Can the social model survive?

The Working Time Directive debate may finally come to a head in the European Union. Much of Europe, particularly France, wants Great Britain to opt-in to the directive, rather than its current opt-out position. The UK is the most influential country in Europe to not limit its work week to 48 hours as the WTD states.

I realize that Europe has a different work ethic and lifestyle than the United States. Yet it appears to be so much of the politics between the European nations that pushes this debate. Is it little wonder that it is France, who has the 35 hour work week, is pushing to bring the UK into the WTD? The British work more than the French and less than the Italian, according to the IHT article. Interesting? Yes.

Moreover, a representative at European Reform Centre said that the workaholics in business and the financial sector will continue to work overtime, regardless of salary. Such legislation is designed to protect workers for their health and to protect those who could be used for their labor and paid little. That may be true, but what about the people who want to work more hours in order to earn more money? It limits the poor as to how many hours they are able to work a week and must survive on it. These are the people who are more likely to be on hourly wages rather than yearly salaries as the business people will be. Salaries allow more flexibilty and security as job attendance is not tied to the limited amount of money available. If a family emergency occurs, then the business people often have the resources to take days off, knowing that money will arrive home and work can be done early or immediately after return. Hourly wages allow less flexibility for the workers who need the money from each hour that he or she works. Such policies need revision and more careful analysis.

Reminds me of home

"Suburbia is where the developer bulldozes out the trees, then names the streets after them."
--Bill Vaughan--

One more day up in the canyon

"We are here to add what we can to life, not to get what we can from it." -William Osler-

A friend recently said that one of the qualities he most admired was the ability to live life to the fullest. I was thinking about that this afternoon, when I talked with T. T couldn't be more exuberant than when praising our creative writing class. He is 44 but looks to be 30. I consider him as an author and romantic at heart. He served in the police force for 13 years before succumbing to a crack cocaine addiction. He resigned and worked in a warehouse in order to make ends meet and continue to feed his addiction. Now, he's in an upward swing and in love once again. T regaled me with tales of his 3 year old granddaughter and how his relationship with his son has changed since he has come out of rehab. In a few months, he hopes to rejoin his old job and get married to his fiancee.

Walking back down Eager Street today reminded me of Mabija street. It's a typical Charm City street where people congregate on the front steps and stare at the racially different people who walk by. There are chain-link fences and brick rowhouses with brightly painted window frames. Paint is falling off the cheap liquor store on the corner. You can kick the empty metallic bags that once held individual servings of potato chips (regular and sour cream and onion, normally). More trash and other gristle lies on the sidewalks. The bricks are uneven, and I shudder to think of the effects on an auto's shocks. When I drive by this area at night, I'm always surprised to see the number of people who are just standing or sitting. Such constant inactivity is not necessarily off-putting, just unnerving. It's a different world.

It's not to say that I'm not extremely content right now. On the contrary, I am. I sincerely enjoy my somewhat surreal state. Today, I revisited, albeit briefly, Arisotelian ethics and the principle of virtue. I find inspiration in a statue in an institution that promises some of the best tertiary care in the world. In class, I find myself listening more than I talk. Education comes in the form of lectures, planned conferences, and the internet. It's a sheltered world, one that has more good than bad.

Many have said that they love to make a difference in the life of a child. I concur. Yet, today, out of my bubble, I felt as if I've added something to the world in the life of an adult. And this seemed more real to me than the rest of my day.

Five and a half weeks

Coming to Ireland, I set out to blog my experiences. For being a capitalistic meritocracy like the United States, Ireland does have its quirks that I've been adjusting to since I've arrived.

Irish time. It's not just a newspaper and it's not to the same extent as Italy or South Africa. Classes start at ten past the hour and if you are meeting a group of friends at the pub, expect them to arrive within a ninety minute window. Accordingly, it is smart to know if one person will arrive somewhat on time. Otherwise, I walk around the block a few times. I've had a taxi ride that gave me flashbacks of NYC cabbies and buses that drop me off with a few minutes before my train was to depart. Everything gets done in its own time. That's what the Irish tell me, I tell myself, and hope that Irish time won't fail me.

Food and drink. It doesn't bother me to go shopping more frequently for groceries, though I often wish that my fridge was larger. I continually tell myself that having a dishwasher is ample compensation. However, individual college students had this size fridge in their dorm rooms for one or two people. Not four. My housemates and I make it work, though it's the least ideal part of my townhouse. The Saturday market is fabulous for organic vegetables, hot curries (when I don't feel like cooking a hot lunch), and browsing homemade crafts. If only I could afford to buy more organic products....

Beverages really should have their own paragraph. With hour breaks between many of my lectures, my classmates and I will go have a cup of tea. Or lunch. Multiple times. The wet-cold weather is chilling, though hot tea or a pint does help. The first couple of weeks, my classmates and I were out at College Bar or City Centre for a pint (or more). Unfortunately, work is piling up and I'm discovering that Ireland is an expensive place to live. Pubs are great- cannot not say enough about the atmosphere to sit around and get to know people. (I've also gone out for coffee and dinner, so please don't think I only go drinking. There is no way I could ever outdrink the Irish.)

Having gotten back from my orientation trip in Dublin this past weekend, I've been thinking a lot more about how ingrained the American culture is in me. I need my time to talk with my American friends about arrival and adjustment experiences. We laugh about the cultural differences and slang. Yet I find that it's rather tiring to find out that there's still more slang that I don't know. Sometimes I can understand the general meaning, other times, I am worried that I dont' know and have to ask. Today I learned that calling someone a legend is not comparing him or her to Paul Bunyan or the Beatles. Rather, that person is brilliant (caution, not in the genius sense.) Easy enough. Until I come across the phrase "I'm chuffed." No context there. (It has a positive connotation.)

References to old TV shows go over my head and I only know the American TV shows. The other Mitchells and I were in the live studio audience at the Ryan Tubridy Show (similar to the Conan O'Brian show). I ended up telling only Derek that I was going to attend since I didn't realize it was a show that others watched. It was a good time- complete with the guest appearance of the Hoff. Yes, I was seen on television in the audience. The show is broadcast on one of the Irish TV networks, RTE.

I definitely miss the familiarity of my life at Kenyon. I miss having someone cook my meals and being able to walk across campus and recognizing the majority of people that I meet. That's not to say that I'm not having a brilliant time in Galway. It's just that sometimes I wish I knew more people. My classmates are my social network. Reminds me of Kenyon in that sense. However, I have my own place now and have more time to myself. More relaxing in general.

Don't get me wrong. I've found so many of the Irish students and people that I've met to be generous, friendly, and possess a good sense of humor. That sense of humor might be dark or sarcastic, but it is rarely malicious. The idea of buying rounds at pubs is so natural. That is one thing that I wish to improve throughout the year. Buying rounds without being rude or unaware. They don't say much about themselves but are nonetheless curious about others.

It's exciting to know the other Mitchells around Ireland. They will come visit me and I will visit them. Also, it is just good to know others on this island. I do think of Ireland as an island. Probably because I see the ocean every day.

Yes, I have seen Martin Sheen walking along the Concourse on his way to class at NUI Galway. No, I haven't talked with him.

Following Twins baseball isn't the same as being in the States, much less in Minnesota.