I had a great day at work today, despite the fact that I had
a headache. Yesterday, on a whim, I had
rewritten the last supplemental activity in my manual. It actually turned out to be a really good
activity that challenged even the cockiest guy in the class. I was pretty proud of how cool it turned out
despite the fact that I had written it in about 30 minutes. It was divine, that’s all I can say. I have learned a lot from this training
period. I need to put a lot more work
into cleaning up the curriculum…if Randy lets me.
For lunch, LFand I walked down the street and went to
the Sandwich Co. Yes…again. I got the same thing, BLT and soup. It was still good, even for the third time.
Tonight, LF, DS, and I went to La Sosta for
dinner. It was a fancy Italian
restaurant that was down an alley and through an unmarked door. We figured that Americans alone for Thanksgiving
should stick together. Dinner was
excellent. I had a Farfalle e pollo con
asparagi (farfalle with chicken and asparagus).
I also got a side order of garlic bread in olive oil. And I finished it off with chocolate pudding
with cacao powder.
But as good as the food was, that was not the highlight of
the dining experience. On our way out,
we met a local (and seemingly more widespread) celebrity. John Hume, who along with David Trimble, won
the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1998 “for their efforts to find a peaceful
solution to the conflict in Northern Ireland.”
He chatted us up, asking about our visit to Derry, where we were
staying, about our business, etc. We
didn’t realize the magnitude of the moment until we were walking through
Bogside and saw his picture painted on the side of a building alongside Nelson
Mandela, Mother Teresa, and Martin Luther King, Jr. I told Marguerite, the lady at the front desk
about him, and she told me that he eats at that restaurant every night. Everyone around here knows John, and now we
do too.
After dinner, LF, DS, and I walked around, so LF could take pictures. We walked all over
town and even down to Free Derry, so she could see the murals. At one of the pubs in town, The Anchor Bar,
we found a guy outside smoking a cigarette.
When LF pointed her camera in his direction, he started posing and
waving his hands around and smiling. I
knew right off that he was probably gay based on his behavior. He confirmed this fact himself when he
started talking to us. He suddenly
looked down, realized he was still smoking a cigarette, and said, “Oh my god, I
hope she didn’t get the fag in the picture!”
Laughing to myself, I thought, “I’m pretty sure that was exactly what
she was trying to take a picture of.”
LF and DS were completely oblivious to the double meaning that
“fag” in the UK actually refers to a cigarette.
