I have officially spent a month in Florence and have about two and a half months left to go! Though I am still getting over a cold I caught two weeks ago, I am still enjoying myself. The highlight of this past weekend was being able to spend a day in Munich, Germany for Oktoberfest. I have always enjoyed the county fairs back home, so experiencing this was similar to a very, very large fair with tons of people. There were rides and more food stands than I could count! It did get cold, but it was a great opportunity to attend an iconic event and explore Munich a little bit. I also got to go on a ferris wheel for the first time, it is pretty neat that it was in Germany. I also joined something at my school called Italian family club, and was matched with a family! It is a really neat way to spend time with locals in Florence and learn more about the culture firsthand. I have already had dinner with them and plan to spend more time with them throughout the term! I am hoping this will also be a good opportunity to practice my Italian language skills. Hopefully I will have more to say about this next week as well. It is hard to believe that I first arrived here a month ago. While it feels like I have been here forever, somehow it also feels like I just got here. I have experienced so much and yet have so much more exploring left to do!

Ciao for now!

The days have become weeks and the weeks are slowly turning into months on this adventure of a lifetime. Costa Rica continues to amaze me with all its beautiful beaches, where I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing the most beautiful sunsets that I have ever seen. The past month has been filled with completing an advanced conversation Spanish course, visiting the national soccer stadium for a friendly game (Costa Rica vs Uruguay) exploring different parts of the country (where we were able to kayak and see bioluminescent lights in the ocean) , horse back riding, waterfalls, hikes, visiting Panama, and experiencing Costa Ricas independence day like a true local.

As the first month is coming to a close, I start my second month at my internship with Fundacion Rahab and I can already tell that it will be an experience that I will remember for many years to come. Being placed at the child care center these past couple of days has given me an enormous amount of gratitude for people that are able to be so patient with children and watch over them as their own.

The food is good, the people are friendly, and the adventures continue.

Until next time! 🙂

My second blog post in three days! Each day is packed with so many new things that it feels like a week has gone by.

Last night, me and my two roommates, Lauren and Rebecca, went to an area of Quito called La Ronda for dinner. While there, we stopped at the Plaza de San Francisco. Words can’t describe how beautiful it was. The picture is blurry and doesn’t do it justice, but it’s too cool not to show.

While there, we realized everyone was interested in getting as much money out of us “gringas” as possible. Taxi rides that should have been $2 were given to us no cheaper than $6. Even if we explained we knew that was too expensive, we could never bargain cheaper than $5. If we argued, our ride would drive off. While eating dinner, we listened to amazing live music (with a $6 cover charge I may add. I highly doubt the locals were paying that, but it was worth it.). During dinner I had my first epenada…AMAZING. Something less amazing that I also tried was cow liver. I know now that it would have been extremely difficult to be a vegetarian in this country, because all their meals are surrounded by meat and grains. However, it’s definitely difficult to have meat at least twice a day. I’ve learned to not ask what meat I’m eating, or what part of the animal it comes from, and everything works out just fine. I applaud them for using every bit of the animal and not letting any go to waste.

Today was my first day of Spanish classes. 7 hours! I forgot my sunglasses this morning and on the fifteen minute walk to class my eyes got sunburnt! So all day my eyes have been burning like crazy. I should have realized it could happen that fast, Ecuador is 2 miles closer to the sun than Oregon.

On our break we stopped at a market for lunch. Here, we got to try traditional “almuerzos.” For $2.25 you got a glass of freshly made juice (today’s was cantaloupe), a large bowl of soup, then a plate filled with rice, your choice of meat, lettuce, tomatoes, avocado, and some sort of homemade pickle. The soup I like the most so far has a cheese broth with homemade noodles, potatoes, seasonal vegetables, and cilantro. They also bring out homemade hot sauce you can add to the soup-so good! I decided I wasn’t ready to try the cow’s feet soup just yet.

When we walked into the tightly filled market and it’s food court, one of the waitresses kicked out some locals from a table so our big group could fit. I’m guessing they assumed we would be spending a lot of money, but either way this didn’t make us the most popular group sitting down for lunch. I felt really bad once I realized what had happened.

While we were eating, a little boy no more than 7 years old came up and begged for food. Before we could react, our Spanish teacher shooed him away. Although we had plenty of food to offer, we have been told not to give away food or money. According to our mentors, the minute you give out food or money, you are never left alone by all those in need. Still, I’m almost wondering if it’s worth it. I think the most difficult thing this far in the trip was denying a child food. It feels criminal. I wish I had ran into him again so I could sneak him some. However, someone DID benefit from our left overs. As we were finishing, an older homeless man snuck up beside us and grabbed what was left of our chicken. He was incredibly gentle about it and had a kind smile on his face. I felt relieved that our food wasn’t going to go to waste when so many people go hungry in this country.

The market had the most amazing produce. We plan on going back tomorrow because eating out twice a day, everyday, is already getting old. Around the market there were little shops that were hidden in what looked like small garages. Here you could find handmade goods, cheaper alcohol (although it’s still more expensive than in the US), bouquets of flowers, and even freshly made slabs of chocolate! (Also chicken’s feet if you’re into that)

That’s the chocolate people! $2 for a piece twice the size of your head! and off to the right is homemade peanut butter.

My Spanish teacher insisted on ending class 20 minutes early to teach us some salsa moves for my birthday. He told us to go home and practice and to plan on going to a salsa dance club this Wednesday to celebrate. I can’t wait!

As far as celebrating tonight, we’re having our first homemade dinner with our house mother. Then we’re probably going out for dessert epenadas (I’ll post a picture) and my first legal drink! Although, it will likely be just one because wine is like $5-$7 a glass. (which will probably be more than enough in this altitude). In comparison, that $7 drink could get me 28 trolle rides, 3 lunches, or a hand painted piece of pottery. However, beer can be bought for about $0.85 a bottle here, but I haven’t heard great things about those. At some point I’ll have to try it though.

Well that’s all for now 🙂 Thank you everyone for the wonderful birthday wishes. I’m very lucky to have such loving and supporting friends, family, mentors, and coworkers in my life 🙂 <3

Chao!

It is always the first couple weeks in a new place that are the hardest: the lack of skill, knowledge, or in-person support I’ve come to rely on at home take their toll on my day to day life. Whereas at home I am very organized and efficient, generally knowing what I am doing on a day-to-day basis, here my routine is not so stable. It is Tuesday, do I still do yoga even though I’m no longer at my gym and have a to-do list a mile long? At home the answer was simple: yes. Here, not so much. Every day I have to choose how I will spend my time and things are complicated by the fact that everything takes a little longer because I am not familiar with the system here. So without my routine or close friends to comfort me, it is easier to feel discouraged and frustrated. So rarely, during the first couple weeks, do my grand adventures look anything like I imagined they would before I came.

Thankfully, I have a six-week study abroad experience in México to draw from, so I am able to more easily talk myself down from the ledge, understanding that what I’m going through is just a part of the process and things will come together in time.

So, this week I’ve spent my time getting acclimated to London, becoming familiar with the transportation system and getting to know some of my fellow students. Thankfully, Roehampton has an extensive social program, so getting to know other students has been relatively easy, even with my daughter tagging along with us. This past week, the study abroad office organized a “Photo Frenzy Scavenger Hunt,” which was an awesome way to get to know London and some of the other students. Going out with my camera was fun, but I was especially grateful to get to know another student from France, who seems to have some similar interests to me.

I’m looking forward to the start of term and some externally enforced structure to my day. My class modules have been selected and my classes look interesting. I am especially looking forward to my American Literature class: Reading the American South Through the Lens of Race, Gender, and Memory. It should be pretty great to get perspective on American literature and culture through the English frame of reference.

After so much traveling this past year, I’ve gained a little confidence in navigating unfamiliar territories; and, therefore, wasn’t too concerned about my arrival in London. However, it was interesting having to navigate the London Underground with my nine-year-old daughter, Sydney, and three suitcases in stow. Thankfully, many a kind stranger stopped and offered help, getting my luggage on and off the trains as well as up and down stairs. It was a beautiful introduction to what would become my home for the next 3 months.

Sydney and I made our way home, well past midnight, by foot from the underground. It wasn’t until well into our walk that I thought it might not be all to safe to be walking to our new home, dragging our luggage behind us, so late into the night. The reality was, I didn’t know the conditions or safety of our new neighborhood.

Yet, the streets were quiet and clean and I felt safe. We made it home with no problems, ready to sleep and rest after a 24 hour trip from the states. Sydney and I decided that after the busyness of our last couple months, we would take some time to recuperate and do our exploring later. So, instead of going out and about, we made a list of things we would like to see and do and made a plan for our upcoming weekends. We focused our time and attention on getting to know our own neighborhood and learning how to navigate public transportation, rather than exploring all of London.

It turns out, London transportation is quite confusing! There are different rates for buses, the underground, and the national railway. To add to the confusion, the underground has different rates depending on which zone you are traveling in and the time of day you use the card. All of the transportation is paperless, so you have to put money on your “oyster card” before you can take any trips. I tried figuring it out online, but once again had to rely on the kindness of strangers to get me through the task.

Also, figuring out the best way to do things is tough. I’ve had to go to a variety of different stores to try to find the most affordable one. Without any previous shopping experience here, it is hard to know what a reasonable price is. It has really made me aware of how much I rely on a variety of previous experiences to make everyday decisions. Without any background knowledge, even the most mundane activities take on a certain level of challenge. I am looking forward for the day that my activities are more second nature and I will be able to spend my energy doing more of the things I like to do.

This is my first blog post, and as I understand it, I’ve fallen somewhat behind. I will, however, remedy that with one post -this post- that will cover all the necessary business I have so far neglected, i.e pre-departure as well as my arrival. And from here on out I will keep up-to-date entries every week detailing the various goings on here in Dublin, Ireland, my home for the next eighty or so days. Luckily I’ve been keeping a small journal on me at all times, and will be able to transcribe my actual notes from the last (quite eventful) ten days here on my blog. Sound good? Cool.

Pt. 1

My name is Nathaniel Dunaway. I’m twenty-two years old and I’m from Prineville, Oregon. It’s a small town located smack dab in the center of the state, at the edge of the High Desert. People associate Oregon with rain, but where I’m from its dust and sunshine and cowboy boots, year round. I attend Western Oregon University, where I study theatre and film. I hope to someday soon have a career in both. I am an amateur film director and playwright, as well as co-founder of Body in the Window Seat, an independent film production company. Since 2013, we have produced three feature length independent films.

Now all of this is necessary information because it all lends some explanation to why I’m currently writing this while seated at a generic dormitory-style ikea desk inside a student housing complex in Dublin, Ireland. My being here in Ireland is the culmination of a lot of hard work, stress, and patience on the part of myself and my girlfriend Shannen Brouner, who is right now just on the other side of that wall right there. It is a victory for us to be here, no doubt about it. Ireland was not a random choice for me, or a second choice, or a hard choice, or even really a choice at all. I’ve always felt a strong personal connection to Ireland, and though part of it is my genealogical heritage (my grandpa D.L. Bryant always said that our ancestors came to America on a prison vessel from Ireland, and that very well could’ve been the truth), a stronger connection exists beyond my familial bond. It’s a connection to words; to stories. Irish theatre is the best that has been produced anywhere in the world (in my opinion, of course); George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, Sean O’Casey, Samuel Beckett, Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Lady Gregory, John B. Keane, W.B. Yeats, Marina Carr, John Millington Synge, Conor McPherson, Martin McDonagh, Dion Boucicoult, and that’s just the playwrights! If we include novelists, mention must be made of James Joyce and Bram Stoker. Nearly all of these writers have impacted my life, whether in high school or college, and they’ve helped to create this bond I feel toward the Emerald Isle.

So here I am.

Pt. 2

The only mention I make in my journal concerning the trip prior to its undertaking is from June 17 of this year. It goes like this:

“I’m terrified that something is going to prevent Shannen and I from going to Ireland this fall, but I’m staying optimistic. I really want this to work out.”

Well bud, looks like it worked out. There’s not a whole lot more I can say in regards to my feelings during the pre-departure phase of this adventure. I was terrified. I still am. But I’m here. That’s the important thing. I’m here. I’m here with Shannen, in Ireland. We made it. What did I expect from Ireland? I have no idea. I guess rain, and Irish accents. I expected school to be difficult and clothes to be expensive, neither of which are true. I expected to feel lonely, and I do sometimes. I expected the opportunity of a lifetime, and I’m living it.

The following is dated September 13, 2015 at 10:39 AM:

Its breakfast time here in Dublin. Shannen and I arrived mid-afternoon yesterday on a flight that has been dubbed the Notorious Flight from Philly. After a six hour delay, we were finally in the air, and after another six hours of flying, we landed safe and sound in the sunshine of Dublin. After standing in line for immigration (during which an ugly-as-sin Aussie meathead passive-aggressively cut in line ahead of us), Shannen and I braved the interrogation of the polite yet intense immigration officer.

“Shannen with an E, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

He issued us our 90 day stamp on our passports and we were on our way. On site coordinator John Hayes met us outside of the terminal. John is an immensely friendly man with an impressive beard. He led us briskly to our shuttle, which carried us to our home away from home: Shanowen Square. There, we met our roommates. Our roommates are also from the states. There’s Zach from Colorado and Hannah from California.

This week was packed full of sightseeing in Lyon. We explored almost the whole city by foot. We had a guided tour of Vieux Lyon. Which has the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, the ancient Roman ruins (2000 years old) and many old churches and buildings. It is really fascinating how the French take pride in their architecture. They will do everything possible to restore old buildings instead of just knocking them down like we do back in the states.

New construction here is built around existing building and this juxtaposition of the old and new brings a lot of charm to the city. I believe the French do this because they truly believe France is the best place on earth and what has been made here should never be destroyed but merely enhanced when necessary.

Below are some pictures I took of Vieux Lyon while exploring the city:

Another part of the city that we explored is called La Confluence. This part of town is completely different from Vieux Lyon. La Confluence is the newest part of the city. In a way it reminds me of the United States with all its new buildings and modern architecture. However, the main difference is as I previously stated is that art in the French culture is very important. As modern as La Confluence is, it is not boring in any way. It is as visually pleasing as the Basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière which is much older. For the most part, in France they don’t build building just to build them, but to enhance their cities.

Below are some pictures I took of La Confluence:

Another aspect of the French culture that is well known all over the world is their love of food. I have always known that the French eat very well. I knew they had some of the best restaurants and cuisine in the world. But, what has shocked me the most is how even when they prepare their own meals at home how much effort they put into their food. Meal times are almost sacred here. I thought this would be different with younger French people, but it’s not.

I live with 4 other French students and each of them has a passion for great food. They will easily spend one hour every night making their dinners and lunch is no different. They cherish their meals here. This is completely contrary to our American culture of popping  a TV dinner in the microwave and calling it good. The way they treat food here is something I will easily get accustomed to!

C’est tout pour le moment!

Au revoir