It's strange. Despite living and working in Washington D.C., I haven't really gotten to know it yet. Everyone is so busy that they spend their time metro to building, from metro to bus, shunning daylight in favour of air-conditioning. Having spent alot time cruising on commuter buses, riding the metro in the bowels of the city, I came to the realisation that I need to spend equal time actually "living" in the city.
With this in mind, I took an early Monday-morning walk to the White House and just sat there. I was deliberately trying to make myself in awe of it. I tried to think of all the world-changing decisions that are deliberated in the building ahead of me. The thing is about Washington is that the inescapable truth is that you are in the epicentre of the Western world. My metro stop every morning is the Pentagon. From the door of my internship building I can see the White House Flags and the Congress building. The myopic vision I had had of the city seemed kind of ungrateful at that point. Suddenly an unnaturally large squirrel jumped onto the bench where I was sitting. Deep in its inky eyes I could see the steely stare of a psychopath- intent reaking evil- Immediately I sprang from my park bench with a scream and sprinted to the nearest Starbucks. It was nice and cool inside.
My internship went well this week. My project, despite my complete lack of comprehension, is progressing! A trait of all the Americans we've met- host families, colleuges etc- is a genuine desire to help you out without much in return. This attitude is prevelent in my OEI EPA ABC office. It makes it easy to come to work when everyone includes you, reponds to you and are nice about your stupid questions. My supervisor Brendan and all the staff have definately made me feel like this! Another trait of the Washington 'Working-World' is that there is always some one to take you to lunch! I had this pleasure with John McShane, sometimes photographer for WIP. Having a casual Friday policy also helps.
I was told this week that I would be chairing a panel on Wednesday night. The panel will consist of journalists such as Nell Henderson (formerly of the Washington Post) and Mark Leibovich (The New York Times). Liking the sound of my own voice without having the committment/concentration to formulate an opinion on anything has lead me to journalism.The prospect of interacting and learning about such eminant journalists is something that I am really excited about. I'm sure those at the core of WIP idealology would shudder at the fact that my overwhelming self-doubt is making me rather worried. No one wants to stutter, dripple, trip, faint, fall, blank, spontaenously combust infront of those they admire. Visions of all of these things befalling me as well as the entire audience, including the school bully from primary school, revolting in robust laughter with pointing and rotten fruit projectiles have been plagueing me too. The phrase 'what is the worst that could happen' fails to soothe me. Watch this space for the outcome...or the news, if things go really awry.
At the Weekend SAWIP and WIP united on a yellow-school bus to go to Hemlock outdoor pursuits centre. Our team overcame our challenges through literally blood (from clare falling), sweat (ugh) and tears (dust got into my eye) We had bondage (the zip-line harnesses) and bonding. Myself and SAWIP Cheri conquered our fear of heights on the zip line. We lost all sense of personal space and hygene. Not wearing business casual, being in the countryside was a well needed change of tack from the previous week. It was a definate highlight of the trip so far.
We were then taken to O'Hara's BBQ in their amazing house. We felt like whey-faced, orphine kids being taken in by charitable hosts to let them forget, even if just for a day, the banal horrors of everyday living. A pool, stunning house, enormous garden, a private lake, a labradoogle (labrador crossed with poodle) dog - we were in our element!
We were cruelly snatched from paradise that evening. Pathetic fallacy being what it is, moments later, thunder, lightening and torrential rain battered our yellow bus as we trundelled back to D.C.
Aoibhinn celebrated her birthday with a dignified, enlightened affair at Lucky bar. I'm waiting until either she or certain MT become famous so I can retire on the profits from leaking those pictures to the press.
On Sunday morning, we were welcomed to Mount Lebanon Baptist Church. Sister Act- eat your heart out! The choir and pastor were enthrawling with their endless energy and enthusiasm. Overcoming our acquired 'stiff-upper-lips' we all managed to enjoy the sermon. Afterwards, WIP and SAWIP sang for their supper, or lunch as we usually call 'supper' at 1 p.m. All acts were, as predicted, supurb.
The luminous red punch was less of a treat, and also far more liquidy than the performers.
Ginny and I then went to an Ancient Order of Hibernians fund-raiser where a woman shouted at us for not dancing. We shouted back. A bottle was thrown. No it wasn't. We went for a lovely dinner and then went home.
And they all lived happily ever after....
