in the UK. It is rather cloudy and drizzly today, so it doesn't really feel like summer vacation but nonetheless it feels good to be done.<br />
This year has been quite the experience and has taught me a lot about teaching and what it means to me. The whole school culture is very different from Canada. I have definitely learned more about the kind of teacher I want to be, and now think that I could confidently answer the one interview-type question that always had me stumped - What is your teaching philosophy?<br />
It was very nice having one school that I went to regularly. The staff are great at this school and it was sad saying our goodbyes today - I will miss these ladies. I am looking forward to keeping in touch with them and seeing photos of babies soon-to-be-born, and of weddings soon-to-be-had.<br />
I have grown a lot this year. I have learned a lot about teaching and have many new ideas that I can't wait to try out at home. Also, I have learned a lot about myself and the things that are truly important to me. I feel like I have very different priorities and a very different outlook on life from when I boarded that long flight almost eleven months ago. That being said, I have days where I sometimes feel almost nervous about coming back home. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely cannot wait to get back and be reunited with so many important people in my life, but I know that I have changed a lot and I hope that people will accept that. I guess I worry that some might be expecting that I will come back the same person ready to fall into the same routine. I don't see this happening and I hope that people understand this and will get to know the new me. I suppose it will be easier with those who I talk to regularly, but with everyone having busy lives that was not the case with most.<br />
Now I look around my room and wonder how on Earth this will all fit into one piece of luggage! On Friday I get on a plane, and travel to a +5.5 time zone to volunteer in India. Then I have some time to do the last of my London exploration and soon enough will be back on a plane to my -8 time zone. My poor internal clock - I'm sure it will think I'm 30 years old by the time I make it home! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-oAe7JsFV1lbngvK0bLPfDE-u9TtBh2Vjuvsw8Vzr6epFFv597QcAOhZySWKKksXHVIITtGiC69KTCcfYWM8kCiO32DDilmoreIf1_TOBRMwq-EgUpUIrrrhiHvHFxy7qTAcXWqVBmCv/s1600/IMG_7324.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-oAe7JsFV1lbngvK0bLPfDE-u9TtBh2Vjuvsw8Vzr6epFFv597QcAOhZySWKKksXHVIITtGiC69KTCcfYWM8kCiO32DDilmoreIf1_TOBRMwq-EgUpUIrrrhiHvHFxy7qTAcXWqVBmCv/s400/IMG_7324.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am going to MISS these girls!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-72252937379112644172011-07-18T13:56:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.770-07:00The Lake DistrictFriday I turned off my phone and slept in! It was just lovely. Spent the day running errands and then up to the train station to meet up with friends. With my trip to India, and everyone starting to make their way back to the motherland, this was our last weekend together in the UK, so we booked a weekend getaway to the Lake District.<br />
I got to the station early, plenty of time to collect my tickets... except I opened my wallet and realized my bank card was not there. I stood there in shock, replaying the day in my mind, and realized that I left it in the self-checkout at the grocery store - in Wimbledon! CRAP. I went up to the ticket counter and begged the man to give me my tickets, despite not having the card I booked them with. He was very kind, and didn't seem bothered to do me the favour at all *phew*. Luckily I had taken out 50 pounds and figured I could stretch it to last me the weekend.<br />
We all slowly trickled in to the station, most arriving straight from work. The boys grabbed some burgers and we were just waiting on Jan, so we decided to get our seats on the train before it got too full. Then the train started pulling away and we still didn't have Jan. He called me and panted that he had just missed the train and would be on the next one, and hour later. This trip was off to a rocky start.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCl29d1M-2GXEd2rn7uXlUJMIhsFgy_PEyuo4F0kQdWStOk3F5FNzfQONpqmlyG-n1cwXJrpSFc7El-nhSD_UJzkdTCauYjhGr88dMaJ8HxSsQeGYazBx-XgSYhgCv4DgGeIUpKejGs1Xw/s1600/IMG_7605.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCl29d1M-2GXEd2rn7uXlUJMIhsFgy_PEyuo4F0kQdWStOk3F5FNzfQONpqmlyG-n1cwXJrpSFc7El-nhSD_UJzkdTCauYjhGr88dMaJ8HxSsQeGYazBx-XgSYhgCv4DgGeIUpKejGs1Xw/s200/IMG_7605.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet sweeet ponchos</td></tr>
</tbody></table>We arrived in Windermere and walked to the first pub we came across to wait for Jan. We had to take a cab to the hostel, so no sense in him paying for one solo when he was less than an hour behind us. That evening Christine, Eric and Pat had a little more energy that Josephine, Jan and I, so they headed to another pub after we had checked in to the hostel. While the three of us went down to the dock for a bit, then chilled in the room before calling it a night.<br />
Up relatively early in the morning so we could take advantage of a hot breakfast, we set out on our first day of adventure. It was rainy and a little windy, so the hostel said that they could not rent us "Canadian canoes" - which are apparently quite unstable. We walked down the road and bought ourselves some ponchos. Then we rented row boats down the road and set out on the lake.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIgFzFwJ0d5H0YrAxKGsFQT2w9jtJmqrwtQENbx9PcdXHyRt4yXLNxIazedC9ZkUI75Juc6b07aWewnHOJZ9XIHhw79aMHkizbNvWIjmrW9fpc7C4T6ppyzEVyoXIpN6U_AMu2tUCRRgTK/s1600/269623_10100381669962620_48903815_56750805_8281097_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIgFzFwJ0d5H0YrAxKGsFQT2w9jtJmqrwtQENbx9PcdXHyRt4yXLNxIazedC9ZkUI75Juc6b07aWewnHOJZ9XIHhw79aMHkizbNvWIjmrW9fpc7C4T6ppyzEVyoXIpN6U_AMu2tUCRRgTK/s320/269623_10100381669962620_48903815_56750805_8281097_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>In the afternoon we went for a walk in to Ambleside and hiked up to see some waterfalls. They were quite lovely. Later on Josephine and I headed back to the hostel while the others set out to find some caves. They mostly just succeeded in getting very wet and very lost, while Jo and I checked in at the next hostel.<br />
Just after 10pm, they finally showed up, and luckily (for their own well-being) they had brought food to cook us dinner. We all parked ourselves in the self-service kitchen of the hostel while the boys cooked us up some delicious fajitas for a late-night supper.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZfJAaEvxIjSafixceUUGZkJJNy7BVuhOLCIGIdJwYSPkmkrmdJq3PeoCAFT8S_Il8vwKznU0UtUn5EC1M-pVN4tOShP8cG3UhKV896kcTwFgWwg0HokE3ZCpEge2sQmZq9C5vZ_nVK79/s1600/IMG_7629.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZfJAaEvxIjSafixceUUGZkJJNy7BVuhOLCIGIdJwYSPkmkrmdJq3PeoCAFT8S_Il8vwKznU0UtUn5EC1M-pVN4tOShP8cG3UhKV896kcTwFgWwg0HokE3ZCpEge2sQmZq9C5vZ_nVK79/s320/IMG_7629.JPG" width="320" /></a> <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGC5PNnOgailWsKkqRxsaofwu3yJu0Q7xKYlaY_HN5ecUzM2WCWS3ccX8x6mArbx2N1hrtKQXclcre_3xvHxPA0E83v4e1k-xVZpBrbUZJ9RaKVYuE6dlAlnDmVehef6xlmJNE9Bk_2f1/s1600/284919_168023596599051_100001742344165_383649_4147216_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGC5PNnOgailWsKkqRxsaofwu3yJu0Q7xKYlaY_HN5ecUzM2WCWS3ccX8x6mArbx2N1hrtKQXclcre_3xvHxPA0E83v4e1k-xVZpBrbUZJ9RaKVYuE6dlAlnDmVehef6xlmJNE9Bk_2f1/s320/284919_168023596599051_100001742344165_383649_4147216_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRDVLyGUHsZWT6d22Cx2XdaAiG4cVcgJ1sXaRtUkGzpeR-KINb-vn3_XO5c5YsNq-LZXstQM1Qpk9sKrRePsMEY8vMMCoEwkOqKrkCrVi8TO-cNYw1QFprFLuZkXN1kpSSMDk5_b2k6y87/s1600/IMG_7684.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRDVLyGUHsZWT6d22Cx2XdaAiG4cVcgJ1sXaRtUkGzpeR-KINb-vn3_XO5c5YsNq-LZXstQM1Qpk9sKrRePsMEY8vMMCoEwkOqKrkCrVi8TO-cNYw1QFprFLuZkXN1kpSSMDk5_b2k6y87/s320/IMG_7684.JPG" width="240" /></a><br />
Sunday morning we were up again for hot breaky. The previous day's hikers were a little slow to rise, but eventually made it down in time. We had to check out, but were allowed to leave our luggage so that we could set out for another walk. This walk took us from Windermere back to Ambleside. It was a sort of 'back road' route through the hills, a little over 3 miles. We had some lovely views of Lake Windermere as we walked along the crag, and even through a forest.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZcPnucT7YMIQ3xGH0qqvSm2oFAVMvTrEB9RgMf2kbBvOj2KrxRRN03Su-l9SWaHhWxtpF7zo7LMmTSnI-iOJFuny8V4k8ajZJEHZaxmcHq8HFoImiYvUtxW4Hk0SLgM6c20BzyPTCL0y/s1600/270604_10100381676848820_48903815_56751094_2964273_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYZcPnucT7YMIQ3xGH0qqvSm2oFAVMvTrEB9RgMf2kbBvOj2KrxRRN03Su-l9SWaHhWxtpF7zo7LMmTSnI-iOJFuny8V4k8ajZJEHZaxmcHq8HFoImiYvUtxW4Hk0SLgM6c20BzyPTCL0y/s320/270604_10100381676848820_48903815_56751094_2964273_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FX2PB48hBD0NbGVFh4qakPaeAFRbQd91BlrL5zARy0kkmZx4J9xheG7s9oNfWtg2kzrsW_pk7eIi9Qjz9bO4e_OuCPDyrVLSXaDnI85jl7VWvWthrJjJujqnYSBNAyFhodNwpmXFJBOI/s1600/281202_10100381677158200_48903815_56751106_7044135_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9FX2PB48hBD0NbGVFh4qakPaeAFRbQd91BlrL5zARy0kkmZx4J9xheG7s9oNfWtg2kzrsW_pk7eIi9Qjz9bO4e_OuCPDyrVLSXaDnI85jl7VWvWthrJjJujqnYSBNAyFhodNwpmXFJBOI/s200/281202_10100381677158200_48903815_56751106_7044135_n.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
This scenery is the closest I have felt to home since being here. There were actual hills, lots of greenery, and lots of rain! But we didn't let us get it down and made the most of our weekend together. We are all still in denial that we really only have a few days left together. This was a great way to spend our last weekend in England. It really makes me want to show them Vancouver Island and all that it has to offer, since Jo and Christine are from Ontario and, though they deny it, are city girls. Being away from home, friends are your life line, and these girls have definitely been a big part of me getting through this year. We have shared a lot of memories in our relatively short time in England. We have been Wimbledon neighbours, and I will never forget these girls. We are already planning our spring break 2012 reunion, which will possibly include a romantic trip to Niagara Falls :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_8CtX26GKbcJ67x_Gw1T8hdXIRtdkzmAZigewOt0gY7XUR85L_nM0CohmUUBK7TZISTpCTknua5VJZl5Z2H8Uvlsycllqyi7elMq4uwXdHmRpemeWS9wfTYAn2mjDcUpdEbz56J5bg_O/s1600/IMG_7736.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN_8CtX26GKbcJ67x_Gw1T8hdXIRtdkzmAZigewOt0gY7XUR85L_nM0CohmUUBK7TZISTpCTknua5VJZl5Z2H8Uvlsycllqyi7elMq4uwXdHmRpemeWS9wfTYAn2mjDcUpdEbz56J5bg_O/s320/IMG_7736.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4ijoT3qaGhm-QzuTL8FfochOqETipsk2ut1YOL6bqJ2y6iobfMRR49K8PyhXxMJmO_5K-HSbOvuBh5lz9aPdVl_zBbH9KxinI4Wws0oab-cVyCrRuaOG2nWeoB9ScYw02HPztd1nfsF0/s1600/IMG_7755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEik4ijoT3qaGhm-QzuTL8FfochOqETipsk2ut1YOL6bqJ2y6iobfMRR49K8PyhXxMJmO_5K-HSbOvuBh5lz9aPdVl_zBbH9KxinI4Wws0oab-cVyCrRuaOG2nWeoB9ScYw02HPztd1nfsF0/s320/IMG_7755.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-9948868215765943362011-07-17T14:08:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.776-07:00Throwing in the Towel!Then end of term is rapidly approaching. This week I was at my regular school for two days and I was pre-booked in to another school on Thursday. I felt exhausted all week. I didn't even get called in on Tuesday, but still just feeling drained. So I decided that Thursday would be my final day of supply. I am done with being called into schools I've never been to and teaching kids I've never met. I do not have the necessary energy left and my mind is on anything but the day at hand. So Friday I turned off my phone and got a lovely 10 hours of (much needed!) sleep! It was glorious!<br />
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I then spent the day running errands and getting my things together for a lovely weekend in the Lake District.<br />
On Friday I am off to India for my volunteer adventure. I will be working at a school that is sponsored by the agency I work for in London. The agency has built several buildings on the compound and already done two training sessions with the teachers. We are going for the final week-long training sessions with these teachers. While I am there, some of my close friends will be moving back to Canada. It is hard to believe how a date that seemed so far away is almost here. So this was our final weekend in the country together and we decided to spend it in the Lake District, North of London. This is the closest I have felt to being home!<br />
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For starters, it was raining pretty much the entire weekend. Also, there were actual hills and lots of green. It was a fantastic weekend, that I will write about soon. But for now I am knackered and off to bed. For, although I am not doing supply, I am working three final days at my regular school this week. Monday - Wednesday and my teaching career in England is over. Hard to believe.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-52126363630540780562011-07-09T10:39:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.765-07:00San Fermin Festival<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjQTudFE-HHH9HeiVODNLi_Ij6mMWnnsINnwx2X7lDSnqJateXfR3_9_afC_2D7kd2o74IK0KzIUboCTjY1vUfh63YOW9FKMsLxEXp4jwMOo23o-th0JYEy1xGuOmg8kJ9VTt4gNP9aVk/s1600/IMG_7361.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjQTudFE-HHH9HeiVODNLi_Ij6mMWnnsINnwx2X7lDSnqJateXfR3_9_afC_2D7kd2o74IK0KzIUboCTjY1vUfh63YOW9FKMsLxEXp4jwMOo23o-th0JYEy1xGuOmg8kJ9VTt4gNP9aVk/s200/IMG_7361.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We are on holiday after all... Ferry: Dover to Calais</td></tr>
</tbody></table>So many names to choose from for this blog that would help explain this insane festival. "Beer, bulls, sweet sangria and smelly cigars" or "Bulls, buses, sangria and sleep deprivation" or "Bulls, sangria, sweat and wee - the smells of Pamplona". You probably get the picture by now...<br />
Monday afternoon we jumped on the bus not knowing that this would be the longest bus ride of our lives! After 2 hours, we were in Dover and waiting for the ferry to Calais, France. The ferry takes about and<br />
hour and a half, and is much like the Vancouver to Van Island ferry. After that, back on the bus for about, oh, a 16 hour drive to Spain. OUCH. This would be the beginning of the sleep deprivation part. We stopped a few times along the way to restore blood flow and get 'nourishment'. I put that in quotations because the food available at the gas stations we stopped at was far from nourishing. We also did a little 'speed dating' to get to know our fellow bus travellers. Tuesday, just before noon, we pull up at our campsite, Lizarra Navarra. Out of the bus we pile and into the sea of tents that await. On go the swimsuits and we are laying by the pool in no time soaking up the hot Spanish sun!<br />
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Later in the afternoon, we get back on the bus and head into Pamplona for a tour of the city, a walk of the bull run, and some free time to explore and get our essentials for opening ceremonies the following day. At 9:30, we are back on the bus to join in the party at the campsite being thrown by the other tour group who is also at the campsite. Our tour company had about 300, and the other company seemed to have just as many. Needless to say, it was a noisy place!<br />
We left the party a little early knowing that we had to get up, eat our free breaky, and leave for the opening ceremonies by 9:30am. This didn't matter much though since most of the rest of camp wanted to celebrate until well past 3 am, and tents offer little soundproofing. The sleep deprivation continues.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Along the run route</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm tough too!</td></tr>
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Opening Ceremonies:<br />
The town is jammed with people in red and white. Opening day of the ceremony is marked by huge crowds gathered in all of the town's squares. The rockets shoot off at town hall announcing the beginning of the festival. The people who have been drinking sangria since well before 10 am, now spray it all over each other, while kids toss eggs and flour and some toxic looking yellow drink as well. Some have even brought ketchup and mustard to squirt on each other. This is the most insane thing I have ever seen, but hey, when in Spain... We decided to join in. I knew these white clothes were going in the bin anyway!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">San Fermin!!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Riding the Bull!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Back at camp everyone is looking nasty and sticky, a little pool time before showering and chilling around the campgrounds with our new bus friends. Half of whom we had 'dated' on the trip down. Again, we try to sneak out early. This time we think it will for sure work since everyone has to be up early, on the buses at 5:30am to head in for the first running of the bulls.. Wrong again. Starting to wonder what sleep is?<br />
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Running of the Bulls:<br />
5:00am. Who wakes up this early?? We do, because someone is walking past all the tents with a bullhorn playing "Ole, ole, ole ole, wake up, wake up", over and over again. This might make you chuckle, now imagine it is 5am, you are lying in a tent freezing your ass off and have probably slept a total of 2 hours in 3 days, yeah didn't think it would sound so amusing any more.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuO2tUQpn-ac7G6u2pMnzZQ6eNfj2aW2LnBfEkuJmTvJ57mzJVEMnNmJqEtP2tBH-u30_qcxR2azTO-Z-KjLdtwtiikCC5Kbog7xxBw_9peuL8ynSH7M8GdZj2-9DmimvKUbGUdK0fjpTP/s1600/IMG_7484.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuO2tUQpn-ac7G6u2pMnzZQ6eNfj2aW2LnBfEkuJmTvJ57mzJVEMnNmJqEtP2tBH-u30_qcxR2azTO-Z-KjLdtwtiikCC5Kbog7xxBw_9peuL8ynSH7M8GdZj2-9DmimvKUbGUdK0fjpTP/s320/IMG_7484.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There go the bulls!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyway, we suck it up because we are going to see the bulls today! On to the buses and into town. We have already staked out the spot we want near the beginning of the run with a good vantage point. We get off the bus and cannot believe the sea of rubbish everywhere! Everyone we walk past seems to still be awake from the previous day. Many are still drinking. The town reeks like stale booze and pee. I believe my exact words were "wow, this city smells like a bad hangover".<br />
Our spot must have been a good choice because there are already people there. We squeeze in and wait the almost 2 hours for the run to start. People are pacing the route. The run route is cleared of rubbish by sweeper trucks and city workers and then the road is hosed down - this is why on the videos you always see people and bulls slipping and sliding. The cops show up and some paramedics to line the route. People are now stretching and praying. The safety announcements start playing. Now the cops are grabbing people, espcially anyone who is trying to take pictures, and pulling them off the run route - not today fellas!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Fn_e1047tf8LrYC7h_h8hyphenhyphenTjGE3ktaJbJBMhJooUXaY5SNs7eDm56hLV6Bw5zFIO-2oH4qY-WV0oXLSXmbpznrO8iUNxNgvoO6Fm-2Osvkv21kjIxbTEbpTU2_QrjWJsHE7QNP3Z7Y2l/s1600/269016_10100376971792790_48905215_56622632_3801464_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Fn_e1047tf8LrYC7h_h8hyphenhyphenTjGE3ktaJbJBMhJooUXaY5SNs7eDm56hLV6Bw5zFIO-2oH4qY-WV0oXLSXmbpznrO8iUNxNgvoO6Fm-2Osvkv21kjIxbTEbpTU2_QrjWJsHE7QNP3Z7Y2l/s200/269016_10100376971792790_48905215_56622632_3801464_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sangria BBQ</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Finally the rockets goes off and the bulls are coming. Panicked people start running by us, followed by a stampede of bulls. Many of the less daring press themselves against the walls as the bulls thunder past, the others do their best to run. The bulls are past us in about 3 seconds. That seemed somewhat anti-climatic. Then, suddenly, people are running back and some are flinging themselves over the fencing. One bull has gotten turned around and is running back down the run. Then gets turned right way and is going back again. Another slow poke then saunters by too, guess he didn't feel the same need as the others to run.<br />
All is over and we make our way for some coffee to warm up, back to the campsite for pool time and a sangria BBQ.<br />
At the BBQ, Topdeck staff have made about 400 litres of sangria that is included in the ticket, along with delicious food. We know that this sounds dangerous and also want to make the most of our only good tanning day, so we go light on the beverage. Others, not so much. After pool time we shower to head into town for the fireworks and notice some guys taking care of their friend who is passed out on an airmatress in an empty campsite - at least they are feeding him water. Then we notice our tent neighbour, passed out in her tent in her own vomit. Lovely. We head into town dreading the bus ride with the drunks - luckily only one guy requests a barf bag just before we arrive in the city.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbvIRbEB-CRlo682U5-uZIvnw0JK7P3kJH7EKHaAjAeqbY1ECtdtVTF0l3p6lYEVXhdTd9KYH38n5mvxcRcPn5j-UYvTqhPJqIYhrhUH0yPWsVCiZJgfxWJwZ0WaudnDzJ4lfyMvNzYlw/s1600/IMG_7527.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbvIRbEB-CRlo682U5-uZIvnw0JK7P3kJH7EKHaAjAeqbY1ECtdtVTF0l3p6lYEVXhdTd9KYH38n5mvxcRcPn5j-UYvTqhPJqIYhrhUH0yPWsVCiZJgfxWJwZ0WaudnDzJ4lfyMvNzYlw/s200/IMG_7527.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazing!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The fireworks are amazing! Part of the festival is now an international fireworks contest. Most likely the best display I have ever seen.<br />
Everyone is tired from no sleep and a 5:30 wake up? Nope, more sleep-deprivation and night of shivering in the tent. What is sleep and why do we need it again?<br />
<br />
<br />
Last day:<br />
Again, 5am wake up fun. Today we have decided we are watching the running of the bulls from the bullring. This is where the bull fights are held each night. We knew that the bulls we killed, but after hearing the details of how, we decided to skip the bull fights. But watching the run from inside will allow us to see the whole run on the big screens and the bulls and runners at the end of the run. We get some good seats and enjoy the atmosphere. This is a very tradional festival and there are definitely some mixed feelings towards tourists. One guy in front of us kept trying his best not to pass out, but the locals around him were not impressed until he finally got up to find others who he could nap on.<br />
The stadium slowly filled, then over filled. There are no rules, no guidelines. People do whatever they want. We had a group of young teens in front of us clearly boozed at 7:30am, smoking and having a good time. Fights would break out and everyone would stand and cheer and whistle - no security in sight. The bulls and their stats are on the big screen, biggest today is 545 KG!! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEDPARYgKZlS6uXSPmBrB_Zx48mp0pYIBhkT4kiTfjr0ttCOjYX__ZAYFKKHBtYj2vN0KG7KWO-RrSbXEl4VcJA3Mer5SzzTuXM0OS2FvTXlts7Jfxm6RBn2TYp7WgpRXLBFIlSx-_ROm/s1600/IMG_7550.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEDPARYgKZlS6uXSPmBrB_Zx48mp0pYIBhkT4kiTfjr0ttCOjYX__ZAYFKKHBtYj2vN0KG7KWO-RrSbXEl4VcJA3Mer5SzzTuXM0OS2FvTXlts7Jfxm6RBn2TYp7WgpRXLBFIlSx-_ROm/s200/IMG_7550.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bulls entering the stadium</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The run starts and not long after people start running into the stadium, but there are no bulls yet. This is a huge 'faux-pas' and the locals start not only booing, but chucking anything on hand at these people who have run in too soon. Now we hear the thunder approaching and the bulls enter hot on the tails of people who look like they are dirtying their pants! (One guy on our bus apparently missed the run because he actually did dirty his pants. Shame.) They storm right through the stadium and straight through to the bull pens on the other side. When we are about to complain about the anti-climatic issue again, a straggling bull arrives, gets turned around and pummels a guy to the ground. Capes are thrown over the man and people try to distract the bull, who makes it into the pen. We are laughing and thinking "that's it?".<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVPsctv1wJq_O-mmyiDZn5h0hsL8r-jdWBbrVxOUKtmFOTft-dDW0RttTTYHQcf2vTpCiilsnonAVOHm51ToKrRt8uI1XmztqmNqkwDmwRQ3236L0FXvBvXLlRRx8Hr-bPB_vTWFP7muX/s1600/IMG_7569.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWVPsctv1wJq_O-mmyiDZn5h0hsL8r-jdWBbrVxOUKtmFOTft-dDW0RttTTYHQcf2vTpCiilsnonAVOHm51ToKrRt8uI1XmztqmNqkwDmwRQ3236L0FXvBvXLlRRx8Hr-bPB_vTWFP7muX/s320/IMG_7569.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bullring: Seating capacity of almost 20 000</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The runners are all mingling in the ring and taking pictures of themselves. Then we see the sea of people part. An opening is created in the crowd and moves around the ring. It looks like a school of fish being startled. Then we see him. A small steer has been released back into the ring to run through the people and toss whoever he chooses into the air. Now this is getting fun! After this steer has his fun, they let a big bull in who leads the steer back to the pens. They do this with about 6 steers. The crowd cheers as they watch people tossed and trampled. This is again where tradition comes in and locals get mean. Tradition is that you are supposed to distract the bull, then run out of the way. But tourists, who are pretty much pumping sangria through their veins now, want to touch the steer, some even try to ride it. These people find their glory is short lived. Soon after they raise their arms in triumph, they find that they are being beaten senseless by locals who fiercely protect the steers. Crazy to watch!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcwkIA-JrEcWgBZ6McCL3irXuXbray-73riDld-JGu_ZAaVuxKcFSCtdHMmTALGdEOyzbJjKOii4mfKe4G59ilqozE75Af1xAsGPsQ6B6HCpUon4LZABxnbXDukVqIaJIVX-eyghbkj8M/s1600/IMG_7578.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBcwkIA-JrEcWgBZ6McCL3irXuXbray-73riDld-JGu_ZAaVuxKcFSCtdHMmTALGdEOyzbJjKOii4mfKe4G59ilqozE75Af1xAsGPsQ6B6HCpUon4LZABxnbXDukVqIaJIVX-eyghbkj8M/s320/IMG_7578.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone`s gonna get tossed!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>After all the fun is over, it is back to the campsite for breaky. We pack up our things and chill in the shade before our long journey home.<br />
What an adventure this was! This festival is attended by over one million tourists, on top of the locals already there. It is an amazing mix of tradition and tourist attraction/giant party. I am still dumbfouded over and over again by these festivals and traditions that are kept alive. It is hard not to spend a lot of time thinking "They would never allow this back home!" It may be dangerous, it may seem crazy, but it is tradition and despite the changing world, it lives on.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-37435035990004718312011-07-03T06:23:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:51.760-07:00Tennis & Trafalgar SquareI live in Wimbledon. I figure this sets me up for the inevitable question when I get back to Canada: "So did you go to <i>Wimbledon</i>?" I also figured it would be embarrassing to have to answer "No". So Josephine and I decided we needed to see some tennis. Despite the new tradition of rain as soon as school lets out, and the fields full of people camping who apparently all line up early in the morning, we decided to try to get in. Things worked out perfectly when I got called in to work an afternoon in a nursery class, that just happens to be the class that Josephine works in as a TA. After work, we jumped on the tube together and made our way to Wimbledon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7bAq802U_8Yj3dCxU4nUtxIZwhcRAcaHj6FGkBAUSPPLZ3OLdNOZHRoqVhL6O_OTcYme206aX1W5KHk7h6_q1EjlveBKvX0fk_8w9yLU8Kaaoijq8nDWUK8RVvUY__bki4K-lN-I6L_W/s1600/IMG_7335.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH7bAq802U_8Yj3dCxU4nUtxIZwhcRAcaHj6FGkBAUSPPLZ3OLdNOZHRoqVhL6O_OTcYme206aX1W5KHk7h6_q1EjlveBKvX0fk_8w9yLU8Kaaoijq8nDWUK8RVvUY__bki4K-lN-I6L_W/s200/IMG_7335.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Southfields "tennis-fied"</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Wimbledon is the place to see and be seen for Brits. Southfields station, which is closest to the gates, has had a complete make over to appear classy enough to welcome all of the schmancy tennis spectators. We walked to the gates and were shocked to walk right in. The man who handed us our tickets informed us that the next morning when playoffs started that lineup would have been about 20 000 people!<br />
Since we arrived after 5pm, we got cheap grounds tickets that gave us access to unreserved seating areas for courts 3-19. So not the big centre courts, but good enough for us and our budget! We did get to see the hill that is always shown on TV where they have a big screen set up to watch centre court. We could also hear all of the fans inside, which was pretty neat as the stands have the capacity for 15 000 people!<br />
We watched a few matches, there were juniors playing mostly. On the big courts were women's quarter finals.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJb2FkHEEcZhZ4utTedaBL7SZlTJtPk04LXUCfAR0sw5L-TnytgcghCt8LMzKRQnnZu0R-TnIhL3gHIOQElKUEQikf4x9khA3VBEoD95PSfjeE0W6jHxHEwPV2d7SIOxPHJ8yCnDL5q8nM/s1600/IMG_7337.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJb2FkHEEcZhZ4utTedaBL7SZlTJtPk04LXUCfAR0sw5L-TnytgcghCt8LMzKRQnnZu0R-TnIhL3gHIOQElKUEQikf4x9khA3VBEoD95PSfjeE0W6jHxHEwPV2d7SIOxPHJ8yCnDL5q8nM/s320/IMG_7337.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tennis "fan" - I googled how to keep score while we watched</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxN3CS0aezDTV21ld1Q6j4jU7KuM_EYpn6pOXAyRwVwGTilqmQtDtRDMlXe0t-p5Q5BFvrdpJQU087SpPNhBR4XdYoYEdgwX-hE8PFKZBLgLbAC4JCSHTsWNXi_nxYcZNkOKGjdVtNLk9t/s1600/IMG_7341.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxN3CS0aezDTV21ld1Q6j4jU7KuM_EYpn6pOXAyRwVwGTilqmQtDtRDMlXe0t-p5Q5BFvrdpJQU087SpPNhBR4XdYoYEdgwX-hE8PFKZBLgLbAC4JCSHTsWNXi_nxYcZNkOKGjdVtNLk9t/s320/IMG_7341.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Centre Court - the big clock up top is Rolex</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
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<br />
It was an interesting atmosphere with a mix of tourists, like us, and hardcore tennis fans all dressed to the nines. Wimbledon Tennis Club itself is massive, beautifully landscaped and dressed. The clocks on the walls are all Rolex!<br />
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<br />
Friday was Canada Day! I took the day off work because I needed to get my final vaccinations for India. Also hit up the gym, which I haven't done in a couple months. I figured I was due for some strength training on top of all the cardio I have been doing. Though it was a great idea to go and just do strength for almost 2 hours, but now it is 2 days later and I can still barely walk. Not my brightest idea, but it did feel good. A good pain :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUFgtrgqtYUXcqLSZeaonQQhp_spt5hVQ8CX2vOc-VpCyB2ma92v1Pkc8KhDzrxIQvydbOtlA1lqXjMiEARyNDYOPV3kL8hZkUsXRIT9AJjTIy3R5CFGxNGn9C_xsCIy3qg_woIXtljrq/s1600/IMG_7348.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYUFgtrgqtYUXcqLSZeaonQQhp_spt5hVQ8CX2vOc-VpCyB2ma92v1Pkc8KhDzrxIQvydbOtlA1lqXjMiEARyNDYOPV3kL8hZkUsXRIT9AJjTIy3R5CFGxNGn9C_xsCIy3qg_woIXtljrq/s320/IMG_7348.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Representing the homeland!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Back to Canada Day. I made my way down to Trafalgar Square where everything was happening after lunch. I did a quick look around, saw the line for Tim Horton's looked about an hour long and that they only had doughnuts for <b>£1 </b>and coffee for <b>£1.50</b><b>. </b>Then I ran into Andi, who had just gotten half a dozen doughnut and offered me one. Perfect!<br />
<br />
We met up with Jen and stood in line for about and hour and a half for some free face painting. Since we had to wait for most people to finish work, and we met a ton of fellow Canadians while waiting, it wasn't so painful. Also helped that the sun was shining. We then explored all of the tents. Met the Canadian chef who was supposed to be doing cooking shows all day (he is apparently the 'Gordon Ramsay' of Canada). Well, he had gotten to drunk, so they cut his shows off around 2pm. We met him and he immediately had something to say about my Canucks shirt, so I gave him a piece of my mind. Then he grabbed one of Andi's remaining doughnuts and told her to take a picture of him and me while he scarfed down the doughnut she had just stood in line for 45 minutes to buy. Needless to say she was not so happy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ulTe2MQlw3jfH-pyIvLnli3SFfTlgmIW3chdp0YK7bfR3NyOjBNq294v9rmRgq50-UE_VCHYyfb2mjmGTYPkqdmDdoinPJ7C6rNfgh0Himos_YJpxUMhLcZqt0KuiIPKsEcaYpLJNp9R/s1600/IMG_7349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ulTe2MQlw3jfH-pyIvLnli3SFfTlgmIW3chdp0YK7bfR3NyOjBNq294v9rmRgq50-UE_VCHYyfb2mjmGTYPkqdmDdoinPJ7C6rNfgh0Himos_YJpxUMhLcZqt0KuiIPKsEcaYpLJNp9R/s320/IMG_7349.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Probably one reason I don't have a real tattoo...</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Slowly our working friends joined us and we enjoyed our national day surrounded by Canadian accents and more "excuse me" and "sorry" expressions than I have heard in over 10 months! Also finished up the night with a free concert from Blue Rodeo. Amazing! It is even said that Wayne Gretzky was there, though he didn't address the crowd. Mike Meyers was there too and went on stage to wish everyone a Happy Canada Day - indeed!<br />
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Hope everyone back home enjoyed the long weekend. I am just finishing up my packing because tomorrow I am heading to Spain. Running with the Bulls!! <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZlUx9pq9V_zdgmFPJ-AJBuf3drPXAnztEvjLYUQ3wQAfurBRyxutV78GYjcnBqZwV_SfV2ljQ2d28UMEHwP84WzvsMIxvbRslwg4o5YoUOfNzqynhWCczlgyKWeNDYTWXRj-C14u2Tzr/s1600/269882_10150234565771564_509576563_7481878_7007012_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwZlUx9pq9V_zdgmFPJ-AJBuf3drPXAnztEvjLYUQ3wQAfurBRyxutV78GYjcnBqZwV_SfV2ljQ2d28UMEHwP84WzvsMIxvbRslwg4o5YoUOfNzqynhWCczlgyKWeNDYTWXRj-C14u2Tzr/s200/269882_10150234565771564_509576563_7481878_7007012_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My new drunk chef friend...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcGRVfu8OEakWrOR1lmlSw0JH7MbIIIsMMwvSqar-IkvyTxxPjvIe8xcMYzHW-yxg9rFAA28tDIgM3WAxyaszFFPu7bvl-U_5RHHSQ1TADkP2oJjVE4P96a4oEsiyAVl7jPuKDV6WYXo1/s1600/263425_10150234564986564_509576563_7481860_692565_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcGRVfu8OEakWrOR1lmlSw0JH7MbIIIsMMwvSqar-IkvyTxxPjvIe8xcMYzHW-yxg9rFAA28tDIgM3WAxyaszFFPu7bvl-U_5RHHSQ1TADkP2oJjVE4P96a4oEsiyAVl7jPuKDV6WYXo1/s320/263425_10150234564986564_509576563_7481860_692565_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trafalgar Square</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnAGuX64YZ-3KqQmmXMp4uVKsbckuPsRuHqKYeE0n7ncSfdVrug_mXsIib5o1YNVxba1wxu1QLJsuJJ1Kb29scpu3BfHF9iY2jaq_-neOM_kJzWl3pLLKCuCQaZsI53dvG-rsHym3fuA7/s1600/IMG00449-20110701-2117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnAGuX64YZ-3KqQmmXMp4uVKsbckuPsRuHqKYeE0n7ncSfdVrug_mXsIib5o1YNVxba1wxu1QLJsuJJ1Kb29scpu3BfHF9iY2jaq_-neOM_kJzWl3pLLKCuCQaZsI53dvG-rsHym3fuA7/s320/IMG00449-20110701-2117.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blue Rodeo!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYScG4GSjzue4OXmvDLWyYdASFWYx1_d5ksM9lxxEsuno3znUJRAxNgv7YjU3yQHl1KI23hFsxJ2wRJjwX6xFwc_hgV3wDLy9J2A78buxTfdB3DYmoW6pcn3jD6En542jDTPThoCXIHlRx/s1600/IMG00452-20110701-2120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYScG4GSjzue4OXmvDLWyYdASFWYx1_d5ksM9lxxEsuno3znUJRAxNgv7YjU3yQHl1KI23hFsxJ2wRJjwX6xFwc_hgV3wDLy9J2A78buxTfdB3DYmoW6pcn3jD6En542jDTPThoCXIHlRx/s320/IMG00452-20110701-2120.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsavgfxopdI3EkPcd5AdhmmTPoS2hhYJR5x9W8vm2Ya1TdEuR5borT2WOvC7kdT3uGu9Rccjz1iiqlg53cW4j-f8AExrVsKJiC25nfAQyHrEJYEblVfzoRBcSzq7v2CiQr3alyq40oX54E/s1600/IMG_7338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxN3CS0aezDTV21ld1Q6j4jU7KuM_EYpn6pOXAyRwVwGTilqmQtDtRDMlXe0t-p5Q5BFvrdpJQU087SpPNhBR4XdYoYEdgwX-hE8PFKZBLgLbAC4JCSHTsWNXi_nxYcZNkOKGjdVtNLk9t/s1600/IMG_7341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-75573233104158543332011-06-25T02:58:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.594-07:00Add that to the resume!Interesting week! Monday I was at my regular school and continued on my 'Biscuits' unit for Design and Technology. This means I get to bake cookies every week :) My TA, Claire, and I decided we deserve some too, so we always make our own batch (watching the kids, we know we don't want to risk ingesting theirs!)<br />
Tuesday I did not get called in, but was not all that heart broken as it was a nice day and I wanted to go into the city, plus I already had bookings for Wednesday and Friday. I went to the Winston Churchill War Rooms first. A very interesting exhibition. I still find it hard to believe that I walk around all the time in places where bombs actually fell during WWII. So crazy.<br />
After, as I was walking down the sidewalk past St James' Park, I pass a family of tourists with 2 small kids. They are most likely from the States, as the father says to one son, "That is another thing that is different between England and the US, hardly anyone here carries a gun!" I tried my best not to laugh. He was saying this because they had just walked past the armed guards at Downing Street.<br />
Then, just as I was about to cross Downing Street this fancy Land Rover comes speeding up and turns in. The armed guards rush to swing open the gates and I stand on the corner glad I didn't get creamed. But I did get a glimpse inside and I am pretty sure it was the PM! Cool! I also have a suspicion that it was him because the last time I walked past this gate a delivery van drove up and the guards pointed their guns at the poor driver until be showed them the electronic delivery thing that said what he was dropping off. So the guy that got let straight in had to be someone pretty important.<br />
Then as I made my way towards Oxford Street I got stuck in the crowd of the changing of the guards.. oh London, you never know what you will run into!<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiIpd9CUZ_JU1wAjTcHHL7n44PIa-mPGgR3Wa1G0KAh9bSu4ULdVbeyGptkyhpmZGRXRHWBZdrKg8nstHMXAxuPmMW6cBwBNmJEFHubHp4FhVkZnBWCqe1YNsyG6jQgcj3YZbo4xQzbgq/s1600/IMG_7235.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiIpd9CUZ_JU1wAjTcHHL7n44PIa-mPGgR3Wa1G0KAh9bSu4ULdVbeyGptkyhpmZGRXRHWBZdrKg8nstHMXAxuPmMW6cBwBNmJEFHubHp4FhVkZnBWCqe1YNsyG6jQgcj3YZbo4xQzbgq/s320/IMG_7235.JPG" width="320" /></a>Wednesday I got a message from David Swiss' brother Pascal saying that he and his girlfriend were in London to see Kings of Leon in Hyde Park on Thursday. I thought, why not? On Thursday when my phone rang for work, I told them I was unavailable, and felt a small pang of guilt, but shrugged it off knowing I was already booked for work Friday. Well, karma has a way of instantly levelling for me, so it was only a few hours later that I got a message saying that my Friday booking had been cancelled but if I was 'feeling better' they would try to find me something else - damn. Ah well, I was going to see Kings of Leon!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtB-miwymM1IYLNTPHbt_f57OpLUJBAM94E5gcOkvCOHwWi6ukRNSVsI9fOj9xi3caLUh5lVkiGVT8l7jRZqTfbwIVcvXk3dSxp845rEjfQaa4uAusI-39oeHtmc9Ko1ctlSXYABQDnWH/s1600/IMG_7245.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtB-miwymM1IYLNTPHbt_f57OpLUJBAM94E5gcOkvCOHwWi6ukRNSVsI9fOj9xi3caLUh5lVkiGVT8l7jRZqTfbwIVcvXk3dSxp845rEjfQaa4uAusI-39oeHtmc9Ko1ctlSXYABQDnWH/s200/IMG_7245.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A little rain won`t stop us!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The concert was great, though a little rowdy. They had a bunch of great opening acts and we only got rained on once for about 10 minutes. I got home not too late, so that I could be ready to be on call in the morning.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ0kqpR-VjwXZJKLOTPg5nYNudvkGtgrdUdun-R34eCCIpXaJPJvD46t-Fxeu1a9LXsCGFAIiFtuAPVbXmEGi0xnJ8h5oWk0RwWLRwqbbCndgOo9lBv5w3SQD3zipJq5scoN6aGzO-Aks/s1600/IMG_7268.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMJ0kqpR-VjwXZJKLOTPg5nYNudvkGtgrdUdun-R34eCCIpXaJPJvD46t-Fxeu1a9LXsCGFAIiFtuAPVbXmEGi0xnJ8h5oWk0RwWLRwqbbCndgOo9lBv5w3SQD3zipJq5scoN6aGzO-Aks/s320/IMG_7268.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kings of Leon!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Friday morning, just when I was giving up hope for work that day, my phone rings. A new girl at the agency says "I have a bit of a strange booking for you today" ok? "Can you cover a reception?" Now I am confused. Over here they call kindergarten reception, and I have done this before. So I am telling her, sure I can do that, when she says, "Ok cool. Yeah so you`ll just be like answering phones and transferring calls" Um, pardon? I'm going to be a receptionist?? Alright, this could be interesting. And at least it means that I won't have a class of 30 kids asking why my eyes look bloodshot from being so tired.<br />
<br />
I spend the day at a huge academy school answering phones, transferring the calls and typing up kids' files into an excel spreadsheet. But mostly I chat with another girl from Canada who is also covering and is being given no extra work despite them having called me in, so neither of us can really figure out why I am there. But they day was quite enjoyable and I now know what I can do if I ever become too cranky to teach.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTn9WTRNFL40ulAMavqsmNjaL3vKF8uonDtwqw2i3ZaIcBncuyZdKZspS6z1MD4wsEEZXA5k9Y_6Sh3LzsTx6XJPu98_qltfsLVU4kw1TlcjcRaVCMl04qIvwBsXJO_WnJ8ecbheK0P-pd/s1600/IMG_7278.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTn9WTRNFL40ulAMavqsmNjaL3vKF8uonDtwqw2i3ZaIcBncuyZdKZspS6z1MD4wsEEZXA5k9Y_6Sh3LzsTx6XJPu98_qltfsLVU4kw1TlcjcRaVCMl04qIvwBsXJO_WnJ8ecbheK0P-pd/s200/IMG_7278.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me & Christine - Cotton Eye Joe<br />
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</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDa-T1RfNVy_A1hXTaasvswStOVgdvBCR1C7LrBiuJ6qEt5we5fJvgJwVbcCsqomGgS14Ahg-1ryUKx_l7X46qSJionEEQ3XT3bLhgEfTVl9o5kDowghAdLNjPck9NOTZYqVR6ysEvvL1/s1600/IMG_7288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWDa-T1RfNVy_A1hXTaasvswStOVgdvBCR1C7LrBiuJ6qEt5we5fJvgJwVbcCsqomGgS14Ahg-1ryUKx_l7X46qSJionEEQ3XT3bLhgEfTVl9o5kDowghAdLNjPck9NOTZYqVR6ysEvvL1/s200/IMG_7288.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claire & Pina</td></tr>
</tbody></table>On the way home, I grab some wine and veg & hummus - my contribution to Just Dance Wii night!! We have a few young teachers and TAs at my regular school, so we all decided it was high time we got together on a weekend. Georgie invited us all over to play the most amazing game ever invented, Just Dance. We had so much fun dancing up a sweat and laughing our faces off. I will miss these girls!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtavwnZQhLdQ07wrX4Qqsu1lcog3_SIUydhbWxJTu2DgIzCiBbtZvdq5qAFIa8Q_0aDD1Q9LlzFkQZTXXfdCUEj5SnGt5JG60QJ0Hys4uvbM0bWCpGZVRtxCUyg3-1lSVAP192ptJafNMA/s1600/IMG_7294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtavwnZQhLdQ07wrX4Qqsu1lcog3_SIUydhbWxJTu2DgIzCiBbtZvdq5qAFIa8Q_0aDD1Q9LlzFkQZTXXfdCUEj5SnGt5JG60QJ0Hys4uvbM0bWCpGZVRtxCUyg3-1lSVAP192ptJafNMA/s200/IMG_7294.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me & Georgie</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6TGTZOGj0VaUVJ1Lsj8kIpvIJYiYmGG7pqBP1nqVIbsY51dYt7K0c_0t5_NbjrHQRiLjqSuaENC5WUh3_vMRepnM6QVUNwRJjHaPWJyE5R_munMHlDnB-CwmQ1VSOth39_mTqdxMVLd3/s1600/IMG_7326.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf6TGTZOGj0VaUVJ1Lsj8kIpvIJYiYmGG7pqBP1nqVIbsY51dYt7K0c_0t5_NbjrHQRiLjqSuaENC5WUh3_vMRepnM6QVUNwRJjHaPWJyE5R_munMHlDnB-CwmQ1VSOth39_mTqdxMVLd3/s320/IMG_7326.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Girls :)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNiIpd9CUZ_JU1wAjTcHHL7n44PIa-mPGgR3Wa1G0KAh9bSu4ULdVbeyGptkyhpmZGRXRHWBZdrKg8nstHMXAxuPmMW6cBwBNmJEFHubHp4FhVkZnBWCqe1YNsyG6jQgcj3YZbo4xQzbgq/s1600/IMG_7235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGy1mo7vzo8JzcMaFc7MfLyAbVqNgo-9wmnZWJcqHtGkW3Mc2nRCcm-CAqHLiLScpxwfsHLaVsxYpf9UusvsdDICVlrhlcKp8Pgte6rObjcUNaDc03TErob8Xb_fBoG10mtOhDliNzAG-/s1600/IMG_7318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGy1mo7vzo8JzcMaFc7MfLyAbVqNgo-9wmnZWJcqHtGkW3Mc2nRCcm-CAqHLiLScpxwfsHLaVsxYpf9UusvsdDICVlrhlcKp8Pgte6rObjcUNaDc03TErob8Xb_fBoG10mtOhDliNzAG-/s200/IMG_7318.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me & Maverick!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-38855355299241838272011-06-19T03:10:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.585-07:00Do What You LOVE<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfexeTmUFqt5M2n_T0yAKAg8qHmO3qzY0Mc8nbIF1u7KwARURX7kPzzUzMrrQSiWrQdc0J5C5vOYIRBZQO4zYLwyGT8IfriR41IZyhhkjkosCDyMssgY1jOjTndIM2zT4tXp_CzJIp0XC/s1600/DSCN3795.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihabZRg78CJbgA-hx9fc2juyTD3Wd6A9TWimpouzbKcV9GlX_WJRZSG5kENNyD-3psx_SWRecTQcfKNbMyaU5U4kUc4iiBpSkkXgTk6ysQTXxi1FDpmbEP2Dyyj6TgStaZ0RcgjVkU26Q8/s1600/IMG_3494.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihabZRg78CJbgA-hx9fc2juyTD3Wd6A9TWimpouzbKcV9GlX_WJRZSG5kENNyD-3psx_SWRecTQcfKNbMyaU5U4kUc4iiBpSkkXgTk6ysQTXxi1FDpmbEP2Dyyj6TgStaZ0RcgjVkU26Q8/s200/IMG_3494.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aug: London</td></tr>
</tbody> </table>As the end of my year in London quickly approaches I've found that I have become very reflective recently. Thinking back to all of the amazing things I have done and all of the places that I have been and just all of the experiences I have jammed into one year is enough to make my head spin. The one thing that I did not expect, coming over here, is how much my attitude towards my work would change. For the first time in my life, I have found myself often waking up and not wanting to go to work - at all. I realize some of you are thinking, "What?! You've never not wanted to go to work?" Of course I've had my days where I've felt under the weather, or tired or just plain lazy, but I've never had the feeling of not wanting to go to work because I just plain didn't like my job. I've had all different kinds of jobs: babysitting, tutoring, working at A&W, working for the government, teaching French Immersion; and all of them I have loved some aspect of them that kept me coming back each day.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtp3Lsjj0G4dGYmZLPmAgGRxWy7e1ygqvZQwJLmFtLIxBdy1TJoxelXP2TLC06_LU71e7WnHGDSYxzBOuEQX7DsnL6EXzKKbntb8BVkYtMiJDM7kKD9fcuz3teCvpVaUTx34d_Vsnpd_X/s1600/IMG_3562.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHtp3Lsjj0G4dGYmZLPmAgGRxWy7e1ygqvZQwJLmFtLIxBdy1TJoxelXP2TLC06_LU71e7WnHGDSYxzBOuEQX7DsnL6EXzKKbntb8BVkYtMiJDM7kKD9fcuz3teCvpVaUTx34d_Vsnpd_X/s200/IMG_3562.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sept: Oxford</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Over here, something has changed. It's not just the kids - who everyone tried to warn me about before I came. Sure, the kids over here can be a lot tougher to handle. But it is the whole system that I find almost depressing. It is a system where the respect between student and teacher is very different, and sometimes non-existent. A system based on tests and results and standardized lessons that lead to less than inspiring lessons given by less than inspired teachers to practically non-inspired children. It is the spoon-feeding of facts to be spewed out on tests. It is the separation of children from the age of 4 by ability, so starting in grade 1 they know whether they are in <br />
the 'smart' group or the 'dumb' group, and chances are that is where they will remain for their school career.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe8ywds0UBYMbJgslQiRuT0vnhaBX9ZqVFUoiTfV8yAq_k8lyZ0SC_IgQdozqVI3anrtwdogVXPb23ofyU65kHHCUptkqkagzwYji5PeDK1rA-coVRmiJmy9n8W5YRMO2jE-PGdEvDZK6/s1600/IMG_3879.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIe8ywds0UBYMbJgslQiRuT0vnhaBX9ZqVFUoiTfV8yAq_k8lyZ0SC_IgQdozqVI3anrtwdogVXPb23ofyU65kHHCUptkqkagzwYji5PeDK1rA-coVRmiJmy9n8W5YRMO2jE-PGdEvDZK6/s200/IMG_3879.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct: Glasgow, Scotland</td></tr>
</tbody> </table><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfexeTmUFqt5M2n_T0yAKAg8qHmO3qzY0Mc8nbIF1u7KwARURX7kPzzUzMrrQSiWrQdc0J5C5vOYIRBZQO4zYLwyGT8IfriR41IZyhhkjkosCDyMssgY1jOjTndIM2zT4tXp_CzJIp0XC/s1600/DSCN3795.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitfexeTmUFqt5M2n_T0yAKAg8qHmO3qzY0Mc8nbIF1u7KwARURX7kPzzUzMrrQSiWrQdc0J5C5vOYIRBZQO4zYLwyGT8IfriR41IZyhhkjkosCDyMssgY1jOjTndIM2zT4tXp_CzJIp0XC/s200/DSCN3795.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct: Stonehenge, England</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoBtx-Hb2UrG_6Um0tZj4WpRQ0RyNgFwcpJc9G7ce3eVCQanP7akMeuaR4HStKCk7UK_DTzqY416MXtpPEALAxaxiyy9BDBm6Lj4yMkWN8CHqz6CKtrzmN1j8PLVMdZP0Rk7b0a2z80fL/s1600/DSCN3889.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoBtx-Hb2UrG_6Um0tZj4WpRQ0RyNgFwcpJc9G7ce3eVCQanP7akMeuaR4HStKCk7UK_DTzqY416MXtpPEALAxaxiyy9BDBm6Lj4yMkWN8CHqz6CKtrzmN1j8PLVMdZP0Rk7b0a2z80fL/s200/DSCN3889.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct: Bath, England</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kOrhzLyq9xBbQXae88ynbQfxjFXyUE_IBRhWt0W4sVpJyew35ltRubAI3M1hikq_ahBne0wfc52B1tUaqC3fr1Lap0XYx7pH7mKnooNtKzB8HMlDG4mU9OgfeCb5t76gm8a5OAB88dvO/s1600/IMG_4605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kOrhzLyq9xBbQXae88ynbQfxjFXyUE_IBRhWt0W4sVpJyew35ltRubAI3M1hikq_ahBne0wfc52B1tUaqC3fr1Lap0XYx7pH7mKnooNtKzB8HMlDG4mU9OgfeCb5t76gm8a5OAB88dvO/s200/IMG_4605.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct: Paris, France</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNXXpiL3ewG2TbDPDf3wKzN8b53RftmbKqAJ6wVh98tyP1Dzbze8_Ts3ofv8bN5fxXHxZzxIPqz_O_u2IgBkqVLl2ODUYEA5GVOtZvqzRQ9jArLCWekfu0eRC2pbs5du9-H4ki7JYv0wp/s1600/IMG_4865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXNXXpiL3ewG2TbDPDf3wKzN8b53RftmbKqAJ6wVh98tyP1Dzbze8_Ts3ofv8bN5fxXHxZzxIPqz_O_u2IgBkqVLl2ODUYEA5GVOtZvqzRQ9jArLCWekfu0eRC2pbs5du9-H4ki7JYv0wp/s200/IMG_4865.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oct: Dublin, Ireland</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
This is not to say that every day is bad. There are days that I go in to a class full of wonderful kids who are excited to be there and hear what I have to say to them. But these days are all too rare. This does not make me want to give up teaching - though for an instant the thought did run through my mind after a couple of <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPAKeadDuldkPRLaCYcA5RQRbzB_waXH4Or5HGdWjrCb_ZwgTQpo4Vr7zFtkWQ3C60lTBGDhsn9pEgRNyVxDZQcglktzviygdVPikgzLOL3yOdkonKJpvnD79pVnujwFiXmhm937cih4z/s1600/IMG_5524.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPAKeadDuldkPRLaCYcA5RQRbzB_waXH4Or5HGdWjrCb_ZwgTQpo4Vr7zFtkWQ3C60lTBGDhsn9pEgRNyVxDZQcglktzviygdVPikgzLOL3yOdkonKJpvnD79pVnujwFiXmhm937cih4z/s200/IMG_5524.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dec: Geneva, Switzerland</td></tr>
</tbody></table>particularly tough weeks - if anything, this experience makes me want to go home and be a better teacher. To give the kids back home, who want to be there and who are excited to learn, the truly inspiring moments that they deserve to have at school. To be the teacher that they remember when they grow up as one of the ones that really cared and really wanted to be there each and every day.<br />
<br />
And this is what I have come to realize - life is too short to hate your job!<br />
<br />
We can get caught up in the daily annoyances and complain about the little <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINbEFBQjB4LsxMLY8TyjGMsLaDV8snyyBFlcAx-dZRRm-VnNrRB492OhUPGUhkWS-6ngxuo0YP7xL3y7dJv66Cs5EYAv4jZ4INoKPtVzZWQ857MOLxs3uS6_HrwQf8fi-8nQB05zvKwHn/s1600/IMG_6112.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgINbEFBQjB4LsxMLY8TyjGMsLaDV8snyyBFlcAx-dZRRm-VnNrRB492OhUPGUhkWS-6ngxuo0YP7xL3y7dJv66Cs5EYAv4jZ4INoKPtVzZWQ857MOLxs3uS6_HrwQf8fi-8nQB05zvKwHn/s200/IMG_6112.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feb: Paris, France</td></tr>
</tbody></table>things, but at the end of the day you need to LOVE YOUR JOB. If not love it (maybe that is my youthful idealism) then at least enjoy going to it. This is where we spend most of our waking hours, so make it something you love. Bring a positive attitude with you to work and to those that you work with. Wake up in the morning and be happy to start your day.<br />
I might be punching in the hours over here until I can get home. But let me tell you, I have already started planning for next year and looking over the subjects I will get to teach to my new class at my new school, and I cannot wait! I love being a teacher, I love telling people that I am a teacher and I want to be a teacher that my students <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9LVPO3WBF4VfITV7YcgaS13YRQ9kmfHHy_xUwQMCUt_GJFabRHDceXWCqHHGZ3_SQ3LNivZ2ldsGly_OpNNHekel28UIVey7YvOqaRWSkYAkGaaUG6giqJCnTvXki-T3lscg-DFR5Z2B/s1600/IMG_5953.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY9LVPO3WBF4VfITV7YcgaS13YRQ9kmfHHy_xUwQMCUt_GJFabRHDceXWCqHHGZ3_SQ3LNivZ2ldsGly_OpNNHekel28UIVey7YvOqaRWSkYAkGaaUG6giqJCnTvXki-T3lscg-DFR5Z2B/s200/IMG_5953.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feb: Rome, Italy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>love coming to because, at the end of the day, their job is being a student and I hope that I can make it so that they love their job too.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir40vOG8D9T4GAYD7oeIc30l-O751_K6PqZo1yBjf7N1Ol9Rxp0dbgbW3Wnaj-wXEVVbRnYf5Tid-ZI7pgUZLG2kGvcb4uoklOIqhCcqjt2SDL6C8aJoDBmW_BbcLyvNzWEbND0Y7qQyXe/s1600/IMG_6438.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir40vOG8D9T4GAYD7oeIc30l-O751_K6PqZo1yBjf7N1Ol9Rxp0dbgbW3Wnaj-wXEVVbRnYf5Tid-ZI7pgUZLG2kGvcb4uoklOIqhCcqjt2SDL6C8aJoDBmW_BbcLyvNzWEbND0Y7qQyXe/s200/IMG_6438.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mar: Cardiff, Wales</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_yx4kQmXVGFv5ptDIHuyTomvgzzZ7i2TNXP_qr3ec1gvzw8NfGkFEVwmyRrUXoANsnGFWs-287ijbPB1TjbtDGrD-uoBgDuOFtC_P6fx9mPDCAXw2xMYQ8DLND-4BtcUwl9F23J3N75d/s1600/IMG_6521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6_yx4kQmXVGFv5ptDIHuyTomvgzzZ7i2TNXP_qr3ec1gvzw8NfGkFEVwmyRrUXoANsnGFWs-287ijbPB1TjbtDGrD-uoBgDuOFtC_P6fx9mPDCAXw2xMYQ8DLND-4BtcUwl9F23J3N75d/s200/IMG_6521.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apr: Amsterdam, Netherlands</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LsE-HhmQHEGQj6EnLuDRcr5Afd4oUtRlUN1Xjwns83CG-nkkmDoEm4zMHh8GNHsC3epmq70Wfyq0v9B-s0m-Bk-3sOLmOPrRYJII-PAP5FXqsEELqOg489yLX7DgDJfQKs_u9mWj0Y50/s1600/217724_10150164893726564_509576563_6884073_5123220_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LsE-HhmQHEGQj6EnLuDRcr5Afd4oUtRlUN1Xjwns83CG-nkkmDoEm4zMHh8GNHsC3epmq70Wfyq0v9B-s0m-Bk-3sOLmOPrRYJII-PAP5FXqsEELqOg489yLX7DgDJfQKs_u9mWj0Y50/s200/217724_10150164893726564_509576563_6884073_5123220_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apr: Edinburgh, Scotland</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERRc5VdbKBr8Tqfq3l_AT7mTDFJgcnutHp3U00SWhOP4xpsui5OgOMCho3rQOTDT_maKPzQeFlNRm6nsJURw_S_bLALOMU7qBEMM0zlQ_yLLR8FEyPRzdSmQ2O73VTdeWGEN66w92Qx6F/s1600/IMG_6866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjERRc5VdbKBr8Tqfq3l_AT7mTDFJgcnutHp3U00SWhOP4xpsui5OgOMCho3rQOTDT_maKPzQeFlNRm6nsJURw_S_bLALOMU7qBEMM0zlQ_yLLR8FEyPRzdSmQ2O73VTdeWGEN66w92Qx6F/s200/IMG_6866.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Apr: Prague, Czech Republic</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfagOIBTE4LP0PpuBx2zRCB2Ht38t5ngxqMGzBj5slLobL_fIgKuW-RRKsUvG0eD10ytcWtz4v8JrC8nv57AfVVSZcIkIAuEPTMhpTN-8j9RppIlwuN2poYm4F95VdDwI52h-B3xy8X_-/s1600/IMG_7121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUfagOIBTE4LP0PpuBx2zRCB2Ht38t5ngxqMGzBj5slLobL_fIgKuW-RRKsUvG0eD10ytcWtz4v8JrC8nv57AfVVSZcIkIAuEPTMhpTN-8j9RppIlwuN2poYm4F95VdDwI52h-B3xy8X_-/s200/IMG_7121.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">May: Krakow, Poland</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-65804465228040998222011-06-14T13:41:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.591-07:00Just a Good DayYup, that's it, just a plain old good day. Nothing exciting here.<br />
<br />
Woke up this morning not really feeling the whole 'work' thing. So I ate my cereal and started to get some things checked off my to-do list. It was after 7:00 and I hadn't heard from my agency, but I hadn't actively called in either. About twenty after my phone rang. It was them. Asking if I was available. I was.<br />
They thought they had a day for me so I was not to go back to bed. Which I took as my cue to actually get out of bed and somewhat in my 'ready-to-go' state that I claim to be in every morning when I call in for work. Ten minutes later I was out the door on my way to teach in year 3 for the day (you may remember this class from an earlier post - the ruler-wielding child).<br />
<br />
On my bus ride to the school my phone rang again. The agency had switched me to year 1 as they now needed a supply too and the next person their list was more suited to year 3 than 1, and since I can do anything (not my words..) I got the year 1. Sounds good to me! I know that those who know me back home would think - Michelle, preferring kindergarten?? Yes, that's right. Why? Because they are inherently sweeter, they have had less time to be corrupted.<br />
<br />
The kids start to arrive in the class and most are asking me my name. This might not seem important, but when supplying I have learnt that this is always a good sign. If they are investing the energy into knowing your name, things are looking up. One little boy took it upon himself to tour me around the class and show me all the rules - how to reward and punish them if they were good / bad.<br />
Then a little girl comes up to me and says, "Do you know what happened the weekend before last weekend?"<br />
"No, what happened?" <br />
"The weekend before last weekend, on Sunday, it was my mum's birthday". This is cute. Every once in awhile I can see why people have little people.<br />
<br />
The day went really well. The kids were sweet and well behaved, and the tattle-tale count was kept to a bearable level.<br />
The sunshine was also out today. I took a long walk home, then got changed and went for another walk around Wimbledon. On my way home I stopped to get some groceries and as I was looking for a basket I hear, "Hey Vancouver! How are we doing?" A fellow Canadian had spotted my Canucks t-shirt (thank you Chris!) and came up to ask what was happening and when the next game was on so she could watch - that would be 1:00am our time tomorrow... I am seriously considering taking Thursday off to I can stay up Wednesday night and watch.<br />
<br />
And there you have it. Just a simple good day. Gotta love them when they come.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-24007475426434440462011-06-06T15:13:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.582-07:00I GOT HIRED!!!!!!!!!My very first skype interview today, I was a little nervous. I don't mind interviews much and usually do okay, but this one was getting postponed, and I was sitting in my interview make up, blouse, sweater and sweatpants, patiently waiting for my skype to ring.<br />
Finally it did. I answered and there sat my two interviewers. One to ask questions in English and the other in French. The first thing they say to me is "Just to let you know, we shaved our heads last week for charity, Jump Rope for Heart. We're not running a skinhead school over here!". And just like that I thought - I'm gonna like these guys! The interview was super relaxed, well as much as interviews can be. Everything went fairly smoothly and they seemed to like me. I then had to answer a question via email in French just to be sure I wasn't bluffing my abilities. I sent it in and they told me that they had already done a few interviews and would hopefully get back to me soon. As in later that day!<br />
So I had my dinner, watched a movie, and finally it was after 10 so I brushed my teeth, washed my face and jumped in to bed. Was just about to turn off my lamp and turn my phone to sleep mode when I hear an email come in. "Hi Michelle, are you still by your computer, I have one more question for you."<br />
"Umm.. yes, I'm just getting my things sorted for work"<br />
"Can you come on skype again?"<br />
...crap...<br />
I put on a bra, settle for my Canucks shirt (nothing to lose now!) and swab on a little mascara in an attempt to not look totally scary. He asks me to pay up my BC College of Teachers - which I did 2 weeks ago! - because he wants to offer me a full time job!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WOOOHOOOOO!!<br />
He says "So tell your Mom you're coming home!" <br />
Needless to say, I doubt I will be getting much sleep tonight, but I am one happy camper! :)<br />
<br />
<br />
And PS: he liked the shirt!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-1243612347412758692011-06-06T00:40:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.578-07:00Return of the RainsThe last few days of break I tried to fit in as much down time as possible. On Thursday we had our weekly `dinner`, though this time it was more of a late lunch. I had to head in to the city in the morning to apply for my visa for India, then we had our picnic theme lunch. Spinach dip, frittata, fresh strawberries, another culinary success!<br />
<br />
Friday Josephine and I met up at a nearby mall and went to see the Hangover Part II. Enjoyed a good laugh!! Late that evening I was thinking how I wanted to spend my last weekend of break. I was also looking at how few weekends I have left in England. They are quickly being filled with my final trips and training for my India trip and everything else that seems to take up weekends and make them pass by all too quickly. I looked at the weather forecast and saw that the sun was going to be shining on Saturday, but that the weather was supposed to change for Sunday. So I thought a day at the beach for some me time was in order. I found some great discounted tickets to Brighton where I could really enjoy the sunshine. I got up early Saturday morning and went for a quick run before heading to the train station. I was in Brighton by 10:30. The day was phenomenal. The sun was shining, there was a nice breeze and the beach was full of happy people enjoying everything the beach has to offer. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIXQGmAQvLUYBke8rDMNlPwi-svYWQt-TFQHIfty2lnaEcOF6n0rJ_BLf7iK1bK_btYmy63GnQZt4o2Wt52CVtKHYud9BniCadyaAfnyRORVbUCdKwQZGDOQ8gRaCDJwm0R8_Zmfu6Or1/s1600/IMG_7204.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIXQGmAQvLUYBke8rDMNlPwi-svYWQt-TFQHIfty2lnaEcOF6n0rJ_BLf7iK1bK_btYmy63GnQZt4o2Wt52CVtKHYud9BniCadyaAfnyRORVbUCdKwQZGDOQ8gRaCDJwm0R8_Zmfu6Or1/s320/IMG_7204.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brighton Pier<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJWff8sGvcYiQL-jO0aCItzIDwCC970JHu0FJfyyow115FcnKFgj__t8VQTMvqAncMJl_fDe_hShaBf5dTr-fR_qtq6H3B9TX-OZR-2z_S_TK-g-5NWfZwURZqtpf4wPtdefanT9hFIsx/s1600/IMG_7206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJWff8sGvcYiQL-jO0aCItzIDwCC970JHu0FJfyyow115FcnKFgj__t8VQTMvqAncMJl_fDe_hShaBf5dTr-fR_qtq6H3B9TX-OZR-2z_S_TK-g-5NWfZwURZqtpf4wPtdefanT9hFIsx/s200/IMG_7206.JPG" width="200" /></a>I have really started to believe that where you grow up is forever imprinted on your soul. I love London, and all that it has to offer as a place to live, but I feel like a part of me is missing when I am away from the sea. I felt so at peace just me, the sea, and my book. It was just what I needed to feel refuelled to make it through another 4 weeks of work. It also helped that I had received some good news that morning, I have a job interview for a posting in Comox! Even if I don`t get this job, it is always good to have interviews and know that my resume is being looked over and considered. That being said, I will still cross my fingers (and hope you will too) that I get a job and can stop being broke sometime soon!<br />
Now break is over, the rain is coming down outside - another part of home I miss, especially after the record-breaking dry months we`ve been having over here - and it looks like I have the day to myself to prepare for my interview this evening. Then I am booked to work the rest of the week as the countdown is on until our trip to Spain in 4 weeks.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCIXQGmAQvLUYBke8rDMNlPwi-svYWQt-TFQHIfty2lnaEcOF6n0rJ_BLf7iK1bK_btYmy63GnQZt4o2Wt52CVtKHYud9BniCadyaAfnyRORVbUCdKwQZGDOQ8gRaCDJwm0R8_Zmfu6Or1/s1600/IMG_7204.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRl9Pv9ZEnR4SpMNZrIf9NlrmhxRitFHDawVeKqZq-GSY_hGa1A-0752vA0i0HumsakyD56reRJXE87sZdhAHET4v9Gptm9Y8ub-Z1O3HZG9wN1kgB_ymyI8UQtTfCNkRAkXv7lUje6CY/s1600/IMG_7221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaRl9Pv9ZEnR4SpMNZrIf9NlrmhxRitFHDawVeKqZq-GSY_hGa1A-0752vA0i0HumsakyD56reRJXE87sZdhAHET4v9Gptm9Y8ub-Z1O3HZG9wN1kgB_ymyI8UQtTfCNkRAkXv7lUje6CY/s320/IMG_7221.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-39516515721557305682011-06-01T13:30:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.587-07:00Comfort FoodAfter a rather depressing start to the day, we arrived back in Krakow just after lunch and decided some good comfort food was in order. What could be better than some authentic perogies?! We walked over to a local perogie place that was recommended to us called Zapiecek. We each ordered a plate of the delicious dumplings and were not disappointed!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6KZxz1sb0uM6HyE-Dw5IvIm7KBoLFJ3GSXHSmvtyxqSL49tbbEvvok9_KhS9GBIMYHTEb1wp5r0V8bJ-1KsEZ7cVTGBAPDt1MiTYHsNynsItmOQ00wU3oegDH2n-hrnd2ACNTL1dMQbO/s1600/IMG_7120.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6KZxz1sb0uM6HyE-Dw5IvIm7KBoLFJ3GSXHSmvtyxqSL49tbbEvvok9_KhS9GBIMYHTEb1wp5r0V8bJ-1KsEZ7cVTGBAPDt1MiTYHsNynsItmOQ00wU3oegDH2n-hrnd2ACNTL1dMQbO/s320/IMG_7120.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunshine + patio = :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmSAmhi2XXQj7wc8kt5l5NxWUzbkzTPpa8kW2zrip1tMVl15aVPbSWlo6eOZaAX-FyeTJwEBLogK1w6_nlgWQsuMB38q5vhG1fuo8KbMuIJjoGHBvWP_xTmfnuDRdkkwTRAVAJk7HbRZ4F/s1600/IMG_7122.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmSAmhi2XXQj7wc8kt5l5NxWUzbkzTPpa8kW2zrip1tMVl15aVPbSWlo6eOZaAX-FyeTJwEBLogK1w6_nlgWQsuMB38q5vhG1fuo8KbMuIJjoGHBvWP_xTmfnuDRdkkwTRAVAJk7HbRZ4F/s200/IMG_7122.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">creepy bunny!</td></tr>
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After our meal we went over to the mall for a little retail therapy to really heal from our sombre morning. Ice cream is sold all over town, so a little of that helped lighten the mood too. Our hostel serves free dinner at 7, but we still had a little time before it was ready and decided to hit up the main square once more for a patio drink. We enjoyed the sunshine and a round of beverages before returning to the hostel for some burgers! (The first night they made us pasta.)<br />
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After dinner Christine and Eric were planning on doing a pub crawl, so Josephine and I went in search of a delicious dessert place. We walked through the old city, down to Wawel castle. It was fun looking in all the windows and jumping out of the narrow streets as horse-drawn carriages pulled up behind us. We finally settled on a little place I had read about in my travel book called Camelot Cafe. We enjoyed our dessert by candlelight on the patio, along with a glass of wine. When we got back to the hostel, Christine and Eric were there watching a movie. Turns out the pub crawl was cancelled and Josephine and I were the rowdy ones out late - go figure!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_i-6TZSDysW6ZK8Ohrp30OsDBoqW3jBp5ZSkUSCMkDc_b3qn328bCxnual8noIinvazPMOyXosx6jr07-R6MbOYxemk-NInVWEdImdUI3McuTozElkABDsU0HDLeUXuiXnnzgqZa0CzkC/s1600/IMG_7124.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_i-6TZSDysW6ZK8Ohrp30OsDBoqW3jBp5ZSkUSCMkDc_b3qn328bCxnual8noIinvazPMOyXosx6jr07-R6MbOYxemk-NInVWEdImdUI3McuTozElkABDsU0HDLeUXuiXnnzgqZa0CzkC/s320/IMG_7124.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Horse carriages all lined up</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPUelJl-raWleT3pFQduHduiFJOcUQ527n0VKBub-tWRoQ9wK_0eIoJ-3uByFekrktcaKlq8-HMLhinRnbxppTEQc7QdZoCIpLKU8iLWbCc3x-eEoPd_we6vmW1SFbl90FLEB5vDWOSz0/s1600/IMG_7130.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvPUelJl-raWleT3pFQduHduiFJOcUQ527n0VKBub-tWRoQ9wK_0eIoJ-3uByFekrktcaKlq8-HMLhinRnbxppTEQc7QdZoCIpLKU8iLWbCc3x-eEoPd_we6vmW1SFbl90FLEB5vDWOSz0/s320/IMG_7130.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wawel Castle</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Tuesday morning Josephine and I headed back in to the city, while Christine and Eric had paid for an excursion to go shoot some guns.. to each their own.<br />
We did another walking tour of the Old City and learned a bit about the history of Krakow and the legend of the dragon.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNMIYwapFayLkAJ1-cIvF1QdrcKB-xgaBUDM-vtRxKPBFspNEkfheaaR-xz9P9JeI44yCLSx0nQUogtwMu-ntx4jBRsYAdxmmm-4rO2-iG4FUJ5F0giUOnK9zRP3aq8Jrz-t35mEAqDxY/s1600/IMG_7163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNNMIYwapFayLkAJ1-cIvF1QdrcKB-xgaBUDM-vtRxKPBFspNEkfheaaR-xz9P9JeI44yCLSx0nQUogtwMu-ntx4jBRsYAdxmmm-4rO2-iG4FUJ5F0giUOnK9zRP3aq8Jrz-t35mEAqDxY/s320/IMG_7163.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dragon!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>According to legend, Krakow was founded by and named after the mythical ruler Krak, who built the town above a cave occupied by a ravenous dragon. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2zhipKhAUgAHhJenl3NrxAi6nwumdMH7OdWmjBgG4fJjYJ_HWp_KV4y0KGcC4PfuFfdKFJyTgYL4YGMy1h5w7VPKXnyPlQ59MTPqyNWqlh7LHnPNR8DU-ZfQsRQ_rURfyqhHXJuMUI0S/s1600/IMG_7159.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip2zhipKhAUgAHhJenl3NrxAi6nwumdMH7OdWmjBgG4fJjYJ_HWp_KV4y0KGcC4PfuFfdKFJyTgYL4YGMy1h5w7VPKXnyPlQ59MTPqyNWqlh7LHnPNR8DU-ZfQsRQ_rURfyqhHXJuMUI0S/s320/IMG_7159.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Up at Wawel Castle<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP7cypxBILA7xTb1dOSTUhVitIAMljhrgBDj9aToq3VuOKTma1-TZunVFgxpDjTjMeSyn0C2drmzT2MMK0-dNQorgTO4_cVDKzu4fxf2IXJYd-ldh6XFEM0ntHDxiQ7h8v1ol8-TeKOll/s1600/IMG_7165.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirP7cypxBILA7xTb1dOSTUhVitIAMljhrgBDj9aToq3VuOKTma1-TZunVFgxpDjTjMeSyn0C2drmzT2MMK0-dNQorgTO4_cVDKzu4fxf2IXJYd-ldh6XFEM0ntHDxiQ7h8v1ol8-TeKOll/s320/IMG_7165.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmmm Zapiekanki</td></tr>
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After the walking tour we went back in to the old Jewish quarter to Kazimierz for lunch - zapiekanki. Basically a long piece of fresh bread with whatever topping you want. A scrumptious Polish twist on pizza. Then we braved the 30 degree heat and marched back up toward the castle for some more pictures. Finally going back to the Old City.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_StaBDcx-mv4d8p9ANALC4sJgS7SDXVNsJhQpS-aUXlvsyDYh2UQhHJTp-CP3AmAMI7-TwsclDaXGPmzKR_IaifkhRT-9-80l5zMT5Et59Nk7l34esY2lEIfLkFFKlMI-Ep1PVy6K9ep/s1600/IMG_7183.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_StaBDcx-mv4d8p9ANALC4sJgS7SDXVNsJhQpS-aUXlvsyDYh2UQhHJTp-CP3AmAMI7-TwsclDaXGPmzKR_IaifkhRT-9-80l5zMT5Et59Nk7l34esY2lEIfLkFFKlMI-Ep1PVy6K9ep/s320/IMG_7183.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside Cloth Hall</td></tr>
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By this time Josephine was tuckered out so she went back to the hostel while I checked out the Old City Square and the Cloth Hall some more for souvenirs and such. By the time I got back to the hostel everyone was there. We rested for a bit, then went out to sit on a nice park bench and relax before dinner. On the menu tonight was 'authentic Polish' - more sausages and potatoes. They do a good hearty meal in this country!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aoAfrAOcp-q8PUdraNDz8widtiCbXCKt9cRLYPFZX-neBEzWFjG2wfNBgWjQYOYL2RsdbGsDMrEHu_J02lW_A2Luu_nn6LB0kqr30DVxdPe0TichhFA-4rH74UkmT1N-tYftVDg0hpSu/s1600/IMG_7197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-aoAfrAOcp-q8PUdraNDz8widtiCbXCKt9cRLYPFZX-neBEzWFjG2wfNBgWjQYOYL2RsdbGsDMrEHu_J02lW_A2Luu_nn6LB0kqr30DVxdPe0TichhFA-4rH74UkmT1N-tYftVDg0hpSu/s320/IMG_7197.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_i-6TZSDysW6ZK8Ohrp30OsDBoqW3jBp5ZSkUSCMkDc_b3qn328bCxnual8noIinvazPMOyXosx6jr07-R6MbOYxemk-NInVWEdImdUI3McuTozElkABDsU0HDLeUXuiXnnzgqZa0CzkC/s1600/IMG_7124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5GLM17fk6zYvI_YbJvLRC8QqU_ewM3QfJhlel2-we-KumZagZGNGzRfaagxqVp1Zs8SF0ATFZUn41s3SCIu50W2VFn45riiMYevFvDT1_coRqZZv-M-_BtkBSCY6fx47N-OqD7g36hqO/s1600/IMG_7201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5GLM17fk6zYvI_YbJvLRC8QqU_ewM3QfJhlel2-we-KumZagZGNGzRfaagxqVp1Zs8SF0ATFZUn41s3SCIu50W2VFn45riiMYevFvDT1_coRqZZv-M-_BtkBSCY6fx47N-OqD7g36hqO/s320/IMG_7201.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Gang!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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After dinner we all went out and found a nice patio for the worst customer service but the best cake ever! Then it was back to the hostel for a quiet night. We were all pretty beat from a long day in the heat. Wednesday morning we were up early for breaky and off to the airport for an uneventful (thankfully) trip back to London. A few more days off before it will be back to reality.... for four weeks, then off to Spain :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-14772010676807159372011-06-01T10:42:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.580-07:00Extermination Camps<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_yx1VbhZGm74lBX21LMuyQICasR3FJOYrD4sydBQZIAxRtIa_TJGgGPYA3QNSRzpv3fSLsRND2MCATghjd-bfl84YdvwqhNlOatS5IHgsa6yBsnioMyZgizjVZ2qeJ987BvFampRi19U/s1600/IMG_7102.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_yx1VbhZGm74lBX21LMuyQICasR3FJOYrD4sydBQZIAxRtIa_TJGgGPYA3QNSRzpv3fSLsRND2MCATghjd-bfl84YdvwqhNlOatS5IHgsa6yBsnioMyZgizjVZ2qeJ987BvFampRi19U/s320/IMG_7102.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Auschwitz I - main registration building</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Day 2 in Krakow:<br />
Up early we had our delicious free breakfast and went to meet up with the tour group heading to Auschwitz I and Auschwitz II - Birkenau. It is hard to know what to say of this tour other than this is something everyone should see. If you cannot see it then read about it and educate yourself. What happened in this part of the world during WWII is uncomprehendable. Novels like Schindler's Ark may make people out to be heroes when there is always another side, but they also give insight into details that will leave you speechless, and sometimes a little nauseous too. I read Schindler's Ark shortly before this trip and am still trying to make my brain understand some of the things that I learned. I don't want to go into too much detail, I think everyone should find their own way to absorb history but here some things that really stood out for me personally.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoiRI_6xfvBi3WrpQcZzpH5HxdL9pQVH0Inf0XkHbFn5bufgRn5xfg1NF0RQw9ObpJqWglxebB_onQzEu0G6PQpiu5h7Oo4SYFZGIF__tLvr9LxHwdohavUuExT8G6BNGY6xSI9RFr9Yp/s1600/IMG_7103.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVoiRI_6xfvBi3WrpQcZzpH5HxdL9pQVH0Inf0XkHbFn5bufgRn5xfg1NF0RQw9ObpJqWglxebB_onQzEu0G6PQpiu5h7Oo4SYFZGIF__tLvr9LxHwdohavUuExT8G6BNGY6xSI9RFr9Yp/s320/IMG_7103.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Main Gate: Work Brings Freedom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Nazi Germans started their 'purification' on fellow Germans, mostly mentally and physically impaired people. Auschwitz I, where most of the medical experiments were done, housed up to 20, 000 prisoners (about half of my home town's population). When Auschwitz I was liberated they uncovered huge amounts of goods that were taken from the prisoners and stored in warehouses that were often referred to by prisoners as "Canada" because they associated it with a place of plenty (brings tears to my eyes). Among the things that they found removed from prisoners was about 7 tonnes of human hair. They have about 2 tonnes displayed in a room, and this was the one room where I actually gasped and took a step back. I cannot even explain the sensation of seeing this. This amount came from about 30 000 people. Along the walls of the barracks are photos of the prisoners that were registered at the camp. Most have only a number rather than names. With this is their date of arrival and date of death. It was rare to last more than a few months, this was the average for men - women didn't last as long. The longest I saw was just over a year. The shortest was 2 days. The camp commandant actually lived on site with his family. His house can be seen from the building that housed the gas chambers and crematoria.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhcME5bO6Bp0oYTtbibrV9NxGGL_THzYCKsTWJ9OkxaC7Ba-TaeUeXI-2mbiH3z63ArF61teLxRCH7QPn9HIGynNutL7M8HLrEc7GlHSRblCLDwDVOjOQb0FFoYZr-DQH8Cfd6n5BNiPl/s1600/IMG_7106.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqhcME5bO6Bp0oYTtbibrV9NxGGL_THzYCKsTWJ9OkxaC7Ba-TaeUeXI-2mbiH3z63ArF61teLxRCH7QPn9HIGynNutL7M8HLrEc7GlHSRblCLDwDVOjOQb0FFoYZr-DQH8Cfd6n5BNiPl/s320/IMG_7106.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
Auschwitz II - Birkenau was the death camp. When Auschwitz I was deemed not to be efficient enough for extermination, it was expanded here. Birkenau had a capacity of up to 200 000 people. Most of the barracks here used for prisoners were prefabricated horse stables. These were meant to house 52 horses during war times for armies. Instead they were used to house on average 450 prisoners. Sometimes up to 700. The gas chambers and crematoria at this camp were run by 'special' groups of prisoners. These groups were exterminated every few months and replaced by new prisoners. Probably once they were deemed to know too much. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifVlvSC1Vhxfg0sBeOjFwyKvUoz0esscKUyW6FP62s2chNIhfzwiC1_DgnP8JuQDFduyI5OJ8AFaIrv33PCj7oQHbNcPrOEDe9bQAjRspfa-JMcYPNh_C957WzuKMqRJGgbqRHe7t962jZ/s1600/IMG_7110.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifVlvSC1Vhxfg0sBeOjFwyKvUoz0esscKUyW6FP62s2chNIhfzwiC1_DgnP8JuQDFduyI5OJ8AFaIrv33PCj7oQHbNcPrOEDe9bQAjRspfa-JMcYPNh_C957WzuKMqRJGgbqRHe7t962jZ/s320/IMG_7110.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Auschwitz II - Birkenau</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Prisoners were also used to keep watch and run the barracks, they were given special sleeping quarters at the front with more room, rather than sharing a bunk with up to 10 other prisoners. Shortly before the camp was liberated, the Nazis tried to burn and dismantle many buildings, including the crematoria and gas chambers. Apparently they thought that maybe no one would find out what they had been up to. Roll call for prisoners was performed twice a day. Prisoners had to stand until everyone was accounted for. Guards had huts to stand in in case of inclement weather. Prisoners who had tried to escape or shown uprising tendencies were brought to roll call and hanged in front of the others. The longest roll call lasted 20 hours.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEqqKQ6Nn_bY018PURTjesIC0WiHyTFbEDqUP3GLO-d9xelk9hBdJHkOZBba5rcBMB2SBJ9RHLkSUbrL6AtEbH5AmSJWs1iGea_VZ2fNQYgquoz5KjnKS4qDF-jgx04heZvXifDJ_wSkg/s1600/IMG_7111.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEqqKQ6Nn_bY018PURTjesIC0WiHyTFbEDqUP3GLO-d9xelk9hBdJHkOZBba5rcBMB2SBJ9RHLkSUbrL6AtEbH5AmSJWs1iGea_VZ2fNQYgquoz5KjnKS4qDF-jgx04heZvXifDJ_wSkg/s320/IMG_7111.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birkenau - Over 175 acres </td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_yx1VbhZGm74lBX21LMuyQICasR3FJOYrD4sydBQZIAxRtIa_TJGgGPYA3QNSRzpv3fSLsRND2MCATghjd-bfl84YdvwqhNlOatS5IHgsa6yBsnioMyZgizjVZ2qeJ987BvFampRi19U/s1600/IMG_7102.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit_yx1VbhZGm74lBX21LMuyQICasR3FJOYrD4sydBQZIAxRtIa_TJGgGPYA3QNSRzpv3fSLsRND2MCATghjd-bfl84YdvwqhNlOatS5IHgsa6yBsnioMyZgizjVZ2qeJ987BvFampRi19U/s1600/IMG_7102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>There is so much more that happened to these innocent people, all of it equally horrifying. As I type, more and more gruesome details are coming to mind. As I said, I truly believe that everyone should educate themselves on this not-so distant history in the hopes that it will never be repeated.<br />
<span id="goog_1564239812"></span><span id="goog_1564239813"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-82901171011706742202011-05-29T10:36:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.596-07:00Crazy flyers and KielbasaLast night Josephine and I caught the train to the airport and arrived around 10:30. our flight was at 6:10 in the morning and Stansted is a small airport, not so easy to get to early. We grabbed a snack and found some seats to settle down. We did some napping and around midnight were both awake. We looked around and the airport looked like a storm shelter. There were people lying all over the floor, on all of the seats, even in front of check in counters. I would say that this is a sign that this airport is much too difficult to get to via transit!<br />
Around 2 am our fellow travellers, Christine and Eric, finally showed up. They had taken a late coach and had to share their ride with some rowdies, apparently not too fun.<br />
We all tried to get some shut eye, though were not too successful. Especially when a large group of people began cheering for some sort of sporting event that was being played somewhere.. Not fun.<br />
Around 4 am we finally realized we were not going to get any more sleep and checked in. Our flight left on time. We chose the emergency exit row for the extra leg room. An interesting looking man decided to join Jo and I in our row. Smelled like he was part of the cheering squad from the airport. He tried to make some conversation, which we tried to avoid as politely as possible. Then he passed out cold. I was awoken by his buddy, who was sitting 4 rows ahead, trying to lean over me and Jo to wake up his friend. He got him to react, laughed and went back to his seat. About a half hour I awoke to the same thing, but this time Mr. Drunky-drunk in our row was not waking up. His friend kept trying, tugging on his arm, flicking his ear, etc. Finally I motioned to the flight attendant to get him outta here! He told me to ring the call button if there was any trouble at all. About a half hour later (all this in a 2 hour flight!), Mr. Drunk pants wakes up and orders a beer. One for him, one for his friend (we declined his offer for a drink). But he ended up having to take both since his friend had now passed out cold and could not be roused to accept his drink. Jo and I took this opportunity to stretch our legs and found an empty row of seats at the back where we spent the rest of the flight!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqtnKFSiKgQ_uLpZTDm0ysiaOLaD5cJEE5UU3w_sBP7zOoyt4XoYN-2-nAcl022JVnOAzEz9JVdVzxN_fBgM7JdaIvYWCV6AcoRFYqT0ED22Q4BS_pywmSUwplkBtbed7bs39iOBhcu6G/s1600/249944_10100313996655470_48905215_56092003_5332133_n.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqqtnKFSiKgQ_uLpZTDm0ysiaOLaD5cJEE5UU3w_sBP7zOoyt4XoYN-2-nAcl022JVnOAzEz9JVdVzxN_fBgM7JdaIvYWCV6AcoRFYqT0ED22Q4BS_pywmSUwplkBtbed7bs39iOBhcu6G/s320/249944_10100313996655470_48905215_56092003_5332133_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kielbasa = Delicious!</td></tr>
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We arrived in Krakow, caught a cab to the train station and walked to our hostel. We checked in, walked into town, and went for lunch! Traditional Polish Kielbasa, delicious!!<br />
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Then we wandered around a bit before going on a walking tour of the Jewish quarter, including several synagogues and Schindler's factory.<br />
Very long and busy day, tomorrow we are heading to Auschwitz - Birkenau.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old City Square Krakow</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Jewish Synagogue</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCb0OL6c8RBeVjRIAgT9m9Ue7Fx4Ilh_WS_GoGO-5hz3IljIYZkzTVHjrrxulgCzbTpbtyOVi2pGzoWARpsQ-OiT-0zgsRjD7bKfmAPr6JG3nlHjAgy7pvq3BExWMzjmAeW9Up8fOWuhC/s1600/IMG_7085.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiCb0OL6c8RBeVjRIAgT9m9Ue7Fx4Ilh_WS_GoGO-5hz3IljIYZkzTVHjrrxulgCzbTpbtyOVi2pGzoWARpsQ-OiT-0zgsRjD7bKfmAPr6JG3nlHjAgy7pvq3BExWMzjmAeW9Up8fOWuhC/s200/IMG_7085.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jewish Cemetary</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jewish Ghetto</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfXFaYcIJc6SIx_5ZovJ7IqlSgWUrn2H0_25R3OD1lKn6RbBgqaHS3tfNr7T0TZDEyb0zAdbzLj2nJ8pou-LNra48gpT1ratq_4354GQrQ4jVzNL4HBh36MazVxSW1Qy2TxsQ98xFJpjt/s1600/250834_10100313997134510_48905215_56092017_8204547_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbfXFaYcIJc6SIx_5ZovJ7IqlSgWUrn2H0_25R3OD1lKn6RbBgqaHS3tfNr7T0TZDEyb0zAdbzLj2nJ8pou-LNra48gpT1ratq_4354GQrQ4jVzNL4HBh36MazVxSW1Qy2TxsQ98xFJpjt/s200/250834_10100313997134510_48905215_56092017_8204547_n.jpg" width="200" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"> </td><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunshine!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8PCAHedAhNVHELIAJRzJ5XW9jFNGRXjDdrmvpS1FuLGjfvVc7Vhd2cj34t99V93WPd2XWYB4QHxlXUUDyZQL8PXtkSMb72Y3KyGdG-tB-JJwKfV3uwhUUkg1ERhyphenhyphenWpiJIA1rhuzIX1R_/s1600/IMG_7076.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8PCAHedAhNVHELIAJRzJ5XW9jFNGRXjDdrmvpS1FuLGjfvVc7Vhd2cj34t99V93WPd2XWYB4QHxlXUUDyZQL8PXtkSMb72Y3KyGdG-tB-JJwKfV3uwhUUkg1ERhyphenhyphenWpiJIA1rhuzIX1R_/s200/IMG_7076.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mojitos!! Worth the 20 minute wait!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-9745484961600518262011-05-28T01:34:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.599-07:00Airport sit inI survived the week! The last week before a break always seems to find a way to be difficult. Wednesday and Thursday went fine. I was at a school I go to often and it is quite near my place, which makes it even more appealing when there isn`t a long commute involved. Friday I was at my regular school, and since we have another week off for half term, they were doing quizzes to finish up the units we have covered in French. Basically this meant that I gave them a quiz and then a puzzle and wordsearch to do when they had finished and then the hour was up and I was off to me next class. Gotta love it.<br />
<br />
Now we have a week off! Tonight Christine, Josephine and I are heading to Stansted airport to spend the night, we fly out to Krakow Poland at 6 am tomorrow. I am excited to explore this old city. Also, Christine and I plan on doing a tour of Auschwitz-Birkenau. This is not going to be the most uplifting of trips, but I am very much looking forward to seeing and hearing about the recent history. I must say, it is always strange doing tours over here of different cities and actually seeing buildings that were damaged during the wars. Makes you really start to realize and be grateful for how lucky we are to live in a country so untouched by bombings and war. It is hard to wrap your head around the idea that the war was right here and the people here lived through it. Having read so many books over the years, and just finishing Schindler`s List recently (recommend to everyone!), it will be very interesting to see where these events actually took place.<br />
The house that I live in was here during the war, such a strange thought. And it has a little shed out back where they used to keep the ice chest before there were refrigerators, and the grey water runs right outside through a little drain, there is even an outside bathroom. Canada is so cute and young compared to over here!<br />
Not to mention talking to the kids here and they have no idea what a backyard is. Some of them have family in the States and all they talk about is how big their houses are and how much space everyone takes up. Here it is hard to find a house that is not attached to the one next to it. And if your `garden` is big enough to deserve a little patch of grass, you are basically upper class! A very different world view than we are used to, we are very spoilt!<br />
Off to pack. Happy weekend everyone!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdmdpv5NSrLHXb789kvNxi54uwYzJhH_QJGgnrasaXGpAKap7tqlPM9Kx87iQKst9XeBfDDw-z7xsw7ak5rAOjwc7E8EWpdsqWqUh8uyYhTQJThm6-vmL84PSEor7wqcGCCsUEpne8nBx/s1600/IMG_7061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmdmdpv5NSrLHXb789kvNxi54uwYzJhH_QJGgnrasaXGpAKap7tqlPM9Kx87iQKst9XeBfDDw-z7xsw7ak5rAOjwc7E8EWpdsqWqUh8uyYhTQJThm6-vmL84PSEor7wqcGCCsUEpne8nBx/s320/IMG_7061.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our garden. Not beautiful, but big by London standards</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8974766630713466582.post-44921337598321701882011-05-24T15:11:00.000-07:002014-10-02T21:47:35.589-07:00TherapyI am seeing amazing places, I am doing amazing things. I am seeing amazing places, I am doing amazing things. I am seeing amazing places, I am doing amazing things.<br />
This is what I was repeating to myself all day as an answer to the question: WHAT AM I DOING HERE??!!<br />
<br />
When I called in for work this morning and they said that they had a half day afternoon for me if nothing else came in, I was quite happy to start planing how I would spend my morning. But then came the ominous ring and the offer of a full day's work at the 'tough' school I have been to before. I would be in a year 4 class, an age group that can go either way. Well, I am sure you can guess which way this day went.<br />
It took me about 10 minutes to do the register as I tried to shout their names over all of the talking and them yelling at each other to shush up. Then I lay into them about yelling at each other and how we are not going to spend the day doing that, so they all need to listen up, quieten down and line up for assembly. By the time we are halfway to the hall (which you can basically see from the classroom) they are shouting and wild again, and some girl at the back is in tears. Wonderful. The head teacher stops us, lays into them herself and sends them back to class so she can talk to them. She sends in a TA instead who shouts at them and calls them disgraceful and leads them into the hall in silence.<br />
The assembly is all about how the previous day the school got a complaint from a neighbour who called in to say that two students from the school, in uniform, had thrown stones at her window. When she went out to confront them, the boys swore at her, shrugged their shoulders and walked away. So these boys were being encouraged to fess up, and any tipsters were being welcomed too. Sounds like a lovely bunch.<br />
We get back to class and I tell them I don't want to shout at them today and probably they didn't enjoy getting yelled at this morning already. They all look at me confused and say that they didn't get shouted at. Great, they are so immune to being yelled at that they consider it normal speech. Needless to say I could not teach this lot a single thing as they never stopped talking or fighting long enough for me to get a word in. I had to send for the TA in the next class several times just so I would not lose my mind. The only thing that did get their attention was when I finally got close to my breaking point, and my throat was getting sore from trying to talk over them, and I said I was waiting for them to shut their mouths. Apparently this was shocking to them? Otherwise they ran around wild most of the day. On top of this there were very little plans or work left out for me, so since I could not actually explain anything or do any sort of discussion, I was left to invent work from files I searched out on the computer in an attempt to keep them busy enough that they wouldn't be running completely wild all day long.<br />
I was almost to the point of tears from frustration on several occasions. A kid who decided he would run around 'cleaning' rather than sitting on the carpet with the majority of the class ran in front of me and basically punched me in the face on the way by. I beat the damn 'quiet tambourine' until I thought I would be better off to run away and join a band. Nothing. I could have been in another room watching them on a CCTV camera for all they paid attention to me. And after all of this, a girl who had not listened to a single thing I'd said all day comes up to me and asks: Are you going to be here tomorrow? I like you.<br />
Whaaa?? I do not understand kids in this country.<br />
Hightlight of the day: a girl comes up to me and asks if stupid is spelled S-T or S-P and I get to think in my head a lot of funny comebacks that I wish I could say. <br />
The dim light at the end of this dark tunnel of a day was that I have work for the next two days at a school I like, which means another 5 day pay check.<br />
Three more work days until a week off and a trip to Poland, if I can make it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0