"What is happening cannot be defined. It is happening. It is a spontaneous uprising that has been building for years in our collective unconscious. It is a gorgeous, mischievous moment that has arrived and is spreading. It is a speaking out, coming out, dancing out. It is an experiment and a disruption." --Eve Ensler, author of The Vagina Monologues

Fleeting Fantasyland

What I really owe all you readers and myself is a long update on what I've been doing over here in Ireland, but I'm going to write today about something else related to my study abroad experience and to my life in general.

Ever since I've been here, there has been a ticking timer, ready to go off at any second that will signal the end of my Irish adventure and the return to my American one.  Never in my life have I had such a defined deadline for the end of a chapter in my life.  In grammar school, I had eleven years in the same place so it never seemed that the clock was really ticking... when it was time for graduation, I was ready to be gone.  In high school, I had four years... but at the end of this time, too, I was ready to move on.  Of course at the end of it I was frustrated with the fact that I still hadn't gotten to know everyone in my class, but I knew that I needed to get out and live on my own.  And even before I came to Ireland, I wasn't ready for my time at SLU to be over... I knew I was going back there, but I was thinking about all the things I would be missing out on there while I was gone.  And now I have this time in Ireland... this four month period where I am supposed to assimilate into the Irish lifestyle, make friends, learn about a culture, do schoolwork, travel, have fun... all this in four months???

This time in Ireland is passing so quickly; I now only have a month and a half left here.  I know I need to focus on the present, on enjoying every last bit of time I have here, but it is so hard to do when I know that I have met so many awesome people and have had such a short time with them.  If they are meant to stay in my life, we will stay in touch, right?  From past experience I know that I am terrible at keeping in touch with my friends when we are far away.  This time I have here with them is so temporary and so beautiful and so happy and so sad.  We can only stay here for a short period of time and then we must move on... and it is that way with all of life, I suppose.  So maybe my time here abroad is a life lesson in more ways than one... it is showing me the volatile nature of life... nothing is permanent.  And love and experiences can still be strong even if they are over in the proverbial blink of an eye.

So after all that wisdom and whining I've shared with you here, I'll treat you with a quick rundown of what has been going on in my life. 

I know I teased you with the thought of another post on my second round of adventures with the Irish cousins, but I ended up getting sick and not being able to go to Westport!  I was so sad and disappointed the whole weekend and for the next few weeks after that.  Luckily I was able to go see them again!

So I had a lazy weekend in Galway while I was sick, feeling miserable not only that I was missing one of my few chances to see the Irish cousins but also because I was sick in the most unwelcoming apartment possible, without the comforts of home.  The next weekend, however, was a huge improvement.  It was my first international travel since I'd been to Ireland--BELGIUM!  I was going to see two of my best friends, Erica and Joey, who are studying in Brussels.  Honestly, this weekend was exactly what I needed.  At this point, after being in Ireland for a little over a month, I was getting really homesick... more people sick than homesick, but you understand I'm sure.  And getting to see these people who are like home to me, who know me and understand me and accept me was SO WONDERFUL.  Like unexplainably wonderful.  We were of course in Brussels for most of the time, but the first day I was there we also went to Bruges, this beautiful medieval city.  Ahhh honestly, I felt like it was the town where Belle (Beauty from Beauty and the Beast) lived, even though she was from France.  I mean, Belgians speak French, too, right??  Haha even though in Bruges they actually speak Dutch.  But I digress. 

The next weekend, I had hiking adventures in Sligo, a county in Ireland.  I was traveling with some new friends... two American girls, Victoria and Emily, a German boy, Norman, and two French boys, Remi and Florian.  We didn't know each other all that well at first, but by the end of the weekend we were all very close.  It was the perfect group of people--we all were up for adventure and were in no hurry to get anywhere.  We climbed up this hill called Knocknarea, where Queen Maeve is buried.  It was one of the best weekends I've had in Ireland.  We got to sing songs, tell stories, see the most beautiful scenery... and once we got to Sligo it didn't rain all weekend!  That is an honest-to-God miracle in Ireland.

The next weekend I got to go see my Irish cousins again =] This time I stayed with Fiona the first night and Sinead the second night.  It was a very relaxed, very fun weekend.  One of the things I've loved about being in Ireland is that people take the time to go visit each other without an occasion, something I haven't really experienced in America.  I guess this also stems from the fact that Padraig's kids, all seven of them, live in the same neighborhood so it is a lot easier for them to visit each other than for my family to visit each other at home.  Nonetheless, I've really appreciated this close proximity of family here.

Two weekends ago, I went to visit my friend Claire in Leiden, the Netherlands.  It is a beautiful city and I loved all the bicycles.  When we went to Amsterdam we went to Anne Frank's house, which was a particularly special experience for me as I have always loved Anne Frank.  I used to read all about her, watch movies about her... I am basically and Anne Frank buff.  I got chills when I was in her bedroom.  The rooms aren't furnished anymore because Otto Frank, Anne's father and the only member of the Secret Annexe to survive the Holocaust, wanted it to always remain unfurnished like it was after the Nazis came there and arrested everyone in hiding.  But they still had the pictures that Anne had pasted on the walls, the map that Otto Frank used to track the British invasion, and the marks on the wall of how tall the girls had grown while they were in hiding.  After that trip I was inspired to reread Anne Frank's diary and am actually currently working on it.

So this past weekend was my first in Galway in four weeks... I was glad to be back but I was also feeling restless because I'd become so used to traveling.  It ended up being a much-needed relaxing weekend.

And now, this weekend, I will be in Galway again.  I am looking forward to the next few weeks since my parents are coming, Erica and Joey are visiting, and the week after next my friend Clare (studying in Rome) will be coming to visit!  I am going to soak up as much of Ireland as possible in the next few weeks!  I need to make the most out of my temporary adventure, this fleeting fantasyland.  I'll post pictures soon!

Some fun things about Ireland

1. Many Irish people say "ye" instead of you.
2. They often use the word "dear" to mean expensive.

"In the face of suffering, one has no right to turn away, not to see.  In the face of injustice, one may not look the other way.  When someone suffers, and it is not you, they come first.  Their suffering gives them priority... To watch over another who grieves is a more urgent duty than to think of God." -Elie Wiesel

Two Townies in the Country: Part Two

YoYoYo.

Exciting update: I am going back to Westport on Thursday and staying with Sinead one night, Mary the other.

Soooo, since time is passing so quickly and I am easily falling behind on my blogging, I must finish writing about my first weekend with the cousins before the second begins.

Steve in 2005.  What a baby he was!

Me, coming down from the tractor =]

Amy and I woke up Saturday morning and to Shane's disappointment, were not all that hungover.  We had some Coco Pops for breakfast and then Shane took us out on the tractor!  First he drove us around and then he taught me out to drive it... but I was absolutely dreadful.  On the tractor there are multiple brakes, multiple accelerators... it was just not working out for me.  I made Amy take a picture of me jumping down from the tractor because the picture of Steve from when my mom visited in '05 was of him coming down from a tractor.  I mentioned it to him when we went out on Friday and, amazingly, he remembered it being taken!  He said that he had just jumped off the tractor and some person he had never met before made him climb back up so she could take a picture of him.  You left quite the impression, Ma ;-)

Shane, the twelve-year-old, teaching me how to drive.

After the tractor excursion, Gerry, Shane, and Brian took us to see the new baby calf that had been born that morning.  Amy and I were not happy that they hadn't woken us up to see the birth of the calf!  But, everyone had either overestimated Steve or underestimated us and thought we would be too sick and need a "lie in."  Actually, I am more than certain that what really happened was that Steve was warned to take it easy on us and therefore ended up not drinking as much as he normally might have.  I definitely have noticed that the Irish people do drink a lot more than people at home do.  I'm sure there are both positive and negative outcomes resulting from this.  Obviously, alcoholism is more likely to occur in a society that revolves so much around social drinking, but it is also nice to see that the adults still go out with friends and family.  One thing that happens at home is that adults often stop seeing their friends once they have families, but here it is normal for adults to still go out to the pubs.  I digress.

The calf was really cute and it was awesome to see all the different animals that my cousins have on their farm.  We waved goodbye to the calf and when we got back to Louise and Gerry's, Fiona was waiting for us.  We got into her car and went to pick up Sinead and Mary because they were taking us to explore Aughagower and Westport for the day.  I'd met Mary the night before but this was my first time meeting Sinead.  She and Fiona definitely do look a lot alike but luckily Amy and I were able to tell them apart.

Me bein' cute at Aughagower Cemetery.

 First they took us to Aughagower Cemetery where some family members or other were buried... I love old cemeteries so it was cool to see even if I didn't know exactly how I was related everyone there.  I wanted to take pictures but I thought that would be kind of weird... I got a few snapshots in though.  At Aughagower is also St. Patrick's bed... I'm not really clear on the background of this, especially since my history professor insists that everything I have ever read or heard about St. Patrick is either a mistake or a lie.  The church at the cemetery is the place my great-grandma was baptized.  Cute anecdote: Grandma Nora didn't meet her husband, Robert Sammon, until they were in America, but it turned out that they had been baptized in the same church!  Precious moments.

Church at Aughagower.

Joseph's Cows.

After the cemetery we went to Turlough House which is a beautiful house that has a museum alongside it.  The house was closed while we were there, but the museum was really interesting.  There was so much history about the Aran people.  I usually do not enjoy museums much but this was fascinating to me.  I think because it was focused only on the Aran people it was more in depth and therefore more intriguing.

We went to lunch in Castlebar following our adventure to Turlough House.  Apparently the Sammons are from Castlebar so I need to do some research to see if there is some family still there.  I did, however, meet a guy from Castlebar a few weeks ago and he said he knew some Sammons there and that they were probably related to me since Sammon is not a very common last name.  I don't really know how to go about finding these relations so if anyone has any leads, let me know!

Amy and I were really tired after all of our exploration.  I'd already been tired on Friday since I had to wake up early to register for a class, and going out the night before didn't help matters.  After lunch, we drove to Cathy's house.  CATHY LIVES ON CROAGH PATRICK.  The view from her house is gorgeous, but Cathy kept saying that it wasn't good because the weather was so bad and we couldn't see very far.  I can't imagine what the view must be like on a day without rain because even the view we had was far more beautiful than any view I'd ever had before.

Joseph winning at Connect Four.

The cousins were all so welcoming this weekend.  Every single one of them.  They are so kind and funny-- honestly the nicest people I've ever met.  We walked into Cathy and Joe's house and they came up to us and hugged us and said "You are welcome."  I have never had anyone say "you are welcome" to me in such a pure sense of the phrase.  Cathy and Joe are gorgeous and have a beautiful family.  Their kid are 12, 10, 8, and 6 and their names are Lisa, Kate, Sean, and Joseph.  They are all so sweet and funny!  Cathy is apparently the cook of the family and she made us some delicious lasagna for dinner.  The day we came, the kids got hooked on Connect Four so we played that after dinner for a long time.  Later on, Cathy took us out to a pub but Amy and I were so exhausted that we could only stay out for one drink.

Me with Kate and Joseph.

Left to Right: Joseph, Tricia, Me, Padraig, Kate, Cathy.

In the morning, Cathy made us our first Irish breakfast and it was delicious, although Amy and I wish we hadn't found out what the black and white pudding is made from.  After breakfast Cathy, Lisa, and Kate took us for a ride to the bottom of the Reek (Croagh Patrick) and then drove us around the countryside so that we could see some of the beautiful landscape.  When we got back to Cathy's she made us a huge lunch and we tried lamb for the first time.  It was really good... and I felt better knowing that it was their lamb and that it was not cruelly treated or transported from some random farm.  Padraig, Brian, and Tricia came over for lunch and then we had to say goodbye to everyone.  I was in no way ready to leave and I found Galway contemptible for the first few days after my return.

I guess I can't really some up what this weekend meant to me in words, because these feelings do not translate into English.  This was the first long-term dream of mine that I had come true, meeting the cousins, and it is an exhilarating feeling to have a dream come true.  Never have I met such a welcoming group of people.  They made me feel at home right away as they teased me and Amy and laughed at our love for the sheep.  I am very happy to be going back there this weekend to get to know these cousins even better.  Hugs and kisses from Ireland.

There is a willow grows aslant a brook

That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream

There with fantastic garlands did she come

Of crow-flowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples

That liberal shepherds give a grosser name,

But our cold maids do dead men's fingers call them. 

There on the pendent boughs her coronet weeds

Clambering to hang, an envious sliver broke;

When down the weedy trophies and herself

Fell in the weeping brook.  Her clothes spread wide,

And mermaid-like awhile they bore her uo;

Which time she chanted snatches of old tunes,

As one incapable of her own distress,

Or like a creature native and endued

Unto that element.  But long it could not be

Till that her garments, heavy with their drink,

Pulled the poor wretch from her melodious lay

To muddy death.

-Gertrude, The Tragedy of Hamlet

Crepe Central: A Narration in Pictures

Eagerly awaiting her first crepe at the farmers' market.

Yummy Crepes.  We got the one with caramelized bananas, Belgian chocolate, and Bailey's.  Yum.

My first bite of the delicious crepe!

Amy still waiting for her crepe...

Happy to finally have her crepe!

Arthur's Day in Galway!

What lucky ducks we were to be able to toast Arthur Guinness in Galway this year!

i love adventures.

Two Townies in the Country: Part I

WE LOVE SHEEP!

Wazzup friends, family, and random visitors?!?

I am about to tell you about the best weekend I’ve had in a long while. *Disclaimer*: Before, During, and After you read this blogpost you will most likely experience feelings of jealousy, thoughts of “Why-Am-I-Not-In-Your-Shoes” and other serious side effects. Hilary Korabik is not responsible for any such occurences. Please read only as directed, and if you suffer from bouts of envy, this might not be the blogpost for you.

I finally met my Irish cousins! I have known about them for only six years, but in this small fraction of my life, I have romanticized ideas of kinship and friendship. I suppose I have never admitted it before, but those of you who know me well will agree that I am somewhat of a romantic. Not romcom romantic but fanciful, idealist romantic. Ya know? I am certain this weekend was more of a novelty for me than it was for the people I visited since they tend to have distant relatives come visit them once in a while, but I had the time of my life. And I owe it all to them.  Cut to Dirty Dancing: go hereeee.

I have been thinking about this ever since I got back from Westport, and I have realized that the beauty of the dream is that it could all fall apart.  I realized after the fact that I was so nervous to meet my cousins because I had been dreaming of meeting them for so long and had this picture in my head of how things would be… and the dream had the potential to come true, but also had the potential to deteriorate…

This all started back in June 2005 when my mom called me while in Ireland. She said she had met our Irish cousins and that one of them, Louise, had a son named Stephen who had the same birthday as me. Exactly the same age. I have never had cousins my age before so this was extremely exciting for me. After this weekend, I must admit that my head hurts trying to figure out how exactly everyone is related to me, but I’ve come to the conclusion that Stephen and I are third cousins. And I’m not budging on that even if it’s wrong because I cannot think about it anymore. So even though we are very distant relations I still found it thrilling that I had a cousin that was the same age as me. I remember being at family parties and all my cousins would leave to go out together and leave my little self behind and I always wished I was their age so I could go with them. Basically, what I am saying is that ever since I heard about this birthday twin of mine, I have wanted to go to Ireland to meet him and the rest of the family. And this weekend, that dream came true.

Before I begin, let me explain my relationship to these cousins.  My great-grandma, Nora Waters, had a sister named Sadie.  Sadie was a baby when all her sisters left for America.  Sadie’s son is Padraig, and he still lives in the house where my great-grandma lived.  Padraig is my grandpa Barney’s first cousin.  He has seven children: Louise, Fiona, Sinead, Cathy, Mary, Tricia, and Brian.  That’s as simple as I can make it.  All the Irish people I have met have made fun of me for visiting such distant cousins, but I’m so glad I did!

On Friday, Louise and Fiona came to pick up Amy and me.  I got to sit next to Fiona’s baby Luke on the car ride and he is precious—just one month old!  The whole car ride, Amy and I could not get over how fast people drive on these narrow, winding roads!  But then, they aren’t used to city traffic, which we experience all the time, so I suppose it all evens out.  When we finally got to Aughagower, we stopped by Sinead’s.  She is Fiona’s twin sister.  We didn’t get to meet her until the next day but we had to drop Fiona off to babysit Sinead’s kids, and we had to pick up Louise’s son and our new best friend, Shane.

Shane is 12 years old but he has a huge personality!  He kept calling us townies and thought we were crazy for loving the sheep so much.  He made fun of us a lot, but we wouldn’t have had it any other way.  Friday night after Louise made us a delicious dinner, Shane and Louise’s husband Gerry took us to the top of a hill by Fiona’s house and drove us around on the quad.  It was fun and a bit scary!  When we got to the top we had a beautiful view and I never wanted to leave.  I had never seen so much green before.  Shane made fun of me for saying that, but he didn’t see the brown St. Louis grass this summer.  After Shane drove us up, he gave me and Amy a chance to drive the quad.  It was a lot of fun, but I was afraid I was going to kill a sheep.  When the quadventures were done, we went into Fiona’s house for tea.  Everyone there was talking about how we’d be dead the next day since Stephen McNally was coming home to take us out.  We had never heard so much hype about a night out—as if I wasn’t already nervous enough to meet this cousin of mine!

After a while Tricia took us for a ride and showed us the town of Westport, which is so cute!  She drove us back to Louise’s and we went inside to get ready for our night out… it was a little stressful since we did not know that this Westport adventure was going to be such a big deal and we hadn’t really brought many clothes to wear… the Irish people get decked out when they go out, whereas we are used to dressing for the weather.  The Irish girls are always wearing short, short skirts and high heels, but Amy and I have been opting for jeans, flats, and a sweater… seriously, Ireland is chilly!

When we went back into the kitchen, who was there but Stephen McNally, my birthday twin.  Ahhhhhhhh.  So I know I am a very loud person generally, but I am very shy when I first meet people… especially if I have been wanting to meet them for such a long time!  Sooo I was very quiet when I first met Steve.  We sat in the kitchen while he went to get changed after work and then Darren, who is Mary’s son, walked in.  Darren is 19 and he and Stephen are good friends.  Two cousins my age?!  Miracles do happen.  Gerry drove us into town and we made Steve and Darren take us to the tourist pub Matt Molloy’s, even though they really did not want to go there.  In my opinion, you have to do the tourist thing first to say you’ve done it, and then go do as the locals do!  It was really crowded in there so it was no wonder that they didn’t want to go there.  We stayed there until Amy broke a glass and then we peaced out of there and went wherever Steve and Darren wanted to go… except for night clubs… we said we would not go to a night club.  I know I’ll have to go to one before my time in Ireland is done, but I really am not looking forward to it, so we’ll see when that happens.

Can you ever really explain a good time?  Jokes were made, people were teased, pictures were taken, drinks were bought… all I can say is that I had a fabulous time with Amy, Steve, and Darren.  It was so surreal for me to be out with cousins… As I said before, I was always jealous of my older cousins who went out together after family parties, so it was strange for me to be catching a glimpse of what it is like to have cousins my age.  I’m sure that Steve and Darren were warned not to be too crazy so I think they went easy on us and we really weren’t dead the next morning like everyone expected us to be.  But… Steve and I are turning 21 in December and for some reason 21^st birthdays are really big even here in Ireland… Steve said it is when you “become a man” so I guess it has some coming-of-age sentimentality behind it.  So I may be heading down to Westport the second weekend in December for some birthday celebrations if the invitation still stands… and we’ll see how I am feeling the morning after that!  This post is already extremely long due to the history/background so I’m gonna leave it here for now and will continue on with a part two soon! For now, here are some pictures for you to enjoy.  So much love.  XOXO Hilary

Me standing on the hill by Fiona's House.  That's Croagh Patrick in the background!

Drivin the quad.  Watch out, Sheep!

Birthday twins.

So excited to drink Bulmers and have cousins my age.  Darren is on the left and Steve on my right.

Amy, Shane and me on the quad!

Cousins.

Left to right: Hilary, Amy, Darren.  Yayyyy.

Ethnocentrism and Right-o-centrism?

eth·no·cen·trism [eth-noh-sen-triz-uhm] 

noun

1.  Sociology. the belief in the inherent superiority of one's own ethnic group or culture.

2.  a tendency to view alien groups or cultures from the perspective of one's own.

 

I try very hard to be aware of the tendency toward ethnocentrism that we, as humans, all have, however slight.  Crossing the street in Ireland has made me very aware of an idea that once was dominant, if not in our country, then in the Christian faith.

In the U.S. and in many other countries, drivers keep to the right side of the road.  People stay to the right when going up stairs.  The majority of people know to keep to the RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT.  In Ireland, however, people keep to the left.  This has caused me my fair share of problems whether it be looking the wrong way while crossing the street or going through an awkward little dance while trying to pass someone on the street.

After looking the wrong way while crossing the street for the proverbial millionth time, I began to think about the reasons that people in the U.S. might keep to the right.  Obviously, they might do it just to be different from the British.  They might do it because for some reason it was easier to keep to the right.  But then a story came to mind about my godmother and her left hand...

When my Auntie Kathy was a little girl, she was left-handed.  Her teachers would make her write with her right hand.  Have you ever tried to write with the hand that is lacking dexterity?!  It's nearly impossible!  The reason the did not want her to be left-handed: the left hand was associated with the devil.  

Could this be the reason that so many people drive on the right side of the road?  As I looked into it, I realized that there are actually practical reasons for driving on the left/right side of the road that stayed or fell out of favor with specific countries over time.  Originally, most people drove and walked on the left side of the road.  As most people are right-handed, they would keep their weapons on the right, so if they walked on the left side of the road, it would be easier to pull out their weapon on an enemy.  This changed with Napoleon, who was left-handed, and therefore needed to walk on the right side to pull his weapon out on an opponent.  After that, any land that was colonized by France began to use right-sided traffic.

But even after this little mystery was solved, the story of my godmother remained in my head.  Why was the devil associated with the left hand?  I found a site with many myths and traditions about left-handedness.  Some of the most interesting are:

• Getting out of bed with the left foot first means you will have a bad day and be bad-tempered.
• Wedding rings worn on the third finger of the left hand originated with the Greeks and Romans, who wore them to fend off evil associated with the left hand.
• The right hand often symbolizes "male" and the left hand "female."  Who thought this up?
• A left handed toast supposedly curses a victim.
• In  Christianity it is the right hand that gives the blessing and makes the sign of the cross.  

 Another one I thought of: we decide who plays next in a game by whoever is sitting to the right.  Another: we play the melody of a piano piece with the right hand and the harmony with the left.  Why all this infatuation with the right hand and hatred of the left?  Why do lefties get whatever is "leftover?" 

 

My only idea is that the right-handed people of the world decided this.  This happens in all aspects of the world.  There are more right-handed people so their voices will be heard.  Money speaks so the people who have a lot of it will be listened to as opposed to the people who actually need help.  I could go on and on and on about this, but I just wanted to point it out.  We are so used to accepting whatever is common or whatever is tradition as what is "right" or "correct."  See, even the word "right" is defined as "in accordance with whatever is good, proper, or just."  Clearly, if a child naturally does things with left-handed dexterity, he or she should be allowed to do so as that will give him or her the ability to work best.   It is simply because most people were right-handed that these negative ideas of the left hand sprouted up.  Human beings are always afraid of something that is different, something that they don't understand, so they try to curse it, to make it a bad thing.  Things that are different can be good, and they can be bad... but we should not put a negative or even a positive label on them simply because they are not what we are familiar with, simply because they are different.

Classes? Nahhhhh

So far today, one of our profs didn't show up, and the other one came and put a slide up on the projector and then left, saying that we would start class tomorrow instead.  Summary of the first day of classes:

 

The U.S. students are the only ones who seem very concerned about this at all.  Here's to hoping we get our lives sorted out soon.  Cheers!

First Day of Classes...

So I know I can be uptight about some things, but in general I'd say I'm a pretty laid-back person. 

That being said, NUIGalway is stressing me out!  And classes haven't even started yet! 

I am so nervous about not being able to get into the classes I need. 

MEOW.

 

Today is technically "the first day of classes" but apparently the first year courses don't start until next week and the seminar courses don't start until a week or two after that!  I feel so stereotypically American right now: not being able to relax and take things as they come, always needing a schedule, needing a plan.  Right now I'm sitting in the library with five other girls from the U.S. and we are all feeling this same anxiety.  Ahhhhh. 

First bowl of clam chowder!

Only boys who wear their wellies have a chance with me!

The sun was shining in Galway today, a sight I have seldom seen since my arrival five days ago.  The air was crisp, and I am excited for a long autumn, as my favorite season is too often cut short back home in the Midwest.  I have been here for a little less than a week, but I am slowly beginning to worry that I will never want to leave.  The people are friendlier, the city more beautiful, the coffee more delicious, and I have yet to eat a meal that conforms to the stereotype of Irish food being bad.  Everything here is fresh and local, and I find myself eating less because I am more satisfied with what I have eaten.  My sole complaint: I have not met nearly as many Irish people since Mike left for Rome!  Apparently, the Irish students are not yet on campus so I have only been meeting other international students.  I have met wonderful people from France, Germany, Belgium, Italy… but I have yet to meet someone my age from Ireland!  I am looking forward to classes starting simply so I can hear a nice, strong brogue.  I am looking forward to tomorrow, when Amy, Allie, and I will go to mass at the Galway Cathedral and then head into town to watch the hurling finals in a pub.  Hurling is the biggest sport in Ireland, and each county has a team.  I hope it’s not too confusing, but I am excited to learn about a new sport and, as Amy said, have an excuse to drink in the afternoon.  I’m peacin’ out, but here are some pictures for you to enjoy! 

Mike and Amy at Galway Bay

Irish band at Taaffe's

World's Smallest Claddagh Ring!

Corrib River

Amy, Mike, and Me with one of our first pints in Ireland!

Some of our new international friends =]

no such thing as too much craic

I finally made it! Amy and I arrived in Ireland yesterday morning, 8am local time, 2am Chicago time. I didn't sleep well at all on the plane so I was very tired when I got here. I braced myself for some adventuring as we got ready to go through customs, claim our baggage, and find our mysterious bus. Everything went perfectly though, so not much adventuring was needed. We showed the customs man our passports and our school acceptance letters, found our bags immediately, and were directed to a bus heading to Galway without a problem.

I tried to sleep on the bus and got a little shut eye, but about an hour into the plane ride my butt had gotten really sore for some reason and it still hurt on the bus so I couldn't find a comfortable position! We got to Galway with no problems, in about three hours. Galway is beautiful! I haven't taken many pictures of the city yet but I will, don't worry! We exited the bus station (Yes, Dad, the sign said "Exit" instead of "Way Out." I did, however, see a "Way Out" sign later so our dinner conversations were not a complete loss.) and there was a free shuttle going straight to Corrib Village, where we are living. Amy and I are in the same apartment with our own rooms. Amy found a pile of toenail clippings on the floor in her room but other than that the apartment is alright.

We unpacked a bit and then we walked to downtown Galway. It's really nice because in the shopping/pub district it is all pedestrian. Right away we went to get cell phones. The process was so simple that Amy and I were out in about ten minutes after we began talking to the salesmen. We asked us where to go for lunch and the told us to go to the Cellar Bar or Cellar Pub? Pub sounds more Irish but bar sounds correct. We had fish and chips for our first meal in Ireland and it was delicious.

After lunch we went to go look for Penneys to buy bedding and a towel. We easily found it and picked out some inexpensive sheets and a duvet cover. We headed home to drop off our goods before we went back downtown to meet our friend Mike in a pub, but not before we stopped at the corner store to buy some Cocoa Crisps and milk.

We came back to Corrib Village and headed straight out to Galway. It's a good walk from our apartment to the city. We have no trouble getting through Galway--campus is another story!

We met Mike at a pub called The Quays and he bought us a pint. Surprisingly, I like Guinness! We sat at the bar and had our drinks. We kept laughing at Amy because it took her at least an hour to drink her pint. I'm sure her slow and steady drinking will come in handy when we have no money and are going out every night, but for the first night in town it seemed right to relax with a pint. Mike was in town visiting relatives before heading over to study in Rome for the semester. It was nice to see a familiar face and he's been to Ireland a few times so he knows his way around pretty well. After another pint we moved on to a pub called The King's head where we met Mike's cousin Paul. There was live music but it was contemporary so it wasn't as exciting as traditional Irish music. I did feel at home though when the song "Breakfast a Tiffany's" was performed--it made me think of all my friends from St. Louise and our bonfire singalongs. Next we went to the pub called Taaffe's. There was a good crowd for a Monday night and it was a lot of craic (craic is another word for "fun" and is pronounced "crack.")

Mike's cousin Paul drove us home and I went to sleep pretty quickly. I woke up at 10am today and am now going to bed very late Ireland time so maybe I will not have jetlag? I hope so but maybe it will kick in tomorrow.

We met Mike down on Shoppe Street today and got some raingear for me and a hair dryer for me and Amy to share. Then we got... more fish and chips! Sooo good, but the fried food is starting to get to me so I think I'll start eating better now.

We had a grand time today as we had the opportunity to meet a lot of Irish people (I knew there was a reason we were keeping Mike around.). Mike's cousin and his wife Dawn invited us over for dinner so we went a bit out of Galway and got to see some beautiful views. We stopped for tea at Dawn's parents' house and the view was gorgeous! I figured out how to hold a teacup today by looking at how Dawn was doing it--I guess I never really drink out of teacups and I was afraid I was going to spill it! Dawn and Paul have a beautiful baby named Madison, but she didn't like me very much which made me sad. She would look at Amy and Mike and smile and then she would look at me and get very upset. I don't know what I did wrong!

After tea we left for Ashbury which is the name of Paul and Dawn's home. Doesn't it sound like something out of Pride and Prejudice? Their house is gorgeous and they were grand hosts. They talk and talk and make everyone feel so comfortable. After dinner Paul drove us back into Galway and we all stopped for a pint before Paul left. Hopefully Amy and I will get to see him again as they gave us their numbers if we ever need anything! Meeting them made me so much more excited to go to Westport and meet my own family. We went into one more pub and a man named Declan came up to us and asked if he could talk with us for a bit. Apparently he had thought he had seen his friend over by us and so he told someone he was going to talk to him and he'd been mistaken so he needed to stay and talk to us as to not be embarrassed about his mistake. He was very entertaining and Amy and I are looking forward to meeting a few more people like him.

After our pint we headed to Supermac's which is a fastfood restaurant. Amy got some cheese fries which Mike and I shared with her. Then we headed to the bus station to drop Mike off. He's currently riding to Dublin because his flight to Rome leaves at 6am. It was sad to see him leave because we'd had a lot of craic and it was good to know someone with Irish connections, but I'm sure we'll run into him again sometime while we're still here.

It's very late and I am soooo very tired and sleep deprived so I am going to go, but I will write again soon and PICTURES ARE SOON TO COME.

Peace all the way from Ireland,
Hilary

On this day in history...

John Lennon’s murderer was sentenced.

A special connection I have with the date of Lennon’s murder, as December 8^th is my birthday. Lennon was, however, killed ten years before I was born, so I did not have the chance to live on this earth while his physical presence was still here.

I read earlier today that Lennon’s murderer, Mark David Chapman, began reading The Catcher in the Rye while at the crime scene, and read the book at his trial. It makes me cringe to think about how he could have been so calm after ending another human being’s life. He later revealed his motivation for killing Lennon: he wanted to “be somebody.” He’d thought about killing Johnny Carson or Elizabeth Taylor but thought that Lennon was more accessible. What!?!?

So, Ireland, this is really happening.

This adventure in Europe has been hypothetical for the past year and a half, and the adventure specifically in Ireland has been floating around for probably eight months. But now... I am leaving Chicago in five days. It finally started to feel real when my mom and I went shopping on Sunday and got a backpack for weekend traveling, a new camera, and fabric for some new skirts. Today I got a planner and a sketchbook/ideabook/journal/whateveryouwouldliketocallit. Why does it take my purchasing new things for the reality to click in? Here are some pics of my packing progress:

My new ideabook (left) and my new planner:

Suitcase: almost packed!

Cute little Vera Wang bag to hold my passport and toiletries.

The books I will be bringing overseas with me =]