My search through the archives continues, although we wont be visiting our chubby little friend's (me) diary today ( Tomorrow though, I think, it is fast on its way to becoming the most successful post ever, with 54 views since Sunday, so I have to put more up soon)but at something a little different. Again we go back to 1999.
In my final two years of primary school, 1997 and 1998, our headmaster started to do foreign exchanges with schools in Europe. Our school would be twinned with another school and their teachers would visit us, as well as our teacher getting a free Holiday out there. The idea was to learn about each others culture and all that sort of stuff.
I don't remember much of it, we once did a project on the book Danny the Champion of the world (a book saying its OK to poach animals I think, I not sure why we presented this to some french people(also don't call Daniel Murphy, Danny the Champion of the world, he hates it)))some stuff about the famine (6,000,000 Killed I remember writing. I couldn't spell died. They weren't really killed were they?)We also wrote some things about Ireland for them. I wrote about Father Ted. I don't remember learning anything about Europe, only that the french ate bread with a knife and fork.
In sixth class, when some Italian teachers visited, we put on a concert for them, and, minutes before we were to take to the stage, our teacher asked myself and Francis "Not to sing this time" This time!!! It was THE time! The only time!
Anyway we were also told to write a letter to a person in the class and it would be handed out when our teacher visited them and this person would become our "pen pal"
"HEY GRANDDAD WHATS A PEN PAL? IS IT LIKE AN IPOD?" fuck off
Going through some shit today I found two letters from my Italian Pen Pal.
You may need to click and zoom to get a look at these
This is from a ten year old Italian girl. She plays the flute and loves school.
I wrote back to that one, and got this one during the summer
She wants to know why I never write and what I will be doing for new years eve (it's the tenth of June!) I imagine I just sent her lists of what I was eating and how much I played with myself.
She also included this art work.
Now, you're thinking, whats the point of all this? Well I'm thinking about writing back. Now. To-day. In 2012. Wouldn't that fuck with you head if you received a letter form a pen pal from 13 years ago. Imagine that happening to YOU now. It would be mental.
I checked the address on google maps, and it's a real place, it does exists. Although there is a good chance she isn't there anymore. People move on. People change. I mean in 1999 I had no job, no money, no girlfriend, lived with my parents, couldn't grow a beard, was overweight and my only friends were Carl and Francis. (hang on a minute!)
Fuck it, I'm doing it. This could be the start of some wacky dave gorman/danny wallce style hi-jinx or it might just end up at a dead letter office. I couldn't be arrested or anything could I? Should I do it? Or is it really weird?
Anyway its too late now, I sent it this morning!! TWIST!