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…from Berlin, just after a stint with covid and a redistribution of my summer plans, I visited München, where I, as part of my publishing press TABLOID, had been invited for a small residency and exhibition in August, just following my German classes at Goethe Institute. I was to visit the institution in München to get a tour of the space and meet the curator.

I want to write a little about some of the visual and verbal differences between München and Berlin, which were immediately static and stark in their remove from each other. München lies in the western part of the country, in Bavaria/Bayern, and is known for its money and a capitalistic, aristocratic vibe. As I met with the curator and described my shock at the European-ness of the city, she mentioned that München was often called the “northernmost city of Italy.” Then she laughed and asked if that was the correct way to say it in English. She herself had lived in Berlin for many years, and München was likewise a strange, cultural shift for her — from the graffiti-laden streets in Berlin to manicured royal gardens (now available to the public, though previously guarded) — in which the art institution had, for 200 years, been housed.

I had arrived at the hotel after a 10 hour train ride from Berlin on the 9-Euro ticket, a new, nearly-free experimental ticket that includes country-wide public transportation and regional trains, and spans all three of the summer months of tourism. I was sweaty and still dazed by the recent sickness and the long transit. The room I checked into was intensely European, decked with an ornate moulding of cherubs in each corner of its ceiling, as well as a chandelier. A standing claw-foot tub, about which I gasped. Piano keys from the cafe downstairs rippled through the tall windows. I was flattered and shocked to be given such an aesthetic demonstration of care by any institution.

Walking through München in search of Essen, I immediately noticed a softer, wealthier atmosphere than what I experience most neighborhoods of Berlin — no graffiti, no music playing loudly in the Platz — and began to listen to people speaking German for cues on this shift. In the two days I spent there in that city, the phrase I heard the most was “Ich habe es eilig!” — I’m in a rush — at least four times that first night.

Interesting, already, to note that the speed and intention of the city was so different to Berlin, which holds more of a molecule of socialism at its core, so that less often present is that streak of individualism that seemed to be communicated by these rushing passersby. One had to do things in München. Berlin’s tempo, on the other hand, is relaxed in spirit, and the leisure does not always seem a product or result of wealth, but rather of an ethos. At the same time — Berlin is much dirtier as a city, its aesthetics don’t always impress a romantic American looking for the flair of European architecture… But much of it, of course, was destroyed in this country.

Meanwhile, bis nächste Woche — I’ll fill in more about my specific experience in Berlin, and comment on some of the classroom dynamics emerging between Western and Eastern Europeans and Americans in the loaded, muted atmosphere of an intermediate course.

Empanadas are really big here in Chile, in fact they are a national dish. On our trip to Pomaire, a pottery town about a two hour drive from Santiago, we were given some of the country’s favorite: pino empanadas. Empanadas are essentially dough with various types of fillings. Pino is a popular type of empanada, the word coming from the Mapuche indigenous word “pinu,” meaning pieces of cooked meet, typically beef. Empanadas are a staple in daily cuisine here in Chile, and at the university where we are studying, you can get Empanadas a few different places, usually for around $2 each! Because they are cheap and simple, the empanada has become a common lunch for me and the other people in my group. 

Some other observations about food in Chile: there really isn’t very much spice in the food here. While flavors are rich and good, I had thought there might be a bit more of a kick. There is one spice, however, that is quite popular called merquen. While many foods in Chile have been brought by European influence, merquen in a spice this is frequently used in the cuisine of the Mapuche, the indigenous people of the region.

Lastly, maracuyá (passionfruit, or in Hawaii where I grew up, lilikoi) is everywhere! In cheesecake, ice cream, drinks, etc. I was thrilled to discover this, and made Chile feel a bit more like home for me.

Salut!

I’m writing this relatively close to when I leave, which is sad to think about. I’ve become accustomed to life in Tours, and the time really did fly by since I’ve been here. I guess that all great things come to an end at some point, however.

There are two things I’d like to talk about in this blog post—one, my recent weekend trip, and two, some conceptions about the United States that some people I’ve talked to have. Let’s get into it!

Last weekend, I took a weekend trip to the south of France. I’d heard a lot about the south of France in my classes and from other people and some of the differences one might encounter there, so I was excited to see the cultural differences in place. I spent about two and a half days there and was able to visit three amazing places—Toulouse, Lourdes, and Carcassonne. Each place was wonderful and had its own charm!

I visited Toulouse first, also known as “The Pink City” (La Ville Rose) because of the distinctive pink/red bricks used in most of the buildings. I was able to see the Basilica of Saint-Sernin, the Convent of the Jacobins (where the relics of St. Thomas Aquinas are kept!), and other amazing sites. The food there was fantastic too! My favorite sight was probably the Capitole de Toulouse at night—it’s a magnificent building that’s lit up by red lights at night, giving it a magical air.

The next day, I went to Lourdes, which is home to the original Grotto. In that spirit, I made sure to wear my Notre Dame jacket! My short stay there was amazing; Lourdes is a tranquil place with beautiful architecture. They got rid of the famous baths due to COVID restrictions, but I still was able to do most of the major “must-dos” there. And, of course, I went to the Grotto!

Finally, I visited Carcassone, a massive medieval city next to Toulouse. The architecture is well-kept there, and my breath was taken away on my walk up the hill to the “Cité de Carcassonne,” the main area there. I was even able to walk along the walls and see the entire city sprawled in front of me from on top of the hill, which is a sight I don’t think I can ever forget. I’m so glad I was able to go on that trip! I’ve attached some pictures below.

For the second part of this blog, I’d like to talk about some preconceptions of Americans and the U.S. that some people I know here had. I’ll split it into three parts below. My overall takeaway was that American culture had a large sway over France and, likely, other parts of the world, as most of the answers I heard had to do with movies, songs, and other cultural marks. There were some differences, however:

My First Host Parents: I asked my first host parents (middle-aged French man and woman) about what they had heard about Americans, and what they thought of America. They talked about the idea that Americans love guns and country music, which I found interesting. They also spoke about the politics of America, which were apparently somewhat well-known in France, especially the presidencies. They found it surprising that politics were so divisive in America, which I thought made sense. Perhaps politics were less divisive when they were growing up!

Jules: Jules was a male French student–around the same age as me–at La Guinguette, a popular hangout spot on the Loire, especially for college students. When asked about what he thought of America, he said that he wanted to move there (specifically to California) and had a generally positive perception of America. He knew of the divisiveness of politics in America but seemed not to think too much of it, as he thought everywhere had divisive politics. He also talked a lot about American culture in the form of visual mediums like shows and movies, specifically referencing Pulp Fiction and Stranger Things. I thought that these comments were especially interesting, as movies and shows like that are popular among Americans our age, so perhaps the similarity in age influenced his perceptions of America.

My French Teacher: I asked my French teacher at the Institut de Touraine (male, around late twenties, early thirties) about what he thought of America after class one day, because the topic had come up during class that day. He had the most negative perception of America out of those I encountered. He mainly talked about some cultural stereotypes of Americans, like eating burgers and listening to country music. He specifically talked about his dislike of America’s current foreign policy towards France–he thought that even though the two were allies, France was not being respected in recent foreign policy. He did say, though, that he appreciated all of his students, regardless of their nationality. I was especially intrigued to hear a more outside perspective of American foreign policy and was grateful that he shared his honest insights.

And that’s it for this blog post–Thanks for reading!

Garrett

When learning a minority language such as Irish, it is easy to focus on how English has influenced it. A huge amount of vocabulary for new words, especially technology, is basically English transliterations- e.g. fón=phone. What has been educational about staying in Ireland for a month, however, is seeing how the Irish I have been studying effects the way Irish people speak Hiberno-English. There are two phrases that just about everybody uses that are wonderful examples of how Irish influences Irish people’s English, even if they don’t speak Irish themselves.

One of my favorite phrases in Irish is “tá Gaeilge agam,” which is how you say you speak Irish. However, if one were to directly translate this phrase it means I have Irish. It is beautiful in a way that Irish isn’t just something you speak, but something that is a part of you- something you possess. When Irish people are referring to what languages they speak in English, they will use this same structure, saying “I have Irish” or “I have French.” I don’t think I will use this phrase in English when I’m talking about being able to speak foreign languages, but I will use it when talking about Irish. I like the idea that Irish is uniquely something that’s a part of you, not a skill you have.

Another great example of Hiberno-English being directly pulled from Irish phraseology is the expression “he was giving out,” which means that he is scolding or chastising. This too is a directly translation of “ag tabhairt amach,” which is to be scolding. This is quite a funny expression to me because unless somebody told you, it would be pretty hard to guess the meaning of this expression. For this reason I don’t think I will use this expression simply because most people in the America would be pretty confused if I tried using this in English.

In a country like Ireland where most people can’t speak their own country’s first and native language, it’s amazing to see how Irish still permeates the culture and thought.

Although Ireland was once known for its overwhelming adherence to organized religion, the vast majority being Catholic, over the last 40 years the country has seen a plummet in the number of people who regularly attend church and more broadly those who have a belief in God which plays a role in their lives. As was explained to me by an Irish man, who like so many others was raised Catholic but holds no religion, Ireland has essentially become an agnostic or even atheist secular country. The marks of religion are everywhere: statues of the Blessed Virgin Mary in people’s windows, Christian symbols embedded in architecture and national imagery, but by and large the people aren’t religious. 

Living in Ireland for a month I can confirm the truth in these statements. Religious adherence is overwhelmingly generational, older people are far more likely to be practicing Catholics, and finding Irish people my age who are faithful is like trying to find a needle in a haystack. I have however come across some religious people, old and young, who explained to me how the situation looks from an Irish perspective. A consistent theme conveyed to me was that the modern Irish people saw leaving the Church as a way to finally throw off the shackles of a “backwards, out-of-date institution”; adhering to religion was a what they did in the old days when Ireland had a poor rural economy and to progress as a modern nation it was necessary to rid ourselves of this dinosaur. 

The majority having embraced secularism, those who remain in the Church have only a memory left of a time when Ireland was called the “land of saints and scholars.” Because of the perception of the Church as oppressive, young people who are religious are made fun of and ostracized for their devotion. One young man told me that if he ever expressed his faith around an audience of his peers he immediately would be a member of the “out-group,” and looked at it as a strange anomaly. 

As I mentioned in a previous blog many Irish speakers in the Gaeltacht tend to be older (and thus likely more religious), so I have seen week after week the state of religion in Ireland. Most Sundays I’m the youngest person in the church and the average age is about 75, with a smattering of a few people across a mostly empty church and a priest who would have retired a long time ago if there was anybody to replace him. I thought attendance was depressingly low back in the States, but compared to Ireland, church attendance in the U.S. looks like the promised land. Apparently I’m not the first to realize the stark contrast, and one young Irish man told me that those who are faithful among the young generations see the U.S. as “Catholic Disneyland”, a few of his friends even having moved to the States to marry women they had originally met online on Catholic dating sites, finding opportunities to date Irish girls who share their values few and far between. 

It is worth noting that some Irish speakers assign blame to the Church for the decline of the language with the criticism that it didn’t do enough to protect the language in the face of English Protestant oppression. While there certainly is truth in the claim that the Church could have done more, a professor at Notre Dame explained to me that during the 1800s, many of the Catholic clergy were from middle class merchant backgrounds and thus wouldn’t have had any Irish themselves.

Conversing with people of a minority group, practicing Catholics, has been informative about the similarities in experience between linguistic minorities and religious minorities particularly in terms of social exclusion.

“¡Qué papaya!” “¡Qué piña!” “¡Es la muerte!” “¡Es de ley!” You’re unlikely to find these phrases in a Spanish dictionary, but you’ll certainly hear them upon arriving in Peru. I have been in Cusco for less than a week, and these phrases have already come up in multiple conversations that I’ve had with the local cusqueños.

Peruvians are incredibly proud of the food they produce, and especially so of their fruit. During my first meal with my host mom, one of the first things we discussed were the many different types of fruit that Peru produces (avocado, papaya, pineapple, lúcuma, maracuyá, blueberries, strawberries, mango, cactus fruit, the list goes on), and during my first class the following morning, we spent a significant amount of time learning about the value of fruit in Peru, both culturally and economically. In this context, it was not surprising to learn that a few of the most common colloquial phrases used here are related to fruits. “¡Que papaya!” or “Es papayita” is used when something is super easy, be it homework, a chore, or a challenge posed by a friend. I’ve heard this phrase used by both my professor and some local students. “¡Qué piña!” is the other fruit-related phrase I’ve heard (piña being pineapple), and people say this when someone has suffered a bout of bad luck. For example, if you missed the bus to class (or got on a bus heading in the wrong direction), stepped in one of the presents left by the many dogs on the sidewalk, or had an activity canceled due to bad weather, a common response is “Qué piña!” I learned this phrase from my professor when she told me the story of an accident experienced by a past student. I definitely hope to put both of these phrases into practice – they’re super fun to say, and I’m also a big fruit lover.

Moving away from fruit phrases, “Es la muerte!” is used to describe something incredible or impressive, especially in terms of food or a good view. Going back to my first dinner with my host mom, when she was explaining to me the delicious fruit that Peru produces, she finished by saying “La fruta en Perú es la muerte!”—”The fruit in Peru is incredible!” The last Peruvian phrase I have learned so far is “Es de ley!”, which is used to describe something that is a must-do, can’t-miss opportunity. I learned this phrase from a tour guide who was showing me around Cusco, and when I asked him what a few things I should do before leaving Peru are, he said, “Hay muchas cosas que puedes hacer, pero ir a Machu Picchu es de ley”—”There are a lot of things you can do, but you absolutely have to go to Machu Picchu.” Like the fruit phrases, I’m working hard to integrate these “peruanismos” into my daily Spanish vocabulary; they’re short, fun to say, and allow me to express myself more like a native speaker. Learning Spanish in a classroom has its benefits, but interacting with natives has allowed me to pick up some new phrases that I otherwise wouldn’t have learned. Es la muerte!

Learning about what Irish people think about the sizable number of Americans who come to learn Irish has been eye-opening, as it has taught me a great deal about how the Irish see the language themselves. Because Irish is a minority language facing serious challenges in many traditionally Gaeltacht communities (economic stagnation, emigration, patchy intergenerational transmission), it inevitably evokes diverse feelings from people of varying perspectives. So many people have worked incredibly hard to achieve protection for the Irish language on the national level, whether it being made a mandatory subject in schools, or the illegality of monolingual English public signs. Many others have devoted themselves to preserving the Irish language in traditionally Irish speaking communities, as well as introducing it to English speaking areas. Despite this incredible push, however, Irish still remains on the periphery of most Irish people’s lives as it is simply not the language of discourse in its own country. 

This unfortunate lack of visibility has led many people to become indifferent to its plight as it has very little effect on their daily lives. Furthermore, poor Irish language education in the school system has led many students to discard it as pointless and useless, or even grow resentful because of its compulsory character. With this backdrop in mind, it is not hard to see why attitudes towards Americans coming in to learn Irish ranges from overjoyed, to confused, to negative. Many of the folks who work to preserve the language and pass it onto the next generation welcome the large number of Americans that have taken to learning the language for a variety of reasons. Many Americans they see come through have an interest based on heritage or a connection to the country, some are language lovers, and still others academics. Whatever the reason, many Irish speakers who may have been a bit confused at first, are joyful to see Americans tap into a sense of identity with the language that so many Irish school students never have. 

Other Irish people, both Irish speakers and English speakers, are still confused by Americans’ interest. I have met multiple school teachers who were mandatorily in the Gaeltacht to get certificates so they could retain their teaching qualifications, who simply could not understand why anybody outside of Ireland would ever have an interest in a language spoken by a small minority of speakers with no perceived promise of economic or social gain. After all, many of their own students couldn’t care less about the language, so why on earth would Americans?

Some, though seemingly a shrinking number, see Americans coming to learn Irish as dumb and a waste of time. I actually overheard a conversation wherein a man getting his PHD in Celtic Studies from Harvard was asked by a young Irish fellow “why are you wasting your life away?” Once again the lack of necessity inherent in minority languages, likely combined with some embarrassment at his own inability to speak the native language of his country, led him to have such a negative view of Americans taking an interest in Irish. 

These latter two categories of people (characterized by indifference or even hostility) would make me despair about being an American trying to access such an ancient and rich language, but fortunately those who are overjoyed to see Americans and other foreigners learning Irish outnumber the others in Gaeltacht communities and seem increasingly to be winning the battle to create a positive view of Irish.

Earlier today, I arrived at my new home in Sorrento after a draining three hour wait at the airport for our program transport. I was immediately struck by the incredible views from both apartment balconies: on one side, I could see the inland mountains, lush with trees and dotted with quaint Italian villas. On the other side, Mount Vesuvius stood majestically behind the sea and roofs of homes constituting downtown Sorrento; what incredible sights to see every morning!

After settling in, my roommates and I left our apartment in search of our first dinner. Whilst wandering through the cobbled streets, we saw a red-tiled staircase under an arch leading up to a gorgeous garden terrace restaurant, just off the bustling street – we had to go in! When we reached the top of the staircase, we were greeted by a waiter. Wanting to pass as a native speaker and distract from my redhead-pale skin and bright blonde hair – clear non-Italian-ness, I immediately said ‘tre persone per favore.’ This was met with an ‘ahh, good Italian! Follow me please.’

Despite my efforts throughout the meal, all my Italian received English responses. Not exactly what I was looking for when I came to another country to improve my language skills through immersion. And, this experience was not the only one. Most of the shops I went into spoke to me in broken English, rather than responding in Italian.

These experiences have showed me that continuing my language learning outside the classroom will be harder than I anticipated. I am going to have to blend in more with the culture if I want to be able to better blend in with the language. Although I am already at a disadvantage physically, if I find out more about the fashion, body language and mannerisms of Italians, I can still get closer to looking and acting more like them and getting the immersive experience I so badly want.