Embarking on a new challenge

Every year it's like a broken record. Every year it's the same cod's whollop.

• Top tips to study for your Leaving Cert. Johnny Studyalot, who got 10 A1s, gives his advice. 
• Getting the best out of your CAO.
• Give it lash, but it's not the end of the world if you don't get the results you aim for. 

The last of the three hits home the most. Out of my three core subjects, I attempted two at a higher level, and dropped my Irish out of laziness and a desire to focus on other subjects. I ended up with an A2 in that and in my naïvety waved goodbye to studying the language I had little or no good memories of. Eight years later, that decision has now come back to bite. 

Despite having a Honours Degree in Journalism with a French, I unfortunately don't hold the level of the language required to do a Masters in post-primary education in Ireland. Since moving to Spain, Spanish has been my second language. French meanwhile has been thrown into row Z of my brain's vast filing system.

I have been presented with two options. One: restart my French studies and aim to sit a CEFR Level B2 in order to apply for a Masters in Post-Primary Education. Two: go back to studying Gaeilge and resit my Leaving Certificate and go down a post-primary route.

I have asked myself: do I want to teach French? Would I be happy to teach it? The answer frankly is no. I just see myself more suited to Primary Education, as it allows to teach and develop with a variety of subjects. 

And so begins my latest challenge. Can I shake off the cobwebs and horrific memories of learning Irish in my childhood and adolescence? Can I study from Spain via distance learning and eventually better my result from 2009? Downloading Duolingo and enrolling in a Cursaí with Conradh na Gaeilge in August is hopefully just the start. 

This is my latest challenge, and I hope to document as much as possible. You the reader are more than welcome to join!   

An ode to Marchena's Molletes

Mollete, (N), a typical ciabatta-style bread made and enjoyed for breakfast.

I was introduced to this delightful breakfast last year by some of my former students - who have now become my good friends. I was curious to see if the mollete was the same in every restaurant/café i.e would they use the same toppings, would it be baked any differently. In fact, many restaurants in Marchena recommended their mollete with a certain topping, be it ajo rallado (grated garlic) and aceite de oliva (olive oil), jamón serrano or the local salmorejo (a bread-based Andalusian purée).

For this, I decided to take my phone out and record the experience. The below video became so popular, that the local Ayuntamiento (Town Hall) used it throughout their social media to try and aid tourism for Marchena. Enjoy!  

Finding GAA in Emigration

I have often been asked why I never played GAA growing up. The answer was simple: I never went to schools that embraced it. Every summer I became a fan, but once the All Ireland Finals were over, that was me done again for eight months.

But that recently changed.

When I decided to emigrate to Spain for a more stable work life teaching English, I wondered how long would it take me to settle. Knowing I’d have a solid job in a small town outside Seville before I left in September had me in a positive frame of mind, but I knew I would need to balance work with a social life.

I was nervous in the weeks before departing. Emigrating with a partner or in a group to an English-speaking country is one thing. Emigrating alone to a place where you don’t understand the language is another.

I had seen friends before me leave for other countries and manage to settle abroad. Many of them joined sports clubs to have something to do on the side.

“Why not see if they have a GAA club?” a former colleague asked me before I left. The thought never crossed my mind. One search for “GAA in Seville” yielded three words: Éire Óg Seville.

My journey to Éire Óg began as soon as I arrived, just in time for the All Ireland Finals - the height of the club’s social season. I decided to make the first move, and contact them via Facebook. A few messages later, I had arranged to meet up with them on the Sunday of the fooball final. It was time I introduced myself.

Handicapped by data roaming restrictions, I armed myself with a screen grab of a route to walk from the train station to the Merchant, a popular Irish pub and meeting point for Éire Óg.

“I’ve never kicked a Gaelic football in my life,” I said when I arrived, but I was assured this wouldn’t be a problem, and I was invited along to a training session to have a go for myself.

Since then, I’ve been attending every Sunday morning. It may be only one day a week, but it gives me a social outlet and something to look forward to every weekend, as well as a fix from the auld sod that many of us Irish emigrants need from time to time.

There is a mix of competitiveness and fun during training and tournaments against other GAA clubs in Spain, which is complimented by a host of social activities off the pitch. The club’s membership includes Irish, English, Welsh, Americans and local Sevillians.

Within a few short months, I feel remarkably settled. Before leaving, I knew I had to give myself until Christmas at the very least to decide whether Spain was for me. Thanks in part to Éire Óg, I don’t have any immediate plans to move home. 

Story originally published in The Irish Times: http://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/generation-emigration/gaa-gives-me-the-fix-from-the-auld-sod-many-emigrants-need-1.2018619

September 2014: Change for the better...

OUR PLAN IS working. We’ve turned a corner.’

So said the late Minister for Finance Brian Lenihan when delivering his budget to the Dáil back in December 2009. Having just started a four-year course in DIT, it did make me slightly hopeful.

‘If we’re supposedly turning the corner heading into 2010, surely it’ll be even better come 2013/14!’’ I thought. Unfortunately, we only began to turn the corner just as I entered my final year.

I was proud to finish the one and only college course I had signed up for. I was proud that I attained a degree without repeating a single module. I was proud that I had a piece of paper that maybe, just maybe, would allow me to further myself in my field of study without the thought of doing a masters.

Then harsh reality set in. ‘We would like to offer you an internship.’ ‘Fantastic’, I thought to myself. ‘A chance to prove myself and perhaps be kept on!’ Then came the sticking point.‘Unfortunately we will be unable to offer you payment for the duration of the internship.’This was, of course, to become a recurring theme.

As interesting some of the internships I did were, the lack of payment never made things easier. Even if I managed to network my way into paid freelance opportunities, I struggled to break even. Eventually, I joined the masses at the local social welfare office and managed to keep up my unpaid work, wishing and hoping for a lucky break that would lead to a steady flow of income. It never arrived.

‘Do I really have to keep doing this until I get the required three years’ experience most job adverts state?’

It was at that point, nearly a year after finishing college that I decided to put my skills to better use and work to get a TEFL certificate. I initially wanted to do Primary Education, but was put off it around the time of the CAO deadline due to a poor forecast in that particular sector. Maybe with real life experience, I’ll return to that option down the line.

TEFL instantly opened doors for working abroad and gaining experience in a whole new environment; experience that I’d like to use back home down the line. It could be a year from now, it could easily be more. When I got the call of a job offer teaching in a state school in southern Spain for the academic year I accepted on the spot. I didn’t even need to call back following a chance to think it over.

We as a nation talk of emigration as a bad thing. Any time you see a report on the subject, it often takes a more negative angle. One moment we’re getting into trouble, other times we’re lamenting for a pack of Tayto and a cup of Barry’s like you’d swear it was the end of the world.

We as a demographic have offered the world so much as a diaspora, and if I can keep a video diary in the process to prove just that, what harm?

Published originally on thejournal.ie: http://www.thejournal.ie/readme/emigrant-story-ireland-1696570-Sep2014/