Cup of Tea?

     One of the activities I've decided to pick up while abroad is fencing. We meet Tuesdays and Thursdays for about 2 hours and practice footwork, form, and poking at each other. For us newbies it is obviously difficult, but at the moment we don't care that our legs hurt like nobody's business - we are too in love with the idea of sword fighting. That is, until we encounter a set of stairs, and they're easy to avoid, right?
     Ha. Hahaha. Usually, stairs can be circumvented and minimized, unless you're lucky enough to have a homestay program scheduled for the weekend. I don't mean that sarcastically, the homestay experience can be an incredible one, but man the house I was placed in was 80% stairs. The house was tall, narrow and part of a set if you will. The rooms were all a "normal" size, but the hallways were tiny so that the rooms were packed closely together. At the very top of the stairs, the square landing is framed on 3 sides by doors; there isn't even any space for a wall-corner to separate the doors, so its all just wood.
     Each meal we had was home-cooked. They got rid of their microwave a week or two before, citing that it couldn't possibly be healthy. Martin, the father, was head cook for one of the pubs on Shop Street once, and both him and Roisin (his wife) are amazing cooks. They also have a little girl named Lily who is too cute! That first night Maggie (my fellow homstayee) and I went to bed early after getting some school work done, and the next morning we were dropped off at the Spanish Arch, at the end of Quays Street, near Shop Street.
     I should mention here that our homestay, along with 11 other people, was situated in Galway, and that the remainder of our group went to Castlebar. Since we were guests only for the weekend, most of the families assumed we wanted to spend our time exploring the city. . . the city that we've been living in for the last few weeks, that is. In this regard, the homestay was a bit disappointing since we didn't get the chance to see more of the country. Most of us probably would've ended up in the same area, just in a different context. We made the best of it by visiting the Galway museum and touring the Saturday morning "farmer's market."
     Sunday morning Maggie and I attended mass with Roisin and Lily. I've been to mass only once before as part of my church's confirmation, so it wasn't wholly unfamiliar. The church (cathedral?) was in a residential area and situated so that one couldn't find it unless you knew it was there. The four of us were running about 10 minutes late, which meant we were right on time as we took our seats. You could definitely feel the sense of community within this church - kids were running everywhere, and the lady I sat next too was my host mom's grade school teacher, which makes sense seeing how many kids waved at her as they walked past.
     After mass, we were invited back to Lily's grandparents' house (Roisin's parents) for tea and biscuits, which turned into tea and sweets and playing with Lily. Roisin had to run to the supermarket, so we stayed with Lily and her grandparents and chatted about American and Irish school systems. When I brought up that I go to school out of state in Arizona, and drive 11 hours to my college, they were surprised.
     I'm finding that most people are. In Ireland most students go home every weekend to work, do laundry, and maybe do some schoolwork. I've been asked if I drive home every weekend, and when I said no, I only go back for Thanksgiving, Christmas, spring break, and maybe one other time . . . they aren't sure how to respond. From my point of view, it seems very natural to not see my parents for weeks on end, and talk to them only once a week. But then again, I'm very independent and don't know any differently. Like I said, the college students here go home every weekend - even the partiers - which to me seems stifling, but for them it is a comfort and expected. Different from what I'm used too, but based off of my host family, going home every weekend would be quite enjoyable!
     I had a lovely weekend with them, and I think if I ever have the opportunity to host international students, I would. I shall -

• Have activities and sights to go see with them if they want that experience
• But also give them the option to chill and relax all weekend (like I did)
• Pack them a lunch. Because it was so sweet of my "Mum" to pack a lunch for us on Saturday (so cute!)
• Home cook every meal (to the best of my ability) because I enjoyed that beyond reason after cooking pasta for myself all week
• Show them were that lights switches are - very important. And also often overlooked
• Invite them to take a long luxurious bath. I didn't because we'd been warned about using too much hot water by our program managers, but the temptation was there.

The weekend wasn't what I thought it would be. There were no sheep grazing in a quaint little pasture out back, and my family was hip, cool and very modern. Yet, every meal was home cooked. It wasn't what I thought it would be, no, but it was still a healthy social encounter that gave insights into normal every-day Irish life, separate from student life at the college. Maggie and I both expressed wishes to meet up with our family later in the semester, and share another cup of tea.

♥C

Castles, Cliffs, and Tradition

     I have now been in class at NUI Galway for a week and a half, and classes are going well. I am, after all, here for college and my studies. The classes, or "modules" are much larger than any of those I've taken at home - nearly all of them take place in lecture theatres that hold 100+ people, and they emphasis self-study learning, rather than daily assessment learning. I think some would call the lectures "traditional," as in we are a collective group being taught in a "dated" fashion.
     Honestly, though? I love it. Maybe that's just because I respond well to this teaching style. I like to learn new things, I enjoy reading up on my own time over topics that interest me, and I like the idea of essay finals - right up my alley.
     This past Sunday the International Students Society (ISS) hosted a trip to the Cliffs of Moher, one of the most iconic landscapes found in Ireland, and I found myself drawn into the landscape. If you're lucky enough to go to the cliffs on a nice day, you should. It's absolutely gorgeous. Everything about traditional Ireland is.
     And there's that word "traditional" again, which got me thinking about what tradition really is. The dictionary definition runs along the lines of "the handing down of statements, beliefs, legends, customs, information, etc., from generation to generation, especially by word of mouth or by practice." Or more eloquently, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJO35zU5bXg .
     Most of the classes I'm taking this semester deal with the idea of what it means to be Irish, past present and future. Just this week, we've touched on Jame Joyce's Dubliners, real Celtic art as found in the archaeological record, and the development of Holy Wells in pagan Ireland. Now, I'm not an expert on it or anything, but I'm starting to feel slightly guilty when I say I listened to traditional Irish music, or saw a traditional Irish castle, because I don't know what that means, and neither do many contemporary Irish students. If I asked you what you thought traditional American culture was, how would you answer? Not the values, but the culture. I found it difficult. Its easy enough to list the characteristics of "America" or "Ireland," but how accurate are those descriptions?
     Going back to the Cliffs of Moher topic, this was the first real chance I had to see rural Ireland and a landscape without the modern instalment of buildings. The cliffs plunge down into the ocean, and dark blue waves crash against the rocks as birds circle their nests. A castle sits at the highest point along the ridge, but when you approach it, you can see that it's not an old ruin from days of old. The entire time we were there, the wind tangled our hair and we soon gave up trying to tame it. It was beautiful . . .
     The only thing that didn't fit the picture was the lack of Irish people. I think I heard more French spoken than any other language, as the Cliffs of Moher are quite popular with the tourists. That doesn't lessen the experience, but it is a humble reminder that for some, the cliffs are a source of income. Especially in the gift shop, which sold every kind of souvenir you could ask for.
     Later in the week, some friends and I went to a pub (which has a live band every night of the week) called Quays. Probably my favorite pub so far because the interior had all sorts of intricate "Celtic" woodwork and colorful details. The building had three floors, if you will, that flowed into each other so that from where we were sitting we could see each level. The band that night played a mixture of folk music, and popular hits that translated well enough to be played by flute, guitar, and bodhran (an Irish drum). So, we found our traditional Irish music in a welcoming pub, and enjoyed the evening. I love the "traditional Irish music" - the drum and flute sounded so happy, so lively. So very Irish.
     A recent conversation of mine fell to the topic of tea, and at some point I replied I was having "Irish breakfast tea . . . whatever that means." When I typed it into Google, the first link to pop up was Wikipedia, which mentions in the first paragraph "Many tea producers make Irish breakfast tea blends specifically for the United States market," right after listing some brands. Basically, its just a blend of black teas. But, if those tea leaves aren't grown in Ireland, are they still considered Irish tea? Or, if Irish breakfast tea is grown, produced, and served in the US, is it Irish-breakfast-tea-inspired-United States-breakfast-tea? What makes it so different from other teas, and what is the history behind it? Wikipedia can only answer so many questions, it seems.
     Regardless, I enjoyed my traditional Irish weekend; visiting the cliffs, listening to music, and drinking my tea. As for the concept of tradition, I have a feeling that theme will be reoccurring.

♥ C

Dollar Menu Swans

     The Quarter-pounder from McDonald's tastes about the same here as it does in the US. I rarely eat at McDonald's - it's just not my thing - but on a clear sunny day here in Ireland (I'm not joking), my sister and I decided to check out the fast food restaurant located on Shop Street and do a comparison test. The hamburger might have been a little better than in the states, but since I haven't had one for close to 5 years, its hard to say. Interestingly enough, the McDonald's in Ireland offer mozzarella sticks as a side, which I have not seen in the US, but let me know if I'm wrong about that. They also do not have a dollar menu . . . because they have euros. So, when I was looking at the menu and saw "Euro Savers" I dismissed it and only found out when we got to the table that Euro Savers = Dollar Menu, which I found hilarious for some reason. A rose by any other name, and all that.
     As mentioned, Ireland had a beautiful sunny day earlier this week. So nice that I was able to go out in a t-shirt and modest jacket and be perfectly warm AND since a class I was interested in taking was suddenly cancelled, I had the entire day free to go exploring with my sister. During the day, in the sun, without rain or clouds or any obligation to be somewhere at any time. It was lovely.
     During the two weeks or so since we've been here most people have commented on or have apologized for the rain, because it doesn't really ever go away. One retired professor was giving a lecture on how most invaders left Ireland alone because they did not like it here, it was too rainy. The Romans' armor would rust, so they left, etc.
     If Ireland had more sunny days like it did earlier this week, the country's entire history would be completely different because people wouldn't want to leave, I think. It was gorgeous.
     It was also the first day we went out exploring with a destination in mind: Galway Bay. Again, I'm not a huge fan of the ocean, I have contact lenses that make swimming in it difficult, I don't like the saltiness, I don't like sharks or other invisible predators, and I'm not a fan of the sand. I do, however, like colder oceans with rocky beaches that don't expect people to swim in them. That's the kind of bay Galway has here, as far as I could tell.
     After lunch at the famous McD's, we found out it was only a short distance further to the bay. We walked around, took pictures like the long-term tourists we are, and scouted out other places we would like to visit on a rainy day (which there are plenty of) such as the Galway Museum. An important part of our makeup for who we are should be noted; my sister and I are very used to the outdoors and nature. We are used to wide open spaces where we can go walking, hiking and camping at a moments notice, and be able to get away from the busyness of city life. I think we were missing that, which is why we kind of urgently had to find the ocean.We needed to know that beyond the city of Galway there was still that open space we could escape too, no matter how charming the city is.
     Ireland tends to be advertised (if you will) as a green rolling landscape with quaint buildings, pastures, sheep, and cute little B&B's. Those images and places exist, but surprise! Ireland has cities too, like Galway, which are made entirely of stone. While beautiful, the tall buildings and narrow streets can make one feel closed in especially when the "one" is myself who has little knowledge of the city and how large it really is. So, it was incredibly comforting to know we were so close to the water. And the swans. Which are awesome.
     Until I came here, I've only ever seen swans in the zoo, and one time in Iowa, so the bird seemed ethereal and foreign to me. I didn't have a great concept of them being totally native to Ireland, thus commonplace. There were 14 swans chillin' in the bay with some sea gulls and pigeons like they owned the place. Which they did, I guess, since mothers would come by with their young children to toss bread at the swans and other birds. One little girl started screaming when she tossed some crumbs in front of her feet and pigeons swarmed around her. Her face clearly said, "Mom! this is NOT fun!" Poor dear is probably scarred for life. We didn't bring any bread, but we took tons of pictures (and when I say we, I mean my sis), and promised we'd come back a different day to feed the swans.
     Surprisingly, I found the swans less magical after I spent some time with them. On our way to class, there is usually a swan sitting in a nest on the river, and in the mist she looks regal and mysterious. When we got close to them, we could see their feet below the water propelling them along. From our vantage point we looked down on them, and could just see through  the water how their big webbed feet awkwardly worked to make them glide gracefully across the water. The effect was like finally discovering how a magician did your favorite magic trick . . . on accident. Cool and entertaining, but also saddening that the image was ruined.
     But, even though they lost some of their elegance by fighting over bread, wagging their tail feathers like a puppy, and standing so that they looked like a woman with her voluminous dress pulled up above her knees, they seemed more real, more human in that they are not one-dimensionally picturesque.
     I think the same goes for Ireland, and any nation in general. There are images and ideas that are promoted as the key characteristics of Ireland, or McDonald's or America, but it takes some more looking to find the true picture.
     I have a friend who is currently in the US, and we where chatting about what there was to do in Ireland if they were to come and visit. I answered visiting the pubs, sight seeing, and a tour of Galway (by yours truly). But there is so much more Ireland has to offer than the traditional sights, and it would be impossible to see absolutely everything in the short span of a week - or even 5 months! The point is, visiting anywhere, be it a different city in your home country, a different part of town, or the park across the street, you can try to see it all (and you should try) or, like the dollar-menu-euro-savers list at McDonald's, you can pick and choose what suits you best. For me, it's Galway city, the country, and white birds.

♥C

   P.S. my other point is, swans are cool, even when they're being silly. 

Normality

     When you think about going abroad, you wonder about all the diversity you'll encounter (culture shock) and how you're going to deal with it. Advice is thrown at you and everyone has to have their say on the differences to expect, which for the most part is very nice, so thank you to everyone who helped prepare me for the cultural differences in Ireland.
     Yet, based on recent experience and observation, young adult culture (late teens-mid 20's) is surprisingly similar . . . especially when it comes to boys.
     The other night, I went out with some of my friends from the US, and as we were walking to meet with our larger group, we were intercepted by some nice Irish lads who had an apartment in the same complex. Needless to say, we decided to all go out as a group together - them to impress the "brilliant American girls" and us to get some sort of education on the city hot spots and culture. Turns out, all the boys in our group were Irish, and all the ladies were American. To some, this may seem like a risky encounter, so let me assure you now that the situation was entirely safe and enjoyable. After all, I think 8 American ladies can outsmart 5 Irish boys if it came down to it, no? Regardless, the point I'm trying to make is that culturally, all boys are pretty much the same. The apartment was a mess, like most bachelor pads I've seen. Empty cans and bottles lay on most flat surfaces, the dishes were rinsed (thankfully), but piled in the sink, and shoes were kicked off and left where they fell. Now, I'm not being critical -the scene was actually comforting. Honestly. Believe it or not, that messy apartment was one of the most reassuring sights since I arrived in Ireland. It was just so normal.
     Also familiar was the willingness of the male gender to accept a dare. The following story is mostly my doing, and I feel slightly guilty, but it ends happily for everyone. On our way in to town (all of us walking - no one drove that night) we stumbled upon the common topic of Parkour since a few of us were jumping around the walkway and lamp posts. The Irish kid I was speaking to (lets call him M) was one of them, and I jokingly asked if he could do a flip in the air and land on his feet. He said of course he could, and I said, do a solid flip, and I'll buy you a drink, naively thinking he'd put it off.
     Nope.
     He jumped over a low bush, took a running start, and flipped, landing on his back in another bush. We were most unimpressed, continued walking, and decided he didn't earn the drink.
     Luckily (or unluckily depending on your morals) the bush was full of thorns. Ergo, so was he. M earned the drink fair and square, and I learned a valuable lesson: Irishmen will do nearly anything for a pint.
     Other commonalities include the following:

• Various drinking games played with cards
• All the different words for "drunk"
• Late night runs to McDonald's, or similar places for french fries (called chips here, FYI)
• Badly singing "Don't Stop Belivin'" because everyone knows that song
• Shows such as Top Gear, South Park, Family Guy, Jersey Shore, Game of Thrones, etc.
• People such as Will Ferrell and Obama . . . they came up the most . . .
• Speaking in fake accents

     There are differences in every culture. While it's important to acknowledge and preserve those differences, I'm coming to find that it is equally important to find the similarities, no matter how outrageous or silly they seem to be.

♥C

Games and Guinness

     New Year's Eve in Ireland is about what you would expect. A big party, small dresses, high shoes, too many drinks, and a cab ride home at 4am.
     I, luckily, avoided most of those moments by opting for The King's Head Pub, jeans, sneakers, and being home by 1pm or so. As for the drinking, well . . . it is Ireland after all, and the first one was free to the first 50 ladies through the door. It would've been rude of me to refuse ;)
     But I'm getting ahead of myself. Yesterday morning, I was up at 7am to leave Dublin by 8:15am. The parting was bitter sweet because we wanted to stay longer and experience the city more, but were also excited to be heading to our adopted city (in my case, Galway. Others in our group were headed for Cork). But before we began our 3 hour bus ride, we got to learn and participate in the Gaelic Games. What are the Gaelic Games? Crazy good fun and slightly scary.
     Gaelic Football is the most popular here in Ireland, like American Football is in the States with the marked difference that Irish players compete for a spot on the national team to play for the joy of playing. That is, they are not paid to play like American athletes are. It's an honor and a personal completion to play for the country as a whole, not a career choice. One of many subtleties to the Irish culture. Gaelic Football is a combination of soccer, American football, basketball, rugby, and a bit of volleyball. I encourage you to check out the game on YouTube somewhere, its quite entertaining to watch http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TEAbWrdB9XU .
     After learning some of the basics (poorly) and playing a scrimmage (my team won), we were ushered to the Hurling field. Again, find YouTube and type in "hurling", there is a video that's 5:22 long and gives you an idea of how the game works http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmzivRetelE . Basically, you have a stick, there's a ball that is about the size of a baseball, and you try to score points in a goal. Here's the thing: the game is a combination (or more like an ancestor of) field hockey, baseball and lacrosse, high speed and a contact sport. If you think Quidditch is the fastest and most intense sport "known" to man, you don't know hurling. Of course we all failed at it since we couldn't pick the darned ball up, so it soon became a game of field hockey with some baseball to score a point. Again, my team won 1-0, which put our entire group to 2-0 Us. And yes, we were very competitive. If there is only one thing we knew how to do, it was the "contact" part of the sport.
     We then moved into the mundane indoors to learn Irish hand ball which is racquetball, but instead of having a racket, you have your hand. It's like wall-ball, if you've ever played that. we had a handful of people who were actually good at it, but when it came to the elimination round most of us were out fairly quick. Again, my "team" beat the other guys. At this point I'd like to point out that the win/lose divide was all done in good humor and no one was upset or angry over the game ends because we were all really, really, really, bad at all the games, and knew it.
     Last, but not least, was Irish dancing, which felt right to me. At my home school I swing dance and know some contra dancing, so traditional Irish dancing was actually familiar. Those who know me can guess what I'll be dong this semester. Sports? Nope.
     Teach me how to dance.

     Lunch followed, and the bus ride to Galway was next., along with a quick nap. Once we arrived, rooms were assigned, beds were claimed, showers were had, and American students were lost. Lost how? Trying to find a restaurant in the city center we all had vouchers for . . . the fish and chips shop, who's name I cannot spell, was where the American students trickled in in 2's and 4's. The chips (french fries) were amazing! Cooked in a beer batter, I later that night joked that they were my "pregame". So yummy.
     Ireland has a habit of closing up the shops around 7pm or so on week nights, so my group of 4 strolled around a bit until we found The King's Head, as recommended by our Galway contact who said, "When I mention The King's Head, I'm not saying go out and get drunk on your first night here. But it is New Years and if you want to drink, it is a place past students have all highly recommended," by which she meant, "Here's a pub to check out since you're all new. Have fun!"
     We did. It took some of the American students a while to warm up, but there were some French students and Irish students there to help. The demographic of the pub was a younger crowd, and the DJ played great music, some familiar and some not. To help welcome in the new year there was a live band (genre rock) and so many people there was little room to move. For my part, I danced with the French guys and a few Irish ones, which surprised some of my fellow Americans, I think. Note that I'm a swing dancer, I love dancing lindy and west/east coast swing, but I also know some Latin dance, bal, and blues -- which are the "closer" dances meant for small and packed spaces. I'm also comfortable dancing with strangers, thanks to my experience through my college Swing Dance Club, so special shout out to them, you all are awesome!
     The night ended with a 10 second count down, kisses, Sláinte (cheers), and more music. I would've liked to stay a bit longer, but most of us were exhausted from the day and needed sleep -- including me. We dug our coats, purses and scarves out of the pile and left the pub in groups of 2's through 6's. My group of 6 got lost briefly, but only because we thought we knew of a short-cut that didn't exist. So. We all made it back eventually with good cheer, and rang in the New Year with the luck of the Irish.
     Sláinte, and welcome to the year 2013!

♥C