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Alphabet Suck  
08:31am 14/06/2008
Having seen the fun that Marissa appears to have had with her alphabet thing, I can't help but give it a try. Here is the alphabet:

A - Argentina
B - Being able to wear big girl panties and deal with life as one who is wearing said panties.
C - Candelabras
D - Denise: how awesome is she, really?
E - Eloquence: why it is important, and practical applications thereof.
F - Franz Ferdinand
G - Goat's milk
I - Igloos
J - Jack Daniels
O - Obama
P - Pure wickedness: why is it so fun to be bad anyway?
Q - Quantum Physics
R - Raisins
S - Seaweeds
V - Vannie's absence from my life
W - When are you coming to visit?
X - Xanadu
Y - Yahweh
Z - (Z)Xylophones

Hopefully you've seen it before. What I need you to do is pick up to 5 letters and give me utterly random topics that start with those letters. When it's all done, I will write about all the topics you've given me. Woohoo.
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The Wonders of Linguistics  
11:05am 05/06/2008
So in a vague effort to distract myself from work I have been researching various matters of linguistics, particularly historical linguistics, which I find fascinating, and I have turned up several interesting things.
(by the way, an * before a word means it's a reconstruction)

1. Naturally a lot of Spanish words are derived from Arabic because of the Moorish occupation of the Iberian Peninsula for almost 1000 years. However, here are some I find particularly fascinating:

- 'dado' (dice) comes from اعداد (a'daad), meaning numbers.
- 'azar' (chance, at random) comes from الزهر (az-zahr), meaning, curiously enough, dice.
- 'fulano', which is a fantastic word meaning 'so-and-so' or 'such-and-such', comes from Arabic فلان (fulaan), which has essentially the same meaning.
- 'luta' (lute) comes from العود (al-'uud), which also means lute, and is of course the root of the English word too.
- the word 'hidalgo' comes from Old Spanish hijo d'algo, which nowadays means 'son of something', but in Old Spanish the word algo referred to money or wealth. The use of 'hijo' to mean 'possessor of' derives from the Arabic usage of their word for 'son' to mean the same thing.
- Muhammad ibn Muusaa al-Khwaariizmii devised the algorithm. The world 'algorithm' comes from the Latinisation of his last name, 'Algorismi', which the French changed to 'algorithme' because they thought it was connected to the Greek 'algorithmus', meaning 'number'. It wasn't.
- The English (and Spanish and almost every other European language) words 'lime' and 'lemon' both come from Old Arabic ليم (laym) and ليمون (laymuun), which was the collective plural. Interestingly, the Arabs subsequently forgot this word, which disappeared from the language, and was then reintroduced, spelled exactly the same way but pronounced 'leemoon', from French. So they basically borrowed the word from themselves.

2. A similar situation to 'leemoon' exists between English and Japanese. The Japanese borrowed the word okesutora, meaning 'orchestra', which then got incorporated into karaoke (meaning 'empty orchestra'), which was then borrowed into English.

3. The Russian word под (pod), the English prefix hypo-, the French sous, the Irish faoi, and the Welsh tan (all meaning 'under') all derive from the same Indo-European root!

- First the easy bit. The Ancient Greek word hupo (English has a tendency of turning Greek 'u' into 'y', hence puro-, 'fire') displays a common feature of Greek, turning initial 's' into 'h'. Thus hex- and hept- (6 and 7, think hexagon and heptagon) are cognates with Latin sex and septum. Thus we get Latin sub, related to hupo. The 'b' became 't' (Italian sotto), although I'm not sure how, and French dropped it in pronunciation. So: hypo > hupo > *supo > *subo > sub > *sut > *sus > sous

- Now Russian. In Ancient Greek the word was stressed on the first syllable, húpos. However, in Modern Greek it's hupós (actually, due to pronunciation differences it's now ipó, but that's beside the point). At some point, therefore, the stress shifted, leaving the first syllable weak. Weak syllables delight in being dropped. So we have *pos. From there it's a simple matter of a hardening shift from 's' to 'd' to reach Old Church Slavonic 'pod'.
So: húpos > *hupós > *pos > pod
Incidentally, the word 'pod' is preserved in several Slavic languages exactly without any changes: Croatian, Czech, Polish, Russian, and Slovene all have 'pod'.

- Now the fun part! Back to hupos again. To shift from Ancient Greek to Proto-Celtic we need to make two important and common sound changes. Firstly, drop the -s. Then delete the central -p-. It probably passed through a stage of being -b- first, but then it was dropped. This leaves us with the not-terribly-strong sound *huo. In Proto-Irish, this hw- sound became an f-, and in Proto-Welsh it became gw-. The Proto-Irish *fo survived until the age of Middle Irish, when the inflected form 'faoi' (meaning 'under it') became the standard word for 'under'.
In Welsh this word *gwo became *go, and because it was very similar to two other Middle Welsh words which were also *go (one of them was an emphatic particle), they decided to strengthen it by adding -tan to it. In time *gótan became *godán, and, as we've already learned from Russian, unstressed syllables disappear very easily. So it became the Modern Welsh word 'tan', meaning under. This sometimes appears as the slightly archaic 'o dan', but usually it's just 'tan', even though the 'o' there is the only connection with Italian sotto, French sous, Latin sub, Irish faoi, Greek ipó, English hypo-, and Russian and Polish and Czech pod. Incredible.

Incidentally the Spanish 'bajo' is totally unrelated to any of these words. It comes from Latin 'bassus', according to the Real Academia Española. I have a hunch that Germanic 'under' (which is virtually identical in all Germanic languages) might also be related (the original Proto-Indo-European root is *bhudhno, and I could easily envision some kind of link, ie.:
*bhudhno > *bhundho > *bundho > *vundho > *undho > *undo > under
-- and it might even be related to 'wonder' (another Germanic cognate), but I have no idea whatsoever. I may try to find out.

So there you have it. Algorithm bears only tenuous connections to algorithmus, and pod and faoi both come from the same root, *upo. I hope you found it interesting.
Var är jag? Oxford
Jag är Exams next week...Exams next week...
Jag lyssna på Tinariwen
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A normal Oxford social encounter  
06:09pm 10/05/2008
People say that the world is a small place. If that's true, then I dread to think how tiny Oxford is by itself, because everyone seems to know everyone else. Here's an example case from last night:

It was guest dinner, which is quite an occasion because it's cheap and there's lots of alcohol and people can bring friends. While there, I talked to Chang (Geographer at St. John's) and he introduced me to his guests, Daniel and Yunnan. While talking to Daniel, I established that he was doing Russian and was a close friend of my friend Rob, at New College. Then I got talking to Yunnan, who, as it happened, ALSO knew Rob because she was at New College too. It also transpired that Yunnan and Rob's friend Maggie went to school next to where Dan used to live, and that her best friend at school was Dasiy Ware. Who is in my Arabic class.
But there's more. Daniel also knew Thomas Barrett, someone else I know who does Spanish and Russian. While we were discussing this, Daniel mentioned how he confused Tom Barrett with Tom Parrot, his best friend at school. And that's when Ollie Willmott (another Geographer at St. John's) joined the conversation and remarked that he knew someone by that name. It turned out, naturally, to be the same person, who used to go to Dan's school and then moved considerably south to go to Ollie's school before coming to Oxford.
This kind of thing is fairly standard Oxford fare.
Var är jag? St. John's College
Jag lyssna på Je veux te voir...
tags: oxford
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On the Subject of the Rain  
10:11pm 19/03/2008
So it's thunderstorming right now. I have never seen anything like it. English rain is placid and annoying and light, it can never quite make up its mind whether it's going to develop or peeter out. You can rarely hear it, you can just feel it as it keeps the right balance between being light enough not to annoy and heavy enough to warrant an umbrella. Everyone just plods along annoyed by its inconsequentiality and by the bare-facedness of anyone audacious enough to unfold their umbrella.
Arizona rain is sweet-smelling and makes the flowers bloom, and you definitely notice it, but you don't go out in it. You stay inside and appreciate it - it's only going to last 15 minutes anyway.

Argentinian rain is something else entirely. It's been pounding down for hours now on a scale I never imagined was possible. I fully understand the concept of a monsoon. There is so much rain. You can see it in the air, you can see it ripple when the wind blows, you can see the drops when the lightning appears (which is every 10 seconds, really!). It looks like everything's sweating. There are little waterfalls running down the sides of buildings, paddling pools filling on the tops of the apartments, and all over the city there is the total roar of this pounding, punishing rain. It's unbelievable.
Jag är Aghast!Aghast!
Jag lyssna på Oh Yeah - Roxy Music
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Basta de boberías, muchacha...  
09:32pm 15/03/2008
So I'm sorry I've been a bit silent over the last few days, but I got caught up in everything. So here's what I did!

WEDNESDAY: I had to present a thing in class, basically (warning: TEFL Jargon coming up) an expansion of the core dialogue. That was fun: "A thief stole my DVD player/television/wife!". I got to draw pictures too! After the course I just went home. I was tired from all the exploring I'd done on Tuesday. Whatever, I got the opportunity to sort out some things in my folder, and had entertaining conversations with Tomás and Isabel over dinner. (Chinese food with what I thought was avocado but was actually...something else. I don't remember its name and I couldn't find it in my Spanish dictionary.)

THURSDAY: A big exploration day. María recommended that I should go to the cemetery in Recoleta, so I headed that way after class, but went further north than I'd intended and ended up going along Avenida Figueroa, where there are a lot of parks and other touristy things, so I took the opportunity to take some pictures. Then I went back down to the cemetery and wandered around. Saw Evita's grave. The cemetery wasn't a grass and tombstone affair, but it was more like a minor city, with streets and a square in the centre, and all the graves arranged liked miniature buildings. Dinner was chicken with rice.

FRIDAY: We did some simple grammar exercises, and it turns out I do know what some of these things are, I just learnt them under different names. The crazy thing about English grammar is that so much of it is superfluous and confusing because of the different names given to different things under different systems. Pizza for dinner.

SATURDAY (today): I woke up quite late (doing TEFL all week is tiring, especially in this heat!), but promptly left the house and went south to the Government Square. The Government building is modelled on the US Capitol building and, like all important buildings, has barricades around the whole of its perimeter to prevent protests. Of course, people just hang posters and things from the barricades. Then I went east to Plaza de Mayo and then north along a street with lots of shiny financial buildings into the Recoleta district, where I found a place in Lonely Planet and had lunch there. It was very very nice!
And now for a little digression about the food. Porteño food combines four key aspects: (1) French immigration = excellent pastry and desserts, (2) Italian immigration = excellent pasta and ice creams, (3) Pampas cows = excellent beef, seriously, the best I've ever had, and (4) native spices and herbs and things (ooh, maté). These, put together, make an INCREDIBLE cuisine. I had gnocchi with Parmesan and tomato sauce with chopped beef in it, plus bread, two bottles of sparkling water, and two scoops of rich chocolate ice cream FOR NINE POUNDS. And on the topic of price, near the school is a little place that sells empanadas (basically tacos made with pastry and filled with beef or tuna or whatever) and I can get two of them for $A4.50. THAT'S SEVENTY PENCE! £1.40! FOR AN ENTIRE MEAL!
Anyway, then I went still further North to Plaza San Martín (the liberator of Chile, Perú, and Argentina, I think) and took many pictures of the Falklands Monument. Seriously, what was that war about? Little islands that no-one wants to live on. Obviously it makes so much more sense for them to be English than Argentine, being right next to Argentina. Sigh. Then back to the house via a bookshop where I actually found La Fiesta del Chivo (break reading...better get started on that).

Semi dull information about the TEFL course, which you may skip if you wish.Collapse )

The book I managed to find, La Fiesta del Chivo, is our holiday reading. It's about 500 pages, and it jumps about quite a bit in time, but essentially it's about dictatorship in the Dominican Republic, and it's extremely well written. I remember a passage from the first few pages because it's one I had to talk about for my interview, where Urania is talking to herself.
I've translated it for your benefit.Collapse )
Var är jag? Buenos Aires
Jag är ImprovingImproving
Jag lyssna på I've got love for you if you were born in the 80s!
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Report from BA: Days 1 & 2  
11:00pm 11/03/2008
Oh my goodness, I like this city so much more than I did when I first arrived here. Given that my first experience was a hellish taxi ride through the bad parts of the city from Ezeiza Airport, it's astounding how much my views have changed.
So yesterday: I started at the TEFL School. More on that later. Then I went wandering, and got lost. Here's how it happened. Essentially I confused the TEFL School with the headquarters of GIC Argentina, the company that set me up with the TEFL School. GIC is on Av. Rivadavia, which is south of where I'm staying on Corrientes. TEFL is north, on Av. Gral. de las Heras. All three (GIC, TEFL, and the apartment) are on the same road (Ayacucho) which cross Rivadavia, las Heras, and Corrientes. When I went to the TEFL School (North) I thought I was going to GIC Arg. (South). So when I went further North-East after the course finished yesterday, I thought I was going South East into the centre. So basically I got spectacularly lost, but I managed to find my way back and I saw a significant part of the North of Buenos Aires (Recoleta is the name of that suburb). There are lots of streets named after countries, like Avenida República Árabe Siria, which was a nice surprise. Also Avs. Costa Rica, Ecuador, Honduras, etc. Yesterday I had dinner in the apartment and met Isabel's son Tomás, who studies at the Lycée.
Today I was better oriented, so after the TEFL Course I went the correct direction into the centre and found Av. 9 de Julio, the largest avenue in the world (14 lanes). Then I went South to the Obelisco (a massive obelisk located on the site of the place where the Argentina flag was first flown) and took several pictures, then walked back along Corrientes to the apartment. It's very useful being on Corrientes, because it's essentially BA's Broadway: lots of theatres, restaurants, playhouses, and bookshops. Oh, and as an aside, NEVER try to find something in a Spanish-language bookshop, because it's just impossible. The books are actually not organised at all. Really.
Tonight I had gnocchi and chicken with Isabel, Tomás, and a gentleman called Patricio (who I think is Isabel's brother). It was amazing - we spoke mostly in Spanish and I understood almost everything that was said, plus we had a lot of fun discussing politics and Patricio kept trying to steal Isabel's wine. He comes here every Tuesday for gnocchi, so they must be family, and I look forward to next Tuesday. We got on really well.

Tomorrow will be fun.
Var är jag? Buenos Aires
Jag är Squee!Squee!
Jag lyssna på Billie Jean is not my lover!
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"Mira. Mira ashi. Dehde la ventana. Ve lah luceh? La Plata e' un mon'truo!"  
11:35pm 09/03/2008
This has, without doubt, been one of the most bizarre days of my life. I'm quite tired so I'll only give a brief summary (and knowing me that's all you'll ever get) but it says something that I'm willing to stay up and type this.

I got up at 3:00 in the morning in Cheltenham, which was two hours after I'd gone to bed, rather foolishly. But then again, if you have to get up at 3:00 and you're going to spend the next day doing not much else but sitting on a plane where you can drift off, going to bed doesn't take much priority, especially when you could spend time online gossiping about the end-of-term dance. Then we drove from Cheltenham to Heathrow, about 2 hours, and got into Heathrow in time to do all the boring stuff, plus buy tissues and an adapter (currency number one: pounds). Then it was onto the plane.
I slept through the entire flight. No joke. Two whole hours. I fell asleep in my seat before we took off and I woke up as we were landing. But at least I felt slightly alive. Then it transpired that our flight was late and therefore lots of people were going to get rather angry if they couldn't get their connections. Bear in mind this flight left London at 7:00, and no-one is going to fly to Madrid at 7:00 just to go to Madrid. Everyone on that plane was going to Brazil, Perú, or B.A.
So I had the fun of running around Barajas Airport trying to find Gate U73 (I kid you not), and found it only to see that there was a massive queue and I was in no danger whatsoever of missing my flight. So I bought a bottle of water (currency number two: euros).
Then the flight to Buenos Aires. That was odd. 12 hours sitting next to a man from San Tucumán de Jujuy (which sounds like quite an interesting place) who was about 107 and clearly didn't realise that I didn't understand the Argentinian accent. The flight staff (whom he referred to as "chicas" even though they were all at least 40) didn't really know what he was saying either, but towards the end of the flight I managed to more or less get everything. We covered a wide range of subjects, most of them very briefly, until I lost my wallet.
Yes, I know, how do you lose your wallet on a plane? Well, I managed it. I think it fell on the floor. Someone found it and handed it to the staff, who promptly put an announcement in and returned it to me. The man subsequently claimed to have prayed to Jesus to return the wallet to me and "Mira, cinco mnutoh dehpuéh, si diceh Oh Señor..." there it was. So that was odd. I also re-watched Juno in Spanish, which must have lost things. I mean, how can you possible convey "That ain't no Etch-a-Sketch. This is one doodle that can't be undid, home skillet" in a foreign language, especially to a culture that has no knowledge of the concept of an Etch-a-Sketch?
And the flight was extremely bumpy and eurgh. And the climate here is horrendously humid and everyone asks for tips (I've spent 100 pesos on tips because I had no change [currency number three: Argentine pesos]) and you would not believe the driving. It's actually like Grand Theft Auto. Actually. Really. I'm not joking. If I ever get into an Argentine cab again it will be far too soon for me.

But the house. Oh, the house. It's incredible. The building has one of those fantastic two-doored incredibly old lifts in it, and the flat is more like a penthouse from the colonial 1750s (which is probably precisely what is it). But I have a lot of time to talk about that, and not so much time to go to bed.

So, total time in Sunday, 9th March: 24 hours. Total time I spent in Sunday, 9th March: 28 hours, 30 minutes.

Jag är Elated!Elated!
Jag lyssna på Taxis and bells outside my 5th floor window
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Busy Busy Week  
11:02pm 07/02/2008
This has been, and will still be, an incredibly action-packed week. For the first time since I arrived in Oxford, I have a social event to occupy me every night. Here's a brief rundown:

MONDAY: I had nothing planned, and actually spent quite a while doing a translation, but then Charis wandered into my room with the token "I was going to work all evening but instead I went to the DoC [Duke of Cambridge] and got drunk" look, before inviting loads of PPEists up to my room. So we had tea and then went out to get kebabs from Hussein's [the vans across the road].

TUESDAY: Shrove Tuesday and Arabist dinner. Tasty pancakes at Conbibos and the first time I really met the other Arabic class in a social situation, quite astounding when you consider that I will be spending all next year with them in Syria. They're all really nice. We went to a restaurant called Kasbar that serves tasty Middle Eastern food, then we went back to Jess's room in Wadham and had shisha. The brilliant thing is that shisha is related to our course.

WEDNESDAY: Chinese New Year party! Tasty food at excellent prices at Paddyfields. Major celebrations and new friends, namely a second-year geographer called Adam Bailey who hates England just as much as I do.

THURSDAY: Linguist Drinks. We had this last term too. They happen in St. Giles House, which is rather posh and just next to John's. Much revelry and drunkness, only this time none of the tutors turned up. I ganked two bottles of (gasp) SPARKLING WATER! Jack took the wine.

FRIDAY: Tomorrow is another film night. I'm happy about that because it's an excellent film, Peter Greenaway's The Cook The Thief His Wife and Her Lover. Plus I'm having lunch with Charis at Loch Fyne (Amazing! fish restaurant).

I did lose my wallet though. That was a low point. Damn it.

Var är jag? St. John's
Jag är Chipper!Chipper!
Jag lyssna på 40ft (Franz Ferdinand)
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The Oxford Saga: Part One  
04:25am 02/01/2008
Oh, the occupational hazards of being a University Student, even outside term-time. Namely, it's 4:00am and I'm still up even though I have to get up in four and half hours to go to work at 9:00. Luckily, it's only across the road, but even so, come on, Duncan!
I think before I go into any detail about how Oxford is I'll have to explain the British university system, particularly as it relates to Oxford and The Other Place (click the link if you don't know what I'm talking about there).

The British University system is, to my mind, vastly superior to the American one, at least for someone like me. The school system generally forces you to specialise a lot earlier than in the US, which means that in University you only study your subject. There's no such thing as a major or a minor, such your degree, because you aren't doing any other subjects. In Oxford, which is full of abstruse and brilliant terminology, we refer to 'reading' something as a way of saying it's the subject you're taking your degree in: "I'm reading Chemistry". The system is the same throughout the country though. So my subject is Spanish and Arabic, or in a more general way, EMEL (European and Middle Eastern Languages).
Now to the organisation of Oxford - there is no single university building or campus, but a series of colleges. You apply to a particular college, not Oxford University, and you owe a great deal more loyalty to the college than to Oxford University itself during term-time, and often colleges have rivalries between them as virulent as the general one between Oxford and Cambridge. You live in college, eat in college, and a majority of students have their tutorials in college too. I don't - I go to a few of the numerous shared buildings, along with everyone else doing either Spanish or Arabic, for my lectures, and to St. Catherine's college for Spanish tutorials.

There's great variation in the colleges - some are large, some small, some are quite poor, and some are extremely wealthy. St. John's is the wealthiest by far, with an endowment of over £300 million pounds, and consequently it's in an excellent position to dole out money to us starving students. It also owns a massive amount of land all over the country, and overseas as well. The whole of Oxfordshire is owned by some or other of the colleges. St. John's also consistently comes near the top of the Norrington Table (the academic rankings) and has been top for several years, until last year when Merton beat it out. That's why we dislike Merton. We also dislike Magdalen and Christchurch because they're extremely posh and full of people who swan off to Dubai for the weekend on "Daddy's credit card". Grrr. We also hate Keble, which is next to John's, because we used to own their land, and still do, technically, but there's no academic rivalry with it - there'd be no point. There's even a Society For the Destruction of Keble, which advocates stealing the bricks from Keble's buildings. This has become quite a problem, it would seem.

The University's shared buildings lie outside the grounds of any of the colleges and are generally specific to a particular degree. The Taylor Institute is the massive language library with a basement full of rolling mechanical bookshelves, an upper reading room with ancient books in Old Spanish, and an entire room full of the works of Voltaire. The Oriential Institute is the centre for Arabic, Hebrew, Farsi Persian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, and Armenian. Both are happily within about a minute and a half of St. John's - one of the other reasons it's so brilliant.

St. John's has the best attributive adjective out of the whole lot. We are Iohannonites.

In the next installment: the academic structure of Oxford - my tutors - just what are collections? - some geographic specifics of St. Johns - the Oxford Union.
Var är jag? Cheltenham
Jag är I am actually asleep...I am actually asleep...
Jag lyssna på Destination Calabria
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Voting, Loot List, and fun fun FUN!  
12:54am 27/12/2007
Right, I'm very very sorry that you haven't heard from me for...ahem...ages. I'm horrendous and dishonourable, and I should be beaten. The fact is, though, that putting things on LJ isn't terribly productive because I can't be expected to record everything that goes on, and the people I talk to are here in Oxford anyway, and because I have so much going on! Work, and all. You know how it is.
Except you don't, because you go to American Universities.
Now that it's the holidays (well, it has been for a while, and that's all relative - I still have work), I may feel up to divulging details of Oxford in segmented chapters of glee. However, only if you'd like to. Please leave a comment expressing how you think this plan could be implemented to maximum effect!

Christmas was...hmm. A very low-key affair, yet again, but I like that. Just me and Mum and Grandma, but who else? Ploy came over on Christmas Eve, but was busy, so yeh. (Ploy was a 2nd-year Chemist at John's, but she left because she absolutely hates Chemistry. The problem is, she's very good at it. She's from Thailand, but lives in England and has just moved to Cheltenham.) In the manner of Misses Sasha O---- and Marissa M---- C---- (from whom I draw most of my daily entertainment, let's be honest!), here is a loot list, with important things highlighted in bold.

FROM DAD: a Dalí calendar and a projector.

FROM GRANDMA: A wind-up torch and some hot chocolate, and a giant wall poster satellite picture of Phoenix.

FROM MUM: Another Dalí calendar, The 13 1/2 lives of Captain Bluebear, The QI Book of Animal Ignorance, loads and loads of chocolate, the 7 sins of chocolate hot chocolate set (for example: ANGER - spicy Aztec hot chocolate), the 12 tea of Christmas assortment (along similar lines, except there's no connection between the present on the day and the tea), and a load of other things. Oh yeah, and A FOUR-WEEK TRIP TO BUENOS AIRES IN MARCH/APRIL!
Var är jag? Cheltenham
Jag är Gleeful travellerGleeful traveller
Jag lyssna på Berri Txarrak- Bueltatzen
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