With the completion of my six weeks in Spain, I have learned more about Spanish language and culture than I have during years of classes. Looking back on my time abroad, I was able to meet many of the goals I set out for myself from the beginning. I have an incredibly better understanding of the culture and history, having had many opportunities to experience it firsthand. I have much more confidence when speaking the language, and speaking with native speakers allowed me to learn many of the colloquialisms. While I am still translating back to English in my head, there are many times where I was able to respond to others without thinking through what I was going to say first.
This opportunity has allowed me to experience a different country, its traditions, and its people in a way I have never been able to previously. Not only was I immersed in a Spanish perspective, but taking classes with peers from across the globe exposed me to an entire spectrum of ideas, cultures, and beliefs in a more unaltered way.
For other students planning on participating in this program, I simply suggest taking advantage of any and every opportunity. Just going out for a bite to eat or a walk around the block allows you to hear the language, speak with locals, and take in the surrounding culture. It is a unique and valuable opportunity in that each moment you are learning and practicing, even though it might not seem that way
After this program, I hope to continue to practice communicating in Spanish, so I don’t lose what I’ve done while abroad. Whether that is in class or through a volunteer program or with other Spanish speakers, I hope to continue talking in the language as much as possible. Having this language ability is extremely important, as I hope to practice international law, and would love to travel and work with individuals from different countries.
Good early morning from Dubai International Airport! My nine incredible weeks in Jordan have come to a close and I aced my finals. Now is not the time for closing remarks quite yet – that will be in a day or two. However, while I sit slightly sleep deprived bracing for a 15 hour flight to Chicago, I figured I should share some final adventures from my last week.
On Sunday, I went with some friends back to Hashem Restaurant in Wasta al-Balad for lunch (spot week 1 for a full run down). While there, I was really hoping to find my mother a specific gift. I went to the Gold Souq (سوق الذهب), a conglomeration of different jewelry stores. I will not reveal what I bought my mother for the off chance she reads this before I present the gift, but it was quite lovely and required me to go back a few days later. After conversing with the jeweler, he claimed he would get me mansef – the Jordanian national dish – after I picked up the piece.
On Wednesday evening, crunched with finals and presentations (my last ones were Thursday), I went back to Wasta al-Balad to pick up the gift. To my dismay (after I called to ask if it would be ready) they said they needed another hour. I ended up heading to the nearby Bekdesh store for booza (Syrian-style ice cream) and waited while studying. I came back and finally received the beautiful piece. I paid and was on my way. But while in a taxi on my way to my apartment, I received a call from the original jeweler who was not present that evening. He asked if I liked the piece, and after telling him that I did, he said that there had been an issue: his associates had forgotten to get me mansef. He promptly told me to come the next day for mansef, although I rescheduled for Saturday as I was hosting my class for dinner on Thursday. We’ll come back to the jeweler in a sec.
Yes its cheating I couldn’t bring a camera into Wadi Mujib so heres a professional picture so you get the idea
In the interim, I decided to tap into my wild side on Friday and go to Wadi Mujib Nature Reserve. Wadi Mujib’s siq is a river running inside a cliff formation that you can hike (or more accurately go canyoning). You cannot bring your phone as the whitewater currents will sweep it away, so unfortunately I am posting a professional photo to help illustrate it. That said, it was such an incredible experience. It was a physical challenge to move against the waves will climbing cliffs, swimming through deep parts, and pulling ropes to move forward. It was even more challenging going back to make sure the current did not sweep you up. That said, I was astounded by the red hues of the canyon, and the incredible waterfalls, and the tiny caverns formed along the way. Wadi Mujib was not for the faint of heart, but it certainly was an outdoors experience only possible in Jordan.
A view out into the Dead Sea – and across the mountains of Israel/Palestine
Afterwards, we made a brief stop at the Dead Sea right across the street. While I had been to the Dead Sea on “the other side”, it was my first time in Jrodan. Because we were a little scraped up from Wadi Mujib, we did not stay long – the saltiest body of water in the world is not the best place to go with fresh cuts and scrapes. But while literally rubbing salt into our wounds, I enjoyed getting a quick “float” in (you float in the Dead Sea, not swim). My favorite part of Dead Sea floating is finding a nearby mud pit and covering yourself. After floating and washing off the mud, your skin feels refreshed, smooth, and pretty damn great. I really enjoyed the view from the float. Seeing the mountains of Palestine and Israel filled my heart with so much joy. I truly cannot wait to go back.
A pretty sweet view from the Jordanian National Art Gallery’s coffee shop
The next day, Saturday, was my last day in Amman. Since I did not have to leave my apartment until 10:30 PM, I hit the sites of the city. I started at the King Abdullah Mosque – the only mosque in Amman that actively welcomes non-Mulsims. I then walked to the Jordanian National Art Gallery, an impressive little museum in the same neighborhood focusing on modern art from Islamic countries. The highlight was its coffee shop – oddly named Jungle Fever (we will never know why) – but home to a beautiful terrace and view over the Abdali neighborhood. Seeing the King Abdullah mosque juxtaposed next to the few skyscrapers of Amman was incredible.
I proceeded to go back down to Wasta al-Balad and meet up (again) with my jeweler. He was ardently waiting for me and proceeded to bring me “backstage”. Inside, I found about $100,000 worth of gold, some in blocks being flattened out, some being molded, others being elaborately printed on a 3D printer. I got to talk with the man who crafted my mother’s present, and he showed me the process from calligraphy on paper, to digital design, to 3D printing onto gold. After a little while, I was brought upstairs and we ate mansef.
It was a little funny I was invited for mansef, as I had told the man I was a vegetarian. Mansef is Jordan’s national dish, consisting of rice with boiled-ish lamb, almonds, a thin bread, and a yogurt sauce. While I clearly am not big on the meat, I find the yogurt, almond, rice combo to be pretty tasty. It was a fun meal, as the whole place seemed to be excited to be hosting an American. We talked about a lot of the differences between Jordan and the west, and the workers seemed really interested on how the West (and how I) viewed Muslims and the Islamic faith – especially after I mentioned I was Christian. After a wonderful meal, I thanked the owners for their hospitality and great craftsmanship on my mother’s gift. Never in the United States would I find that level of hospitality!
Expect some final summary thoughts in the next few days, but I certainly will miss being in Amman, a place that grew to be a sort of home for me.
I flew out of Hakodate earlier today and it still feels strange, even though I have yet to actually leave Japan. There is already a very apparent shift, in that I have heard more English today from other people than I have in a long while. It will only get more different when I fly into Canada and Japanese becomes almost nonexistent around me.
These past two months have been incredible, and often also felt incredibly long. Now I feel as if I have barely gotten started. It seems like such a cliché, but where has the time gone?
The other day, Mitsuko told me that it was not “さよなら “(“sayonara”) that I should say to them when I leave. She told me that I should say “行って来ます,” which is what I say leaving the house each day. It means I will go and come back eventually. They explained that this would signify that I am going to come back to Japan, and at that time we would see each other again and I would say the greeting I say when I return to the house each day, “ただいま” (“I’m home”).
As I was leaving today, it indeed felt like I was leaving home, and Hakodate and my host family were indeed a second home to me these past two months. I know that when I head back to the US I will surely get homesick for Hakodate and my host family there.
As I left and said my temporary farewells to Mitsuko and Masako, I could not help but feel so lucky and so grateful for being able to come to Japan. While I cannot wait to see my family after a long two months, I really do hope that I will get the chance to say “I’m home” again to Japan. Advancing in Japanese this summer and having all the wonderful memories in Hakodate have only made me more determined to continue my studies in Japanese.
So while this might be goodbye to Japan for now, this is no さよなら. I will go, and I will come back, Japan. Until then.
I have been away from my quaint little city of Tours, France for almost three weeks now which has given me the opportunity to reflect on the six weeks I spent abroad there. While the group chat with my friends still prospers and I continue to talk incessantly about my time abroad, I still miss my afternoons spent at Amadeus Bagel with Lara, my evenings spent talking with my friends at the Guinguette, and my weekends spent traveling to near and far places in France.
Since being away, I have also been able to reflect on my French language acquisition in my short time period there. Prior to going to France, I was not confident in my abilities to speak French and the goals that I set for myself seemed ambitious. Yet, the immersion process (i.e. a host family) awarded me the opportunity to speak constantly in French with instruction by my host mother and teachers when I made mistakes which helped me to further reach my goal of attaining fluency. While this vast improvement in my language abilities was personally rewarding, I was also given greater appreciation for people. While it is true that many people speak some English, the ability to engage with people in their native tongue gives a completely different and more whole idea of what their identity is which was the most invaluable and intangible skill I learned. From these interactions I came to understand a culture more fully than I ever would have been able to without knowing French.
The most amazing things my SLA experience gave me other than just language acquisition were confidence and a global network of friends that I get to see when I go back abroad for the Spring semester. This being my first time traveling alone somewhere across seas, the thought of arriving in a foreign country without knowing a soul, navigating the public transportation system in another language, and learning the layout of a new city frightened me. When I first arrived in Paris I was timid, nervously looking around for someone to help me, and always doubting whether or not I was on the right train or taking the correct route. However, when leaving and taking a weekend trip in Paris before departing, I felt confident navigating the metro system and finding my away around the city. The achievement of these small, daily tasks were incredibly awarding for me.
Following my SLA experience I look forward to the further acquisition of my linguistic abilities in my two upper level French courses next semester and following that during my semester in Angers, France! The SLA was the first step I needed down the long path to fluency. Without my time in Tours I would not have had the ability to improve so quickly which will make me better prepared for the next two years at Notre Dame and after that for graduate school (hopefully in France!).
To anyone reading this blog who is thinking of applying to do an SLA, I highly recommend it because it will help you vastly improve your linguistic capacities, provide you with practical life experiences, and offer you a friendship network that may otherwise me impossible!
(& if you find yourself in Tours- give my favorite little city a “Salut” from me!)
In order to find out how local Japanese people view the US, I interviewed the two members of my host family and a teacher from the kindergarten my host mom works at.
When asked what the first thing to pop into their minds about the US was, two out of the three said the Statue of Liberty. They also mentioned other famous landmarks, such as the Grand Canyon and Niagara Falls. When asked hw they felt about the US, mostly I got very positive responses. They said things like they love or like the US, and that it seems very “cool” to them. They also said it was somewhere they would like to travel. One person also said that when they think about the US, they think of how much larger it is than Japan, and also that they are jealous that the houses are much larger in Japan.
When they were asked about possible things they disliked about the US, biggest answer I received was about the fact that people are allowed to carry guns in the US. My host family expressed the sentiment that they thought this is a dangerous practice, and wished that it was different. Someone also said they thought the portion sizes in the US were extremely large, and that when they are in the US they can ever finish their meals.
We started talking about some of the cultural differences between Japan and the US, and something that my host family said they really like about the US is that there is equality between men and women. They said that in Japanese culture, women and men still are considered quite equal, and they like the fact that men and women are seen in the same light in the US. Another cultural difference mentioned in one interview was that they think Americans are open-minded. They said that because the US is so big and has so many different kinds of people, the people there are much more open-minded and willing to accept people who are different. One person said that Americans are less judgmental due to the openness in the US.
Finally, the both teachers said that they liked the American education system better than the Japanese one. One of them said it is due the fact that it is more varied and less rigid than the Japanese system. One said it is more open to individualism, which is something they appreciate.
Overall, the interviews were really interesting for seeing how people from a different country view the US and US citizens. It was fun to do, and afterwards we switched and they wanted to know what I thought about Japanese culture and its quirks. I really enjoyed all the conversations we had and it was an interesting opportunity for cultural exchange.
How could one go to Munich and not talk about food!
First, the breakfast.
A Typical Breakfast at Frommholz
Frau Frommholz, my host-mother, prepared breakfast every day. A typical breakfast would consist of different sorts of ham and cheese, bread with butter and jam, cherry tomatoes or bell peppers, a cup of juice and tea each, and some sweets. The outward appearance might not look particularly special or strikingly different from American breakfast. However, the uniquely German way of eating breakfast that the picture above does not capture is that one always lays ham (and/or cheese, boiled eggs, and vegetables,) on top of a piece of bread, cut them into smaller pieces, and eat them together.
Heidelbeerkuchen
Frau Frommholz also made really delicious blueberry cakes!
For lunch, I often went to Viktualienmarkt, which is located right next to Marienplatz and is always crowded with both locals and tourists.
Knödel, Sauerkraut, and Schweinsbraten
My favorite place to get lunch in Viktualienmarkt is a beer garden in the middle of the marketplace and serves varieties of pork dishes and beers. I ordered the same dish every time I went, which is shown in the picture above: knödel (potato dumpling), sauerkraut, and schweinsbraten (roast pork).
Next to the garden is a soup place.
Hühnernudelsuppe and Kurbissuppe
Chicken noodle soup and pumpkin soup were always quite good.
My favorite kind of soup, however, was asparagus soup, which I ordered often at the soup place in Viktualienmarkt and also at another go-to restaurant of mine called Steinheil 16.
Spargelsuppe and Wienerschnitzel at Steinheil 16
To my surprise, asparagus is the most beloved vegetable in Germany. In fact, the asparagus season in Germany is from mid-April to June 24th (St. John’s Day), so Marienplatz and Viktualienmarkt were always crowded with vegetable stands selling asparagus.
Wiener Schnitzel
And of course how could I say no to a good wiener schnitzel!
Here, I present brief reflection on my five weeks in Sorrento.
First, I am pleasantly surprised at how much my Italian has improved in only five weeks. At the beginning of the trip, no one would speak to me in Italian because my Italian was simply too slow. I could understand words and phrases of the homilies at Mass, but no more. Reading in Italian was a chore. By the end of my trip, I was having conversations with taxi drivers, salesmen, and Italians on the street, all without the aid of English. I was able to catch the gist of homilies. While I am still a slow reader in Italian, it finally feels like reading, not decoding. I would not call myself fluent; however, I would say that I am well on my way to fluency.
In addition to helping me learn the language of Italy, my classes at Sant’Anna taught me a good deal about history. By comparing Dante and Machiavelli, I was able to see for myself some differences between the Medieval and Renaissance eras, such as the different roles of God, the authority of human reason, and the importance of the state. By reading futurist poets, I learned about the seeds of fascism in Italy. By reading Primo Levi, I understood the terrible consequences of Italy’s alliance with Hitler. Through all the literature that I read, history came alive to me.
I learned about the character of Italy, specifically southern Italy. The Italians are exuberant, willing to set off fireworks for any occasion. They are friendly, especially to those who are making an effort to learn their language. They walk the edge between freedom and foolhardiness, as evidenced by their driving. They are firm in their beliefs, and they will believe in the miraculous liquification of the blood of Saint Gennaro, even if the Vatican has not made it official. They feel caught between more than two-thousand years of rich tradition and a desire to move into “the future.” They are fed up by their country; they love their country.
Italy is a beautiful country. I feel so lucky to have had the chance to live there for a few weeks. I hope you all have enjoyed this blog. Thank you for accompanying me on my adventure.
Yesterday, I went out to eat with my host family for the last time to a sushi restaurant. One of the kinds of sashimi we ordered was the Ika (“squid”) sashimi. Ika is a local Hakodate specialty, and the squid serves as a sort of mascot for the city as well. In the Hakodate Asaichi (“morning market”), there is even a tank of live squid where customers can pay to catch their own squid, which will then be freshly prepared on the spot into sashimi. When I visited the market two weeks ago with my host family, I watched a crowd of people queue up to get a chance to catch their own squid for breakfast!
I asked some questions about the local specialty dish, ika sashimi, in order to find our more about how it is made and what distinguishes good from bad ika. The restaurant was quite busy, so I also supplemented some of the answers from the staff of the restaurant with answers from my host family.
The best way to prepare Ika sashimi is to cut it extremely fast, because the hands are warm, and holding the squid to long makes it less fresh because of the heat from the hands. The best way is to cut it up while it is still alive. The best ika sashimi is as fresh as possible, and the only ingredient is the raw squid meat. It is served with pickled ginger and they suggested dipping the ika in soy sauce mixed with the pickled ginger.
The best ika is really clear and see through, while bad or less fresh ika is white or cloudy. Good ika also has a very fresh chewy, almost rubbery texture. It makes a certain noise when you chew it. Bad ika is more soft and slimy, and has a more gooey texture.
The reason Ika is so popular locally is because the ocean in between the city of Hakodate and Aomori on Honshu has lots of really delicious squid in it. This city makes quite a bit of its living off of the port, and specifically the squid that come in from the fishing boats in the port.
Squid is a huge part of this city’s identity. My host family told me that one of the number one things Japanese people know Hakodate for is squid. There is even the Ika Odori (“Squid Dance”) that everyone who grows up here knows. My friends and I actually learned it for the Port Festival last week and did it in the parade last Friday.
There are also tons of squid themed shops, souvenirs, and other foods available for tourists and locals alike. All in all, squid is an important aspect of Hakodate culture, food, and history, and the city would not be the same without it.
In Bruce Springsteen’s 1973 album “Greetings from Asbury Park” (his first with the E Street Band), we listen to Bruce describe the process of growing up and setting roots down in a place in a song aptly titled “Growin’ Up”. After he describes the challenges, in the last verse he sings, “Well, my feet they finally took root in the earth…and I swear I found the key to the universe in the engine of an old parked car”. Perhaps this is symbolic of him finding his niche and learning to be comfortable with his identity. After eight weeks in Russia, I similarly feel that I have found an environment where I can embrace my appreciation of Russian culture and language, and I learned how to tackle new challenges of acculturation.
But now, it is time for me to say goodbye. Eight intense and incredible weeks here have left me with not only language gains and education but also more confidence in my capability to tackle new challenges. Those of you who know me well know that I’ve shared these sentiments of personal growth and confidence, and honestly that might be the most important accomplishment of this summer. In a couple days, I will concentrate more specifically on the language gains and education in my post-program reflection.
Over the course of this summer, there were many new and unfamiliar challenges and unfamiliar challenges in my daily interactions, but one
Main monument to the soliders at Borodino, the site of the bloodiest battle of the 19th century
source of stability was my weekly Catholic Mass. Nestled within a city neighborhood stands a large, red brick Gothic-style cathedral, the Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. A couple of times I attended the English-French Mass but most of the time, I opted for the Russian Mass. Often I did not understand a lot of what was said, but I picked up responses and could also participate based on the consistency of the Catholic Mass. It was fulfilling when I finally understood some of the Gospel reading.
The status of Catholics in Russia remains complicated, as it is not recognized as one of the core religions of the Russian state. Significant doctrinal differences still stand between Russian Orthodox and Catholic Churches, and reconciliation has been slow. Given the alliance between
The Winter Palace, St. Petersburg
the government and the Russian Orthodox Church, Catholics can sometimes find themselves politically marginalized. For instance, the English-French Catholic community (mostly consisting of African and Southeast Asian immigrants) at the cathedral continues to look for a permanent home, as they were evicted from their previous building and have not been successful in litigation. For now, they have Mass in the crypt of the Cathedral.
As a whole, the Catholic community in Russia is a small one, consisting of probably less than 0.5% of the population. As my host brother-in-law told me, there are two active Catholic churches in Moscow, a city of 12 million people. The Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception is the most popular one, originally built by Polish Catholic immigrants at the turn of
The throne room of the Winter Palace, St. Petersburg
the 20th century. My host family are actually descendants of these Polish immigrants and are practicing Catholics. My host mother stated that she, as a Russian Catholic, has not felt excluded by her friends and colleagues who know her Catholic identity. Likewise, my host brother-in-law shared the idea that in a city as big as Moscow, it is easier to practice than it would be in a small city or village. Yes, Catholicism is in the minority, but this vibrant community continues to grow here in Moscow.
Now, time for a short recap of my adventures this past week:
St. Petersburg / Lake Ladoga Cruise: Last Sunday evening, I traveled to St. Petersburg on an overnight train and explored the city on Monday
A fort from 1321 that guards the southern entrance to Lake Ladoga from the Neva River
before boarding a river cruise to Lake Ladoga. The boat took us up the Neva River to the southern coast of Lake Ladoga, a huge freshwater lake northeast of St. Petersburg that allows for gorgeous views and cool breezes. We stopped at several monasteries and a quarry-turned-park that provided the stone to build structures like St. Isaac’s Cathedral in St. Petersburg. We also had the chance to view rural life in the Russian countryside, a far cry from the glamor of Moscow and Petersburg. The boat returned on Friday morning and after another day of exploring St. Petersburg and the Winter Palace, I returned to Moscow.
Borodino: On Monday, I decided to take a day trip to visit Borodino, the site of the famous 1812 battle of the Napoleonic Wars and the
Fragment of the earthen barricades constructed by Russian artillery at the Battle of Borodino in 1812
bloodiest battle of the 19th century. Unfortunately, I picked the day to go when the museum itself was closed, but I was able to walk around the territory and see some of the various monuments. The most impressive structure is a huge monument that commemorates all of the soldiers at Borodino, which looks out over the rolling hills of the battlefield. The small towns alongside the monuments belied the area’s historical significance – you would never guess that this place was the site of one of the most famous engagements in Russian military history. I made my return trip interesting by missing my train, asking how to get to the next city for a train, taking a bus there, and then finally catching a commuter train back to Moscow.
Lenin’s Mausoleum: As Lou Holtz once said, “If you have been here, no explanation is necessary. If you haven’t, none will suffice.” That’s all I have for this one.
Exploring Moscow / My Favorite Place: Yesterday, I walked all around
A view of Lake Ladoga from the back of the cruise ship
Moscow to see everything one last time, and I made my way back to my favorite place – the Большой камменый мост, or simply, the Big Stone Bridge. Some of you might remember that I took a picture from this same bridge last year and this year, and it was here that my love for Russia and Moscow began. I was able to stop by, take another picture of the gorgeous view of the Kremlin, and reflect on the language and personal gains this summer.
I will be flying back to Washington and then to Pittsburgh on Thursday, staying for four days before I return to Notre Dame. I want to thank everyone who has been reading and following my summer adventures, and I hope that you have all learned along with me. I will write a brief closing blog in a couple days, but this will be my last comprehensive post. I have greatly enjoyed sharing my experiences abroad and perhaps my second “growing up” as a result of language immersion. I only hope that I will have the chance to blog live from Russia in the near future.
Our bean an tí, Maire, is so sweet and always hanging around the kitchen, ready to engage us in conversation As Gaeilge. Earlier in the summer I would avoid entering the kitchen alone because I didn’t want to be put on the spot and forced to deal with the brunt of all her questions. The first time I had to do laundry, I had to sit in the laundry room to sort my clothes, I was nervously conversing with her in Irish, and quickly realized that it was not nearly as intimidating as I had thought. While I was doing my laundry, she was cooking dinner, and so I engaged her in conversation about our meal for that night, Curry.
The Irish obsession with curry fascinates me. The best explanation I received was that how Americans consume Chinese and Mexican food, the Irish like Indian food. I can’t find tacos here for the life of me (and at home they are no more than 15 minutes away at any given time), but you can find curry at just about any restaurant. In Carraroe, there are 3(ish) restaurants (if you can call them that). Of those 3, the tiny chipper sells curry chips, and the pizza place also includes an Indian menu. Every Thursday, we get Curry chicken and rice at home. Although I expected a difference between American food and Irish food (a difference that makes me miss home), I wasn’t expecting a difference between the international food preferences. I mean how can not everyone love tacos? What does one need to do to get some tortilla chips around here?
As I talked to my bean an tí about the curry for that night, I told her I was surprised by how much I enjoyed the curry. I had never had it before coming to Ireland and hadn’t necessarily expected that to be one of the “Irish” foods I would miss. Our conversation on the topic was limited by my (lack of) food vocabulary, but she was telling me “is aoibhinn liom bia spíosrach” and the intonation in her voice made it very clear how passionate she was about spicy food. She showed me the brand of curry sauce that was the most popular in Ireland, McDonnell’s. The conversation then shifted to some of our other favorite spicy foods. In trying to relate the topic back to American food, she asked if there were any Subways where I was from, telling me that she loved Subway, and always got the hot sauce (?) on her sandwich. I brought up one of my personal favorites, buffalo sauce, and not surprisingly, she loved buffalo sauce too. The conversation on spicy food wasn’t necessarily grammatically difficult or intellectually challenging, but I felt that we were actually bonding in some way over “bia spíosrach,” and it is always difficult to do that in a language you aren’t fully comfortable with.
I try to stop in the kitchen and chat with her every afternoon. I used to stop in in the mornings, but we would talk so long that I wouldn’t have time to finish getting ready for class. She has been telling me how much my Irish has improved in our recent conversations. I do feel that my conversation skills have improved greatly. When I don’t understand something said, all she has to do is repeat it a bit more slowly in Irish before I understand, rather than translating it to English. We generally chat about the weather, class, my plans for the night. Her mother is often also around the house and is also a joy to speak with. She has a heavier accent but speaks almost insultingly slow sometimes so that we understand. She used to be a bean an tí and host students, so she loves talking with us and forcing us to use our Irish outside the classroom. She, however, seemed less convinced that my Irish was improving, as I was talking to her about my experience she kept repeating “I hope your Irish improves, le cunamh Dé” (Le cunamh Dé meaning with the help of God). I too hope that my Irish is improving, le cunamh Dé!
