The Obama Dance

Last night was the inauguration, which was very surreal to be watching from a living room in Dublin. I couldn't help but think I should be in Kenmore square or even closer to the action. I talked to someone yesterday who is of the opinion that the inauguration ceremony is of no real importance. The policy issues to come are what will be important. While I agree that the upcoming policies will be the meat of the matter and while I respect the fact that politics, especially political ceremony, is not for everyone, to shove it off as unimportant is in my opinion cynical, inane and even insulting. It was filled with symbolic importance that truly does have an impact, not only on how people perceive and feel, but also on how they act. There are plenty of emotional arguments to give for this case. As a female studying politics, this moment felt personal to me. There's visible progress over the racial divide, and perhaps the gender barrier is next. It's great to feel that American political leadership isn't only for the white male anymore. Look at the tears streaming down the faces of those who have fought all there lives in the name of civil rights, and tell me this moment had very little tangible significance.

But probably of greater interest to those at home is the fact that I can personally attest that inauguration day has had a profound impact, at least for the time being, on how Americans are viewed abroad. While Ireland is known to be a relative safe-haven for Americans, this is the first time in many years that it is acceptable in Ireland to truly embrace the American identity. Even a few years ago many of the BU Dublin program students bought Canadian flag patches to sew onto their bags in order to avoid the constant slagging, even harassment over being American. The election and inauguration have impacted the way I am treated over here in a very concrete manner. I will provide a humorous example as I recount my first night in Galway.

Last Friday night we arrived at Galway and went to Kinlay House, our hostel, which is one of the best hostels in Dublin, or so I was told. I recommend it to anyone going to Galway - it was clean and had a very nicely kept common kitchen. Still, I sort of felt like I was living in a hippie commune. The employee of the month sign depicted a man with dreads playing a guitar.

We then went to the King's Head Pub to meet up with Jamie, my friend from home. The poor thing is pretty sick, so she couldn't go out with us when we decided to leave. The King's Head is a nice pub and all, but super touristy. It was overrun with Americans and had a mediocre cover band playing a poor choice of American songs. Then we went to check out a club called CPs that our history teacher had recommended. I have to say, this was the one poor recommendation that Caroline has ever given us. CPs played an awful assortment of European techno and American 80s music, accompanied by weird lighting and a fog machine on full blast. We stayed most of the night there and had fun as a group, but otherwise it would have been kind of lame. After Amanda claimed to have broken her toe (she was ok though, she hiked the Burren the next day), we decided to call it a night.

The best part of the night was walking back to the hostel, when we decided to get kabobs from a kabob shop. Unless you specifically get the kind on a stick, it's served as a shaved meat sandwich. In the kabob shop we came face to face with the drunkest man I have ever seen. He was eating a kabob at one of the tables, and when he overheard us talking he shouted, "You're American!" We all nodded, when he decided to get up from his table (I don't really know how he managed to stand) and start a song and dance routine, which was something of an Irish jig combined with jazz hands. The song went "Barack...Barack...Barack Obama....He's gonna change the world!" Next came the refrain "Bush....BAADDDDDDDDD!!!!" And repeat.
It was definitely up there in the strangest, most hilarious experiences of my life. And it's a bit heartwarming to think of how we're appreciated for our votes this past election, even if that appreciation sometimes takes the form of a sloppy, intoxicated song-and-dance number.

More on Galway when I get back from class.