Bray to Grey

I woke up not sure what I'd do today, but knowing I had a whole blank day. I went to the interwebz to see what was available. I was in familiar Dublin yesterday, so I wanted a new town, but something that was close enough for a full day's activities. I figured I'd go south to Bray or Greystones, two towns in County Wicklow on the southern end of the Dublin Bus system.Cari told me about some trails in that area before i left, so I took the bus to Bray to walk to Greystones along the trails. A morning highlihgt of the day was reading a section of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man on God's eternity while waiting in Cabinteely for the notoriously late 45 bus.

Bray is a gorgeous coastal town. It caters to Irish and international tourists, but I enjoyed walking along the simple boardwalk watching the sea, people, and architecture. The beach is small placed stones rather than sand or gravel. There are two way to hike from Bray to Greystones. One trail climbs up Bray Head, a hill with a large cross on top, and another trail runs along the cliffs with the sea off to the east. I first took the steep trail stright up the mountain. I did some backpacker's rock climbing towards the top like I haven't done since I scaled the Tooth of Time in Philmont, New Mexico. Then I continued south and downhill on the easier trails. Like the rest of my walks, I had gorgeous views, amazing weather, and tired legs towards the end.

Greystones is a nice small coastal town that had a farmer's market today. I took advantage of the luck and bought a brownie, loaf of multigrain bread, and rasperry jam. I had my lunch on the shore near two father-son pairs who skipped stones off towards the horizon. The walk home along the cliffs was great. It's another experience bette expressed in photographs than in words.

Saturday in the Park

Friday night I met some of the H-Dips at Padraic's house. The five of us and Padraic's friend Derek shared a great evening in his living room. Then we head out in a taxi to Copper's. Don't ask me where we were. I got into the taxi and got out when I was told to. This was the Dublin clubbing scene that was dramatized in Rough, a Trinity University production that was one of the better shows I saw as part of the Fringe Festival. The lighting was dim and smoky. The club music was similar to that in America. The prices seemed high enough to exist outside this recession-driven culture.

Saturday I woke up and after some research decided to go catch a show in city centre. Fortunately/unfortunately my bus got to the city too late and I ended up wandering Dublin for the day. I saw a Caravaggio! Whoa! I was going to take it home for Gail, but it would not have fit into my bag. It was in a room called "Caravaggio and His Followers." It contained a lot of artists who played with light and chiaroscuro. There were several images of singers holding candles. One painting showed the light filtered through the trees hitting a few folks on a bench. Most of this room was, of course, Biblical in nature.

I actually got to the National Gallery by accident. I was going to get tickets for a play, but I got to the city too late because I had just missed a 145 into town. Instead I got off at the park with the Oscar Wilde statue, nicknamed the "fag on the crag." I wandered around the park and then head for city centre. A block later I'm in front of the National Gallery and figure what the hell. There was an exhibition of Munch prints that I really enjoyed. I got some of my souvenir shopping done and headed home.

H is for H-Dip

I've referenced several times that the other student teachers whith whom I am working are not "student teachers" as Americans commonly understand them. These other people who are not-quite-teachers like myself are called "hired diplomas" or "H-Dips." H-Dips have already completed three years at a university and hold bachelor's degrees in English, history, biology, etc. Now they work mornings at Blackrock College teaching one to three classes by themselves, a sort of trial by fire, if high school can be compared to a expository conflagration (no comment). They then take classes in the evenings at a university, specifcially University College Dublin for the students I know. They will continue this pattern for the whole school year. On their first day at Blackrock they had not taken their educaiton classes yet. Their lectures in the evenings cover methods, educational psychology, and the other education classes needed to gain their "hired diploma," a form of master's degree. This leads to a very busy year, because they are leading class in the mornings, going to lectures in the evenings, and then preparing lessons for tomorrow. Repeat about 180 times.

My program what I gather is a fairly typcail American student teaching experience. I have been in charge of John's first period second year (8th grade) class since the second day. I prepare the lesson plans, lead the classes, and reflect in my portfolio journal. This is "my class." I still work within John and Ireland's system, because it is what the boys are used to and what they will return to once I am passed and fully gone away. After first period I shadow John when he has class. I sit and watch when there is not much I can do to help. I get up and participate or lead then the opportunity arises, which is becoming more and more frequent.

My tendency is now to have you fill out a Venn diagram or give you a few oral response questions, but I'll let you get away without homework tonight.