November 2005 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2005 by eanderson06

It’s hard to believe that it’s already time to write this first reflection. It seems as though I have only just arrived. My first days in Dublin were largely occupied with sleeping, trying to set up house, and answering all of the profound, meaningful questions that moving into a new home in a foreign country inspires. You know, questions like, “Is it possible to make scrambled eggs in a microwave and eat them without any silverware?” Since then, I have settled in much more.

I am greatly enamoured of the Irish School of Ecumenics, where everyone has been unbelievably friendly and welcoming, from the first day when I showedup — lost, unexpected, and completely drenched — on their doorstep and they took me in and gave me tea and cookies . The system here allows us to sit in on as many courses as we like, and to choose next semester which ones we want to be assessed on. Turning me loose and allowing me to take as many courses as I like is a somewhat dangerous enterprise, but as it stands now I am taking all of the following classes this term: Authority, Tradition and Experience; Judaism and Jewish-Christian Relations; Conflict and Peace in Northern Ireland; Sociology and Politics of Ecumenism; Religious Anti-Modernism; Conflict Resolution and Non-Violence; Religion and American Foreign Policy; Ethics and International Affairs, and World Christianity and Inter-religious Dialogue. I am also taking New Testament Greek with a group of students from the Church of Ireland Theological College.

One might think that this would leave me with little time for anything else, but this has absolutely not been the case. Once I recovered from the shock of not having an Internet connection in my room, I realized that breaking my Internet addiction has left me with incredible amounts of time that would not previously have existed in my schedule! All of us Dublin Mitchells have developed our own haunts around the city, although mine are perhaps more unusual. No bars or pubs or clubs for me, alas… Instead, I keep returning to places such as the Chester Beatty Library with its collection of beautiful, ancient and medieval religious books. Whenever I see them there in their glass cases, I always feel this urge to kneel down and kiss the glass and venerate them. I tell myself that this is because they are religious texts, but actually, I think it’s because I really am that much of a nerd…

And there have been so many churches to visit, and I know that there remain many more to discover. Somewhat to my surprise, I have discovered that I am not (quite) the only Anglo-Catholic in Ireland, although I’ve also learned that mentioning that I think there are seven sacraments and hope to become a nun is a good way to distress my fellow Anglicans here… But most people have been remarkably indulgent of what probably seem my rather peculiar religious eccentricities, and so I go to mass eucharist with the Anglicans and things like rosary and benediction with the Roman Catholics, and it mostly seems to work out fine. I am especially indebted to the priests who have helped me try to navigate and negotiate my religious identity here in Ireland, especially Fr. Kevin Moroney, Fr. Gervase Taratara, and Fr. Patrick Roe. But every time someone asks me whether I am Protestant or Catholic (a natural question to ask a theology student), I always feel like I should take a deep breath and say, “Well…you see, there was this thing called the Oxford Movement back in the 19th century and…”

There have also been many wonderful opportunities to attend lectures outside of class, the most exciting for me has been going to hear N.T. Wright speak at Maynooth. (I had been assured by many people that it was impossible to get lost in Maynooth. I, however, seem to have talent for doing the impossible, because I managed to get thoroughly lost no less than 5 times within a 40 minute period. Many thanks to all of the strangers who dropped everything they were doing and managed to get me where I needed to be, even if it meant walking me there themselves…!:

I’ve been making friends at both the School of Ecumenics and the Church of Ireland Theological College, and I have also befriended the stray cat who seems to live on the Trinity campus, and whom I have named Mel (after the Irish saint and companion of St. Patrick). Although I haven’t had much opportunity to travel yet, I am planning a weekend in Paris later on this month, and in December I will be going to visit monasteries in Bulgaria, Macedonia and Albania, thanks to the generous travel bursary that we have been given. So, on the whole, things are really going wonderfully, and I am optimistic about what the months ahead have in store.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by kmohan05

With a pre-approved extension from Dell, I write this journal entry late, in the hope that it will provide an insight into my adventures and misadventures of late. To say that these past months have been formative would be an understatement – they have been full of intense experiences, both brief and extensive, which, I believe, have contributed greatly to the development of my character.

I put my pants on backwards yesterday. I think this is important to note, since the rest of this update is quite serious, and I didn’t want to give the erroneous impression that amidst all my self-reflection, I’ve become any less clumsy or take life any more seriously.

Unlike many of the other listed journal entries, this is not a goodbye. I have decided to exercise my right to stay in Ireland one year, so at the time of this writing, I still have a good four months ahead of me. There is much to do here – I’ve finally sunk my teeth into a couple of projects which I am furiously pushing myself to complete.

I’d like to work events a little backwards. The reason I asked for an extension from Dell was because I was climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro on the day our final entry was due.

I asked our Tanzanian guide what he thought about people climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. He said that although he appreciates the business the mountain provides the local community, he quite frankly thinks foreign tourists are lunatics. Who in their right mind, he asked, flies across the world to subject themselves to multiple muscle pains, colds, lack of sleep, more colds, dry skin, freezing weather, sunburn, thin air, altitude sickness, more altitude sickness, the worst altitude sickness, lack of toilet paper, squatting, diarrhea, loss of appetite, and finally having to go down the whole mountain after you’ve reached the top? His rhetorical question, combined with multiple hand movements (mainly ones that signaled “these tourists are CRAZY”) and a rare I-will-tell-the-truth-even-if-you-are-a-tourist attitude, left me in pain from laughing so hard.

After climbing the mountain, the only response I can offer is, he’s right. But to borrow from the Irish irony: it’s a mad, mad world, and we are all part of it, so if I get a chance to scale Everest or K2, I’m going.

Kilimanjaro is beautiful. I highly recommend that anyone and everyone (the youngest person to climb the mountain was 13 – the oldest 80) climb the mountain, even if they don’t reach the top. Actually, save the view at the top, the most beautiful part of the mountain is the rain forest at the bottom. The multiple lagoons with the peaceful sounds of the animals alone make the trip worthwhile. It truly is a special place, and more power to the Tanzanians who go out of their way to preserve the mountain for future generations. Make sure you get good guides though – ours were fantastic, and without them, we would have never made it to the top. After descending Kilimanjaro, I have come to value certain things (like breathing) that I had taken for granted.

The Kilimanjaro climb provided me ample time to think, and I devoted long hours to issues that have been bothering me for some time. The main one is pitting the desire to make money (private sector) against the desire to do non-profit/government work. I am still not sure which path to follow – but if nothing else, Kilimanjaro gave me time to build up arguments on both sides. On the one hand, there is a need to provide for family, which can be more fruitfully done in the private sector than in the public sector (mostly, not always). On the other hand, there are some serious problems in the public sector that need to be solved. I believe that we can do good through business, that the market is the source of most innovation, that incentives can push us to achieve great things to better humanity. I also believe that there are many issues that need to be solved, and that either the market is uninterested in solving these problems (say, solving malaria in poverty-stricken Africa) or that when the market does become interested, it will be too late (for example, in trying to solve rapid depletion of the world’s water resources). The worst assumption about human innovation is to believe it will always work. The most pessimistic supposition to make in the non-profit sector is that business is evil, solely profit driven and uninterested in social problems. It’s funny how walking up a mountain, slightly hallucinating thanks to the altitude, can help you examine clearly the issues that bother you.

Kilimanjaro taught me two things.

One: Human beings have an incredible capacity for work, one that is rarely exercised, and whose true nature belies our often sedentary existence. On one day of our climb, we hiked for almost 16 hours, the vast majority of it at a height of over 4700 meters. I estimate that I lost anywhere from 5-8 pounds on that day alone, as my climb was coupled with an absence of hunger and a consistent loss of water. What is strange is that last day I probably could have done 16 hours more, had I been pushed. I have a much better understanding of my physical limits now, and I would like to think that my mental tolerance for physical exertion and will power to achieve a goal have both grown from this experience.

Two: Having a long-term goal makes navigating short-term challenges less difficult. It is much easier to climb the mountain when you know you are trying to reach the top (and much, much, easier when you can gauge approximately how long it will take to get there). It is easy to get frustrated with day to day living when you have no greater purpose in mind. I preferred the ‘actively pursuing’ mentality of Kilimanjaro climbing (reminiscent of years at Duke) to the ‘passively reacting’ mentality I’ve felt in Ireland until recently.

Yet, it would be unfair to say that my only powerful experiences have been outside of Ireland. Day to day living has become much more comfortable and exciting, because Dublin is my city now, and will permanently reside among the places I can call home. I remember standing at the entrance of Trinity College with a friend, scowling at the waves of tourists who took multiple pictures of the opening greens, grumbling about the visitors who were making Ireland less Irish.

It was a goofy moment.

I recently spoke to a gardener who absolutely loves his job. He admitted that he didn’t make a lot of money, but he thought he had the best job in the world. He said he was getting paid for his hobby. I know this seems like a random thought – but it segues into something I’ve been wrangling with lately. An end goal is important for focusing one’s life – but should the achievement of that goal come at the expense of gathering different experiences along the way? I think about this a lot as I sit in front of a computer often and for great lengths of time. No answers to this question yet.

Amidst the flurry of completing my exams for the second semester, I’ve still found time to continue to explore Ireland. A visit to Limerick and a picturesque Abbey reminded me (again) that Dublin is almost a separate Ireland from Ireland. I had some amazing conversations with the monks about the similarities between religions. One monk had traveled extensively in India – his knowledge of Hinduism made me feel quite uneducated. I’ve observed that while everyone says Ireland is a Catholic country, I know nobody who goes to Church. Again, I think this is a Dublin phenomenon. Every time I leave Dublin, I meet the pious, peaceful people living in the countryside who live up to all the stereotypes of Ireland.

Another interesting phenomenon I’ve encountered in Ireland and Europe is the different concept of friendship. In America, it seems to me, we have a lot of friends. In Ireland, you have a few friends, but the friends you have are for life. This was something I was educated about by the Alliance, but something I didn’t understand until I got here. There’s a higher bar for friendship – but once you pass it, you build incredibly strong relationships that, I honestly feel, will last forever.

Perhaps what has been changing me most are Conversations. I use a capital form of this word merely because I’ve engaged in multiple in-depth conversations that continuously force me to expand my thought processes. I’ve been speaking with the Deputy Chief of Mission at the US embassy, Jonathon Benton, about the American Foreign Service, and have been amazed by his experiences. As a patriot with a desire to build international bridges and work in human rights, I’m drawn to the Foreign Service. Our conversations have helped me understand more clearly the reality of working for the government, and for that I am grateful. I recently spoke with an Irish thriller writer, Brian Gallagher, and gained a better understanding of the mechanics of putting together a thriller. These conversations have given me a desire to speak with successful people in any field – I’ve rediscovered a curiosity in everything.

With exams behind me, it’s time to start chasing after some projects I’ve been wanting to do for a long time. Firstly, I’ve committed to an internship with the Fatima Regeneration Board, and it is already promising to be a challenging endeavor. Fatima is one of the poorest communities in Dublin, one of the drug communities on the south side. Fatima, the local community, and the government have put together an amazing amount of resources to establish an outreach program. My specific task is to try and devise a business plan that uses nine donated computers with broadband Internet connection to enhance the lifestyle of the community – whether it be through providing the local community skills for employment or simply helping the children navigate their way around the Internet. The project is really making me exercise my creative skills, and a couple of visits to Fatima have already drilled home the importance of the work.

My plans for the immediate future are many and varied: I am off to Oxford to see the famous university, am going on a bike trip of Ireland, Mom is coming to visit, U2 concert, up to Belfast for the final Mitchell gathering (gulp….ok, so it is getting close to over here), SEE EUROPE (which strangely, I have barely done), a jaunt to Edinborough specifically to visit new friends, a bout with falconry (right – this is one of those things that keeps getting cancelled) and one major adventure somewhere around the world. I’m thinking of going scuba diving in the Red Sea in Egypt, or in Thailand. The goal (of course) is to: 1) get platinum status on American Airlines; 2) get more passport pages; and 3) get my scuba diving license. I see no reason why these goals have to be incompatible, and indeed, sincerely hope that they are not.

As this is my final entry, I would like to thank the US-Ireland Alliance. I will get to say thank you to Trina, Dell, and Kathleen in person, but to all the people who have supported the program but who I have never met – I am grateful and hope that someday I can be of some service. As I have hoped to describe in this entry, Ireland is changing me in all the right ways, and I can only hope that it will continue to do so in the upcoming months.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by cromero05

It seems incredible to believe that the school year is over. Classes ended a week ago and although most students are still in the midst of exams and papers, many of my classmates will be taking off shortly after finishing their work in a matter of a week. It’s a period of transition, or at least of contemplating transitioning. In the midst of trying to finish my final paper and garner more time to work on my dissertation, my thoughts also start to drift towards finding a job, thinking about where I’ll settle when I get back to the U.S., and generally thinking about the future of returning back from Northern Ireland. I’m definitely not ready to leave but I don’t think I’ll ever feel ready.

I went home for spring break in April, but took a second trip to London first. London has surprisingly become my favourite city in Europe, I think. It’s got the same cosmopolitan exciting feel of NYC, but just a slight bit of cultural difference to make it distinct. Going back home to the U.S. though was also a comforting reminder of all things familiar. Going to NYC and seeing the vibrancy of the city and the 24 hour restaurants, driving my car again, and going back to the immense Princeton library with renewed access to free printing and one of the most enormous collections of books in the world reminded me also of all the things I’ve dearly missed.

When I arrived back from the U.S., I took a trip to Edinburgh as well. Edinburgh is extremely different from the cities of Ireland or England. Its architecture is stunning and it has the feeling of being taken back in time. A trip to highlands was perfectly beautiful. Yet, one thing I found interesting, especially with my very patriotic tour driver through the highlands, is that the Scottish are immensely proud of their culture and signs demarcating this culture abound. Even in the cosmopolitan centre of Edinburgh, the sound of bagpipes can be heard regularly and the sight of men in tartans is quite common. The references to the English always resonate with a deep sense of history. That’s when I realized even more so how unfortunate it is that historical divisions of culture do not always play out peacefully. In Northern Ireland, this expression of cultural distinctiveness is not yet capable of being carried out with the same sense of history, yet without being tainted by the politics of sectarianism.

Otherwise my time has been spent wrapping up the last few work requirements left of the semester. After my last paper is handed in, I’ll be heading to Finland for a week at the end of May, and June and July will also be full of travels and Mitchell events, so there’s a lot to look forward to in the summer months even if the semester is sadly coming to a close.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by bthibodeaux05

Comme ca va? Ca va? As for me, I am doing great. I just got back from a class field trip in Leuven, Belgium. I think I put on ten pounds. If anyone travels to Leuven, I wholeheartedly recommend the Irish College there. It is a wonderful place to stay and they give you three square meals a day. The greatest part was the chef just came back from 10 years in Cajun Country, USA. Needless to say, he fed my classmates and me very well.

So, this is it. This is the last journal entry of my Mitchell Experience! Honestly, I cannot believe that I am sitting here and penning this entry (I know I say this every time, but I do really mean it). My time in Northern Ireland seems to have fluttered by like the blink of an eye. However, this blink of an eye has left a deep, deep impression on my soul.

The last time that I wrote to you, I promised that I would have a more interesting journal for you to read this time around. Let it never be said that Brandon K. Thibodeaux is not a man of his word. The last two months have been some of the most transforming and interesting of my time here. Thanks to the USIT Travel Stipend, I was able to do two things that I always wanted to do, but never had the ability to. The first trip was a trip to Rome for Holy Week. As a Catholic to experience Easter mass at the Vatican, it was truly an awe-inspiring experience that I shall never forget. The second trip was a trip to the former Eastern block. Some friends from my program and I went to the Czech Republic and then to Poland. While we were in the Czech Republic, we got word that the Pope had died. The next day we were on a train to Krakow, Poland. I will admit that being in Poland at that time was truly a re-affirming experience because as we arrived in Krakow we became part of a student tribute to the Pope. Over 155,000 youths from all over Poland (and with us) the world converged on Krakow for a silent march and prayer service in honor of the life of Pope John Paul II. The experience really demonstrated to me that the Catholic Church is alive and well. That meant a lot to me. The next day, the three of us got on a bus and went to the complex at Oechwitc, more commonly known as Auschwitz.

The complex at Auschwitz is truly a surreal place. I remember someone telling me that you can hear the screams there. I will admit that while I walked at Auschwitz One and Birkenheau, I was truly moved. My friends and I that went to Auschwitz are all studying Peace and Conflict Studies. As students of Peace and Conflict, Auschwitz held a truly special meaning for each of us because it really brought home the point that we must use our knowledge and what we have learned in Northern Ireland to try and ensure that such atrocities never occur again. Walking through the rooms filled with tens of thousands of shoes, thousands of eyeglasses, thousands prosthetic limbs, two tons of human hair, and thousands of pieces of luggage really brought the reality and horror of the Holocaust home to me. While I stood on the train tracks that ran into the death camp at Birkenheau, it truly horrified me to realize that millions of individuals rode on those very tracks to their deaths. I can assure you that what I saw there I will never forget. I honestly believe that everyone should go to Auschwitz at least once in their life because it is truly an experience that haunts you but does make you a more determined person.

This last month has been filled with a great deal of traveling. My class just returned from a week field trip in Brussels, Belgium. While we were in Belgium, we had briefings on the European Union, the European Parliament and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). The week in Belgium was truly icing on the cake because I came away from that with an extremely in depth knowledge and understanding of the European Union. As the European Union continues to grow on the world stage, it will become imperative to understand it and what it means for future peace endeavors in Western Europe. As a history buff and fan of Napoleon, my favorite part of the trip was a little excursion to the battlefield at Waterloo. I had avoided going there before because I did not want to think about Napoleon’s defeat. However, my professors assured me that the way history was told at Waterloo, one gets the impression that Napoleon won the battle. Yet, he decided to go to St. Helena for the good of Europe. Those professors were right. Nowhere at Waterloo did it explicitly say Napoleon lost here. The experience was good because it allowed me to think about the hubris and pride of man. Napoleon once said, “From the ridiculous to the sublime is but a step away!” Waterloo proved that to me and taught me a good lesson that I am still trying to understand. All in all Belgium was great.

As I look back on the Mitchell experience thus far, I am forced to say that it exceeded my wildest dreams and expectations. The people of Derry/Londonderry have opened their homes and their hearts to me. I am a reader at St. Eugene’s Cathedral on Sunday mornings. The congregation has often invited me to lunch with their families or to their homes for tea. I can honestly say the people of Derry/Londonderry really remind me of back home and Southern hospitality. They truly fill the void that exists from not being in home in Henry, Louisiana.

Ever since I got to Northern Ireland, I have been telling all of my friends and mentees back in New Orleans, Lafayette, Baton Rouge and Northern Ireland how wonderful and eye opening the Mitchell experience is. This program has opened my eyes in ways that no other program has. Even my experience with the United States Embassy in Paris did not open my eyes as much as my time in Northern Ireland. The George J. Mitchell Program is truly in a league of its own. While my time here draws to a close, I am really looking forward to the Mitchell bike trek along the western coast of Ireland and the ascent of Mount Brandon. All I can say at this moment is that Northern Ireland has been one of the best things to happen to me. Now, I am off to enjoy my last two months on the Emerald Isle, and the sun is shining!

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by dbuckley05

There’s nothing like having four sets of guests to make two months fly. From taking in the rugged shores of Rathlin Island with Jess, my radiant girlfriend, to tromping through the farmland of Co. Galway with my parents in search of our progenitors, to listening to Rach’s No. 3 with Hoyt and Josie, to driving around the Antrim Coast in a rental with Guru, these past two months have given me a chance to show off the things that I’ve come to love so much about my new home.

One danger of all these guests is that you can start to take all the beauty of this place for granted. Giant’s Causeway can become just another set of cliffs, the Duke of York can become just another pub, and the murals of West Belfast can become just another set of billboards. It’s incredible how quickly each of these has become a consistent part of my life, and humbling how soon they will all be a part of my past. My Belfast clock has now ticked down below two months, a fact that I can see clearly on paper but have yet to accept.

When not exposing guests to the best Ireland has to offer, I’ve kept up my work at the Centre for Contemporary Christianity in Ireland. The name change from the old, ECONI, is now complete, and the new work of the Centre is taking more concrete shape. A good portion of my recent work has been around Renewing Hope, an initiative of church leaders throughout Northern Ireland designed to challenge Christian communities to do their part to transform the increasingly sectarian nature of local public life. To see leaders from across the Christian spectrum unite behind such a positive initiative has been encouraging. The challenge now is to make these voices of peace, reconciliation and, dare one say it today, love heard more clearly in the public square.

Northern Ireland could certainly use a few more of such voices these days. As predicted Northern Ireland’s election season placed even more political power in the hands of hardliners. Ian Paisley’s DUP gutted David Trimble’s UUP on the unionist side, while Mark Durkan and the SDLP fought hard in losing some ground to Sinn Fein in the nationalist community. I have the feeling that Blair would like to devolve government to Northern Ireland as one of his legacies before leaving office, but it is difficult to see compromise emerging between the DUP and Sinn Fein when both have just been rewarded at the polls for their tough negotiating strategies. Things could change, especially if the IRA responds to Adams’ calls to leave the stage for good, but with marching season fast approaching, I think that the next round of Mitchells will likely arrive in Belfast before any compromise takes place.

With so many guests in town, my only chance to travel outside Ireland took me to Edinburgh for a long weekend. I honestly can’t remember a place that surprised me so much with its energy, beauty, and history. A day trip to St. Andrews (no, unfortunately not to play) was icing on the cake. One cautionary note does go to any who may visit Scotland in the near future: do not eat the deep fried pizza. I cannot stress this enough. It is devilishly delicious, but brings with it gastrointestinal consequences far beyond any short-term enjoyment. Enough said.

As I find so often in life, the best memories of these past months are actually some of the least spectacular. Mornings spent wandering through the stalls of St. George’s Market. Afternoons and long evenings of intense sky-contemplation in the Botanic Gardens. One particular Bank Holiday Monday full of bacon and good company. Midnight walks on the beach of Downhill. Grilling burgers in the alleys behind Mt. Charles. The common slices of time that make you realise how at home you have become in a place that not so long ago seemed so foreign.

It is incredible to realise that my Mitchell year is rapidly drawing to a close. As I wrote in the first of these journals, I had little idea of what to expect when I came to Belfast. I knew the facts of the conflict, but this year has hammered home that the facts are only the surface of any society. What I have experienced has been much more powerful. The earthy smells of the fields of North Antrim, the dramatic sight of the murals of Falls and Shankill, the sweet goodness that is a pint of the black stuff, the unmistakable sound of the Belfast brogue, all these have shaped me over these past months. It takes far more than a year to be from a place like Northern Ireland, but after my short time here, I’ve come closer to understanding why this place means so much to those who call it home.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by njohnson05

Strange as this may sound, I had a strong desire to write this last Mitchell journal entry as the shout-out section that ends the liner notes on any given rap album. I don’t know, of course, how much cross-readership there is between those texts and this website, so I dispensed with the idea, realizing that for the uninitiated, it might come across as rather odd. For those of you who may be underexposed to the literary form of the shout-out, it is easily identified by rampant name abbreviation, the liberal use of code and innuendo to evoke past experiences or places, and a complete breakdown of the ability — or perhaps just the will — to spell. Who would identify Kathleen Long as the K-Train, or Trina Vargo as The TV? Would anyone else find a powerful humor in the name ‘Dizell’? Would I come across as hagiographic if I dedicated my work to the Magnificent Twelve? Could I correctly recall the gang names that the class decided on over Indian food in Limerick? Is it appropriate to refer to our benefactors in the familiar, i.e., Philip Lee and his Ping Pong Killaz (big ups for the turkey), my peeps at Jury’s (thanks for the crib), and how could I forget Diageo (keep cookin that barley, dawg)?

So we’ll set that aside, and pretend it never happened. Far more interesting is the exploration of my impulse to speak in this mad, inflated vernacular. Not unlike the completion of a huge recording project, the year that draws to a close was a combination of massive efforts on the part of innumerable people, many of whom I will never get a chance to thank in person. Some of them work behind the scenes and may not even know about their own contribution, much less receive credit for it. Others are simply too distant, too busy, or too important for me to have encountered them thus far. The shout-out is the proper venue to dispense respect and love for those who are unknown to me or to the world, and to recognize their beneficence.

There is another element to this summary of gratitude, which is the extent to which the incalculable exertions of the many underwrite the success of the one — in this case, me. I am the visible product, not unlike the artist who takes credit for an album; behind me are hundreds of enablers, like the invisible sound engineers to whom we owe the music. Because of the power of celebrity in society, the image of the solitary artist and the lone genius has replaced any realistic notion of collective labor; this has its analogue, albeit comparatively small, in the life of the Mitchell Scholar. The work that I have done this year is credited to me, though without the funnel effect of the labor done on my behalf, it would mean very little. I am allowed to claim the fruits of this success — to get my degree, to use the network, and to write another line on my CV — but it doesn’t feel right to do all this without saying somehow, loudly and noticeably, how many more people and interests the accomplishment represents.

Above all, it is important to note that the acknowledgment does not, in this case, indicate the end of anything. Achievements aside, we have formed experiences, memories, and friendships that will last us the rest of our lives. It’s true that May has snuck up on us, and there will be a lot to miss as the 2005 scholars disperse again around the world. The long and hard-fought poker nights will be missed by all the regulars (well, almost all), and my own apartment will feel increasingly empty without the constant traffic of those seeking respite, tea, conversation, dinner, or a comfortable staging ground for a touristic assault on central Dublin. What is most remarkable to me now is that there will be other cities, other apartments, other gatherings, over and over again through the years. We still have so much more to offer each other, and the ‘real’ world lies largely unexplored beyond the confines of the Fellowship Universe.

More than a lot to miss, there is a lot to which we can look forward.

In the immediate future, I am faced with a terrifying schedule of major class work, musical performance, theatrical rehearsal, and my own writings. In June I am placing my life in the hands of Ryan Hanley, who will guide the first great George Mitchell Unauthorized Irish Bike Tour. I am still going to examine the heart of the Midlands when I walk from Dublin to Galway in the summer. I am still going to see U2 play Croke Park for the first time since 1987. I look toward another whole year of fascinating research at Trinity, an exciting job as a tutor in the Disabilities Office of the university, a whole slate of theatrical projects with a new Dublin company, and, if I’m lucky, the occasional social call from the new crop of 2006 Mitchell Scholars for respite, tea, conversation, or dinner in the new apartment.

It’s an exciting outlook from this angle — mid-May, mid-decade, and mid-twenties. If you’re reading this, you probably helped to get me where I am, to this surreal place from which I can see no closed doors. I can never thank you enough. My life is just a dedication, a vast performative thank-you note, that will remain unfinished.

I don’t have any way to finish this entry either, so I’ll leave it a long way from the rap shout-out where I started: with Saigyo, 12th Century haiku master of the late Heian period.

What it is I know not
But with the gratitude
My tears fall

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by rhanley05

My official title as a Mitchell Scholar will be expiring shortly, and with it all those wonderful perks that I have so enjoyed. Yet, as my degree at Trinity will take two years to complete rather than the normal one, this supposed “last Mitchell journal” comes at a time when I am merely warming up for the rest of my stay.

Over the last eight months I have been active in my research (I just returned from investigating my first 14th century castle), traveled throughout Ireland and parts of Europe, and joined as many groups on campus that I could find. Yet I found that there was a void in my existence here. I was missing the hands on volunteering work that was a significant part of my life back in the States. Thanks to a great dinner conversation with Trina, I have since signed up for what has quickly become my favorite distraction from my studies.

In 1994, Paul Newman bought an old castle on an estate about 45 minutes west of Dublin. He turned it into a summer retreat for children who are seriously ill with cancer, now called Barretstown Gang Camp. Barretstown brings in children who otherwise would not be able to go to camp for a week of horse riding, climbing ropes courses, fishing, and other activities of “serious fun.” By signing up to volunteer as a “Cara” the Irish word for friend, I have embraced my job of running around making camp as fun and enjoyable for the children as possible.

The goal of Barretstown is to push these children to successes beyond whatever they thought was possible for themselves, all the while having as many laughs as possible. The most valuable gift I receive at Barretstown is seeing the children emerge from camp with a newly found self confidence that for the first time allows them not to be defined solely by their illness. It is a special transformation to watch.

My time at Barretstown has been a huge success and I anxiously await my return. As it turns out, Barretstown encourages Cara’s to dress up as women in a purple wigs, initiate water fights that soak the children just before bedtime, and pretend to be off balance in canoes before falling into the lake. I reckon this job could be a keeper.

In addition to Barretstown, the rest of my summer should keep me busy. Having been coaxed into believing that I am in fact a trustworthy tour guide, several of the Mitchell’s, including Trina, will be putting their lives in my hands as they follow me for a 10 day bicycling tour along the west coast of Ireland. I just hope we reach our final destination with at least our dignity in tact, if not our bikes as well. After this Tour de Ireland, I anxiously look forward to traveling to Thailand for three weeks. My friend Sven and I will use our underused back muscles to help rebuild a village that has been ravaged by the tsunami disaster.

In this last Mitchell journal, let me say that this experience of living and studying in Ireland has been the opportunity that I will forever wish I could relive. The people that make this program possible, whether visible or behind the scenes, have given me a special gift of which I will always be indebted.

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May 2005 Reflections

Posted on May 1, 2005 by zkcoelius05

The last days of Limerick have ended. I have returned to Minnesota. I look out the window as I write this at a brilliant blue sky. The sun is splashing its effervescent rays on all who pass under it with a wholesomeness akin to the lemonade stands of our youth, the liveliness of a train of ducklings waddling across the lawn and the beauty of a northern Minnesota lake. Needless to say my sojourn caused me to miss the sun a bit. Yet I think my new appreciation of our favorite nuclear reaction also captures the essence of what Limerick has done for me over the last nine months. I find as I have come back to the old in my life- those aspects of value, nostalgia, glory and pain- I see them in a new light so different then ever before.

My experience in Limerick was really unlike any I had ever lived through in that it forced me to stay in situations that I had worked so hard to extricate myself from in the past. I found that in plumbing the depths that there are a lot of very important things to understand below the surface of my whirlwind existence I had never ventured to explore before. Like a car speeding down the Autobahn (some might argue careening is a better word) — the driver always pushing to glean the last ounce of performance and speed from his vehicle — that is suddenly forced to halt at the scene of a accident; there is the initial frustration at not being able to continue; yet after that abates, a chance can be taken-if the wait is long enough-to take stock of the car, check the tires, the plugs, the injectors, the brakes, to look in places impossible to inspect on the move, and sometimes, fortuning being what it is, that stop will reveal something that might forestall the car from getting in its own accident. Limerick was that stop. Whether what I have found in my time there will prevent me from my own pileup down the road, or if the days and weeks seemingly lost will be long regretted, remains to be seen. At this point I find myself looking at the sun- and many other things in my life — not only with the happy reunion of a lost love, but also with a new set of questions and new need to find different answers.

If you are interested in the specifics of my time in Limerick, and not my silly verbose rambling needed to satisfy the online journal deity, please feel free to send me an email at zachcoelius@yahoo.com and I would to happy to bore you to tears with my thoughts.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by rmulcare05

I have a Belarussian passport. It’s not mine, it’s someone else’s, but it’s in my possession. And in case you are wondering why, I will share. One of my classmates in Galway is Belarussian and invited me to visit home. He has lived in Galway for four years, part of a large Russian population there. This would be his first time back to see his parents.

Belarus under President Lukashenka is perhaps, along with Uzbekistan, the least reformed of the former communist bloc countries. Goods are still dispersed based on a queuing rather than a price system. The Bush Administration has been openly hostile to the regime, which is of course supported by Moscow (including talk of union or at least currency union). The merits of U.S. foreign policy are open for debate. But while EU citizens have recently been extended an invitation to enter Belarus, US citizens still need a written invitation directly from a Belarussian, plus a hefty 100+ dollar visa fee.

So thus I ended up on my way to the Belarus Consulate in New York with an invitation in Russian and a Belarussian passport to prove its authenticity. It’s a not so subtle reminder that not all the world is as welcoming as Ireland.

More importantly, going through the exercises to enter Belarus puts a fittingly eye-opening and random exclamation point to my time in Galway, Ireland. Much of this year has brought similar experiences, going places and making plans that were not quite envisioned when applying to the Mitchell in the first place.

On my last two nights in Galway in early May, I spent time with three groups of people, each representative of my time on the island. The first was Michael Gale, fellow Mitchell Scholar in Galway, just on his way back from Japan and Dubai. The second was my roommates in the Niland House in City Centre Galway, a rowdy group that had made a name for itself in the pubs. The third was my classmates, mostly Irish and astonishingly diligent, also out for a good time after finishing exams. How unexpected, that only a few months before coming to Ireland, still immersed in my relative cocoon at Princeton, never would I have thought that such people would be the primary determinants of a year of my life.

My summer plans are set. I’ll be in Paris, France, to write my Masters dissertation on the oil stockpile program of the International Energy Agency. Coincidentally, my girlfriend will be there as well. We have several events in Ireland throughout June, however, so once again Ryanair should prove a godsend.

I’d like to sign off my journal with a very heartfelt thanks to Trina, Dell, and Katherine at the U.S.-Ireland Alliance. I’ve been consistently amazed at the dedication and energy with which they administer the Mitchell program, and their efforts have certainly paid significant dividends in the quality of the experience for the Scholars. I could not have imagined a better postgraduate year.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by mbell05

I’ve been back in America for nearly a week and everything here in Anderson is the same. I’m watching Cosby Show reruns and a copy of Paul Wellstone’s The Conscience of a Liberal rests on the table beside me. Friday was my grandmother’s 85th birthday and my sister’s high school graduation. On Saturday, I went down to Columbia for a state Young Democrats organizational meeting. Sunday brought the Men’s Choir program at church, complete with all of the old standards. With the exception of my ongoing job search and thesis research, I am firmly residing in normalcy. It’s strange; I almost feel like I never went to Ireland.

I thought I would miss it. During my last week in Dublin, after realizing the cost of a flight back to Ireland for the ring ceremony was prohibitive, I attempted to soak up absolutely everything that I loved about the place. Despite invites out from my Irish friends, I usually tried to do this alone so the scones, tea, and intermittent rain would have my full attention. Saying goodbye was a slow and complete process because I do not know when I will be there again. I think I will miss it in a few weeks.

I also suspect that I will eventually see more of Ireland’s imprint on my consciousness: A week does not provide enough distance for honest reflection, and the personal, professional and academic demands since my return have been too great to hurry along the process. But the time to write this journal entry is now. In fact, the deadline has passed. So I won’t venture any further into pseudo-philosophy and false attempts at profoundness – I just have to admit that I’m not ready to deconstruct everything quite yet.

Instead, I will take this final opportunity to thank all of you for your dedication to the Mitchell Scholarship program and I hope the Mitchell will become even more of a community over the years. Before going to Ireland, I had never been to Europe at all. Now, I’ve had the opportunity to see how the cosmopolitan traveling type of Americans live. (I had also never had beans on toast, but my poverty in Ireland brought me to the perfect sustenance for my continuing poverty in law school.)

Hmm… I still don’t know what to make of it. I have not yet untangled my relationship with the Republic. In the end, I know that I will return and I will bring my future family there to show them where I lived. I know that I will take them to Kilmainham Gaol so they can learn about the multifaceted nature of imperialist history around the globe. I will stroll with them down Moore Street, one of the few multiethnic business strips in Dublin (hopefully there will be more than one such street by the time I have kids.) I will bake soda bread for them and instill them with the belief that love, care and solidarity are absolutely essential values in our politics. And with this knowledge I am confident that my Irish experience will be with me, in some form, always.

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May 2005 Reflection

Posted on May 1, 2005 by mgale05

My Nikon 3500 digital camera has been with me through almost everything: college graduation, New Year’s Eve 2004 in New York… everything. She has seen at least a dozen zoos or aquariums and traveled in even dozens more cities around the world. Recently, I returned from an amazing traveling extravaganza that included four continents, starting with travels in Japan with the rest of the Gale family. My brother John, an English teacher, guided us on a tour de force of the island nation. Their society is extremely polite, their technology quite sophisticated, and the people are neither high strung (like Americans) or laid back (like the Irish). I took pictures of the lights of the Akihabara electronics district in Tokyo, the glamourous sites of many shrines and temples including the Golden Pavilion Kinkaku-ji and the Byodoin Temple and its Phoenix Hall, and I even got to see a whale shark at the Osaka Aquarium! I was amazed to experience a culture so developed and “westernized” and yet so extremely unique and to its own.

From there, my Nikon and I went to the great city of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates (UAE). The arid, brown tones and the influence of the Islamic culture in the people, architecture and language made for some fantastic pictures. The city though had a darker side, one where my camera would not be allowed to take any pictures. An associate of a friend, whose vision of “a good time” meant something quite different than mine, was showing me around the city one night. Sparing you the details, what I thought was to be a night of vegetarian dinners with friends and dancing turned into a night at a disco of a prominent international hotel in Bur Dubai. My Nikon triggered the metal detectors at the club’s entrance. I was perplexed at first by the strict security, but we finally got through after I promised not to take any pictures. To my shock, the security was there to protect the predominantly British and American clientele, who frequent the locale looking for exotic women, predominantly brought over from east Africa and the Philippines. The joint was essentially a brothel, table after table of several older, white men surrounded by a personal entourage of younger women of color. Michael “the social activist” starting asking hard questions of the group I came with and the women who approached me. I learned a great deal about the sex trade in Dubai and the Middle East and the culture that had emerged in city’s nightlife. The UAE is a country torn between a burgeoning Anglo-western commercial influence and traditional Muslim values. Non-natives may drink where Muslim natives may not, and the name of the game is shopping, hotels and nightlife. I left the disco soon after and Dubai the next morning with an unresolved picture of a distinct culture in the heart of the world where the great global clash of new-world commercialism is increasingly fighting with the values of older generations and histories of people.

My year in a different heart of the world, the beautiful west of Ireland, has encapsulated a similar picture concerning this global war of values. Aside from my earlier reflections in March on the Irish cultural struggle between European liberalism and everything else, I will leave this island with a vague picture of the psychological war between the old and the new Ireland. The older Ireland that used to gaze and hike the Hill of Tara and spend relatively quiet evenings at the local pub is being replaced by a younger Ireland obsessed with roads, money, and resentful of fourteen years of forced Irish language courses, who also frequent most nights at discos and spend the afternoon at the shop or bar. I am the first to admit that I am over-generalizing, but I stand by the point that the new Ireland, in my opinion, and their values are based more around commercialism, destructive behaviors, and a confusing, new global identity.

But who am I as an American to make such accusations? America has effectively played an intimate role in the generational shift that is occurring in Ireland and really around the world. I have seen many peoples, from Aborigines in Australia to the pastoral communities of West Virginia, embrace and struggle with the values and meanings, both empowering and destructive, of globalization and development. All of these snapshots have finally coalesced into a vision of confidence that I have regarding my view of America in the world of development. I believe in the power of America to be great and to provide leadership in promoting positive social change around the world and particularly at home. I believe in the notion that Americans are the greatest people in the world and yet have much to learn from their global neighbors. I believe in a similar struggle of values in America, one where big business is winning and true Christian values are being replaced by disturbing interpretations of hate and insouciance, particularly with regards to the world’s poor. I believe that the time for returning home was to be soon so that I could follow through on my plan to bring home my newfound outlooks on the world and the possibilities of culture now that I understand them more thoroughly. At the time, I did not know what further adventures awaited my Nikon and I, what other visions of the world might come to pass.

After returning to Ireland, I went to see the beautiful Lisa Loeb one night at a concert in Galway at the Roisin Dubh, an absolutely excellent venue. My spirits had been lifted by the angelic voice of the opening act Brian O’Flaherty and by about two pints of Carlsberg. Lisa came onto the stage full of energy and anticipation. I had immediately whipped out my Nikon 3500 digital camera to take a picture of her, and in a moment of weakness I dropped the camera into my beer. Air fizzled through the cracks of the camera as the metallic frame submerged down into the translucent glow of lager in what was to be the longest two seconds of my life. I immediately pulled the camera out of the glass and saw the LCD image of the table in front of me fizzle away into lines of static. My Nikon was gone. Submerged in a poisonous vat of distraction and labor, the camera would leave tired, even dead, and at the end of what would be an amazing journey.

The end of that road for me is now. Despite eight weeks to go and many adventures to pursue, I am practically “done” with Ireland. Like my camera drying on the windowsill in dead hopes of revival, I am waiting out my time here in Ireland until I can return to a world with meaning and purpose. When visiting America recently, I completely reconnected with many personal and professional networks and regained a sense of service that had guided me through now almost ten years of working in museum and living institution advocacy and education. I saw in America what I had sensed earlier this spring about my newfound patriotism. I am not homesick, and I wholeheartedly love living in Ireland and Galway, but I am extremely anxious to leave.

In Ireland I am a different person. I live life here like a personal digital camera (I hope by now you have gotten the on-going metaphor), bouncing around in someone else’s pants pockets only to emerge for the exciting moments of the day. I am in and out in flashes of movement and color only to retire periodically, drained of energy. Once I get hold of something to believe in, I become charged and ready, but fizzle out as soon as my expectations fail to be satiated. I have seen amazing things and been to amazing places, but all the while have been entrapped by the confines of my own insecurities, personal vendettas, and the institutional expectations of both my university and the Mitchell Scholarship program. I am extremely grateful for everything my home institution and the Alliance have done for me this year, and yet I have been frustrated all year long by the inabilities of the programs to cater to my individualized academic and personal needs and to empower me to believe in that for which they strive. The only person to blame is myself. When I left America, I left there the passionate and ambitious person that had gotten me the scholarship. This year has been a relaxed state of stress; I am constantly feeling unmotivated and underappreciated all the while unable to find the time or inspiration to be much better. I wish I had approached the year either with a stronger sense purpose or a nonchalant sense of relaxation, free of the stress of meeting expectations. I have not met anyone’s expectations this year really, not even my own.

Despite all this, I have no legitimate regrets. My Nikon is dead, but she had been an old girl ready and willing to go. The concert was a great night otherwise full of wonderful memories including a chance encounter with an old friend from college who magically walked in the door that night. This year has been amazing, and now it is over. My camera will be sent back to America for repairs along with my mind and body. The presence of technology, community, and energy there will hopefully breath life back into both of us, and we will take on the journey we left behind with vigor, grace, and anticipation.

I leave this amazing country with a better-formulated view of the world, many wonderful friends and memories, and a huge amount of gratitude to the people who made this year possible. Thank you to my family and friends who supported me throughout the year despite being so far away. Thank you to the faculty and staff of NUI-Galway, particularly my advisor Dr. Jimmy Dunne and Ann Monahan of Student Services. This year would have been nothing memorable without the tireless efforts of the U.S. Ireland Alliance and its leadership. The best part of the year was my fellow scholars, whose stories, emails, and open arms were, from my first month here, my rock here in Ireland. If I were able to have all of you together in one spot, I would shower the group with praises, sweets, and a call that our work and relationships not end with the passing of this year. Also if I had a working camera, I’d like to take a picture.

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March 2005 Reflection

Posted on March 1, 2005 by kmohan05

Yikes!! The halfway point. I know exactly where the time has gone, and yet am amazed that the year has passed so quickly. But hopefully the rest of the year will grant us 36 hours a day, although that too may not be enough.

Anyway, that’s not important. What is important is the introduction. I guess the best place to start would be the introduction, as introductions are usually in the beginning of whatever you are trying to introduce. I offer the introduction at the beginning as opposed to the conclusion, for if I started with the conclusion than I would have to begin to conclude how I would introduce the end.

Wait. Now I’m confused.

Anyway the confusion is not important either. What is important, so very important, so extremely very important, is that I finally feel at home in Ireland.

I feel, and I do not make this statement lightly, Irish.

I feel Irish because I have begun to master the ‘ironic speak’ that I have come to cherish so dearly.

I feel Irish because I can walk around Dublin without a map (ok…without a map about 90% of the time).

I feel Irish because the rain no longer bothers me – rather I cherish in the greenery it brings. I have become a disciple of the rain, and it is teaching me the ways of finding brightness on the inside, if sunshine cannot be found on the outside.

I feel Irish because I know where to buy vegetables (anywhere but the Spar).

I feel Irish because the spicy chicken roll on campus has become one of my favorite meals, and I can appreciate the application of both butter and mayonnaise to the same dish.

I feel Irish because I also add brown sauce.

I feel Irish because it’s no longer about the Benjamins, it’s about the Rococo.

I feel Irish because I am a better writer and reader.

I feel Irish because I am a better listener.

I feel Irish because I scream at the television when Ireland plays France, Real Madrid contests Manchester United, Arsenic burns Old Lace, East Timor jumps Nepal, Antarctica lays the smack down on the North Pole.

I feel Irish because ALL these games matter to me.

I feel Irish because I can’t watch US college basketball.

I feel Irish because I can see the irony in an Indian learning Yoga in Ireland.

I feel Irish because the Irish are like the Irish are like the Irish.

I feel Irish because I could live here the rest of my life.

I feel Irish because I no longer say, “Excuse me, is this is the line for the subs?”. Rather I say, “Sorry, is this the queue for the baguettes?”

I feel Irish because I know many strange facts about the country, like the fact that while there are only paltry millions of real Irish on the island, there are actually 70 million people worldwide who claim Irish descent, and 42 million of those people live in America (and approximately 41.9999999 million of those people live in Boston and are Boston Red Sox and Patriots fans).

I feel Irish because the other .0000001 million live in England. By accident.

I feel Irish because I take the DART.

I feel Irish because I believe that the best band in the world is U2, that rap is fantastic dance music, that country isn’t music, it’s a location.

I feel Irish because Bushmills is the best whiskey in the whole world.

I feel Irish because Jameson’s is better.

I feel Irish because I can navigate the Dublin Bus system like a pro. I haven’t gotten lost or taken the wrong bus in two months, and this phenomenon occurs even when traveling to destinations I have never been to. I am the master of the Dublin Bus system – it no longer bests me.

I feel Irish because I know the truth about the Viking Tour.

I feel Irish because I appreciate the fruits of globalization.

I feel Irish because I cherish the simple atmosphere of the local pub.

I feel Irish because I went to The Abbey in Limerick and was able to joke with the monks. They told me that Guinness was the best ‘liquor’ Ireland had to offer, and they let me flip through a great number of old books that I would never get to touch in American Museums. They showed me a great forest made of trees imported from the good old USA, including some redwoods that would put Northern California to shame. They showed me that religion isn’t just hysteria to sooth the masses – it’s a quest to find something better for practitioners. Religion is just another avenue to answer the question.

I feel Irish because I finally know what the question is.

I feel Irish because a monk told me he had visited India and felt that Hinduism was one of the world’s most beautiful religions.

I feel Irish because I believe that politics is an avenue to do good, that good politicians do exist, that good people can do good works in a good government, as long as they are supported by a good people with good intentions and beliefs.

I feel Irish because I too struggle with the discontinuity between my religious beliefs and my social beliefs. I want to be a good practitioner of my religion – I want to be a good member of society.

I feel Irish because I value my time more than my money. I want to work hard, but so that I may relax now, instead of some future potential date.

I feel Irish because like many 23 yr-olds here, I have no idea what to do with my life.

I feel Irish because I believe this confusion is ok.

I feel Irish because I no longer ask for a beer. I ask for a pint.

I feel Irish because American football is the weak version of Rugby.

I feel Irish because I know what Hurling is.

I feel Irish because I now believe when the going gets tough, you gotta get tough.

I feel Irish because I now believe that love knows no bounds.

I feel Irish because the Troubles matter to me more than ever. I can appreciate the struggle, try to understand the complexity, bask in the high emotions on both sides, and cringe at the insensitivity of the other sides’ comments.

I feel Irish because as much as I appreciate the new beautiful things, I still cherish the old things. The world is changing at an extremely fast pace, but not fast enough that I don’t have time to stop and relax.

I feel Irish because it’s not about education – it’s about acquiring knowledge.

I feel Irish because I know you don’t smoke craic.

I feel Irish because I’ll now walk the extra mile to save the extra penny, but I’ll splurge on friends and family.

I feel Irish because I work smarter, not harder.

I feel Irish because I saw the movie ‘Team America’ and found it was what I loved and hated about America at the same time.

I feel Irish, because after returning from Morocco, and passing through exams (hopefully, anyway), I took a quick jaunt back to the States. In 2.5 weeks, I visited – NYC, Kentucky, NYC, Duke (down in NC), and NYC again. But I missed Ireland dearly, and found my return fueled by a new vigor to take advantage of this fabulous opportunity. I want to leave Ireland with no regrets.

I feel Irish because this is an impossible goal.

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