A comparison of unhealthy foods

Now that I've been in Belfast for a while, I have some things to say. Mainly, about junk food.

Kit-kat -- better in Ireland
Twix -- better in America
Funyuns/Tayto Onion Rollers -- better in Ireland
Cadbury chocolates -- better in Ireland
Sprite -- better in Ireland
Marshmallows -- better in Ireland
Potato chips/crisps -- better in Ireland (not just the packaging)
edit: chocolate malt balls -- better in Ireland; namely, because I actually like them here.

And here's one that's not so unhealthy, for the conscientious crowd.

Milk -- so, so much better in Ireland

So, for those of you playing along at home, that's Ireland 7 8, America 1.

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Of a clandestine nature

Well, the event I mentioned in my last post has come to pass, and, if you were in or around QUB today, you've no doubt figured out what it was. US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was visiting QUB for a summit on industry in Northern Ireland and the relationship between the US and Northern Ireland, particularly with regard to the technology sector. She also had meetings at Stormont Parliament on the remaining terrorist (sectarian) violence in Belfast. Note: Before anyone starts freaking out about me being in a terrorist zone, I should point out that Northern Ireland actually has the lowest crime and violence rates in all of Europe. Now.

I was told I had to be through security by 10:30am. At every point, I was told, "Students are not attending this event." And, each time, I would reply, "My name's on the list. I'm to attend." They would check their lists and, amazingly, my name would be there! I found out later that only five students were invited -- the student union president and vice president, the two Mitchell Scholars at QUB, and myself. We were left to mingle with various business folk, which didn't work out so well. Many of them, it turned out, were being asked to speak in the summit and were nervous and practicing what they had to say on their fellows.

When it was time for the summit to begin, those participating were shuffled into the meeting room, and the Mitchell Scholars and I were positioned on the side of the room. Among others, I got to meet Lieutenant General Paul Selva, who was incredibly kind and seemed genuinely interested in my research and volunteer ambitions. Next, Secretary Clinton came in, briefly shook hands, and moved into the meeting room. At this point, we decided that we should head down to the Great Hall, where her speech would later take place, in order to actually have a seat.

The speech she gave was good. She discussed the strides that have been made in the past 15 years in the Northern Irish industry. Technology has boomed here, and NI corporations have actually supplied jobs to Americans. There are issues yet to be resolved, but the process is positive on the whole.

After the speech, Secretary Clinton gave us a few minutes of her time. She was pleased to see three students at QUB on two of the most prestigious scholarships from the US. She said it illustrates the positive growth NI has shown -- Mitchell Scholars can choose anywhere in Ireland to study, and I could have chosen anywhere in the UK.

Mitchell Scholars may also be bright, but they do not know when a picture is being taken.

In other news, it looks like I may be moving. My experiences with QUB accommodation have pushed me to my limits, and I delivered a long letter today requesting to be let out of my contract. I argued a bit with the accommodation manager, who first wanted to move me to another building. If I had only had one problem, I might would have gone with this option. However, I had a list of four big reasons I didn't want to stay, the worst of which was that I do not have electricity (again). I calmly explained that I am at the end of my rope. She is going to confirm that a student can be brought up from the waiting list tomorrow morning, but we have tentatively set Friday as my last day here. Hooray for greener pastures!

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One month

Today, it has been one month since I came to Belfast. I'm feeling better, settling in, and getting used to the crazy life that is PhD. Looking at my calendar, I have only three days without something booked in the next month. Busy is not bad, but I'm just wondering where I will find the time for my own research.


I'm trying to do a bit of a front-heavy approach to the Postgraduate Skills Training Programme (PSTP), where we take personal and professional development training courses. My logic is that, if I get many of them out of the way now, I don't have to worry about fulfilling the requirements when I'm hardcore writing. I have completed 1.5 days so far (out of the requisite 30 over the 3 years), am negotiating some of my Fulbright events counting toward the practical hours (10 of the 30), and will have 6.25 days completed by the end of this semester. Those numbers don't even consider any department events that may count, and I know I'm doing a bit in the School of English in November.

However, today, I got to do a little practical shopping/adventure. Cristina (who is part of my PhD cohort), Cara (who is also in the IIS and in the MA Irish Writing course I'm auditing), and I traveled to the city centre to visit St. George's Market for the first time. It was fabulous! On Fridays, they have antique books and clothing, and Saturday is for fresh foods and handmade crafts. I hope to make it back next week to check out the Friday wares.

I bought the following: 1 bunch of carrots, 5 apples, 6 baby portobello mushrooms, 1 spaghetti squash, 1 container of stuffed green olives, 1 container of extra-hot black olive spread, 1 bag of ground roasted garlic, 1 bag of basil, and 1 bag of lemon pepper. I feel like there is something missing from my list, but I can't recall more at the moment. I am very happy to have a few spices (salt and black pepper just do not cut it when I'm used to my fairly well-stocked kitchen at home) and some fresh ingredients -- and to support local growers.

The next few days look like they will also be good. A professor (GSU), mentor, and friend of mine is visiting, and we are meeting for coffee tomorrow. I'm very excited, not just to be able to see her, but also because she is a huge part of why I'm here in Belfast. She got me in contact with the Irish Studies department here, she wrote letters for my Fulbright and QUB applications, and she never let me think that I wasn't good enough to get any of it. Last year, she also wrote the letter for my scholarship application to the Yeats School in Sligo, which undoubtedly guided me to choose a school here for my PhD. It is easy for me to say that, without her guidance and encouragement, I would not have even bothered applying for a Fulbright grant.

On Monday, there is a big event taking place. I'm not at liberty to actually talk about it yet. More details will come after it transpires. It is something of an honour; I know that I'm involved because of my Fulbright. It is just one of the ways in which the Fulbright has already opened doors for me that would be otherwise shut in my face with laughter from the other side. The event itself is a bit of a mixed bag for me, but I still understand the importance. So, wait on the edge of your seats for breaking news Monday afternoon!

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A concise argument for Ireland's inherent awesomeness

In case you can't read it (You can click to make it larger.), this is the back nutritional information panel on a bag of Hunky Dorys salt & vinegar potato crisps.

The allergy advice section reads as follows: "Doesn't contain Kryptonite. (but does contain Wheat (Gluten))."

The storage conditions sections reads as follows: "Treat Hunky Dorys like Gremlins. Keep them cool, dry & away from bright lights and strong flavours."

I rest my case.

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Fulbright orientation


Getting to London for the Fulbright orientation was, as is usual when I'm traveling, a bit of a chore. Because I didn't want to pay an incredible amount (and still sort of did) to fly, I booked a flight that left at 7:05am. You know what's fun about a lovely morning flight like that? Getting there on time for your lovely morning flight.

My day started with a taxi trip beginning at 4:30am. Which, of course, meant that I had to be packed and at the gate by 4:30am. Not as much fun as it might sound. I woke up at 3:45 (thank you, new alarm widget for my dashboard), tried to get as ready as possible, and dragged myself and my suitcase out to the taxi in 40 degree weather. This should be the point where you tell me, "But, Sydney, you do know it's significantly warmer in London than Belfast, don't you?" If I hadn't been going crazy about the whole trip in the first place, I probably would have thought of that. Instead, I packed warm layers.

The taxi leaves me at the bus centre exactly six minutes later. I always try to pad my time a bit, but it turned out that my lovely idea left me standing outside the bus centre for nearly 25 minutes. Why outside? Because my bus left before the bus centre opened. The bus did eventually come, and I traveled the 35 minutes to the airport. I had to pay for my checked bag (£16 each way) and go through security, which was oddly packed considering it was early morning.

I would like to take the opportunity now to address any of you who may run airports. It is extremely helpful to your nervous, frazzled travelers if the tickets you give include the gate at which their airplane will depart. I know these things often change, and I don't usually complain about running from one gate to another. I would like to have some indication as to which part of the airport I need to wait in for my flight. It appears that the Belfast International Airport decides on the fly at which gate the flights will be stationed. This fact meant that, once it was advertised which gate I needed, I had 11 minutes to run to the other end of the airport.

The flight was bumpy, the passengers were noisy, and I had a terrible pain in my upper right jaw as we descended. (Anyone who might know what this is, please tell me. It started as a little prick around one tooth, and grew until it felt like someone was chiseling off my teeth from front to back. It happened on the way back to Belfast as well, and I'd like to prevent it from ever happening again.) Landing in London was wonderful, as I've never wanted off of an airplane so badly. Of course, I stepped off the plane to find that my wool coat was already making me sweat. Lovely.

From the airport, I took a bus into London. I could have taken a train and cut the travel time down by nearly 2/3, but I would have paid three times more. The bus ride took almost two hours, and I think I might have actually dozed off for a few moments along the journey. From where the bus dropped me off, I took the tube to a station close to the hotel I had been booked into. I left by what seemed to be the wrong exit, and I was immediately lost. I had no map, no phone, and no idea where I was. After wandering for a bit, dragging my suitcase behind me, a taxi slowed down and asked if I was lost. I'm sure a lost tourist was a great opportunity for him, but it was also a way to make sure I got where I was going.

It turned out I was very near the hotel, and the taxi fare was only £3 to get there. I didn't have the fare in coins, and the only bill I had was a £20 note. He offered to let me out for free, but I felt bad and gave him what coins I had. He was very kind and, knowing that I was lost, could have taken me on a scenic route to get there. I wasn't able to check in that early at the hotel, but I was able to check my bag with the porter and use the free wifi in the lobby and lounge. When I could finally check in, I finished the last chapter of the book I was reading, took a short nap, and headed back downstairs.

Over the course of the next few hours, I met several of the Fulbrighters. (For future reference, when looking for Fulbrighters, go where there is free wifi. We will be there.) I had dinner with a few of them, but, more importantly, I had dinner conversation with a few of them. I was immediately impressed. Not only were they able to speak well on their own subjects (as I should hope), but they also spoke very intelligently about a variety of other topics. It must be said that a Fulbrighter that is a TMNT fan is definitely a friend of mine. The trip was looking up.

The orientation was off to a start the next morning, and we all got to know each other through an exercise called "autograph bingo". I was a little disappointed that my square read "Whose passion in life is Irish Literature?". I mean, it is true, but I was hoping for something more exciting, like "Who threw javelin?" or "Who has been on an expedition to Antarctica?". We also got to meet Michael and Elizabeth, who have been the saints guiding us here from the beginning. We had lectures, discussions, and a pub quiz in the evening. My team was called "The Winners", and the name came awfully close to the truth. We had to go to a double tie-breaker, and we lost. Valiant effort, nonetheless.

On Tuesday, we had an opportunities fair. Unfortunately, there didn't prove to be many opportunities for me without flying back and forth to England. No one I talked to offered anything in Northern Ireland. We also attended a panel, where we heard prominent speakers on economics, politics, social issues, etc. The topic of Northern Ireland was actually broached, and we were told that England just wants Northern Ireland to go away and leave them alone. This statement deeply troubled me, especially considering the period I am studying is the one that includes Northern Ireland's conception and inclusion in the UK. I'm not going to get into all the nitpicky details, but I think these comments were glib, at best. Later that day, we toured the RSA house and heard a lecture given by a Fulbright alumnus on Churchill and the "special relationship" between the US and UK. Though he didn't mention it, I feel like we Fulbrighters are part of that special relationship.

On Tuesday night, we decided to follow Kenneth to his favourite restaurant in London -- an Indian joint near Piccadilly Circus. There were 10 of us, including Michael's three children. We wound up in the wrong part of town (especially for the children in tow), and had to quickly backtrack to a makeshift wonderful Indian joint. Fortunately, the kids seemed less fazed by the surroundings than most of us, and we wound up having a great dinner anyway.

On Wednesday, we finally got to have some tourist fun. We started the morning with a cruise down the Thames. We got to, very briefly, go into the British Maritime Museum and see the Prime Meridian. My camera batteries decided that, since I was finally getting to take pictures of London, they would die. Here are the pictures that I managed to take. Our meetings were held in the Citibank building on the 37th floor. From there, we could see the entire city. I was supposed to meet up with my friend Dan, but our meetings ran long and I had to cancel. That night, we found an Italian restaurant for dinner. We were put in a group room in the basement with eight drunken nurses who had all won an award that day. They were fascinated by us, and we were definitely entertained by them. We hung out the rest of the night in Kenneth's room; I don't know that we could have actually fit another person into the room.

On Thursday, an optional day for orientation, some of us took a tour of the Globe Theatre and ate lunch at the cafe in the Tate Modern. I didn't have much time to spare, considering all the methods of transportation I had to use to get back to Belfast. I left as soon as we got back to the hotel.

I expected the Fulbright group to be bright and well-spoken. We're told that we have to be bright and well-spoken in order to get the grant. I did not necessarily anticipate the level of kindness, generosity, and all around awesomeness of the people I was to meet that week. By Thursday, I felt like I was surrounded by friends, and I honestly hope that I can continue to say that for years to come. We were told we were rockstars, tomorrow's leaders, and world-changers. Despite everything you hear about the youth (and the people that actively teach and shape them), I felt good thinking that my future may lie partially in their hands. And, a little scared at the sheer number of fart jokes I heard. Can't win them all.

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Welcome to Belfast

After the initial confusion and running about, I told myself I would wait to post about arriving to Belfast until it felt like Belfast. By that, I mean, when the weather felt like Belfast weather. I arrived on 10 September, and it is now 30 September. It has just now rained. 20 days of unseasonably dry and rather warm weather; it has varied considerably between wool-coat-and-scarf weather and short-sleeved weather.

As I said, I arrived on the 10th, and everything has been rather crazy from then on out. My mother and Aunt Deb in tow, we checked into our hotel and set off to explore Belfast. Unfortunately, the hotel was nowhere near the QUB campus, so much of that exploring isn't worth anything for me now.

However, we did go see Giant's Causeway, the Carrick-a-rede rope bridge, Dunluce Castle, Carrickfergus Castle, the Bushmill's Distillery, the reservoir in the Mourne Mountains, and a bit of Dublin for the fun of it. I managed to get some good pictures of the fun.

I checked into my room at QUB on the 14th and actually moved into it on the 16th, when Mum and Deb left to go back to the States. It's small, and I don't really care for the people I've met who live in the hall. It'll do until December/January. At least I have my own bathroom.

I've also met my Fulbright mentor, who is absolutely fabulous. I have since learned that I was the only Fulbrighter who even knew we had mentors, let alone had spoken to and met mine. He took us out to dinner one night after a walk by the water. He also took us out to the Mourne Mountains, which is where some of those great pictures were taken.

I did the international orientation for QUB and officially enrolled in my program. Like I assumed, I am not taking any classes. I do have to participate in something called the Postgraduate Skills Training Programme, which has courses in honing skills such as networking, academic assertiveness, personal marketing, and even Powerpoint. There are also some interesting ones like "Doing it All: Academic Careers for Women (Being a Woman in a Male Environment)". We have to log 30 hours (10 of which have to be practical use) over the three year program. Not too bad at all.

I met two members of my cohort during international orientation. After returning from London (which gets its own entry, lest you think I've ignored my Fulbright orientation all together), we had a department meet and greet. I got to meet the rest of my cohort, as well as the staff/faculty, the MA cohort, and the research fellows.

My UK bank account is set up, and I have received all the information about it. However, I have come to the realization that there is no Citibank nor any of its affiliates here in Belfast, which makes actually banking rather difficult. I think I'm going to open another account with Ulster Bank since there is a branch just by campus. I don't know what to do with the Citibank account, though; I already told QUB they could take my tuition out of there. I might could get that changed, but I'll have to wait until I actually have another account and all the details before I could follow through with it.

I've ventured out in the town a bit, but not too much on my own. When I got back from London, I discovered that I have shingles. It makes me really tired, and so does the medicine I've been given. I'm trying not to let it get to me too much, but it is really depressing that I have to come down with something when I finally am here and settled.

On the upside, I'm pretty sure I'm buying a TV and the whole set-up for me to watch shows and movies and play my games. I also bought an adaptor for my Wii because the little blips in the video and audio were freaking me out a little. Besides the fact that I definitely need to tidy up the room a little (everyone gives me paperwork!), Belfast is starting to feel a bit like home.

Who am I kidding? That makes it exactly like home.

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Farewell, America

Today is my last full day on US soil.  I guess I should pack.

In all seriousness, I'm not packed.  I have a mental checklist. I have everything (I think) I need in order to make the transition easier.  I have been going over all my clothes in my head to see what I need and what can stay in a box until I return.  I just haven't pulled on the zipper that opens the suitcase.

Let's move on to things I have done.  I have completed the application to open my UK bank account.  I sent it over about a week ago, and I heard from the banking agent today, asking me to give her my phone number so she can ask a few questions.  I gave her my US number, but I don't know if she's going to call internationally or not.  I don't know what information she needs, nor do I figure I can answer her questions if they fall outside of the realm of my name at this point.

I finished my term as a middle school teacher.  While I was only with them for three weeks, my experience ran the gamut of possibilities.  Hearing and vision tests, book fairs, scheduled computer lab visits, and the simple concept of having to walk them to and from the restroom all strained my attempts to make a schedule and stick to it.  I learned a lot about the kids, and I even had to learn the protocol for punishment and reward.

I have now planned a meeting with my Fulbright mentor! We are meeting to have dinner this week, and I am very excited to talk to someone that knows the area well and can guide me in the right direction.

On Sunday, there was a surprise luncheon for me at my favorite Chinese restaurant.  The room was full of family and friends, and it was a lovely time.  I had already said goodbye to Melanie, Erik, and Isy the night before, so it was completely unexpected to see them at the restaurant.  Nova drove down to attend, and I wasn't sure that I would be able to see her before leaving.  As for my family, I had either said my goodbyes or had assumed I wouldn't have the chance. Seeing everyone there was a real shock, and I enjoyed spending time with them before leaving.

I also just received a lovely present in the mail from a friend! I got an email this morning from Cheryl, telling me that she had mailed my surprise on Saturday.  When I read the email, I was afraid it would take too long to get here, seeing as I have been having some trouble receiving things when promised.  Less than ten minutes after reading her email, our mail carrier knocked on the door.

I feel very fortunate that I have friends and family that are willing to go out of their way to make me feel special. Between the party, the presents, and simple things like phone calls and Facebook messages, I have been feeling very loved this week.  It makes it a bit harder to leave them all here, but I know they're all looking out for me and waiting to hear about my great adventure.

My next post will come to you from Belfast!

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