This is gonna be a short n’ sweet post because I’m exhausted. I’ve been working since last Wednesday and I have one more shift to go until I have a day off, which, by the way, begins in 8 hours. I feel like I’m working hard and getting along with the people I work with a lot. One staff member and I discussed their visit to Scotland in November. I keep needing to remind myself that I’ve only been here for three weeks, but because I live here too I see these people all the time, and there is no time for a “work persona.” You just have to be yourself (apart from with guests obviously – when a level of formality is always expected.) But it makes for a refreshing work experience. I also got my name mentioned on hostelbookers.com as part of a positive comment which made me absolutely beam. One can feel proud of themselves once in a while when they worked to deserve it.
Anyway, my Irish meal. Also known as the longest day of 2013. I went up to help a colleague at 11am, four hours before my shift started. However, I ended up staying and sort of tidying up a bit anyways. At 1 my boss came to take me to go shopping. We bought about 5 kilograms of lamb, a bag of onions, three bags of carrots, four leeks and 2 kilograms of potatoes. And I cooked the whole thing between 3:30 and 7:30. We bought some cheese and I managed to source some Guinness.
Even though I was super stressed it was really rewarding to see everyone sitting and taking pictures of the Guinness. We lined all the boxes (all 12 of them) along the wall like wall paper and everyone was posing next to them before the food came out. I served up 21 people a hearty Irish stew, with bread and cheese and beer for about 6.50 EUR and literally almost every plate was cleared. I personally didn’t like it that much but I think I’d just hacked away at the bones and gristle for too long to find it appealing. But my guests didn’t know about that. And I was pleased. About 2 people asked for the recipe and 3 asked for seconds. It was a catalyst to a great evening. For everyone else. I went to bed at about half ten and was asleep by eleven. Everyone else partied. I was just glad I slept through it all.
I keep needing to remind myself I’ve been here for less than a month. I’m hard on myself about my level of Portuguese but I’ve been speaking to some Brazilians and they just thought I was Spanish rather than some flailing Brit, which gave me a little boost. When I cam clean about my nationality they were really appraising of my level of Portuguese. I can understand way more than I speak. But I suppose that’s how babies learn. I am a Portuguese baby. Coddle me….