I write from Dublin's deserted streets, which I can see from the confines of our top-floor apartment.
No James Joyce Centre this week
The shiny light in the bottom right corner is the Off-License (Liquor store)
- it is still open and doing a roaring trade so it is.
The family I work for is very generously giving me paid time off as they're both working at home, so are juggling work and home-schooling their kids for now. One of their kids was born premature, and they're scared of what might happen if he contracts anything, so they're being super-careful.
So now I get to watch Jared work. And sleep in. File tax returns and finalise our building consent in New Zealand. I have made us delicious food and watched a lot of Anne with an E. I have spent a lot of time looking at pretty graphs on the internet and reading the news. (Shout out to Al Jazeera and RNZ, doing a fine job.)
We're not (yet) on full lockdown here, so I have been dragging Jared away from his work-from-home desk for a walk or bike ride each evening, in order to maintain sanity and sleep. Yoga each morning has been a nice way to start the days.
Royal Canal at Sunset
Inaugural Dublin Bikes excursion
Blitzing him on my bike... what do you think about Orla the Orange for a name?
I have developed a very specific sore throat. It started on Sunday.
I had minor paranoia that I had contracted Covid-19, despite having none of the symptoms.
My throat feels like the time that I had an ulcer on my tonsil. It seems to only be on one side and is reasonably impervious to painkillers. It's been a week. I hoped it'd get better on its own. it's not a big deal, just constant. Present. Twinging each time I swallow. Gnawing away at my resolve to be amicable and calm. On Thursday, I finally caved and called the Doctors.
It was the strangest Doctor's appointment I've ever had: I called them to make an appointment. I was informed that I was '6th in line' and they would 'call me back'. They 'called' and my phone didn't ring. The telecommunications infrastructure is struggling under the weight of this new responsibility. Voice message. I return the call. Jared, the best amateur doctor around, took a photo of what's happening in my throat, we emailed it to the doctor with my guess of what is going on. She looked at the email and called me back. She agreed with my self-diagnosis. The receptionist called me back to get my credit card details and said they would email the prescription to my choice of pharmacy.
I told her the pharmacy at the end of our street.
I went to collect my prescription later and it turns out that pharmacy is closed because their staff came into contact with someone who had Covid-19 and they had to self-isolate.
The sign on their door said that the pharmacy down the road was taking their orders.
I went to that pharmacy.
They hadn't received the email on Thursday evening, despite my doctors swearing they emailed the second place.
I messaged the closed pharmacy on Facebook and they had never received the prescription from my doctor either.
I went back to Life Pharmacy yesterday, assuming that they would by now have the prescription.
Those poor harried souls looked at me aghast as to why I was back again: They hadn't called me.
The line to see them was around the corner - all social distanced, a metre-ish apart. They apologised profusely, and looked through their emails. They said they still hadn't received anything.
I will try again today, now that I've blasted my doctor's office, and have a copy of the prescription emailed to me as well.
[Update 3pm] The pharmacy is closed until Monday. FFS.
Pharmacies operating on gmail accounts in these circumstances is a bit of a joke, lads.
I decided it was important to get dressed up to go to town. Leaving the house is now an 'occasion'.
In other news, you'll be pleased to know that this week our supermarket has implemented social distancing in the queues, but nowhere else, and they're out of flour but have HEAPS of toilet paper.
Of my monumental list of awesome things to do to avoid Lauren getting bored, I have done 3 things. I'm not going to tell you which things those are. How is it possible to be so 'unproductive' even when there is literally ONLY free time and nothing else to do? What have I been doing with my time? Ya know, I'm not really sure, to be honest.
I've done a bunch of mending. Actually getting better at hand-sewing and can nearly create a straight line when required.
We've watched 'Pandemic' on Netflix. We also tried Netflix Watch Party. Eh.
I made coconut loaf to calm the latent homesickness, and pretend like my mummy is near.
I spent a lot of time reading and watching all around the world, as the pandemic spreads and it is daunting reading. This is my fave site to check on how it is all unfolding.
Yesterday, I cycled to IKEA before it closed 'for the foreseeable future'. I am aware that I totally took the bait, but we haven't been there since this time last year, and it was a good excuse for a 18km bike ride. There were pre-recorded messages playing about social distancing. The checkout staff wore gloves, and only accepted tap payment. I hardly touched anything and washed my hands before and after going around the shop. I started with a scarf around my face, but it kept falling off and I was aware of how ridiculous I looked.
I can't remove the battery from my electric bike, so now it's just a bike. The bike store is closed, so no help there either. I will have just a bike for awhile yet. I think any cycling will progressively get curtailed, so probably not too much of a bother just yet.
Cafes are all closed. Any hope of getting a decaf cappa with coconut milk is zero.
I've made some lovely friends here in Dublin who are proving to be a hilarious vicarious source of support and love. Especially the Australian contingent - they really understand how hard it is to be so far away from home at this time and we're all going to support each other through this trying time.
Yea right. They'll be... supporting from afar.
I had a bath last night. It's supposed to be relaxing right? Our hot water cylinder only has enough water in it to create about half a hand's depth in the bath. So I had to get creative and a bit diva-ish - I put every pot we have on the stove and boiled water in each, then boiled the jug as well. I got Jared to bring in a pot every 10 minutes. Have I mentioned recently he is the best husband? He is definitely the best.
I tried to read. I read through some Irish poems of even more dire days, and decided that was enough doom and gloom for one night.
I feel like this is more a 'beautiful terror' at this stage, and not very beautiful at that.
It is the most frustrating thing trying to relax when there's low grade panic coursing through your veins. My attention span has withered away to nothing, and like a child, I'm complaining about everything and bored every 5 minutes. I had already been aware of how precarious our position was, but this has really highlighted it. My job security is entirely dependent on someone's good opinion of me, and how long they'd like to keep giving me free money, we have no insurance, no savings, no return flights, no guarantee of medical care, and apparently no functional access to a pharmacy or doctor should we need one.
Relax, Lauren. Relax, just chill, why aren't you relaxed yet?
The flip side of all this worry is we do have a lot to be grateful for. We still have jobs. We have a nice place to be cooped up in. We have food. We have power. It is getting warmer, so there's less need for heaters. I have a pretty amazing quarantine buddy, who's always up for snuggles, I can usually coerce a massage out of him and we can turn our lounge into a dance floor and just boogie. We have a bath. We have internet, and entertainment. We have a modest collection of board games, and we're up to 4 different versions of Ticket to Ride. Most importantly, we are healthy (for now).
It has seemed like a very long week, with a blissful banal nothingness relentlessly stretching out before me.
View from our room
If the rest of Europe is anything to go by, this is just the beginning of the lockdown.
You can't really see it but in the centre middle of the foreground there's an abandoned yard next to ours, overgrown and dead-looking... I have an insatiable desire to throw things in it which I'm trying to quell.
I listened to a podcast by the Guardian yesterday that was talking about Social Distancing and how important community will be over the next little while, and how people in the UK have Whatsapp groups for their neighbourhood etc, and how important it is to check on others and if they have to self-isolate, then they're going to need people to bring them things, so we will need to reach out more than (our current) normal. Kindness is key, don't expect too much of yourself, and be extra compassionate to yourself and others.
One of the key things mentioned was thinking about what you can do for others.
So I got to thinking about what I could do. I have an entire week with NOTHING to do of any importance next week except for write a book and re-file my dropbox account... Perhaps I'll use some business cards, drop a kind note to my neighbours, and create a bit of community in this giant building where 100 or so live side by side but don't know each other's names.
The fear of possibility is much worse at present than our lived reality, but my heart aches for the stories out of China, Italy and Iran.
Despite all the coming darkness, there are reasons to hope. Some of these have been eloquently expressed in a poem by a priest. I'll leave you with this.
Day 4: In our apartment,Exiled for the Good of the Realm Monday 4:30 pm 16 March
Ok for those of you Down Under, you might not know the full extent of the crazy that is going on here.
Today, both Jared and I at home today... and have been since Friday. We are (currently) well, sane, healthy and still together. Watch this space for a change on any of those fronts. ðŸ¤
Schools have been closed in Ireland since Friday, 13 March.
We were supposed to have nearly a week's worth of socialising teed up for St Patrick's day, March 17.
Last Wednesday, our Friday night wine tasting was cancelled, as was my Saturday afternoon coding job.
Next, Jared's football refereeing gig on Sunday afternoon was cancelled, as was the David McWilliams podcast event we were supposed to be going to on Sunday night. Then our Monday night dance classes were postponed.
This all solved the problem of how we were actually going to cope with all of these activities and still be functional at work on Wednesday this week. Our party week switched to Introvert Heaven.
Saturday morning we went to do groceries at 7am just as the supermarket was opening, but they hadn't quite gotten to restocking their shelves yet and most of them were bare.
We got the essentials - sans TP as we've enough for a while, and there wasn't any to get. We then cleaned every surface in the apartment, so that we at least started with a clean slate.
In an effort to keep myself employed and give myself some non-public transport options, I invested in a bike on Saturday afternoon, and took it for a test drive all over the rather bumpy Dublin roads. There will definitely be a need for health insurance now. Dublin roads be scary.
We played a round of our new Ticket to Ride Europe version - about as close to travel as we're going to get any time soon. There will be several more rounds of Pandemic in our future as well I'm sure.
Last but not least, the Bottomless Brunch we had booked and paid for for Paddy's day was cancelled as it was announced that all Pubs needed to close from midnight last night. You know it's serious if the Irish are closing the pubs this close to St Patrick's day.
There are rumours that there will be a 30 day travel ban EU wide, and that the initial lockdown period - until 29 March at this stage - could be extended. Oh Flower of Scotland - when will we see your like again?
Well, it's not going to be this Easter is it?
Ireland has 169 cases at present in the Republic, but that number is growing by an alarming percentage each day, so hopefully the stringent and sweeping measures employed to nip this in the bud will start taking effect.
Our days have been mostly chilling at home and reading everything available online about Covid-19, from the informative to the insane.
One of particular note is this: (pardon the expletives)
WHY IRELAND IS IN TROUBLE
Lads,
I've been reading about this virus since January, and like most people, I was cracking jokes about it and did not take it seriously at all. That changed completely when someone explained the numbers to me and explained why we in Ireland in particular are in trouble. I have not stopped thinking about it since. You may not think that we are in trouble based on the number of confirmed cases so far, but we are.
I'm going to write this to you in an effort to explain what the fuck is actually going on and hopefully help in the effort. A lot of people are ringing me and asking me if I know anything on the inside. I don't know much more than what is in the news, but I have probably spotted some of the important stuff that you may have missed.
I've been tracking the numbers and confirmed cases in Ireland have been growing by 30% a day on average, which means the number of cases doubles every 2-3 days. Based on those trends, and without the shutdown, there would be 100,000 confirmed cases within a month.
But the situation is actually much worse. Based on what happened in China and Italy, the actual number of cases in Ireland is almost certainly in the thousands already. The problem is that with this virus, you can have it, not have any symptoms, and still be infecting everyone around you before you feel sick. The Government knows this. That is why they shut the country down.
On the international numbers, over 90% of cases will recover. But 9% will be seriously ill, and about 5% will require intensive care (ICU) and at least 2.5% will need ventilators.
The Government has said between 25% and 75% of the population will get the virus. If 25% of the Irish population get it, which based on the numbers above is a very low estimate, that's 1.2 million people.
5% needing intensive care means 60,000 people will need intensive care beds to stay alive.
We currently have 277 intensive care beds in Ireland.
I'm going to say that again:
At least 60,000 Irish people will need an ICU bed to stay alive.
We only have 277 ICU beds in Ireland.
If too many people get sick in a short space of time, many, many Irish men and women are going to die when they could have been saved. Ireland is a small country. This is going to be someone in your family or someone you know. Or their mother. Or their father.
The staff in ICU wards know the numbers. Their representative body released a statement on Thursday, which was in the Irish Times, saying that they know that they are going to be making choices on who gets an ICU bed or who gets a ventilator. They said they will be making "challenging decisions". I'll translate that: It means the staff are going to be deciding who lives and who dies.
It has been happening in Italy already, and Italy has much better ICU care than we do. In terms of cases, we are 2 weeks behind Italy. The older you are, the less likely they are going to try to save you. Don't think this only applies to over 70s. If you are over 40, and need ICU, but a 30 year old also needs it, chances are the 30 year old will get it and you will die. If that doesn't scare you, you don't fully understand it.
It is absolutely nuts, but this is what is going to happen.
If we can lower the number of cases AT A SINGLE POINT IN TIME, we lower the number of people needing intensive care AT A SINGLE POINT IN TIME, then we free up more ICU beds, and we lower the number of Irish people who die in Irish hospitals. It is that simple.
This could be someone close to you. Your mam. Your dad. Your partner. Your granny. Your granddad. Your brother. Your sister. Your aunt. Your uncle. Your neighbour. Your friend.
You do not want any of them dying because there was not enough ventilators or ICU beds to go around. It will not be the fault of the ICU staff. If you want to blame someone for that, blame years of governments giving tax cuts instead of investing in the health service.
If you are furious even thinking of the idea of your loved ones dead in a coffin because a doctor thinks they are too old or are not strong enough, and giving a bed to someone who is a bit younger, then good, you are right to be. You will also be more willing to listen to what you need to do next to help stop that happening:
STAY THE FUCK AT HOME AND ONLY GO OUT IF YOU NEED FOOD.
Watch Netflix. Read a book. Binge on a TV series. Go on Youtube. Eat food. Learn to cook. Learn to sew. Write a book. Do a diary. Figure out your life. Do press ups. Do sit ups. Do chin ups. Do zumba dancing. Do an online course in astronomy. Or Yoga. Or sports management. Or whatever the fuck you want.
Do whatever the fuck you want. You have absolutely no excuse not to keep yourself entertained at home.
Do not go for pints. Do not have a house party. Do not go to a house party. Do not go for coffee. Do not go for a meal. Do not go for a chat. Do not visit your auntie. Do not visit your parents. Do not bring the kids over to their friends. Do not let friends come over to you.
If you absolutely have to get out of the house, go for a walk on your own or with someone you are living with. But in general:
STAY THE FUCK AT HOME UNTIL THE NUMBER OF CASES STARTS COMING DOWN.
If you want to be a hero in this, and want to save lives, but don't know what to do, stay the fuck at home.
P.S: The Brits are making a balls of it again and are not staying at home. Lots of them are going to die because they are not staying at home. Don't be like the Brits. Stay at home.
P.P.S: The more people who understand what is going on, the better. So send it on to whoever you think would benefit from it.
All of this information is very relevant to me because one of the children that I work with was born premature and has had a lots of health complications so I'm needing to be super careful to not get sick so that I don't pass anything onto him.
In the mean time, we have been practising many 90s bangers to wash our hands to...
And I have been making lists in my classic way of dealing with all of life's problems.
So now I'm off to do some yoga and go for a bike ride where I touch nothing except my own handles.
Let me know if you have any suggestions for the last star on my list!
R: Lauren, what language do they speak in New Zealand? Me: Mostly English and a bit of Maori... why? R: Oh I thought they spoke New Zealandish. Me: Well we do have a few different words for things. R: *excited face* Can you teach ME to speak New Zealandish? Me: English... we speak English... this is why I can talk to you now... R: What's the New Zealand word for skirt? Me: Skirt R: What? But you call trousers 'pants' and jumpers 'jerseys' and vests 'singlets', and knickers 'undies'? ...Are you sure? Me: Yes, I speak New Zealandish. R: What else is in New Zealandish? Me: Well, you need to know that what you call Wellies, I call gumboots. But I've already introduced you to Pineapple Lumps, which is the most important part.
My life as an immigrant has given me so very many opportunities to reflect upon what once was given, unquestioned, normal. Everything down to the very words that I use for things has come under the microscope...and some of it has been found wanting.
In the process of carving out a new life for oneself, there are a million mini-decisions that lead to a new changed big picture.
We came to Ireland with a giant question mark over our future. I, not knowing what I'd be able to do for a job, or if we'd be able to set up a new life in the style to which we'd become accustomed. A year on, and we're doing alright, but carving out a new life for ourselves is a bigger job than either of us initially thought. (Jared is fine, he had not much of a life to begin with ðŸ¤)
The thing I love about moving somewhere new is the potential for a new life. There is a blank slate, a fresh start! You get to choose, more consciously than normal, what your new habits will be, where you will live, what you will eat, where you will hang out, and with whom.
The thing about potential is perhaps it is not quite as grandiose as you might imagine. See what Dylan Moran has to say on the subject:
You can also try to reassemble your old life just in a new place - try and replicate the same habits with the same types of food, the same types of people, the same utensils in your kitchen, if you're lucky the same brands for shampoo and conditioner and all kinds of things... I've tried this in a limited capacity and found it rather unsuccessful and disappointing.
For example: I've not yet found an equivalent of Nestle Reduced Cream, nor Maggi Onion Soup so I should just give up. Even if I did find suitable alternative, there will never be any chip as good as Bluebird Salt and Vinegar, so why even bother looking? Let chips and dip just be a NZ treat.
This is their selection of soup flavours - nothing remotely close to onion. Oxtail is really not it turns out.
My wild imagination and inexhaustible optimism ensures that I will be eternally disappointed by reality.
But I try nonetheless.
I find myself full of questions like:
'Do I want to be the kind of person who goes to the gym?'
'Do I want to be the kind of person that does groceries once a week and stocks up, or do we just grab them on an ad hoc basis?'
'Do I want to participate in drinking 3 nights in a weekend, or do I have other priorities?'
'What do I want my life here to look like in 5 years time?' (Sketchy plan, but mostly no clue - do I even still want to be here in 5 years time?)
'Can we afford for me to be spending 1.5 days a week not working whilst living in Central Dublin? (Turns out not really)
And the most recent dilemma: 'Do I wanna brave being a cyclist in Dublin?'
I've learned a lot about how much you can change your habits, and also how much you will internally (and seeming eternally) fight those changes, seeking the solace of the 'normal', the familiar, despite it being insanely inconvenient, expensive or otherwise probably a dumb idea.
Absorbing the habit of going to the gym at 6am before being at work at 7:30 has largely worked, but buying only enough groceries to fit in the bar fridge at home? Well that's been more of a challenge.
Setting up a new life involves a million tiny decisions like
'Which mugs resonate with who I am as a person?' (Polka dots, obvs.)
'Is this apartment going to allow me to come the best version of myself?' (Upon further reflection, I don't think self is really limited by apartments)
'Do I want to be the kind of person who has white sheets and white towels? Won't it be like living in a hotel?' (But they're so lush and fluffy!)
'Is there any point to buying new clothes if we're leaving in the next couple of years?' (Clothes swaps and op shops FTW!)
'Am I willing to not eat for a week to be able to afford a city break somewhere in Europe?' (Usually yes, currently no - cancelling travel due to life being shut down.)
Sometimes the answers are obvious. Sometimes you don't like the answer. Sometimes the answer is flexible. Sometimes the answer takes you by surprise. Sometimes you simply don't know.
The other component of this is not knowing what other people's normal is.
Me: The roads are flooded from rain. There's massive puddles everywhere and all the drains are blocked, and gutters are really shallow. How come no one is doing anything about it? MB: Dublin's a really old city, and the infrastructure isn't up for it Me: But surely you'd keep upgrading the infrastructure over time? MB: *looks at me like I'm the freak*
Jared's Boss on Wed: We have work drinks tomorrow night. Make sure you're there, and that you have nothing serious planned for Friday morning. J: Ok, I'll be there. Thu night: J: I'm 5 Guinesses in, might need to slow down to be able to function tomorrow Colleague: *laughs in his face* J: *first to leave, at 11pm* J at 8am the next day: *Only person in office* Everyone else: stumbles in at some point before midday, some hungover, some still in yesterday's clothes as haven't been home yet. J at 5pm: *Only person left in office*
A new normal can be really challenging in a lot of ways, particularly if you're trying to calibrate your normal to someone else's.
It can make you wonder if your normal ways of thinking, speaking, doing life, your expectations and goals are weird, odd or downright freakish.
Here are some of the aspects that this can manifest:
Professionally
Jared had a job lined up before we left, but I wasn't even sure if I was legally allowed to work at first. If I was allowed to work, then I couldn't readily teach. Teaching required €300 for the registration, a shit load of paperwork - half of which was in New Zealand - and besides, Ireland was like a beautiful blank slate, I could be anything I wanted to be! Why would I limit myself to doing what I was doing in New Zealand? I have 3 tertiary qualifications, loads of experience, I'm generally a pretty great human, tech savvy and I have English as a first language. I thought all of these would create a winning combination that would mean I'd have my pick of good jobs from the outset.
It turned out that this was lies.
I applied for a great many jobs, and didn't even get an interview for most of them. My first job was at a hotel that had a revolving door of dissatisfied employees; the ones that stayed we're mostly immigrants from Eastern Europe with few qualifications or options.
Getting interviews was easier once I had some Irish experience, so I then graduated to crèche work. This didn't work out for anyone in the employment equation due to differing profession expectations. Crèches in Ireland are glorified kid jails, and are very jarring coming from a child-led play-based NZ context, where kids can choose where they play and there are no scheduled outside play times.
I then had 12 interviews in 2 weeks, for a vast range of roles, and secured a month-long summer job, then an ongoing casual job as a crèche reliever to start after my summer job, a nannying job to start in August, and - eventually, after I harassed them about why they didn't offer me the job - was offered a job in a tech start up that did financial paperwork for trading firms, working New York hours and occasionally travelling to New York and Amsterdam for training, but paying shit money.
So a 33% job offer rate. I suppose that's good? The problem was the process took forever - applied early June and didn't start until July (then didn't get paid until several weeks later), and the jobs I really wanted I didn't get offered. The job(s) I have now though are pretty awesome.
As I was trawling through all of these thousands of jobs to apply for, I imagined a thousand different iterations of myself - did I want to be a customer service officer for a software company? What would my life look like as a Shopify consultant, working from home? Would I excel as a case manager for people who've been unemployed and are transitioning to work? Would I be happy as a trainer at an IT training institute? Could I bullshit my way into working for the New Zealand Embassy as a driver? (Turns out the answer was no.) I would be amazing as a student liaison officer with high school students here on exchange - why couldn't they see that?!
I began to despair when, having arrived in February, by June, I had had more rejection letters than ever before in my life, and no clue what I could do to change any of these outcomes other than to blindly continue trying.
My imaginings of people being excited to have me as part of any team and me having the pick of a bunch of jobs were simply misguided at best, and deranged at worst.
People didn't want to take a risk on a generalist who had little to no local knowledge.
So now I have a mish-mash of income sources and it is probably my preferred way to earn a living, cos then I don't get too bored or frustrated with one job. I'm helping to raise 3 beautiful humans and teaching coding through Scratch, as well as a bit of regular babysitting. (Although due to Covid-19, my casual work has dried up and I'm on leave from my main job until Thursday, thankfully paid, but who knows how long that will continue.)
I'm now on what I consider to be a 'career break' and work 40 hours a week across 5 days, but also have 1.5 week days off to write. It's kind of a brilliant set up. Hopefully soon to add a bit of relief teaching into this mix as well - which will likely be a whole new world of creating new normals, new ways of engaging with students, new ways of thinking, doing and being.
Socially
Making friends as an adult can be challenging anywhere, if you've lived there your whole life or if you're the new kid on the block. Most people are like Lego bricks and already have their 5-6 people that they're really close to.
I've found the first year anywhere is hard socially, as establishing connections takes time, and usually also money. I don't really have the advantage of having colleagues as such given I work at someone's house, so that avenue of meeting people is out. Meetup has been a godsend, and we're looking into things like dance classes and choirs - as of this week all of which are currently cancelled.
There's a subtlety to the Irish that is largely lost on me. There's a great many people I've met at my various jobs that I've thought were really lovely and I try and pursue friendship with them by way of trying to arrange to hang out, and they'll initially agree, but then make excuses or cancel. I'm not sure if there's some friendship rules here I don't know about or if I've just not found the right people here yet or if there's some social cues I'm totally missing? This results in a fair bit of over-analysing my words and actions, and being less confident and casual than usual. I find trying to read their minds and figure out what they're actually thinking is exhausting.
(Possibly my scathing of the ineptitude of many facets of Irish life definitely doesn't help, and there was a time when a lot of my 'conversation' was just venting about how much less awesome Ireland was than NZ... this might be the crux of most of my problems.)
Also the thing of hosting people seems to be counter-cultural here. People look at me sideways if I say 'Come hang out at mine' or 'Why don't you come over for dinner sometime?' In fairness, there is 6 flights of stairs involved, so it is a bit of an ask.
Financially
I've already alluded to some of our money worries here, but it has taken awhile to adjust to my entire income going to rent, and being left with little in the way of disposable income between us. Compounding this frustration is the calibre of housing you get for that money is mediocre at best. In 2018 we lived on one salary, and saved the other, barely batting an eyelid.
Health
Looking after 5 children that go to 4 different schools, I'm constantly exposed to a plethora of germs and I've been really sick for a lot of the winter just gone. It has forced a greater degree of self-care and decrease in alcohol and sugar intake, which I'm simultaneously grateful for and also despise. It is very difficult to indulge in 'normal' unhealthy habits like going for a drink or having coffee if you don't have any health to gamble with!
It's not all bad though. Some of the new normals here I really like.
Exercise
I have a gym only 10 minutes away. I still don't make it as often as I'd like, but I get there 3 ish times a week, and I like doing weights. My muscles are strong and powerful. I want to be the kind of person that is fit and healthy. I swam a lot in NZ, but weights are new.
Eating
I work with kids who are fussy eaters. It has been a really powerful reminder as to how little humans need to actually exist. Both of their families are very, very health conscious, so I've had to be more so as well. This has permeated through to my home life, and while I have lost a little bit of weight since moving here, I haven't put any on which seems like more of a win.
Commuting
People laugh when we tell them that in NZ we lived in a small town and the furthest you could be was 15 min drive away from something.
I like walking everywhere. It is mildly annoying that it takes an hour to get anywhere in Dublin, but there's a bunch of cool things that one can do with that time, such as writing blog posts or listening to podcasts, or reading books, or just wistfully dreaming of warmth, watching the scenery go by.
The public transport is alright, but you can actually walk through the city centre in the same amount of time as bussing or catching the tram, so walking in definitely incentivised, despite the average weather.
Pubs/Night Life
There will always be a pub close by. Not that I frequent them all that often, but there is no end of amazing bars in Dublin, far and wide. There is always stuff happening, and endless array of music, theatre and craic, which is brilliant. (Although as of today, all of the pubs have been instructed to close. The day before St Patrick's Day. Shit just got real.)
History
Having a history is a new normal. New Zealand is a relatively young country, and has a relatively uneventful history, other than the mess of colonialism. New Zealanders are generally taught everyone else's history rather than our own, and it has been a big deal that the stories of the New Zealand Land Wars are now to be taught in NZ schools.
Ireland on the other hand... so very much history. There have been people here since at least 2000BC, possibly much more, and they have left all kinds of interesting relics and languages and archaeological sites behind. We've been here a year and despite being quite intentional about it, we have barely scratched the surface of learning about Irish history.
I think Irish history gets more interesting the more recent you get though - the 1916 Easter Rising, the War of Independence (1919-1921) and then the Irish civil war (1922-1923), and eventually attaining the goal of an Irish Republic (1949 officially) is so monumental, but also so recent. In some ways, having had such a turbulent last century, Ireland is still finding it's 'normal' as a country, in other ways, having this vast history means there's lots of traditions and culture dating back hundreds if not thousands of years. It can be used as a crutch to blame for things like shitty drainage and why Dublin must sprawl further out rather than build up in the city centre.
Creating a New Normal
The most challenging part of creating a new normal is how easy it is, and also how hard.
The more entrenched and used to a behaviour you are, as an individual or a nation, the harder it is to change. I think part of Kiwi culture is adapting because we have had to - our nation is young and we had to create a bunch of stuff from scratch. We seem to have a normal of looking at what other people have done, deciding it wasn't that good and finding a better way. Change is largely embraced, and if there is a better way of doing things, then that is usually adopted, stat. We have worked hard to learn from the mistakes of other countries, and in a lot of ways have created a pretty amazing progressive little country. (We shall leave the housing crisis, child poverty, the state of the education system and environmental degradation as another adventure for another time...)
You learn early on as a teacher that finding good systems and good habits affects more than just you - it sets your whole classroom up for success or failure based on how good your habits are, so I've learned to reflect, adapt, tweak and implement as a professional habit. Critiquing my normal is a professional discipline.
I remember working at Milson with 2 other amazing professionals and the head teacher would just decide that something wasn't working, ask for suggestions to fix it, and then fix it immediately. The next day, we would change it and tell the kids. The kids were fine with it; it was the adults who took the time to adjust.
I'm quite critical of change for the sake of change, but change for streamlining systems, increased efficiency, decreased costs, less chaos or mess, that is change I can get on board with! Surely, this is how we grow as individuals, but also how we progress as a society?
Trying to scaffold this process in my current job has proved amazingly difficult, to the point where some days I wonder why I bother. After all, it's their home, their kids, who am I to try to improve their ways of doing life? I have no mandate for change other than my own obsession with 'helping' people. They seem to be absolutely fine with their status quo; it's only me that has a problem with it.
And so part of my new normal is to accept their normal, and that I might not have any influence on it. I have to learn to be OK with that.
That one grates.
So in the mean time, I focus on myself, and trying to create a more environmentally friendly normal, a more plastic-free normal, and pondering if I want cycling 20km a day to be part of my new normal. (I bought a bike yesterday, so turns out the answer is yes!)
Looking for name suggestions for my new Pedego electric bike
Gotta put on the shades cos my helmet's so bright!
Who Even Am I?
The question eventually boils down to how do you define who you are?
I've taken in a lot of pride in being an outspoken go-getter who never takes no for an answer, who's persistent, bright, charming and delightful, firm but fair and a force to be reckoned with. I pride myself in tactfully delivering loving-but-necessary bluntness, calling people on their bullshit and being a person who is willing to say what needs to be said. Standing up for what I believe in. I am fun, creative, impassioned, a resourceful problem solver and boy, you wanna be with me? Good luck to you trying to keep up.
If you take away your profession, circle of friends, family, house, car, ways of thinking, if your entire body of professional learning is up for debate and no one seems to value the same things you do... what are you left with?
Do I need to have people agree with me to be OK with who I am? Is who I am only valid when someone else validates me? Am I really that insecure?
I really credited myself with more conviction of character than that. Maybe I'm not really as confident and kick-ass as I think I am...
And if I'm not... well, what then? Does my perception of who I am not actually match the reality of who I am? What else have I deceived myself about? Is a little bit of believing your own bullshit about how shit-hot you are necessary to surviving difficult situations?
Surely, you are more than the sum of your words and your actions, but how much more? If your words and your actions are situation-specific and open to change, then what about the beliefs and values that underpin them? Are you your values and beliefs? Are you your likes and dislikes? Your ways of thinking? Your sense of humour? The language you use? Your reactions? What happens when all of that is challenged? How much of that is up for debate and change when you're in a new country?
I used to teach kids in my class how people are like icebergs: we only see what they say and do, but that is created from a whole lot of other stuff.
And while I was looking for a good example of that, I came across this...
Culture as an iceberg
Which might be more appropriate for my current angst. Kiwi culture is reasonably hard to articulate, but it is definitely there. I remember the first time that I went overseas, someone typifying it as more like an attitude, a way of looking at the world that is respectful, reserved, open-minded and optimistic, curious and kind, we don't take ourselves too seriously, and we've got all that creative, can-do, number 8 wire stuff.
I don't know why, but this somehow encapsulates kiwiness for me.
So if we know that we are 'culturally located', and that one facet of who I am is being a Kiwi, then how much of that am I willing to adjust, tweak or otherwise forsake?
You can take the Lauren out of New Zealand, but can you take the New Zealand out of Lauren, and more importantly - would you want to? And what I would be left with? If 'Being Lauren' is comprised of more components than just being from New Zealand, what is the more? And is it an asset or a liability here?
Obviously there's always parts of your character you can tweak, but having yourself on review, seeing yourself as a problem to be solved is a really harrowing uncomfortable position to be in. I like the idea of honing yourself to being the best version of yourself that you can be, but how uncomfortable is too uncomfortable? How many parts of yourself can be under review at any point in time before you've reviewed and tweaked and changed so many parts of yourself that you are no longer the essential 'you' that once you were?
Lived self: full range of lived behaviours, cognitions and emotions
Learned self: sets of conscious/unconscious rules and roles
Core self: past current and potential working self-concept Level of congruence between different layers of self may vary depending on level of awareness of one's different 'selves' and degree of (mis)alignment and/or (in)consistency between different 'selves'. Expression of different 'selves' also depends on interaction or 'ought' (should) and 'want' mentality of individuals.
This outlines 'self-concept' as your core self, a deeper version of the 'perceived self', which is what others see. The idea that who you are is not what other see or hear is ubiquitous. So what else is there to it?
A model designed to help understand the differences between Aboriginal Australians and other Australians.
I like that this model positions 'self' within all of these different layers such as financial resources, family obligations, role models, miscommunication. The youness of you is made of all kinds of things like coping mechanisms and boredom. I imagine that some of these layers can change shape and sometimes expand to cope with the vastness of you and other times contract and feel like a noose, like when culture is challenged or financial resources are tight.
Homestead on the Corner Lesson 4
By far and away the version that I resonate with is one that is actually designed to help authors make authentic characters. I do sometimes feel like I am writing myself into the saga of my life. This mysterious 'true self' is planted in a garden of needs, and I like that personality is a level out, as if it is somehow external to the 'real you'. Culture in this context seems quite external, which I find interesting because right now my personality and how it is situated and whether or not it is socially or culturally rewarded seem to be a lot of my struggle.
If all of those things are already taken into account though, it does beg the question of what is left in your 'true self', your subconscious interior.
We are told so very very often to just be authentically yourself.
We are told to defy our (feminine) norm of trying to fit in and conform, to not people-please but
Stand out! Sure, you're a bit weird, so is everybody else. But like ice cream flavours, it's great when things a little bit different.
In fact, this thing where you try to fit in? It is overrated.
The internet has so very many instruction manuals on how to ensure 'you do you, baby'.
But what happens if who you are at the moment is not actually that nice a person?
What about if you are scared, neurotic, bigoted, controlling, loud, impulsive, domineering, lording over other people, condescending and generally kinda a pain in the arse? Is this the 'yourself' you're supposed to be?
No. We are supposed to be the version of ourselves that is the most socially rewarded right? Social censuring is supposed to work. We are supposed to listen to the body language, the cues and the customs, the vernacular and the values of those around us.
If the version of 'self' you possess happens to take delight in burning things down or likes the thought of ridding the world of a particularly annoying person, is that the self you're supposed to embrace? Or should one take solace in the fact that that is merely a behaviour and not fundamentally 'who you are' or your 'essence' and changing behaviour is more like the software of yourself where you can install an update, rather than the hardware of yourself, your CPU that is how you interpret and understand the world.
We simultaneously hold this idea of 'be yourself' with 'fit in' and we have to figure out how to do both and not break our relationship with ourselves, or our relationships with others.
So what happens when there are negative social or economic consequences for you being yourself? What if who you are is loud and slightly chaotic and disorganised and dogmatic? Do you still continue to be unabashedly you if you might lose your job? What about if no one likes you?
You change.
You adapt your words, your behaviour, right? You tweak your perceived 'self'. You accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative, even if the parameters of what is considered positive and what is negative have changed.
In the same way you highlight your lovely lips or fluttering eyelashes with make up, you cover up your personality blemishes as well with coping strategies, alcohol, sleep, self-help books, different behaviours, different jobs, different friends, and in extreme cases, different countries.
I cover up forgetfulness with reminders and disclaimers, and self-centredness with mental exercises like imagining life in another's shoes, reading and trying to listen more. We are not doomed to our default settings.
We laud it as 'change', and 'progress' to ourselves, but I don't know about you, I will never be able to get enough organisational strategies to compensate for the natural chaos that comes out of me in a Pandora's-box-type fashion when given the chance of an art activity or baking blitz. It will always be a battle between the hardware of spontaneity and crazy chaos and the software of order and control.
Is there not something equally as valid in coming to terms with these limitations of ourselves as there is in coming to terms with our bitchin' brilliance? Do we not need both?
I think certainly we do need to curtail the extremities of ourselves sometimes and in some circumstances. I think this is necessary to a certain extent to function in polite society. It is necessary to maintain a job or relationships or housemates.
What about when these changes start to impinge on your essence, your true self? Is that even possible? How many habits can you change before you are unrecognisable to the old you? Are you more than the sum of your habits? What if the old you simply ceases to exist? Does that mean you are no longer being true to yourself or like a growing reptile, have you simply shed an outdated skin?
Or is that just realising that that habit or person or belief no longer fits in your life. It no longer serves a purpose.
What if you don't like the new you, but everyone else does? Do you shut up and live with it because the consequences of not doing so are too vast?
This whole unapologetically be yourself thing is a fucking sham. Who you are is culturally specific, and continuing to unabashedly be that person in a new culture is somewhere between insensitive and just plain obtuse - though exactly where, I've not yet worked out.
In case you haven't already figured it out, the Irish culture rewards Jared's personality much more than it does mine, and so I now need to make some decisions about exactly which parts of myself I'm going to say actually no I like that, and I do not care about your opinion on it, and which parts I'm going to have to sit down and deconstruct then reconstruct. Which critiques are valid?
Unfortunately for me, a lot of them skip the external layers of identity and seem to cut right to the core of my values and beliefs, and I'm without the luxury of being able to agree to disagree. These situations have not ended well for me in most of my life to date, and have usually resulted in ceased employment or imploded friendships or relationships, so here's hoping I can find a middle road between disappointing myself and disappointing others.
Like I do not even know what that means anymore...
When I lived in Laos I read Bryce Courtnay's Whitethorn, a harrowing story of a boy growing up in an orphanage in South Africa. As he became a man he discovered the saying 'to thine own self be true', as he was reading something one day, and it was then quoted several times throughout the book. For my super-fundamentalist Christian self at the time, where the mantra was 'less of me, more of you God', that was a revolutionary thought.
So the next chapter in the story of being true to myself is how can I still be true to myself, but also be (the Irish version of) good at my job? Which expectations need to change or cease? Which beliefs need to be challenged or changed? Which habits broken? Where are my red lines? What are my deal breakers?
I've gotten as far as formulating them into actual questions made up of actual words instead of a swirling mess of anxiety...
Now for some answers...
And maybe some kindness and self-compassion.
Which parts of your 'normal' have you struggled with? Do you find it hard to change your internal circumstances or your external circumstances? Have you moved countries or cities and had to adapt? Is change something you dread or look forward to? What kind of changes do you find easy? I'd love to hear your comments on this.
