Last night we had our group trip to see Playboy of the Western World at the Abbey Theater in downtown Dublin, so our classes were canceled. The Abbey is particularly famous, but exactly why I do not know. I know many famous actors and playwrights pass through its doors, but in all honesty it's quite an ugly building. In my opinion, the Abbey lacks the charm of the ornate Gate Theater.
The show was a modern version of the original Playboy by Synge. Despite it being a classic, I admit that this updated version was exponentially more enjoyable. A few of us watched an original version on video a couple of days before the live performance, and it was very tedious. This twist added a few different elements, with modern race, immigration policy, drug, and violence issues pertinent to today's Ireland. The costumes perfectly captured the street wear I've been seeing, track suits for the gangsters and all. Only in Ireland would gangsters love the track suit so much.
I'm still not sure why we went to see this play and why we missed class to do so, but it wasn't a bad outing overall, and I won't complain about missing class.
Tomorrow is the start of Ceili dancing lessons, which will give me a good hobby to pass the time. I'm settling in to a routine and find myself with more time on my hands. Tonight I made enchiladas for eight people, and I'm proud to say they came out fantastic!
Friday we leave for Northern Ireland. Although the conflicts are pretty controlled at this time, I'm still a little nervous, but more than anything I'm excited. More on that trip to come.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Package
Thank you so much Aunt Cindy, Ralph, Meeka, and Opal for the birthday package!! I just received it in the mail today. I am so excited about the peanut butter! Hopefully we can set up a time to skype later this week and I can thank you via webcam.
A Few Quick Notes
Yesterday I had my interview with the European Institute of Women's Health. I think it went really well. My future boss Peggie is very nice, but she travels a lot. This NGO has great connections with the World Health Organization, the EU, etc., and I'll get the chance to do some significant independent research. My work hours are actually shorter than the average (only 10am-4pm) and I might be working at home on occasion. She stays in touch with a lot of the BU students she's had in the past and some of them are even coming back to do more research or work full time!
The only downside is that I'll be doing all independent projects. Sometimes I will be the only one in the office. I hope it doesn't get too lonely! I'll have to find other ways of meeting people than work.
Not to change subjects completely, but I've been doing a lot of reflecting. The more I see and do here and the more people I meet, the more I realize how I am a product of an American upbringing. More specifically, I am really the product of a New England upbringing. I'm often frustrated by the lack of efficiency around here. I feel like I'm on a forced vacation at times. When on earth do people get things done around here?? Places are never open the hours they say they will be, and everything is shut down by 5pm (except the pubs of course). I can only check out a few library books at a time. The library isn't even open on Sundays. The mail room is perpetually closing at odd hours. Customer service here is terrible, and even the Irish grumble about it. While in America we go overboard and say the customer is always right, here the customer is nearly always wrong, and the worker will give you a piece of his or her mind! I've had more than my fair share of confrontations in that area, which I've tried my best to just put aside and not make a scene. It's weird...in these situations in the U.S. I would get the manager, but here that is just not the accepted practice.
While some people may think that the slower pace of life is so much better than how we do things in America, I feel like there has to be a happy medium. It will be great for me to try and step out of the competitive, fast-paced American mentality for a bit, but I've also gained a greater appreciation for the efficiency and conveniences of American life. There are definitely pros and cons for both lifestyles. I'm learning to love Ireland, but I'm also learning how much I really do love the U.S., specifically Boston.
The only downside is that I'll be doing all independent projects. Sometimes I will be the only one in the office. I hope it doesn't get too lonely! I'll have to find other ways of meeting people than work.
Not to change subjects completely, but I've been doing a lot of reflecting. The more I see and do here and the more people I meet, the more I realize how I am a product of an American upbringing. More specifically, I am really the product of a New England upbringing. I'm often frustrated by the lack of efficiency around here. I feel like I'm on a forced vacation at times. When on earth do people get things done around here?? Places are never open the hours they say they will be, and everything is shut down by 5pm (except the pubs of course). I can only check out a few library books at a time. The library isn't even open on Sundays. The mail room is perpetually closing at odd hours. Customer service here is terrible, and even the Irish grumble about it. While in America we go overboard and say the customer is always right, here the customer is nearly always wrong, and the worker will give you a piece of his or her mind! I've had more than my fair share of confrontations in that area, which I've tried my best to just put aside and not make a scene. It's weird...in these situations in the U.S. I would get the manager, but here that is just not the accepted practice.
While some people may think that the slower pace of life is so much better than how we do things in America, I feel like there has to be a happy medium. It will be great for me to try and step out of the competitive, fast-paced American mentality for a bit, but I've also gained a greater appreciation for the efficiency and conveniences of American life. There are definitely pros and cons for both lifestyles. I'm learning to love Ireland, but I'm also learning how much I really do love the U.S., specifically Boston.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Oscar Wilde and the Bog Men
We didn't have class on Friday, so Jackie, Amanda, and I took a walk into Dublin. The weather is chilly but beautiful this weekend! Finally a few days without rain!
Our first stop was Marrion Square to go to the Oscar Wilde House. For those of you who understand my love of Oscar Wilde, I'm sure you can imagine how excited I was. I was so incredibly pumped up for this. Imagine my horror when we got to his house (the place he was born and raised) only to find a sign that said "We're sorry, but we are no longer providing tours of the Oscar Wilde House. It is now privately owned by the American Irish University."Yes, Oscar Wilde's house has been taken over by a college for office space and we couldn't get inside. To make matters even more bitter, Boston University just so happens to be affiliated with the American Irish University through its masters program in Dublin. I really don't understand how one of Ireland's most famous writers doesn't even have his own house or museum tour. At least I got a picture with his famous statue on the Marrion Square corner of St. Stephen's Green.
We then made our way to the National Museum, specifically the Archaeology and History section. It's small by national museum standards, but I was still impressed by many of the artifacts on display. The most disturbing part of the exhibits, though, was the Bog Men. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Bog Men, they are the bodies found in peat bogs throughout Ireland. I think they date back somewhere around 1500-2000BC (I have to check on that), but they still have large portions of their skin and hair because of the way the peat environment preserves them. Their bones mostly decompose, but their skin becomes like leather. Their hair turns red because of the minerals in the ground, which again made this experience extremely humanizing and odd for me. I found most of the bodies fascinating but simultaneously disturbing, until we got to a specific one that I just found all around terrifying. This one is well known for having its hands perfectly in tact, fingernails and all. I came around the corner to find two human hands and a torso sitting in a glass case. Usually I'm not squeamish at all, but I got very sick to my stomach and extremely light headed. If you are planning a trip to Ireland and want to see the Bog Men, which in the end I am glad I saw, just prepare yourself mentally. It's nothing like looking at regular mummies.
While we were looking at the Tara Brooch we spotted a security guard and asked him for the whereabouts of the flag from the 1916 uprising. Apparently it's in a sepearate building. He recognized our accents instantly and proceeded to talk politics with us for nearly a half hour. Namely he expressed his fear about lack of gun control in the U.S. The police force in Ireland, the guarda, don't carry any kind of weapon. I've heard this comment from several Irish people now. He said he would never want to go to the U.S. for fear of getting shot by a cop, which we explained wasn't a typical day in the states. He was a nice old man, but it just goes to show that there truly is ignorance on all sides of the ocean. We have our stereotypes and oversimplifications of the Irish, and they have plenty of those for Americans as well. He kept talking until he looked down at his watch and suddenly said "You better run, they're closing the gates!"
So we ran through the National Museum until we were stopped by another old fellow who shouted "What are you still doing in here?!" We explained we were talking to a guard, at which he laughed, "Guard? Where do you think we are, England, Buckingham Palace?!" Apparently they don't use the term guard here. We ran to the gate where another little old man was about to lock us in! They really don't make any announcements or do any checks before they shut the place down.
That was my day. We went out again at night to Porterhouse, Church, and then Coppers. Porterhouse is fabulous, Church is terrible Eurotrash techno music (we left quickly), and Coppers (Copper-faced Jack's) has to be one of the best places in Dublin. I caught the cabbie driving us in circles on the way to Coppers, and I called him out on it when we stopped. He tried to put up a fight, but he clearly knew he was caught, so he lowered the price pretty quickly. I feel like I already have some idea of where I'm going in this city.
Today I'm doing homework, going to the library, and maybe going out for Tapas with Fenna and Rachel later in the evening.
Our first stop was Marrion Square to go to the Oscar Wilde House. For those of you who understand my love of Oscar Wilde, I'm sure you can imagine how excited I was. I was so incredibly pumped up for this. Imagine my horror when we got to his house (the place he was born and raised) only to find a sign that said "We're sorry, but we are no longer providing tours of the Oscar Wilde House. It is now privately owned by the American Irish University."Yes, Oscar Wilde's house has been taken over by a college for office space and we couldn't get inside. To make matters even more bitter, Boston University just so happens to be affiliated with the American Irish University through its masters program in Dublin. I really don't understand how one of Ireland's most famous writers doesn't even have his own house or museum tour. At least I got a picture with his famous statue on the Marrion Square corner of St. Stephen's Green.
We then made our way to the National Museum, specifically the Archaeology and History section. It's small by national museum standards, but I was still impressed by many of the artifacts on display. The most disturbing part of the exhibits, though, was the Bog Men. For those of you who aren't familiar with the Bog Men, they are the bodies found in peat bogs throughout Ireland. I think they date back somewhere around 1500-2000BC (I have to check on that), but they still have large portions of their skin and hair because of the way the peat environment preserves them. Their bones mostly decompose, but their skin becomes like leather. Their hair turns red because of the minerals in the ground, which again made this experience extremely humanizing and odd for me. I found most of the bodies fascinating but simultaneously disturbing, until we got to a specific one that I just found all around terrifying. This one is well known for having its hands perfectly in tact, fingernails and all. I came around the corner to find two human hands and a torso sitting in a glass case. Usually I'm not squeamish at all, but I got very sick to my stomach and extremely light headed. If you are planning a trip to Ireland and want to see the Bog Men, which in the end I am glad I saw, just prepare yourself mentally. It's nothing like looking at regular mummies.
While we were looking at the Tara Brooch we spotted a security guard and asked him for the whereabouts of the flag from the 1916 uprising. Apparently it's in a sepearate building. He recognized our accents instantly and proceeded to talk politics with us for nearly a half hour. Namely he expressed his fear about lack of gun control in the U.S. The police force in Ireland, the guarda, don't carry any kind of weapon. I've heard this comment from several Irish people now. He said he would never want to go to the U.S. for fear of getting shot by a cop, which we explained wasn't a typical day in the states. He was a nice old man, but it just goes to show that there truly is ignorance on all sides of the ocean. We have our stereotypes and oversimplifications of the Irish, and they have plenty of those for Americans as well. He kept talking until he looked down at his watch and suddenly said "You better run, they're closing the gates!"
So we ran through the National Museum until we were stopped by another old fellow who shouted "What are you still doing in here?!" We explained we were talking to a guard, at which he laughed, "Guard? Where do you think we are, England, Buckingham Palace?!" Apparently they don't use the term guard here. We ran to the gate where another little old man was about to lock us in! They really don't make any announcements or do any checks before they shut the place down.
That was my day. We went out again at night to Porterhouse, Church, and then Coppers. Porterhouse is fabulous, Church is terrible Eurotrash techno music (we left quickly), and Coppers (Copper-faced Jack's) has to be one of the best places in Dublin. I caught the cabbie driving us in circles on the way to Coppers, and I called him out on it when we stopped. He tried to put up a fight, but he clearly knew he was caught, so he lowered the price pretty quickly. I feel like I already have some idea of where I'm going in this city.
Today I'm doing homework, going to the library, and maybe going out for Tapas with Fenna and Rachel later in the evening.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Walking Tour
Today was our group walking tour around Dublin. It basically traced all the major historical sites of the 1916 Easter Rising. The tour guide was offbeat and humorous, but truth be told I found myself a little distracted. A few of my fingers went numb and turned whiter than white despite wearing gloves. For a moment there everyone thought I might loose a few fingers from frostbite. We also went by my likely future place of employment on Pearse St, namely the European Institute for Women's Health, so now I won't have to go do a test run before my interview on Monday :) I also caught two men trying to steal Ingrina's purse in the General Post Office, so I acted like a dumb tourist and bumped into her a bit so they failed and left. Italy has made me paranoid with my purse, which has proved helpful. We then went to a pub with Caroline called The Celt. Cool place, I think we might go back some time. Marie made friends with the locals, who gave her a Sinn Fein newspaper (the IRA affiliated political party). Funny thing is her internship is actually working for the opposition party, Fianna Fail, but of course she didn't tell them that!
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
The Curse of the Swans
Ok, so here is my final installment about Galway, then I'll be all caught up and can make a few quick comments about this week and plans for tomorrow/this weekend.
On Sunday we all strolled around the town to see the important sights, which included the hooker boats in the bay, the Spanish arch, and the main church. Galway is relatively small for a "major" city, so we did these activities in a short span of time. Jamie once again couldn't join us because she was so sick, which was sad, but at least I should see her soon in Dublin! She had told us that before we bought Claddagh rings (Galway is the Kingdom of Claddagh), we had to feed the swans, which are super nice unlike normal swans and supposedly are the dead ancestors of people in the village come back to life.
We were walking along the bay and all of a sudden we see these two swans being carried backwards by the currents in the waterway. We all started laughing, until they decided to swim right up next to us! Jackie apologized, explaining to them that we didn't have any food for them. One swan then turned its head and quacked at us! (Do swans quack or honk?) Then they swam away. So now we're pretty sure we've been cursed by the swans. We were so upset about this curse that when we bought our claddaghs we totally forgot to by them for each other (buying one for yourself can curse you). Now I'm Irish cursed twice over, so I asked Frank, my sociology teacher, how to get rid of curses. Apparently the only way is to go to Catholic mass and pray.
Looking back on this trip, the people you travel with makes a huge difference. I can honestly say that overall I had a great time with the people I went with, although all of them, with the exception of one person, managed to get on my nerves at one point or another. I would also say that while Galway is great for a visit, Dublin is a more suitable place for me to be living. I like the big city vibe better!
That concludes Galway. This week has been very low-key. I've been trying to not get sick. The weather here is so damp everyone is getting ill. Tomorrow the program is taking a trip in to Dublin in place of our usual history class so that Caroline and a historian friend of hers can give us a thorough tour of Dublin's sites.
On Sunday we all strolled around the town to see the important sights, which included the hooker boats in the bay, the Spanish arch, and the main church. Galway is relatively small for a "major" city, so we did these activities in a short span of time. Jamie once again couldn't join us because she was so sick, which was sad, but at least I should see her soon in Dublin! She had told us that before we bought Claddagh rings (Galway is the Kingdom of Claddagh), we had to feed the swans, which are super nice unlike normal swans and supposedly are the dead ancestors of people in the village come back to life.
We were walking along the bay and all of a sudden we see these two swans being carried backwards by the currents in the waterway. We all started laughing, until they decided to swim right up next to us! Jackie apologized, explaining to them that we didn't have any food for them. One swan then turned its head and quacked at us! (Do swans quack or honk?) Then they swam away. So now we're pretty sure we've been cursed by the swans. We were so upset about this curse that when we bought our claddaghs we totally forgot to by them for each other (buying one for yourself can curse you). Now I'm Irish cursed twice over, so I asked Frank, my sociology teacher, how to get rid of curses. Apparently the only way is to go to Catholic mass and pray.
Looking back on this trip, the people you travel with makes a huge difference. I can honestly say that overall I had a great time with the people I went with, although all of them, with the exception of one person, managed to get on my nerves at one point or another. I would also say that while Galway is great for a visit, Dublin is a more suitable place for me to be living. I like the big city vibe better!
That concludes Galway. This week has been very low-key. I've been trying to not get sick. The weather here is so damp everyone is getting ill. Tomorrow the program is taking a trip in to Dublin in place of our usual history class so that Caroline and a historian friend of hers can give us a thorough tour of Dublin's sites.
Let's get off this cliff...just not in THAT direction!
On Saturday we woke up early to go on a walking and bus tour of the Burren and the Cliffs of Moher. I should probably clarify that the "we" I am referring to is Amanda, Jackie, Katie, Casey, and myself, all the people from the group who wanted to make a trip to Galway asap. Jamie was supposed to join us, but she was so sick she could barely speak on the phone. We made a new friend on the bus, so while we couldn't replace Jamie in spirit we did do so in number. Chris is from North Carolina and is attending BU law school next year (weird coincidence, right?). He's backpacking throughout Europe by himself and happened to be staying at our hostel, so we adopted him for the day.
This was my first real look at the countryside of Ireland, so I was beyond excited! Our first stop was the Burren, a strange, rocky landscape. It's difficult to describe and not quite like anything I've ever seen. You pass a sign that says "welcome to the Burren" and suddenly the mountain tops are covered in limestone rock. Some people say it looks like "a trippy lunar landscape," but I think they must be tripping on something, because it didn't remind me of the moon at all. Nonetheless, it was incredibly impressive.
Above is a fairy tree. You tie cloth to it, and when the cloth falls off the fairies grant your wish.
We hopped off the bus to do the walking section of the tour. Once again, a "gentle" or "light" walk meant hiking up a mountain. John, the tour guide, was the most antisocial Irishman I have yet to meet. Despite being well-groomed, he's like the wild man of Ireland. First he showed us his cows, and the smell reminded me of home. Then we hiked up what was essentially his backyard. I asked him if he's ever still in awe of living in such a beautiful place to which he responded, "I don't like it on days like today. I like it when it's sunny." Granted, the winds were blowing at about 70mph and the sky was gray. I think the weather actually added something to its beauty, but maybe that's just me.
By the end of the hike we were all exhausted and frozen. The winds were so strong we couldn't walk a straight line. John became suddenly sociable, offering us tea and apple tart that his mother had made that morning, saying we could sit around the fire and warm up while we ate. He must have mentioned this five times, so we were all excessively hungry and excited to get warm by the time we reached the bottom.
Then John led us into a room, got behind a counter, cut up the pie, and promptly charged us 4 euro for his hospitality. We then spent the next half hour making awkward small talk with him in his living room while we waited for the bus to pick us up for the next part of the tour. I think his odd character added to the whole experience. I can't remember the last time I had as much fun as that hike!
Above is our super friendly tour guide John.
The bus took us across a whole bunch of sites, generally just pulling to the side for pictures. The area is littered with ring forts (or fairy forts as they're sometimes called), famine cottages, and fairy trees. There's also a sprinkling of castles thrown in for good measure. The next big site was the Cliffs of Moher. For all you Princess Bride fans, this was where the "Cliffs of Insanity" portion of the movie was filmed. By this point in the day the winds were reaching hurricane levels. The bus had begun to shake, and the driver informed us that the euro fee to see the cliffs had so kindly been waived, so that we wouldn't be a liability if we got blown off the edge. I'm serious. We pushed through the wind, rain, hail, and a shower of loose rock (which hit me in the head) to get to the top, and it was breathtaking. For a moment I really did think I might die, but the benefit of seeing a place like this in such bad weather was that we would never get to see the waves look as frightening and simultaneously inspiring on an ordinary day. I'm glad I braved the elements and stayed away from the edge.
The wind started howling to such a pitch that people started shrieking and getting thrown into the rock barrier, so we decided to head back to the bus and the sun came out. About 300m from the edge, we realized it was raining again. It wasn't normal rain, though. Upon closer inspection, we realized it was raining seafoam. The sky raining seafoam has got to be the oddest thing I have ever seen in my life (even in comparison to Obama dance man).
Bracing ourselves against the wind.
We got back in to Galway around 5:30pm, soaked to the bone and starving. We made a meal at the hostel and then went to Taaffes, which was the best Irish pub I have yet to go to and by far the most traditional. It was full to bursting, and a bunch of old Irish men played traditional music in the back. An old man did some traditional dancing with Jackie. It was a mix of ages throughout the place, but no one had an accent that wasn't Irish. At one point people even began singing along to an IRA tune. Amanda's friend from Ireland, Fergal, then joined us as well. Fergal is insanely tall, something like 7 feet, so he was quite the character to have around for the evening. It was like having our own Big Friendly Giant, and it was easy to find the group if anyone got lost in a pub or bar. Our second stop of the night was a bar that was unremarkable, then The Living Room, which was a great way to end the night with dancing. I highly recommend it!
Fergal didn't have a place to stay, so Amanda tried to sneak him in to our hostel, which as expected was a complete failure because you can't exactly sneak a giant into anywhere. We said goodbye to Chris who should be in Spain by now. Thus ended one of the most surreal, strange, and awesome days imaginable.
This was my first real look at the countryside of Ireland, so I was beyond excited! Our first stop was the Burren, a strange, rocky landscape. It's difficult to describe and not quite like anything I've ever seen. You pass a sign that says "welcome to the Burren" and suddenly the mountain tops are covered in limestone rock. Some people say it looks like "a trippy lunar landscape," but I think they must be tripping on something, because it didn't remind me of the moon at all. Nonetheless, it was incredibly impressive.
Above is a fairy tree. You tie cloth to it, and when the cloth falls off the fairies grant your wish.We hopped off the bus to do the walking section of the tour. Once again, a "gentle" or "light" walk meant hiking up a mountain. John, the tour guide, was the most antisocial Irishman I have yet to meet. Despite being well-groomed, he's like the wild man of Ireland. First he showed us his cows, and the smell reminded me of home. Then we hiked up what was essentially his backyard. I asked him if he's ever still in awe of living in such a beautiful place to which he responded, "I don't like it on days like today. I like it when it's sunny." Granted, the winds were blowing at about 70mph and the sky was gray. I think the weather actually added something to its beauty, but maybe that's just me.
By the end of the hike we were all exhausted and frozen. The winds were so strong we couldn't walk a straight line. John became suddenly sociable, offering us tea and apple tart that his mother had made that morning, saying we could sit around the fire and warm up while we ate. He must have mentioned this five times, so we were all excessively hungry and excited to get warm by the time we reached the bottom.
Then John led us into a room, got behind a counter, cut up the pie, and promptly charged us 4 euro for his hospitality. We then spent the next half hour making awkward small talk with him in his living room while we waited for the bus to pick us up for the next part of the tour. I think his odd character added to the whole experience. I can't remember the last time I had as much fun as that hike!
Above is our super friendly tour guide John.The bus took us across a whole bunch of sites, generally just pulling to the side for pictures. The area is littered with ring forts (or fairy forts as they're sometimes called), famine cottages, and fairy trees. There's also a sprinkling of castles thrown in for good measure. The next big site was the Cliffs of Moher. For all you Princess Bride fans, this was where the "Cliffs of Insanity" portion of the movie was filmed. By this point in the day the winds were reaching hurricane levels. The bus had begun to shake, and the driver informed us that the euro fee to see the cliffs had so kindly been waived, so that we wouldn't be a liability if we got blown off the edge. I'm serious. We pushed through the wind, rain, hail, and a shower of loose rock (which hit me in the head) to get to the top, and it was breathtaking. For a moment I really did think I might die, but the benefit of seeing a place like this in such bad weather was that we would never get to see the waves look as frightening and simultaneously inspiring on an ordinary day. I'm glad I braved the elements and stayed away from the edge.
The wind started howling to such a pitch that people started shrieking and getting thrown into the rock barrier, so we decided to head back to the bus and the sun came out. About 300m from the edge, we realized it was raining again. It wasn't normal rain, though. Upon closer inspection, we realized it was raining seafoam. The sky raining seafoam has got to be the oddest thing I have ever seen in my life (even in comparison to Obama dance man).
Bracing ourselves against the wind.
We got back in to Galway around 5:30pm, soaked to the bone and starving. We made a meal at the hostel and then went to Taaffes, which was the best Irish pub I have yet to go to and by far the most traditional. It was full to bursting, and a bunch of old Irish men played traditional music in the back. An old man did some traditional dancing with Jackie. It was a mix of ages throughout the place, but no one had an accent that wasn't Irish. At one point people even began singing along to an IRA tune. Amanda's friend from Ireland, Fergal, then joined us as well. Fergal is insanely tall, something like 7 feet, so he was quite the character to have around for the evening. It was like having our own Big Friendly Giant, and it was easy to find the group if anyone got lost in a pub or bar. Our second stop of the night was a bar that was unremarkable, then The Living Room, which was a great way to end the night with dancing. I highly recommend it!
Fergal didn't have a place to stay, so Amanda tried to sneak him in to our hostel, which as expected was a complete failure because you can't exactly sneak a giant into anywhere. We said goodbye to Chris who should be in Spain by now. Thus ended one of the most surreal, strange, and awesome days imaginable.
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