Have just come back to my old blog at random and discovered it{s still getting hits. These may be random spam bots but for any real live people who are wondering what I{m up to, I{ve moved my blog to www.melbourneishome. Come and join me on my adventures in Central and South America !
As part of my pre-trip planning I bought a Teach Yourself Spanish book, complete with two CDs of dialogues. I diligently worked my way through the first three chapters and felt ready for some real life practice. Talking along with the voices on my ipod is not quite the same, but I don’t know any one who speaks Spanish.
When I meet a patient who comes from Mexico, I can’t help being a bit excited. And although we have already exchanged greetings and names in English, I do it again, this time in Spanish. At this point she laughs, willing to go along with it. I am encouraged, despite having already reached my limit. All I have left are questionably useful phrases and the ability to count to ten.
“Tengo una reservacion”
is the first useful phrase that comes into my head. “Useful”, as it happens, is quite setting-dependent. “I have a reservation” is not particularly useful in this setting. She looks at me, still laughing but shaking her head and saying nothing. I think she’s probably looking for the words for
“I have a contraction, could we do something about that do you think?”
I get on with putting her epidural in. I give the explanation in English because I have not yet come across the useful phrase
“Keep still. I’m about to put a very big needle in your back”.
Ok not useful in every situation but surely at least as useful as,
“La oficina esta al final del pasillo.
(The office is at the end of the passage), or
“A que hora tomas el desayuno normalmente?”
(What time do you normally have breakfast?)
But the beauty of teaching yourself is that you decide when you have mastered the grammar and vocabulary and are ready to move on. Chapters Four and Five have nothing to hold my interest. In chapter Six I memorise the key phrase,
“Quiero dos kilos des zanahorias”
(I would like two kilos of carrots) . Then I flick to Chapter Eleven which makes me a little apprehensive. Among the useful phrases in this chapter are,
“Podria repararme este neumatico?”
(Could you repair the tyre?) followed by
“Possiblement se trata de una infeccion. No creo que se nada serio.”
(It’s probably an infection, I don’t think it’s serious.)
An overly vivid imagination leads my mind off on a tangent where I would actually need these phrases and I realise I do not have the self-discipline for this. As an introduction it is valuable but I think conversational Spanish is best learnt by actually conversing with people. So my plan is to arrive in Guatemala and head straight to Antigua where there are lots of homestays and Spanish language schools. (Any recommendations from people who’ve been before gratefully received) That means, I’ll just need to navigate my way through the airport. I learn one more useful phrase which I hope not to hear.
“Estas situaciones ocurren a veces, pero normalmente el equipaje aparece uno o dos dias despues.
( This happens from time to time, but normally the luggage turns up after a day or two)
Every email, every SMS, every facebook update from home, is telling me about Melbourne’s heatwave. Thanks to the internet, I know that as I write this at three am Melbourne time its still 28 C. I’m sure it’s awful, I’m sure no one is sleeping and every one’s grumpy, but right now I can’t remember what 30C feels like, let alone 43C or was it 44C. I do have -30C in my recent memory, and am hunching my body into the foetal position just thinking about it. So I thought I’d offer some helpful advice for coping with the heatwave, illustrated with some of my recent photos.
1. Go for a drive in the climate controlled environment of your car.
2. Enjoy a cooling sea breeze at the beach.
3. Go for a walk in the late afternoon once it’s cooled down a little.
4. Make the most of the absence of rain and marvel at how nature adapts to the harsh environment
.
And finally,
5. Make hay while the sun shines for you never know what’s around the corner.
Thinking of you, and hope you are not sweltering too much. I’m sorry I can’t be wishing for cooler weather for you, as I’ll be there in two weeks and I can’t wait to feel too hot!
I’ve been trying all week to write about the fog that is enveloping the city but it seems to be enveloping my brain as well. Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words, I certainly like this better than what I’ve been writing.
We should have guessed. We should have guessed when we got an email saying the room wouldn’t be booked until each of us had provided details of our air tickets into JFK. We should have guessed when the next email arrived saying we had to pay for the full weeks accommodation, in cash only, on the day we arrived. Or when the next email said that we weren’t to tell anyone that we were paying to stay in the apartment, but that we were simply “friends” of Mary K. Renting an apartment in New York is a much cheaper form of accommodation than the hotels. Some apartments are all yours, some are B and B type affairs with friendly hosts and some, like ours, are a place to sleep.
It didn’t really dawn on me what we’d signed up for ten or fifteen minutes into our stay. The first eight minutes after we’d knocked on the door, were spent standing outside the door, while Mary finished her phone call. We then commenced the guided tour, which consisted of a detailed reenactment of how to close doors quietly, how to turn off the heater, which she was sure we wouldn’t need to turn on anyway, and which dim bulb would be left on for us when we came in at night, which we were then to turn off immediately. We progressed through to the kitchen where she showed us how to microwave a cup of tea. Bec hesitantly said perhaps she’d prefer coffee but couldn’t she decide in the morning, rather than twelve hours before. No, said Mary stoutly, she would make the coffee before she went to bed and she didn’t want to be making coffee that went to waste. After showing us where at the table she sat, the head, and where we would sit, (our seats had towel covers over them) she said, Well, I expect you’ll be going out now won’t you? And in spite of the fact that it we’d spent twelve hours in transit, that there was a snowstorm outside and what I really wanted was a nice cup of non-microwaved tea, out we went. Because you don’t come to New York to stay in your hotel room. You come to see the sights,
and the Christmas lights,
and to meet the people.
*This is a “They Might Be Giants” song” which was playing in my head the ENTIRE trip replaced only intermittently in the Subway stations with Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girl”!
Awoke today to a still white world and wondered. New Year’s Day holds promise that other days simply can’t and beneath that blanket of snow, lies the endless possibility of renewal. And I realise over the last couple of weeks of living in this unfamiliar environment how it has changed me. I can’t hurry along in my usual way, my mind far ahead of my body. For unless I place my feet deliberately, the snow, ice or slush will make me fall. Slowing down, I can offer an arm to those less agile than me. I can share a joke with those shoveling snow off the footpath, or smile at other pedestrians as we sink into snow that hasn’t been cleared. Instead of bemoaning the rain at the bus stop, I can marvel at the beauty and symmetry of the snowflakes as they fall. I wouldn’t choose these extreme conditions but no one has actually given me the choice. I have been forced to change and I think it has been positive.
So those will be my goals for this year. To accept life’s gradual unfolding, railing less against things I have no power over. To be conscious of the path that I am walking and where my feet are falling. To maintain a sense of wonder of this wide and wild world and be open to the people I meet along the way. Happy New Year, to friends old and new. I wish you a wonderful 2009.
There is an oft quoted urban myth about the Inuit having four hundred words for snow. This week in Vancouver, I have learned a few of my own. First, and most importantly, we have “skiable”. Then, a close runner-up, we have “photogenic”. The rest, are all four letter words.
Cold, damp and slow would best describe my progress to work this morning.
“It never snows in Vancouver ” I was told.
Then the statement was refined a little.
“Well, it does snow, but it always rains after so it doesn’t stay for long.”
We’ve now had snow on the ground for nearly a fortnight and as I write this, it’s still falling outside. Apparently this is the biggest dump since 1969, so it’s not just the foreigners who find it foreign. While I’ve been on plenty of skiing holidays, it’s quite different to actually live in the midst of the white stuff. Read the rest of this entry »
Request denied.
Request denied.
The rejected individual is absorbed by the crowd which surges forward, each person desperate to plead their case. Only a thin cord physically separates the “haves” from the “have nots” but it is easy to imagine the chasm which truly exists. The “haves” saunter down a rich red carpet, behind a closed door and on to destinations exotic and unknown. The “have nots” go nowhere, dejected, afraid to move and burdened with possessions. Most are too exhausted to be noisy, they simply stand and wait, hoping some one will take pity on them. Each has a story which is unique, and yet identical to that of every one else.
My name is called. I can’t help a victorious “Yesss!” escaping from my mouth and I rush to the red carpet. I’ve been accepted! But then… No, No. It can’t be. A large woman in uniform blocks my way. I’m not one of the chosen at all, merely selected for extra questioning. She leans over me, so far into my personal space I have to arch backwards. I’m off balance but I refuse to remove my feet from the red carpet, as if their physical presence will somehow sway her decision. She barks a question at me.
“Do you have a connecting flight?”
“Yes, Yes! I do. I’m going to Vancouver” I say, too quickly, in my nervous excitement.
“Well, the computer says you’ve made the reservation, but we don’t have you on the passenger list. You know, if we put you on this plane, you’ll just get stuck in Chicago if you’re not on the passenger list for Vancouver”.
“But look, I have a boarding pass for Vancouver, with a seat number, look.”
“You’ve got what? Where did you get that? Here, let me take a look at it.”
I hand over my boarding pass from Chicago to Vancouver, seat 15C, as well as my boarding pass from New York to Chicago, no seat allocation, please check at the gate. She examines both as if I am attempting to pass counterfeit money, then takes them to the desk to discuss with someone else. I wait, in no man’s land, while the last remaining “haves” file past me and the “have nots” glare at me, competition for any remaining seats.
A third woman comes out to the counter. Potential passengers push forward again, eager to plead their case before a new set of ears. She takes a deep breath and says to the expectant crowd,
“I am just the messenger, OK.”
We wait.
“The plane is overbooked. No one who has an allocated seat is volunteering to give up their seat which means that those who do not yet have a seat allocated, will not be able to get on this flight. All the flights for this afternoon are already fully booked. You will be rebooked onto a flight, tomorrow at the earliest…
The previously subdued crowd suddenly becomes much more what I would expect of a New York mob, screaming and swearing at the woman burdened with sharing this message. As questions flit through my mind “Where am I going to stay?”, “What if I can’t get home tomorrow?”, I barely register the woman handing back my boarding passes. Then she says to me,
“Congratulations, you’ve got the last seat on the plane, and you’ve got an upgrade too.”
That seat, with those “premium economy” five extra inches of legroom is the best gift I’ve received this Christmas.
