Magical Mystery Tour

There are things here in Ireland which have become mysteries to me - little things that you would never expect to trouble you. 

Take, for instance, phone numbers. For all of us living in the Americas, phone numbers have a wonderful rhythm to them. A simple pattern that makes you sure that you have all the numbers, in the right order, with all the hyphens in the correct place. When you ask someone for their number, it should go something like "five, five, five", pause, "one, two three", pause, "zero, zero, four, five". Simple. Of course, occasionally you get someone who is unfamiliar with the usual number etiquette, and they with try and finish the phone number with an extra pause. Example : "zero, zero", pause, "forty-five". Acceptable, but truly a faux pas in my mind. Well, here in Ireland, there is no such etiquette. There are so many numbers that the usual pattern does not work and you end up with five numbers with no place to go. Where do I put them? Should I say them all at once at the end? Or should I put a few estranged number out in front, as though awaiting execution? I have no idea. God forbid someone ask me for my number - I wouldn't know how to respond! And then if you have an international phone there is an odd code that goes in front of it. I end up saying my phone number in a really obscure way, with three numbers at a time, then maybe four, follower by five and one final number. All said somewhat cautiously, in case they are Irish and are silently judging me for being a newcomer and not knowing the unspoken number code. There has to be one - how else would they exchange numbers. You can't mean to tell me it is all willy-nilly with numbers here. There must be a system! I find myself listening in on conversations, trying to see if they will exchange numbers in the hopes that I will find a discernible rhythm. Of course, then I end up looking like a creepy stalker and that never goes well. I pray that some local will come up to me and impart wisdom upon my lost soul.

Another mystery is addresses. Again, something thought of as simple. Why, I don't even remember learning how to address a letter - it was just common knowledge I suppose. But here across the Atlantic it has become a daily trial. The big mystery is the postal code. I can't seem to find it. No really, I don't know if there is one in my address. What I am assuming is the postal code, if it could be considered that, has letters in it mixed in with the numbers. Letters!!! Which makes me think that it isn't the postal code at all. And if it isn't, what is? Also, when filling out a form that requires an address; what do I put? I have got the road down. But then it gets confusing. Belfast - yes that would be the city, Northern Ireland - wait, is that the equivalent to the state, or is it the country?If it is the country where should I put it?, United Kingdom - okay, so that must be the country....or is it? I know I have to include it somewhere on the letter, perhaps I should just add it at the end after the postal code. Wait, wait - where is the postal code?! Is it that thing with letters or does that go with the road part? When did writing an address get so confusing? And then there are the mail boxes. They look like giant, red fire hydrants. I don't want to put my mail in there, it might prevent the Irish firemen from doing their job! I walked past one three times because I didn't know it was the mail box. Then, when the postal worker told me that those "red hydrants" were in fact the mail boxes, I walked around it a few times just to be sure he wasn't fooling me. I did end up mailing the letters, but addressing them was such a hassle I don't know if they will even make it to the States.

And another thing. My knowledge tells me that big bugs don't thrive as well in the cold. The bugs are bigger in Florida than they are in Pennsylvania, it is just a fact. So, I naturally assumed that the same logic applyed to Ireland. It is cold here, so there should be no exceedingly large bugs. Lies. The spiders here are huge. I mean it, monster bugs. I found three fist sized spiders in our kitchen on one occasion. I killed the first one on sight, a knee jerk reaction, but was then chided by everyone else in the kitchen. How dare I kill that innocent insect. Innocent!!! The thing jumped out at me! It wrote its own death warrant. Then the second one was captured and taken outside to please the more animal friendly folks, yet when the third appeared and I began attempting to trap and release it back into the wild, unanimous cries burst forth from the kitchen to "Kill it! Kill it!!" Unfortunately, I was not quick enough and it escaped under the fridge. On the bright side, the spider sightings have cut down the kitchen crowd considerably.

These are the things that keep me up at night; phone numbers, addresses, and killer spiders. Welcome to Ireland.

Kelsey
P.S. Something very strange is going on with my computer and I realize that there are three different fonts going on in this post - Forgive me, I am trying to fix it.