Munich & Ireland's Unlucky Week

So, it's been an interesting few weeks since I last updated. They involved a country where English was not spoken (and no, I'm not talking about Ireland this time!) and an epic flood. But I'm getting ahead of myself now.

My first two weeks after leaving the island (for a tiny nearby island within the same country) were fairly uninteresting because of tests and essays and things like that. There was another exciting weekend filled with super-fun activities like grocery shopping at Tesco! And then there were more papers to write, by which I mean avoid. But then something actually cool happened: I went to Munich!
Right before I went, I realized a few things:
a) Although I'd lived abroad for three months, I hadn't left Ireland yet. Unless you count Northern Ireland, which I don't really because you don't even need a passport! There aren't signs! It's the same island, and come on, half of the Republic goes shopping there.
b) This would be my first time navigating an airport alone.
c) This would be my first time in a non-English-speaking country. You know, if we're not counting Ireland.
You may not know it, but the truth is that they don't actually speak English in Cork. The “southern accent” is mocked by figures ranging from Dublin cab drivers to Joyce, and even after more than three months here occasionally I will listen to someone and not understand a single word. If you do not believe me, watch a movie filmed in Cork (like The Wind that Shakes the Barley) and then imagine that accent in the mouth of a normal person, not an actor. Pretty incomprehensible. Now you're probably thinking, “Just because they say 'grand' and 'you're very welcome' and all sorts of strange words like 'hurley stick' and apparently never learned that there are multiple spellings of 'there' doesn't mean they don't speak English.” Okay, fair enough, but I have anecdotes to disprove you. These both come from Irish, where our teacher has a very thick accent:
A typical spoken Irish class: My friend, who draws a lot during class, is asked by the teacher to draw a scene on the board. Then, we spend the entire hour describing the scene using very basic IrishTeacher: Draw a board.
Student: A board?
Teacher: Yes, a board.
Student: I'm drawing on a board... why would there be a board in this picture?
Teacher: You know, a BOARD.
The teacher then draws a “v” shape on the board.
Student: Oh, a BIRD!
Or, the next Irish class:
Teacher: Seán is eating.
Class: Tá Seán ag ithe.
Teacher: Seán is drinking.
Class: Tá Seán ag ól.Teacher: Seán is walking.
Class: Tá Seán ag siúl.
Teacher: Seán is walking.
Class: Tá Seán ag siúl.
Teacher: No, Seán is WALKING. Tá Seán ag obair.
Class: Ohh, he means WORKING.
I know, these kinds of problems come up all the time in language classes. (Although it's pretty likely that our teacher is a native English speaker...) The next example does not have the same defense. From a very professional email our history teacher sent out about returning our essays:
“PS Message to all French students – if your mob beat Ireland tomorrow night I’m failing the bleddy lot of yiz…”
This teacher is from England, so I have no explanation. Also, we will return to this email later...
Anyway, back to my German adventure. As you probably know, I am a very unlucky person (or perhaps incompetent, or entirely deserving because of bad karma – I prefer my interpretation). Couple this with Ireland, where I believe Murphy's Law exerts a stronger force, and you will understand how I could be unaware of daylight savings time for two days and have so many 9 am classes. Of course, this bad luck would have to manifest when it comes to my exciting adventure.
Long story short: the day before my flight, I did online check-in, only to discover that I couldn't print my boarding pass; the company with which I had reserved my taxi kept calling me when I was in class or sleeping, saying that I needed to “confirm” I needed it, despite multiple confirmation emails I sent; I needed cash but all the ATMs were broken; and I couldn't find my student ID card anywhere. I was convinced that my taxi wouldn't show up and I would miss my flight. In the event that my taxi did get me to the airport, I probably couldn't pay for it, and then I wouldn't be allowed on the flight anyway. Oh, and even if I somehow managed to get to Germany, I would most likely be forbidden to reenter Ireland because I couldn't prove I was an actual student. Thankfully, I worried over nothing, and after navigating the smallest airport ever (only eight or nine gates!) and having something called “white coffee,” which is really the only evidence you need that you shouldn't drink coffee in Ireland, I was on my way to Germany!

I must admit that my expectations for Germany were ridiculously high. It's Europe! To be honest, I imagined Munich to be the wonderful, glamorous opposite of Ireland. All of the things that had started to bother me about Ireland – terrible public transportation, such laid back people, some really unfortunate architecture, and the lack of trees – would be just the opposite there. And how right I was! Even from the plane, the fields looked more organized and stereotypically German. There were forests! I could even see the Alps in the distance. Walking through the city with Amber, I marveled at the beautiful architecture and sophistication. All the upscale shops! (Seriously, though, is everyone rich in Munich? Because everything was so expensive and classy, for blocks and blocks). Crazy elaborate glockenspiels! Fancy palaces and treasures! And a ridiculous amount of chocolate shops. I had an amazing laugh when Amber thought Latin was German, which she will never ever live down. Oh, and they actually had an Apple store. I wondered why I had gone to Ireland at all (you know, besides the language barriers and things like that).

Anyway, all that was just Friday. On Saturday, we awoke early for our trip to Neuschwanstein! In case you don't know, this is the castle Disney used as his model. It's the original fairytale castle in the Alps. Our day began inauspiciously with the epic pants story. I would share but it's truly Amber's tale to tell and I think she made me promise I wouldn't tell it. Anyway, after eating a very bizarre hostel-take on German breakfast, which involved lunch meat and Kaiser rolls and weird stuff like that, we went on our ten-hour tour of Bavaria. It was so amazing that I could hardly believe it.

The two castles we saw were ridiculously beautiful and being in the Alps was incredible. It was a bit like being in a postcard, a bit surreal. Our tour guide was wonderful and had the funniest fake-English expressions. Also, I want to befriend King Ludwig II, who built the castles. Basically, if you want more details you will have to ask me in person, because this entry would be way too long if I included them all. Just know that we saw lots of great romanticized German things, and they were awesome. Unfortunately, we had to return to Munich and leave the fairytale land. We explored this awesome department store that had everything from an upscale grocery store to traditional German clothing, walked around the city, and ate Middle Eastern food! As much as I liked German food, it is really very heavy and filling and we wanted something a little different (also, I don't think Amber could've taken another meal of schnitzel).

Amber left early Sunday morning, as she has to actually show up to her classes in Italy. That left me alone in the city. Of course, the first thing I did was get lost. It was entirely unintentional but perhaps unsurprising, as I was just wandering around and taking pictures of interesting things, of which there are many. My general goal was the English garden, which I'd heard was very cool. I ran into an American who worked with the Department of Education and helped her find her hotel near the English garden. Or so I thought.... after walking around the park for twenty minutes, it turned out it was actually a different park. By the time I made it to the English garden, it was drizzly and very depressing weather. I decided to make my way to the Alte Pinakothek, the big art museum in Munich. I had sushi on the way which was way too expensive but worth it, since I hadn't eaten Japanese food since August. The museum was very cool but since I got lost I didn't have as much time to explore it as I would've liked.

The next morning, I was off to Ireland again. I really loved Munich – although my last day was a little bit less fun, mostly because I was alone and the weather became awful – and was sad to leave. My three days there left me a bit confused as to how a city could be responsible for fairytale castles and Hitler, organized and prompt trains and beer halls. I felt like I needed more time to understand everything, and maybe a German language book as well.

On the way back to Cork, the strangest thing happened. Maybe it was my first glimpse of the sun in several days; maybe it was reading Joyce's The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

and by chance reaching the section where Stephen visits Cork with his father and Mr. Dedalus reminisces about growing up there; or maybe it was hearing a language I understood once more: but I realized that I was so happy to come back to Cork! It felt like coming home. Which is really just problematic, because if you've got two homes you're homesick no matter what. It was so unexpected. After all my complaining about everything, I realized that I needed to leave to get a little bit of perspective. I love how small and unpretentious Cork is, how its main street is filled with discount stores like Dunnes and Penney's, not just designer names; how the people are so friendly and laid back, and strangers really will talk to you in pubs or in class; and even how they don't have fairytale castles, just crumbling stone castles all over the countryside.

And so I was back in Cork! It was a beautiful afternoon, marred only by the notice that a UCC student had been missing for several days. This was the beginning of what I will call Ireland's bad luck streak. The weekend I was gone, there had been bad storms and four students at NUIG (National University of Ireland Galway) had been killed in a car accident. And yes, if you are wondering, deaths from car accidents are national news here. The ten-day weather forecast said ten days of rain. On Wednesday, Ireland had a qualifying soccer match against France. It looked like Ireland would win – until the last moment, when an illegal hand ball scored a goal for France and knocked Ireland out of the running. I had stopped watching the game at that point, but knew that they had lost by the groans and yells that came simultaneously from all around the dorm. The next day was even more ridiculously rainy and miserable. I dragged myself to English and got completely soaked despite my umbrella. Probably only about ¼ of the class had showed up, though whether this was because of the disappointing soccer match or the weather or some combination of the two, I wasn't sure. I stayed on campus and it continued to rain through studying in the library, my two classes, and the English society meeting (where, once again, very few people showed up). Rain in Ireland, what a surprise, right? We headed over to the Cricket club, where the field and path were covered in puddles, and went inside. One of my contacts had been driving me crazy so I had taken it out, leaving me with terrible vision and, consequently, a bad headache. I decided to leave early because of my head and because one of the guys in the society said that the weather was just getting worse. I said I wanted to avoid getting completely soaked, to which they sarcastically wished me luck. Oh, how right they were.

Just leaving the club, my feet became drenched as the field was now covered in water. But hey, that happens sometimes when it rains a lot. As I walked home, I noticed that there were some

pretty enormous puddles. Laughing at students across the street who were trying to navigate around a huge pond of water, I congratulated myself for choosing the right side of the road. I got to one of the bridges leading to my dorm and looked at the church parking lot next to the river – which was completely covered in water. The River Lee had spilled over into it. Wow, I thought. Then, when I got over the bridge, I realized that my side of the road was covered in water. I crossed the street and... the road was completely submerged. Several students were there, trying to decide how to return to their dorms. We decided just to wade across. And so I waded through two and a half feet of ice cold flowing water, finally emerging on top of the bridge, only to see that I would need to go through the water again. Crowds of students had gathered to see the flooded roads. Already, Victoria Lodge, the dorm nearest mine, had a completely flooded entrance. But of course, all I cared about was getting a warm shower and sleeping off my

headache.

The next morning, I awoke for my classes. I absently wondered whether there would still be any water. Oh, how wrong I was.

Heading outside, I discovered that I literally could not get to campus without completely soaking myself as the water had in fact increased. Just leaving my building required wading through several inches of water, as in the night it had continued to rain and the garage and lower level of the dorm had flooded. Had I ventured into the town (I didn't, which I somewhat regret now), I would've seen that all the roads were underwater. We gradually learned that our internet was down, but at least we had electricity (unlike some of the dorms); that the water pumping plant had been contaminated so we weren't supposed to drink the water; and that classes had been closed for the day (Friday) but also for all of next week. Apparently, it was the worst flooding in 800 years. Don't ask me how they came up with that number. Still, it was definitely a pretty chaotic situation. As you can see, things have mostly settled now – I have internet again, and even went into the city centre on Monday. Hopefully it doesn't flood again.

Oh, and I'm going to Paris on Friday! I almost wish that things would be less interesting. But not really. Now I have a cool story and a week off. Awesome.