"Raise and Give" Week

    "Raise and Give" Week, also known as RAG Week, is notorious here in Galway for excessive partying, drinking, and anti-socialism (as in "against being social" vs. "not being a social person"). I'll be the first to say this is not my preferred type of "College Week." However, I knew I had to go out and see what all the hullabaloo was about.
     Monday night, we stayed in. Mostly to get a feel for how the week was going to go. At our apartment complex, security guards stood outside the gates to check key cards because only residents were allowed in, to theoretically minimize the rowdiness. And to ensure the right for peaceful occupation by current residents.
     Tuesday morning . . . campus was quiet. Sure, classes were still in session; none were cancelled due to the diminished class size. One of my lecturers spoke about the tradition of RAG week when she was a student at NUIG, and lamented about what the week symbolizes now. But I'll get to that later. In contemporary times, Tuesday is also Donegal Tuesday and the drinking starts pretty early in the day (not as early as Tequila Sunrise in Flagstaff, but you get the idea). So, we went to an apartment that night to hang out and get ready before going to a pub. Played some games, met some new people - great craic. Then, in a group of 7 or so, we went into town. Originally, we were going to go to King's Head but it was full, so we went to Quays which is a favorite of ours. It was also surprisingly quiet - you could actually move around without much trouble, and hear the music and dance a bit if you wanted.

Where then were all the people?

 

     Supermac's. We saw this on our walk home and solved the question. They were all gathered outside Supermac's.  Though we planned to keep walking (it was late after all) we stopped to take in the sight. Then someone started climbing up a flagpole, so we waited and watched. He made it much further than we thought he could, but once he inevitably slid back down, he was escorted away by four Garda. I think there might be a video on YouTube . . . yep, first thing to pop up, though I believe this clip is later in the evening after we were all home, and I think THIS guy actually made it to the top. . .

     Wednesday is reportedly one of the craziest nights to go out. Luckily, I caught a cold so stayed in and drank tea all night instead.

     Thursday was much the same. Throat was sore, nose was runny, and the highlight of my day was my Chai Tea Latte from Starbucks. I also skipped fencing on Thursday - that's how awful I felt.

     Friday I felt much better by the evening, but everyone had left for the weekend. Again, I had a quiet night, which is reportedly abnormal during RAG week. My sister for example, got little sleep (if any) each night because of the parties. And no, not any she went to - they were in the apartments surrounding hers. She said that she was able to handle it a few nights a week, but all the time? No way.

But RAG Week didn't use to be this way.

 



      The lecturer of my archaeology class feels quite strongly about how RAG Week should be. Not to say that nobody else cares, but she was especially passionate about it. In 1997, she graduated from NUIG, and back then RAG Week was a week fund raising, donations, competitions and games. Students still went to their lectures and participated in the activities between classes, and the money raised was given back to the community. Back then, students still had good craic, but over the years it spiraled out into the city until the social aspect dominated - not the charity work.

 

The following information is pulled from NUIG's Student Union.

 



     In 2011, Class Representatives Passed a proposal to replace RAG Week. The Student Union received a number of concessions from the University President to replace RAG Week, including

• Support for a one-day concert/festival to replace Rag Week
• An extra €60,000 a year contribution to the Student Assistance Fund (SAF), which is used to help students who are at risk of dropping out due to financial hardship. This would almost triple the University's current contribution to this fund and keep an estimated 60 to 75 students in college each year who otherwise would have had to drop out. Compare this figure to the €22,000 raised for charity through Rag Week last year.
• A guarantee not to introduce charges at the Student Health Unit for visiting a doctor or nurse. This would ensure this heavily-used service remains free for students in future years.
• *I am personally thankful for this one, considering my allergic reaction back in January*
• The abolition of the current €2 Kingfisher charge for members of University sports clubs, who are not members of the Kingfisher gym, when they need to use the facilities there for club training.
• *Again, benefits me because of fencing*
• The provision of a number of prominent, permanent SU notice boards around campus. Not a big deal, but still good.

     Note that the proposal was passed back in 2011, which is why last years RAG Week got so out of hand - it was banned. While authorities and the school "allowed" an unofficial RAG Week this year, it is not a school or city sanctioned event. Galway RAG Week 2013 was more tame than previous years and though fun, held little of the glamour and good will of years gone by.
     Yesterday (once everyone was back in class after the events of last week), our lecturer began her class entreating students to think about the past year when RAG Week was something to be proud of, to boast about, not a week of hangovers. I personally think boat races, competitions, and games to raise money for charity sounds like more fun than discovering a twisted ankle or bad headache in the morning.
     But that's just me.

♥C

 

P.S.  In order to not be a complete Debbie Downer and/or hypocrite, I have to admit: The Irish student population KNOWS how to throw a party! Woo!



Killarney and Candy

     We left Friday morning just after 10am for Killarney, Co. Kerry. The bus my group boarded stopped in Limerick to pick up more American students, and our Weekend Coordinator shared a few limericks with us. Limericks, for those who are rusty on their poetic forms, are 5-line poems, with the rhyme scheme AABBA, and usually involve a character and an event/occupation. They're humorous and can be funny, bawdy, dirty, clean, you name it! Limerick also earned the reputation of "stab city" a few years ago, which is only interesting because A.) the media blew it out of proportion and B.) by American standards, Limerick's criminal activity is minimal. Also, when asked what we thought of first when we heard the word "Limerick" we replied first stab city, then the poetry.
     After we collected the remainder of our group, we departed for Muckross House in Killarney. Unfortunately, we were unable to take photographs inside the mansion, but the grounds outside were fair play. The house is beautiful though, and was luckily donated after the last owner passed away, in her memory. If you ever get out to Killarney, I recommend checking it out if you like history and old buildings.
     If you prefer the outdoors, the gardens and lakes are beyond beautiful. We (and when I say we, I mean a core group of 7 of us) got "lost" in a maze on top of a hill. If we were destined to stumble upon the Otherworld, that would've been the place. However, we just ended up getting in the way of some children running along the paths.
     Eventually, we made our way back in to town, and checked into Neptune's Hostel. Hostels are great if you have a large group and can be reasonably sure you're sharing a room with people you know, but if you plan to travel on your own, a hotel may be safer and more comfortable. The shower I took there Saturday night was among the most awkward experiences of my life. Like the sink faucets you press down on to run water, this shower would only run for about 30 seconds before turning off. It also went from freezing cold to scalding hot, and had no temperature control.
     We'll leave it at "it was an experience."
     The next morning, we left for the Gap of Dunloe and when we arrived, horse-drawn jaunty-carts were ready for us to board - 4 to a cart. The name of our guide was Jury, and our horse was named Starry. She is 22 years old, and had one baby (who passed us) in our caravan. Leg one of our journey lasted about 1.5 hours, and between the striking mountains and deep lakes, we felt like someone placed us in Lord of the Rings or something. Also, it rained the entire day.
     By lunch, we were ready to enjoy a nice cup of tea somewhere warm and dry. Somewhere inside. So of course, we had a picnic lunch outside . . . but at least we were covered under the patio. And we did get our tea, before we embarked on the last leg of the trip - on 12-passenger boats across the lakes. I think that everyone who took pictures that day commented on how their film didn't do Ireland justice. I can only imagine how beautiful the trip would've been had the weather been nice. I feel it's important to note that usually the horse and boat trips don't begin until the middle or end of March, so it's kind of our own fault for going so early in the year. Luckily, we had tarps to keep off the majority of the rain.
     At least, our group did. My sister ended up on a different boat than me, so her jeans were soaked. To keep warm while we waited for the bus to show up, a handful of students (including myself) walked around the ruins of a castle on the lake shore. There were canon reproductions, and intact stairs and doorways, so we just messed around and took silly photos. Most importantly, we kept warm!
     By then, it was about 4pm. We returned to the hostel where most of us promptly took a nap, only to be roused for dinner at 6:45pm. After we ate, we went out to a few pubs, but I don't believe any one had much - mostly we were just tired. Being the good sports, we decided to check out a Traditional Irish Music Pub, which was amazing. One of the girls who came with us (I don't know her too well) requested a song, and then was invited to play a song and sing, which was pretty cool. It was her first time for a live audience and the nerves got to her, but most every one was still impressed with her effort.
     The next morning got off to a slow start. By this point we were all exhausted (did I mention the pillows were thin and the beds rock hard? No? Well, they are). The last thing we did in Killarney was visit a candy shop and meet a consummate salesman who made a bundle off of us that day. He was great fun to talk to - and the homemade bonbons were delicious! That's what I call a win-win.
     Yet, however good the homemade candies are, they can never compare to receiving a care package from my Mom and Dad. Which was delivered right after I left on Friday.
     I think I ate the entire box of Samoas in about 4 hours. Totally worth it. So, thank you Mom and Dad! You are the best - love you!

     Thus ends the trip to Co. Kerry. This week is Rag Week in Galway, so I imagine you'll hear from me later in the week.

♥C

    
    

2 Joyces and a Covert Cupid

     For the last few weeks, I, along with a few hundred other students, have been studying James Joyce's Ulysses, and how it fits in the realm of modern Irish literature. Recently, the theme of cities functioning as independent characters has been prevalent both in my classes and day-to-day living. Physical buildings, natural landmarks and the pulse all flow into the feel of a city. In my second post, I speak of Dublin and trying to assimilate the newness of the city with my background. So here's the thing you gotta know: Dublin = a Character, not a Place.
     Galway likewise has a distinct personality.
     In one of my first archaeology lectures, the professor was trying to explain how artifacts travel world-wide, which is why we may see a concentration of an item in one area, but the further we move from the origin, the fewer items are in that area. To illustrate his point in a contemporary scenario, he used the example of a Claddagh ring, which supposedly originated in Galway.
     "If every Claddagh ring on earth, was represented on this map by a red dot," he said, "then you would see the highest concentration in Galway, with the rest dispersed. The further away you are, the fewer of this symbol you would see. Here in Galway, everyone recognizes the Claddagh, but say you're in China. Maybe someone would see it and point it out, maybe not. Maybe if you meet another Irishman, they'll ask you about Galway."
     Okay, okay, that's a paraphrase, but the idea is there. The Claddagh is uniquely Galway in its history and symbolism; hands for friendship, heart for love, and crown for loyalty. Many stories surround the ring's history, but its commonly accepted that it belongs to Galway. Also, the man credited for its creation is Richard Joyce. Just some trivia for you, in case you ever need to list off Irishmen with the last name of "Joyce". Apart from that, Galway's history is more romantic and/or romanticized than you would expect - which is surprisingly convenient for my purposes today, since Valentine's Day is on Thursday! 
     Thankfully, Galway isn't quite the Hallmark Holiday that we have in the US. Sure, there are cards, teddy bears, and chocolate, but the marketing is "tamer" here . . . generally. However, NUIG has events advertised for the students that will take place Thursday. The Film Society will be showing Magic Mike and . . . providing free condoms for students. BEFORE I get backlash for typing that, I'll point out that every single college I have been to, or have friends at, promote safe sex. I mention this for several reasons. First, to point out that college students, staff, and organizations generally function the same way - international and domestic, at least where I've traveled. Second, the fact that it always comes up during the second week in February should be noted, wherever people happen to be in the world . . .
     Which brings me back to college life at NUI in Galway. My Thursday night will be rather tame, I think, and I'm perfectly happy with that. My plans for Valentine's Day begin with a date Wednesday night, and on Thursday I'm going out with my friends to a movie of some sort, after we exchange "Covert Cupid" candy (it's like Secret Santa, if anyone needs ideas). Might go out in the evening and enjoy more of  Galway, but we shall see.
     I love my classes (and clearly I go to them, mom) but if I was interested in JUST earning good marks, I wouldn't have made the effort to travel, now would I? Every day I get to know Galway and her people better, which is truly a gift.
     Lots of love this Valentine's Day everyone! I hope to tell you about my weekend trip to Kerry next time!

♥C

Connemara

     Spoiler alert! This post deals with our weekend trip to Connemara to see the sights and is pretty short.
     As noted, Ireland is both beautiful and part-of-the-world-wide-recession-like-everybody-else-so-we-shouldn't-romanticize-it, but its hard not to when you get out into the country. The main attractions for this particular weekend jaunt included Kylemore Abbey, a Mini Gothic Church, and our bus driver.
     Yes, our bus driver. I feel awful because I can't remember his name. He was among the most knowledgeable and entertaining of our drivers so far. Going through smaller cities outside of Galway, he would give a little history of each. One of them had the iconic bridge from "The Quiet Man," while another seemed very modern and new. Sadly, the newness of this one city is shadowed by the recession and it was "terrible bad" when the housing bubble burst. Sounds familiar for those of you back home, doesn't it?
     But, we were quickly through the town and out onto the bog lands. Most people think of Ireland as being green everywhere, all the time. Before I left, my dad and I were looking at Galway on his smart phone, and noticed that some of the areas were red, instead of green. This confused us. On the one side, we had little green pastures with their little stone fences, and on the other, rusty red fields. So, Dad, those red expanses? They're bogs. The rust color comes from the decomposing plants (peat) that only semi-fertilize the ground, and the little flowers that do bloom get their nutrients from catching bugs.
     Because of the bog land's nature, the roads are often in need of repair due to the uneven ground. Right after one particularly nasty pot-hole, our driver pointed out a statue on the side of the road. It was of  a large man kneeling at the edge of a lough, shrouded by his dramatic cloak. This massive statue must mark an important event, right? Nope. The lad who commissioned the statue erected it (according to legend) to get tourists to stop, walk across the street, and have an ice cream at his shop. Quite ingenious. The words below the statue say "On this spot, nothing has happened."
      Soon after, we made it to Kylemore Abbey (which only became an Abbey relatively recently -1923). I encourage you to check it out, the history is something else: http://www.kylemoreabbeytourism.ie/things-to-do-in-ireland/story-of-kylemore/. Keeping in mind, this IS a tourist website, so they'll draw you in any way they can ;). Probably my two favorite tid-bits about the Abbey revolve around Margaret Henry. First, she was so in love with the land, her husband purchased it as a "romantic gift" and built her a castle. Sadly, she would not get the chance to enjoy her fairytale castle before dying of dysentery while on vacation in Egypt. And second, she had 9 children by the age of 45. Random, but true.
     Last, we looked at The Mini Cathedral, or the Neo-Gothic Church, which was built as a memorial to Margaret. Inside, marble from the four provinces of Ireland are displayed: green from Connemara, rose from Cork, black from Kilkenny, and grey from Armagh. A stained glass window depicts the  5 graces, and angels guard the Church, rather than gargoyles. It's absolutely beautiful. So vibrant for such a morbid end.
     Also vibrant was the day. At least, for the 30 minutes it was sunny and warm. The rest of the time it hailed. Or rained. At one point, we thought it was misty over the lough, but it turned out to just be hail. Again.
     Altogether, though, the day was great - saw more of the country, learned some new stories, and didn't die in a sinkhole out in a bog. Because that does happen. For real. Our bus driver got caught in one back in his youth . . . "luckily my mates actually liked me so pulled me out."

♥C