Ole’ Man Seifert

Last year one of my favourite things that happened in my classes was the advent and writing of the school paper; Second Beach Stag Party. Our boardroom sessions hold a place in my heart and I hope to continue with something similar when I get back, but in the meantime Ole’ Man Seifert has evolved.

In two weeks time I will be accompanying a class on a study trip to Dublin, and as we approach the trip our focus in class has shifted to all things Dublin and Irish. As I was doing my own reading I came across a column in the Irish Times written by a fictional character (http://www.irishtimes.com/ross-o-carroll-kelly-7.1837434), and I was reminded of Ole’ Man Seifert (who was a fictionalized version of myself, a little older, a little grumpier).

So now my students have created fictional Dubliners who are writing columns reflecting what we have been learning about Ireland and the whole process is a lot of fun. Our invented characters make us consider what an Irish character might be like, and through these characters I will be able to read what they have learned. A little fiction, a little creativity, but we still have writing reflecting thoughts on the materials studied.

Today’s class will start with a sharing of what their fictional character did on the weekend; Breen O’Sullivan (my character) works at Guinness with his father. He started Friday after work with a couple of pints with his da, and he stayed on after his da went home to have a few with his mates. He managed to pick up some food at the chippie and stumbled home knowing that if he went back to join his mates he wouldn’t make it home. When he got there he started watching his old tape of the Ireland vs. England match from Italia 90 when they tied 1-1 and Ireland went on to appear in the quarter finals where they lost to Italy 1-0. He sang himself to sleep (mostly The Fields of Athenry) well before half time. Saturday was a write off cause he felt like shite all day and Sunday he spent with the family celebrating the baptism of his sisters fifth child, finally a daughter. (My own character and his actions owe a lot to the recent influence of Roddy Doyle who writes Irish English so you can hear it)

Portugal

We recently put another stamp in our passports (metaphorically speaking since we haven’t seen a stamp since arriving in Denmark) when we went to Portugal on our winter break. For the boys it was love at first site, palm trees, ocean, and a guy playing the accordion on the subway with a small dog on his shoulder. This trip was planned with the kids in mind, not that they all aren’t, but this one even more so. 

We went to a town called Cascais, which took maybe an hour to get to from the airport in Lisbon.

The hotel was near the ocean and it had a pool, these being the two things the boys insisted on. Most of our time was spent either in or around the pool, or walking along the oceanfront. We were lucky enough to have our accommodations upgraded and on the days we had sun we saw it nearly all day from our wrap-around balcony on the top floor. The weather was mixed, but one day it was nice enough that we sat on the balcony in shorts and luxuriated in the sun.

The oceanfront was largely rocky with a few beaches here and there, but the rocks were beautiful and the crashing waves were dramatic. The times we could descend to the shore we had fun climbing and were thrilled with the proximity to the powerful waves whose fallout provided us with the occasional shower. 

On sunny days we saw lizards (one bit Gus’s jacket and wouldn’t let go) and even a snake.

Our one ‘tourist’ day we took a bus to a region called Sintra which is built on a large forested hill where we visited the remains of a castle built by Muslim occupants in the 8^th or 9^th century and the Pena National Palace (far more recent- 18oo’s). 

The bus ride was a ride I will always remember, the bus going quite fast down impossibly narrow and winding roads. We stopped off at the western most point in Europe and took some pictures, exchanging cameras with a girl and her mother and taking pictures for each other.

We stayed one night in Lisbon on our way back and enjoyed walking through town where at one point I was separated from the boys and Leanne for a few moments, long enough so that someone asked if I might want to buy some joints. Leanne thought it was funny because I also seem to attract the people selling religion, I had been targeted a few days earlier in Cascais, I guess I must look like I’m looking for something.

That was Portugal, a quick visit and one more country to add to the tally of countries visited. Strange how we can visit so many countries but if we were back home and travelled the same distances we could still be in Canada.