Now, it could never be said that I had a voice like velvet. I agree that when it came to choosing between me and Richard ´The Love God´ Mercer for the best person to host Love Song Dedications, they definitely weren´t flipping a coin.
However, I never thought I had a voice akin to freshly pressed sandpaper. (Do they press sand paper?) But apparently this is the case. My teachers here take inordinate delight in imitiating my inflection whenever I make what I think is a well turned phrase. The way they would have it I sound like someone torturing a kitten.
And what the hell is wrong with my bottom? I mean it is not going to set the world atalking, but I myself feel that it is a fairly shapely body part.
What do these two things have in common? Nothing. Well, nothing that is except last night´s festivities. (Although some people I am sure will suggest that I talk out of my arse.)
These were just some of the topics that arose when me and a few other fellow students were taken out by a few of our professers (namely Carla, Tamara and Cathy) to be shown the ´real´ Santiago nightlife. This consisted of sitting, listening to some live music and drinking ´Borgoña´ and ´Terromoto´ both of which were similar to Sangria, similar in the sense that they contained about 72 types of spirits, fruit juice and different bits of fruit. Suffice to say I was somewhat sloshed quite early in the piece.
What followed was a series of empassioned and surprisingly frank conversations. ON top of this there were some communal renditions of Disney favourites in both english and spanish. ´Under the Sea´ became ´Abajo del Mar´, ´I just can´t wait to be King´ became ´No puedo esperar ser el Rey´and ´Mnah Mnah´ became... ´Mnah Mnah´ To top it off some questions were thrown back and forth about the nature of the english language that were a bit pointed in character.
´What is wanker, Patrick?´ Cathy asked.
´Sebastian, what is the difference between f**king and making love?´
´Well... it is a bit hard to explain...´I began. Deary me. Deary, deary me.
Wouldn´t you rather talk about...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
It´s all in the hips...
I now know the difference between these glorious Latinos and the rest of us poor Germanic/Asian/whatever sods. Well, at least the difference as my teacher Lydia (a different one to the one I am living with) would have us believe.
It lies in the ability to make your buttocks look like a fight between two cats in a sack any time you hear something that even suggests the shadow of a rhythm. To move with the hips, not with the arms and feet.
And she´s right. These people really do know how to move their bodies. The term ´Sex on legs´ has never been more appropriately applied. (Her impression of the way the rest of us dance, really didn´t do a lot to endear her to me. Apparently
everyone else looks like a complete tool on the dancefloor. And here I thought it was just me.)
This relevation was expressed around 2am on a Saturday morning, after we had been treated to a ravishing display of tango dancing. Did you know there are two major schools of tango dancing - street and stage? Or how about the fact that each school has around 6 or 7 major variations. If you didn´t, you do now.
The couple we saw went through around 7 costume changes, and clearly had being dancing together for a very long time. The fluidity and precision with which they moved their hips and legs was almost beyond belief. Good thing too, otherwise I don´t think Mr Tango Dancer would have had much chance of fathering children. I thoughtlessly had not brought my camera, however I chanced over the same couple a few days later in the street and a photo of them is just below this entry.
Lydia then insisted upon taking me onto the dance floor to see if she could eliminate the rememants of that yucky Irish heritage. I am not sure if she suceeded as I don´t remember too late into the night, but I have the feeling that I was the subject of much amusement for some time. She suggested that I take lessons. Maybe, mayhap.
What a pity I didn´t take my camera, no?
Hasta luego, guys and gals.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
It lies in the ability to make your buttocks look like a fight between two cats in a sack any time you hear something that even suggests the shadow of a rhythm. To move with the hips, not with the arms and feet.
And she´s right. These people really do know how to move their bodies. The term ´Sex on legs´ has never been more appropriately applied. (Her impression of the way the rest of us dance, really didn´t do a lot to endear her to me. Apparently
everyone else looks like a complete tool on the dancefloor. And here I thought it was just me.)
This relevation was expressed around 2am on a Saturday morning, after we had been treated to a ravishing display of tango dancing. Did you know there are two major schools of tango dancing - street and stage? Or how about the fact that each school has around 6 or 7 major variations. If you didn´t, you do now.
The couple we saw went through around 7 costume changes, and clearly had being dancing together for a very long time. The fluidity and precision with which they moved their hips and legs was almost beyond belief. Good thing too, otherwise I don´t think Mr Tango Dancer would have had much chance of fathering children. I thoughtlessly had not brought my camera, however I chanced over the same couple a few days later in the street and a photo of them is just below this entry.
Lydia then insisted upon taking me onto the dance floor to see if she could eliminate the rememants of that yucky Irish heritage. I am not sure if she suceeded as I don´t remember too late into the night, but I have the feeling that I was the subject of much amusement for some time. She suggested that I take lessons. Maybe, mayhap.
What a pity I didn´t take my camera, no?
Hasta luego, guys and gals.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Friday, April 21, 2006
This is the dawning of the Age of...
Aquarius apparently.
Well, that is what a bunch of naked hippies told me when I was about seven. And before you accuse my Ma and Pa of irresponsible parenting, you should know that I was a very mature pre-teen.
This fact always used to annoy me. If the Age of Aquarius began some time in the mid-seventies it means that the preceding couple of centuries was the Age of Pisces. I am a Pisces. I missed out on my own age by what? Only a couple of decades. Now I have to spend the rest of my life feeling like some kind of dirty squatter in the space of those airy fairy Aquarians. Can you understand the injustice of it?
But enough of that. The point is that this is the dawning of the age of disjointed blog entries. And that´s because nothing interesting enough for a whole entry has happened to me in the past week or so. So either you all begin praying that my life gets more bizarre or you get subjected to the inner workings of my mind. Your call.
Over the last week I also my first two games of chess since getting here. I lost both of them. This wouldn´t hurt so much except for the fact that the person I was playing was a 16 year old Swiss boy named Camil. 16? I have 8 more years of life experience than him. That is half of his life. I really need to have some concept of strategy.
My pride has being hurt. Don´t worry though. It will recover.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Well, that is what a bunch of naked hippies told me when I was about seven. And before you accuse my Ma and Pa of irresponsible parenting, you should know that I was a very mature pre-teen.
This fact always used to annoy me. If the Age of Aquarius began some time in the mid-seventies it means that the preceding couple of centuries was the Age of Pisces. I am a Pisces. I missed out on my own age by what? Only a couple of decades. Now I have to spend the rest of my life feeling like some kind of dirty squatter in the space of those airy fairy Aquarians. Can you understand the injustice of it?
But enough of that. The point is that this is the dawning of the age of disjointed blog entries. And that´s because nothing interesting enough for a whole entry has happened to me in the past week or so. So either you all begin praying that my life gets more bizarre or you get subjected to the inner workings of my mind. Your call.
Over the last week I also my first two games of chess since getting here. I lost both of them. This wouldn´t hurt so much except for the fact that the person I was playing was a 16 year old Swiss boy named Camil. 16? I have 8 more years of life experience than him. That is half of his life. I really need to have some concept of strategy.
My pride has being hurt. Don´t worry though. It will recover.
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Bits and pieces.
There is a TV show over here that, as far as I can tell, consists entirely of 15 or so young attractive twenty-somethings (both male and female) standing in a line, wearing something that could best be described as two pieces of dental floss and a hankerchief and, starting to ahem... jiggle.
This happens to frenzied commentary from a panel of three 50 year old males.
It goes for 30 minutes.
It also immediately follows the news.
Hey, anything is better than A Current Affair. Someone get me in touch with Eddie McGuire.
Oh, and roosters here apparently go ¨Kari iki iki iki¨ These crazy Chileans! Clearly they should say...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
This happens to frenzied commentary from a panel of three 50 year old males.
It goes for 30 minutes.
It also immediately follows the news.
Hey, anything is better than A Current Affair. Someone get me in touch with Eddie McGuire.
Oh, and roosters here apparently go ¨Kari iki iki iki¨ These crazy Chileans! Clearly they should say...
Rock and Roll.
Paddy.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
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