Winter, we meet again!

!Qué frío!

I find myself downstairs at half past seven on a day I don’t start work until four in the afternoon. Outside, my neighbours leave for work in intervals of five to ten minutes - dressed to the nines in hats, jackets and scarves. Our kettle continues to boil (we have a very slow kettle); that cup of tea couldn’t feel further away.

Why so high, air con unit?

 This is my third winter in Seville. You never know when it’s going to arrive but when it does, it arrives without warning. A fortnight ago, we had the air con on and the windows open to the dry the clothes. A fortnight ago I was still wearing t-shirts at night.

The kettle has finally decided to come to a boil. I leave the tea bag in. Go ahead and judge! No milk for me, ta. There are only a few things I can take UHT milk with.

Our flat has a problem - high walls. I would love to meet the person who decided to stick our air con unit as high as it is. Like most architecture in Andalusia, it wasn’t designed with winter in mind. On a heat setting, it’ll take at least an hour's running for any heat to make its way down to where I’m sitting. I’m sure the local gas and electric company would love that!

Winter can look deceptive at times...

I’ll be going for a walk later. I’ll take my jacket and maybe a scarf. Without humidity walking in the sun can get uncomfortable in layers, but step into the shade (of which you’ll find plenty between the narrow streets) the temperature can drop as much as 6 degrees. Trust me, the temperatures you see on the weather back home don’t look as hot as you think! If you are thinking of availing of the continued Ryanair flights to Seville over winter, I suggest you pack with this in mind!

And then there’s night. Working evenings have little advantages in winter. I’ll take you back to Tuesday. My route to work is generally exposed, and not in the shade. It was sunny. I didn’t need a jacket. I decided to wear a hoody, thinking it’d be good enough for later. Wrong. Cue an unpleasant, chilly walk home.

You’re probably reading this with little sympathy. Sure, sunshine remains, but winters here are missing something very important – humidity. I recall years ago watching the European weather at home. I remember comparing our weather to the Mediterranean, and lamenting the difference.  The only positive I can take from this is that it somewhat prepares you for the annual Christmas homecoming.

I wish it got colder a little more gradually. I wish my students would cover themselves when they cough thanks to newly picked up colds. Care to guess what I’m worried about next…?

Dusting off the cobwebs

I was asked quite a lot in the previous year, 'why are you not making videos anymore?' Certain factors played a part. Moving to a new city was one; finding my feet with my new neighbourhood and concentrating solely on my new job the other. In truth I never found the time to record, upload, cut, edit and repeat.

When I put my hand up to make a new recruitment video for my GAA team in Seville, I doubted myself initially. It felt like so long since I last opened Final Cut on my laptop. In my head I knew I just had to open it with a cup of tea one morning and all would be fine. It was just a case of doing just that!

I hope you enjoy the finished product!

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