Sunday, March 21, 2010

St. Patrick's Day

The Legend: Patrick was once a slave in Ireland, but he ran away. He was later converted to Christianity. At night, he would dream that the people of Ireland were calling him back. Convinced that God was speaking to him, he returned to Ireland to convert all of the unbelievers to Christianity. The devil was so angry at Patrick that he threw tons of snakes at him. Patrick thrust his staff into the ground and all the snakes fell through the hole it created. That is why there are no snakes in Ireland.

The reality: St. Patrick's Day is a national holiday in Ireland, and lots of parades are held. The biggest is in Dublin. Everyone seems to wear some type of green, including children dressed up as little dragons. I saw everything from green viking hats to green cowboy hats to green Indian headdresses. People lined the streets and climbed on top of every conceivable object to get a good view of the parade, which started off with a stiletto heels race. I cheered for the man in drag in stilettos. He pulled them off rather well.

The parade had little to do with Ireland and a lot to do with colors of every sort. It had a circus, at least four marching bands (including one from North Carolina), giant bugs that snorted smoke, African drummers, dancers of all ages, an Indian prince, an African queen, and every type of facepaint imaginable.

After the parade, I decided to head into McDonald's for a shamrock shake. You know it's bad when McDonald's has to have security. The top two floors were guarded-only customers with food could enter. There were about three hundred people crammed into a one hundred people floor waiting for their food. Good times.

To complete the day, we took a tour of the Guinness factory. I learned everything I could possibly want to know about the brewing process, and discovered there are no samples of Guinness that I actually like. Although, Guinness beer bread is tasty. Real tasty. Made me miss the beer brats from home.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Belfast

Belfast is a city of two viewpoints: Irish and British.

Belfast even feels like a different world from the rest of Ireland. You move from the rolling hills and greenery to a mini-London, complete with a leaning clocktower named after a king and dozens of double-decker buses. Victorian architecture pervades the entire city.

Belfast is where many of issues between the nationalists and loyalists took root. Political murals are all over the city, as are monuments to those who lost their lives in the "troubles." Americans get to see the familiar face of Frederick Douglass on one of the main nationalist walls. The peace wall still exists in Belfast as well. This divided those with the Irish viewpoint from those with the British. It is a fittingly ugly wall that is apparently taller in some places than the Berlin wall was.
On one side of the wall you will see the Irish flag flying, while the other has the Union Jack. Our tourguide was quick to assure us that the "troubles" were long over and it was not about Catholicism or Lutheranism, but about the predujiced treatment in terms of employment and housing. One of the hotels in Belfast has been bombed 42 times because of the "troubles" and WWII.

Belfast was also home to one of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis. It has a very cool monument to him standing next to a wardrobe. That was one of the highlights of my trip.

Now that I've bored you with a history lesson, this is what I learned: I am completely ignorant when it comes to European history, and it is way more effective to learn it while you are in the cities where such things take place. Second lesson: I am so thankful to live in a country where different viewpoints are for the most part respected, and the chance of being bombed by your neighbor is low.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Burren

The Burren is a huge region in West Ireland. "Burren" literally means "rocky place." It does not disappoint. When Cromwell came with his troops into Ireland, all of those who didn't bend the knee were banished to the Burren. Cromwell is reported to have said it was a god-forsaken land where there weren't even enough trees to hang people. Charming character.

The Burren is also where many died from the potato famine, because they were too poor to imigrate. Our tour guide informed us that there was actually enough food in Ireland to feed everyone during the Famine, but the English refused to distribute food into the poverty stricken areas like the Burren, so thousands died.

Although the region does not have the happiest history, it has its own beauty. Walking can be treacherous, and I cannot imagine trying to farm, but during the summer months flowers bloom all over. The area is actually protected by the government so floral shops do not come in and steal all of the flowers.

While farming is difficult, raising cattle is still popular in the region. Being a Wisconsinite, I have seen my fair share of cows, but those on the burren are the shaggiest I have ever seen, and wary of strangers.

The Burren affords one of the most beautiful views of the ocean, and the waves crashing up in the sunlight made a huge rainbow. It was a picturesque trip.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Irish Sports

Every region has its own sports obsessions, and Ireland is no different. Wisconsin has football. Ireland has soccer (and yes, they actually call it soccer), hurling, and rugby.

I decided to go to one of these rugby matches and see what the fuss was about. Luckily, there were some friendly Irish students in back of me to explain what was going on. Unluckily, by the end of the match they were incoherent due to the presense of a bottle of Huzzar vodka. This will be from the perspective of a novice of the game.

Rugby is very similar to football, with some very noticable exceptions. First: The clock never stops running. There are no such things as time outs. Second: While you can run forwards, you can only toss the ball backwards. Third: Feel free to kick the ball to your opponents in hopes of getting in farther down the field. Fourth: When the ball is thrown in from the sidelines, throw your teammate up like a cheerleader so they can catch it.

Rugby is rough! Normally players run at their opponents knowing they are going to get tackled. After you are tackled, you can pass the ball off to your teammates. No penalty exists for going for someone's face, and jerseys get close to ripped off. When players are injured, the game keeps going. They are just taken to the side of the field with the least amount of players.

To me, it looked like a huge bar brawl. While no liquor is on the field (that I know of), the fans make up for it. The concession stands sell Guinness, Heineken, hot whiskey, Baileys, and tea and chips for those of us who don't want any liquor.

In summary: backward throwing, cheerleading toss, bloody faces, running clock, happy fans.