January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by mgale05

Exactly twenty-four years ago to the day, my mother went through the pain that only mothers know, swearing never again. Satisfied with my brother and I, she gave everything to make sure we turned out all right. As I write this, I am sitting on the top floor of the library at the National University of Ireland, Galway looking out the water speckled window into another storming day in the west of Ireland with all of the treasures that my mother could have dreamed for me: a healthy heart and mind, moderate good looks, and opportunities that “your mother can’t keep up with.” This day, my 24th birthday, I cannot say that everything is stress-free or sensible, but I can say that life is good.

My recent times in Ireland have been important ones of reflection, fun, and meaning. Winter in Ireland, especially in the west, is full of cold rain, hot whiskeys, and times of quiet. I spent my first Christmas away from home with a wonderful Irish family, the Normans, in what was a wonderful time of communion, friendship, and celebration. Our times together in front of the hearth were quiet reminders of what family means and a provocative lens into the intricacies of Irish life. The succession of what seemed endless courses of food, the drink cup that was never allowed to be empty, and the sharing of stories were things I cherish in the hospitality traditions of the South and Appalachia, but there was something really giving and unique about the flare of sincerity that this family, who barely knew me at all, had in opening their home to me. It was simply wonderful.

These past months have seen relatively little traveling for me. I have made some trips to Dublin, a particularly memorable one to set up a research internship with Fergus O’Dowd, who is a member of the Irish parliament and the lead opposition to the government on environmental issues. The position involves researching environmental and development policy issues. This addition to my routine is probably the most exciting part of my program here in Ireland and is a perfect compliment to my thesis research work. My MSc. project has finally materialized into a great project looking at protected areas designation policy in Ireland and its appeals process as an indicator of policy effectiveness. This work will give me some great opportunities to travel around Ireland and to work with interesting Irish government officials and environmentalists. The combination of my internship and research project should provide an extremely comprehensive picture of Irish environmental policy, an understanding that could no doubt be imperative in my understanding of environmental law and seriously shape my approaches to conservation work.

Just living in Ireland has shaped my attitudes towards environmentalism and conservation. One of the stronger reasons for my desire to study in Ireland was the region’s relatively progressive attitude towards environmental, animal welfare, and social causes. Having lived here this long has changed my understanding of exactly how attuned Ireland is to progressive values on these issues, in both positive and negative ways. The Irish are committed to environmentalism in the sense of its social context and the pressure it gets from the rest of the European community, which is increasingly leaning green. When a bag tax was implemented for plastic shop bags, there was a 95% drop in the number of bags consumed, and I have never lived in a community this deeply committed to organic and sustainable foods. Even McDonald’s insistence on using 100% Irish beef is a reflection of the country’s commitment to their own environment and livelihoods. This however only goes as far as it does not significantly impede Ireland’s newfound affinity for economic growth and development. The nation is lagging with its Kyoto Protocol commitments for reducing greenhouse gases and has, in general, planned poorly for making the development of infrastructure sustainable. Just try driving through the chaotic mess that is Dublin’s roadways (I have personally only experienced it on a bus, but based on several news programs and conversations in Fair City episodes, I would say it is a national example or “poor planning.”). Even in college you see unsustainable practices, most notoriously the printing out of single sheet receipts from the printers in the computer suites every time you print something. No offense to anyone involved, but it is the most egregious waste of paper I have ever seen, and I pray that the newly elected environmental awareness officer for the Student’s Union will work on this. I have a draft email waiting to be sent once they are elected.

The New Year was another day of great company and quiet fellowship. I counted down the seconds in The Crane, a traditional Irish pub, with my good friend Monica Bell, a fellow Mitchell Scholar. This year is not coming with any what I would call “resolutions,” but I see the next several months as a significant point of change. My lifestyle here has become much more serious (having regular office hours and learning to cook serious recipes) and I am now at a turning point that many “fellowship kids” find themselves. One tragic day, my time as an active Mitchell Scholar will end and I will need to move on. Where I will be and what I will be doing is now a blank page. If anyone reading this has a good idea, feel free to send suggestions along. Until that decision must be made, I will calmly enjoy the rest of my days here: this the 24th year of my story.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by cromero05

It’s hard to believe I’ve already been living in Belfast for almost four months. As I arrived back from Christmas break, there was a definite sense of familiarity at the sight of the Victorian brownstones and Ulster accent that gave me a good feeling of being back. The first semester of classes has ended and with it the focus has shifted towards concentrating on building a dissertation topic. After having first mulled over the idea of researching Privatized Military Companies and their activities in the Western Balkan as well as some of the ethnic conflicts in Africa, I’ve begun to have second thoughts and might take a trip to the Balkans for some inspiration. As we’ve learned in our Ethnic Conflict course from last semester, it’s difficult to find the right comparative analysis between countries and much of that decision shapes the actual topic or at least the kinds of question that arise. There’s nothing more important than actually framing a good research question I think.

Before leaving on Christmas break, November was a month of traveling. I went to Spain twice that month, first to Barcelona, Valencia and a small town outside of Valencia, called Lyria. A classmate of mine lived in Valencia and Liria for a year and had a home there. As it turns out the entire southeast coast of Spain has seen an influx in recent years of Irish and British visitors that have decided to buy property there and many of the small, very under-populated and remote villages along that coast have become havens for those from the north of Europe who are seeking tranquility. Who can blame them, as the land is just gorgeous and ripe with potential for growth. Liria is an idyllic spot that epitomizes what Valencia is most known for- acres upon acres of orange groves!

Visiting Spain is an unusual feeling for me because it is at once familiar and foreign. Hearing my native language is a comforting feeling after being away from home for a while, but the accents are so different and with the rise of Catalan nationalism, Barcelona especially does not even feel very Spanish and Castilian is not the norm. There were certain foods I came across which I had been familiar with all my life yet hadn’t ever realized originated from Spain. At the same time though, the cities are very European with advertisements and shops that serve as constant reminders that it is not in fact Latin America, even if the architecture and weather is so familiar. And what architecture! It’s amazing to see what the “empire” built- beautiful baroque buildings, intricately ornate medieval churches, even a marble plaza in Valencia! Yet, Spain is not just about medieval architecture- it is a country that is constantly reproducing creativity, as its modern architecture is almost even more impressive.

My second trip was a five day excursion throughout Barcelona, which allowed me enough time to marvel at the amazing creations of Antonio Gaudi, a true mastermind of 20th century architecture. La Sagrada Familia is like watching history in the making as this church is a remarkable project that has been ongoing for about 100 years and probably has another century of building left to go. The Parque Guell is like walking through a dreamscape straight out of a Dali painting, truly unbelievable. Now that I’m back in Belfast though, I plan on exploring more of Ireland and Northern Ireland. I will try to go to Galway sometime in the next few weeks.

I recently stepped into a bookstore across the street from my house and came across Seamus Heaney’s translation of Beowulf and quickly grabbed the book to turn to the foreword. This had been the central text that had inspired me to study here at Queens University exactly one year ago. That text along with a conversation with Paul Muldoon, a famous Northern Irish poet who resides in the U.S. and is a professor at Princeton but was a student of Seamus Heaney when he was studying here at Queens, had excited me to see for myself the energy, history and traditions that existed in this city and this university that had the capacity to mould such creative and thoughtful minds. After being worn down for days by papers and exams, there was nothing better than to peruse through those words again and feel reinvigorated with a sense of purpose and excitement about being here.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by mbell05

The time frame for this journal entry, November-January, started off on an extremely low point for me: the November 2 elections. I am grateful for the ideological diversity of our Mitchell class, but I have to admit I was personally devastated about most of the races from the top of the ticket all the way down to my SC state and local races. I spent most of November emotionally recuperating and trying to rekindle my optimism about the possibilities of American politics. When I wasn’t contemplating America’s future, I was preparing for my own in the form of a spring Masters thesis and fall law school matriculation. Dublin, like any hometown, has ceased being exotic and has become the backdrop for my mundane life.

December brought tough exams, chilly weather, and hot heaps of grits (for my Equality Studies friends who dared try my cooking.) Equality Studies at UCD continues to be my very favorite thing about Ireland, closely followed by Cornucopia, Cadbury Snacks and Pepsi Max. All of my professors, even the extremely accomplished chair of the Centre (Kathleen Lynch), have us use only their first names. At first I was uncomfortable with this and even found it distracting, but it’s been amazing to see how such a “small” thing can bring about an egalitarian learning environment. In early December, most of the folks in my department headed over to Kathleen’s for a potluck dinner featuring singalongs and intense conversation until 6:00 AM! I’ve had many fun times in Ireland, but that was probably my favorite night thus far. In short, I am incredibly fortunate to be an Equality Studies student – even if I’ll be explaining what it is for the rest of my career!

I stayed in Ireland over the holidays. The first couple of days, I went to visit one of my roommates in her home county of Waterford (yes, of Waterford Crystal fame.) She lives on a family farm in Dungarven. This was my first time traveling in Ireland outside of Dublin in a non-Mitchell capacity, and I must say that I loved Dungarven. It is in a Gaelteacht region, and the “Irishness” of the place was much more tangible than in Dublin. The night I spent there was my second favorite Dublin night…not that every night is subject to a ranking system. After spending a week back at UCD, I then went to Galway for five days to ring in the New Year with fellow Mitchell Michael Gale. Being a cold weather wimp, Galway was an experience for me – I never wanted to leave the apartment! Consequently, we watched lots of DVDs and chatted politics with his roommates, who are decidedly more conservative than my classmates and roommates. New Year’s was “good craic” and “brilliant”, as they say.

I’ve also started volunteering with AkiDwA, an organization for African women in Ireland. The extent of my volunteerism is very loose; I am creating and entering names and organizations into a database for the group, and my next project is revamping their brochure. I can do most of these things from my personal computer, so it is not time-consuming, but I know it’s very useful. Hopefully there will be many fun AkiDwA stories in later entries.

I would like to again thank my friends at Furman University, the South Carolina Democratic Party, University College Dublin, the donors, and of course, the US-Ireland Alliance for allowing me to take this great opportunity.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by dbuckley05

Before you ask, I just want to say that I didn’t do it. My alibi is airtight. I was back in the States when Belfast’s Northern Bank got robbed. Ask my parents. Besides, what would I do with 26 million pounds sterling? Perhaps endow the Mitchell program? Well I suppose I do have motive then. Let’s change the subject. Any more questions can be directed to Trina and Dell.

As when I last checked in, Belfast is nothing if not interesting. November and December saw diplomatic negotiations between Sinn Fein and the DUP come tantalizingly close to completion, before once again degenerating into mutual blame for unwillingness to compromise. The bank robbery has taken any lingering momentum away from negotiations; a deal between Sinn Fein and DUP now seems as unlikely as ever.

It has been fascinating to observe all of this progress and regression while working with ECONI (Evangelical Contribution on Northern Ireland), a local group that engages religious communities in the process of building peace. The opportunity to provide them diplomatic analysis, as well as contribute to work on dealing with the past, human rights, and the role of churches in the public square has been challenging, engaging, and humbling. Even more rewarding than the work has been becoming a part of a community of people who have literally given their lives to building peace in this divided land. They work constantly, through both progress and setbacks, with hope in the future but a very real sense of the difficulties in reconciling two long-divided communities.

At this point, the greatest sign of progress in Northern Ireland may be this: in spite of the recent political setbacks, life in Belfast carries on much as it has since I’ve arrived. Pubs are packed with a cosmopolitan crowd, construction continues throughout the city, and St. George’s Market is teeming with customers on a Saturday morning.

The chance to live and work in such a fascinating environment while studying ethnic conflict at Queen’s University has undoubtedly been the most rewarding part of my time in Belfast. Classes are a mixture of world-class scholarship and personal experience, abstract theorizing and very real day-to-day events. First semester exams have just finished, so now the second semester, and Master’s thesis, loom on the horizon. More updates on that to follow.

Among the most pleasant surprises in Belfast has been the quality of the live music available throughout the city. Like the city, the music scene is a mixture of local and international, and just a little rough around the edges. Doesn’t a great music scene have to be a little rough from time to time? The entertainment ranges from open mike night in the dark back bar of Lavery’s to the fantastically colourful performance by Ibrahim Ferrer and the Buena Vista Social Club at the sparkling Waterfront Hall, from quiet trad sessions at The Duke of York, Fibber McGee’s, and Kelly’s Cellars to the decidedly not quiet blues night at The Empire. There has even been an all too brief appearance by what I can only describe as a wandering band of Spanish matadors with guitars, in search of an open stage and free beer. They came to the right town.

As always, some of the most interesting moments of the past months have taken place away from dear Belfast. A weekend in Barcelona provided a welcome dose of sunshine and relative warmth in early December. Having the opportunity to visit such exciting and vibrant places is just another thing that makes the Mitchell experience so incredible. My road also led back to Dublin for a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with the Mitchell family, and more than one late-night poker game. With the increasingly painful exchange rate, it’s been nice to have this constant cash flow to augment my stipend! The Dublin Mitchells are a particularly generous bunch.

One unforgettable experience this past semester took place not in a crowded pub or an exotic European city, but in the hills of County Down, three miles outside the beautiful village of Rostrevor. This is the site of Holy Cross Monastery, a community of Benedictan monks established in the mid 1990s. Almost all are from France, drawn to Northern Ireland by the conflict to serve as a sign of peace and reconciliation. It is difficult to imagine a more refreshing way to spend a weekend than basking in Benedictan hospitality, joining in the swelling chants, and savouring the simple French country cooking that the monks brought with them.

I suppose that’s a relatively good snapshot of life since I last checked in. Being in the States for the holidays was a great break, but it’s good to be back in my room, looking out over Mount Charles. This should be another memorable semester of classes, travel, and blowing ₤26 million on Guinness. I think I need to call my lawyer.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by njohnson05

Perhaps a place first becomes your home when you return there from afar. I flew into Dublin this week from Chicago. Thanks to the windstorms and the jet stream, it only took six hours; thanks to my excitement and the Real New York Times (as opposed to that nomad rag, the International Herald Tribune) I couldn’t possibly sleep. I felt the twinge of this word, Home, as soon as I heard the voices of the people in the Aer Lingus line. Tones of the old country, as they say. Or perhaps the twinge was the word Nomad. Words put me in a muddle, especially those I have deprived of special meaning through overuse. Maybe it was the jetlag.

We cut through the morning fog somewhere over west County Dublin, and I devoured the irregular trapezoids that make up the austere aerial landscape of this island. Nowhere else I’ve seen is quite like it, carved as it is into a bizarre geometry of stones and untrod pathways. It is at once organic and mortal, ancient and rigid. My fascination will drive me, when winter is over, on foot across the island. I have begun to plan a path from Dublin to Galway. My swollen feet on the plane, even as I had this thought, were pressing into the new boots I had bought with weak dollars. I was thinking about puns: these shoes will have their souls tested.

Perhaps home is not a place at all, and this is where I went wrong.

Home could be a feeling, or a person, or a family. The clouds over Dublin are not the only place I’ve felt the twinge before. How many cities have there been in this psychotic connect-the-dots over thousands of miles? Even in the last month, old haunts in New York City, new haunts in Alabama, my family in El Paso, old friends in Chicago, each place has had a special pull on me. It is as though home is a mental sphere which I carry with me. It expands to take in the person across the coffee table from me, or to fill the room full of acting students at Northwestern, or to encompass the entire South Side as I ride the el into town from Midway. The unique grin of recognition cannot be wiped off my face, whether it’s over the first Guinness or the last airport or the best friend.

Increasingly I find that I recognize myself, that I feel most at home, when I am in motion. Back in November I took the bus to Belfast, and though it was my first time there, I felt an enormous comfort. Belfast is not widely known for producing this reaction. One part of it was the phenomenon I mentioned, that it felt nice to have Dublin rendered a base, a place to which I could now come back. But another, perhaps more significant reason, is that Belfast itself is in transition. It is a city that today exemplifies mobility and change; in this way it reminds me strongly of Berlin. Both cities are on the cusp of something unknown and unnamable, at the crossroads of infinite possible futures. They are like train station switchyards, or the trains themselves, infinitely capable of variation and drift, dauntingly multiple. I too, I think, aspire to this condition.

One certainty to which I can still cling is that I have a home, anywhere I may be, in the theatre. I was in my first play in Dublin. It was a short one, a small and low-key affair, but with dedicated collaborators and a full house. For all the disorganization, worry, and rush that inevitably surrounded the process, I could not have been happier. As we loaded in and had our only technical rehearsal on the day of the show, as curses and commands whizzed by our heads like so many bullets, I noticed that old grin, irrepressible, signalling my arrival at a place where, even if I can’t settle down, I can rejoice in freedom and mobility. I can rename movement, and call it rest.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by bthibodeaux05

Greetings all! In my last journal entry, I gave you all a promise that I would attempt to become a far more fascinating Mitchell the next time you read my journal. Well, I have striven to keep that promise. I have become much more active in social things at Magee and Derry/Londonderry.

First off, I have taken up Salsa (believe me no is more surprised than I that I would learn to Salsa in Derry/Londonderry). I only wish someone taught the Tango, but baby steps for someone like me who has very little rhythm. Also, since we last chatted I have taken up mountain walking. At Magee, they call it merely hill walking. As a Cajun who comes from an area that is at least six feet below sea level, anything that rises above 100 feet to me is much more than a hill it is a mountain. Those excursions have revealed the true beauty of Ireland’s countryside. Sure I got soaked on one trip, but it was more than worth it to see the coast and Giant’s Causeway. It was an absolutely breathtaking walk/hike. Oh yes, I have also taken up my long time wish of fencing. I have only had a few lessons but love every minute of it.

Derry/Londonderry and Ireland have truly grown on me. I love it. Right now, I am sitting in my living room in Erath, Louisiana thinking of the green of the countryside and just the fascinating nature of Northern Ireland. Though, this may sound strange coming from a Cajun, but Northern Ireland is beginning to feel like a second home to me. The nature and way of the people of Ireland remind me considerably of the American South and home. You know people going out of their way to make sure that you are enjoying yourself and that you find those places of interest that most would miss.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to a conference for another fellowship that I was awarded, and they were stressing cultural sensitivity for those students who were studying abroad and how to watch their mouths to not get into trouble. I just could not help but sit back and think how I never did any of that in Ireland/Northern Ireland. I just asked questions and proudly stated my beliefs. Sure it got some strange looks, some heated debates, but in the end I made good friends and came to truly understand the nature of conflict in Northern Ireland because I was not afraid to look like a fool or ask a hard question. I did not remain clueless. Instead, I got an often-neglected insight into the problem. I believe I am far far better for it. I could not help but think that these counselors should be telling them ask anything. Stand up for your beliefs and that is when you will learn, not by playing it safe or coy.

Finally, this experience is truly beginning to have an impact on me. When I went to Northern Ireland, admittedly I knew little to nothing about the conflict. I was a product of the American media convinced it was Catholics and Protestants killing each other over religion and nothing more. How wrong I was, and how I have learned, and actually felt as if I were a part of everything. I’ll never forget the Wednesday before I left Ireland for Christmas how excited we all were that an agreement could finally be reached and the Belfast Agreement would be fully implemented. I found myself reading every article, listening to every story on the media about the negotiations. Actually, I felt a sense of disappointment when nothing materialized. Many there explained to me that they have heard the same things for almost thirty years, and have come to the belief that seeing is believing not hearing.

Well, I hope that this entry is slightly more interesting than the last. I hope that all of you who have read this will have had a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

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January 2005 Reflection

Posted on January 1, 2005 by rhanley05

My flight arrived into Dublin four hours ago. Within ten minutes of collecting my baggage from the turnstile, one of my Irish friends called to say welcome back. Although I wasn’t sure myself that I had been in Ireland long enough last semester or done anything prominent enough to warrant a ‘welcome back’ rather than just a ‘welcome’, it put a smile on my face to know that I was ‘back’ in the place that is my newest home.

While back in North Carolina for the holidays, I recognized the moment when I started to miss Ireland. I was visiting some friends at an annual reunion we hold just after New Years. As I do every year, I sat down with my friend’s father, the well-read doctor who has an obsession for Irish literature, for our annual talk about everything that is going on in the world. Last year I sat listening to the many reasons why he dove nightly into the text of Joyce and Beckett and Heaney, trying to develop an appreciation for his love of these often incomprehensible writers. After offering my skepticism by reciting the difficulties that my friends have had when struggling to understand these authors, I blindly copied down his suggestions for help guides when reading these works, wondering if I would ever use his advice. Yet this year as we sat down, I excitedly dove into the reasons why Joyce was fascinating me and keeping me up at night. I admitted how his plots often don’t seem to move quickly, sometimes not moving at all, yet the racy diction and the digression of the author’s mind through any and every topic has kept me enthralled. As I left the reunion the next day, I realized that I had come to love Irish literature; yet more importantly, I realized that reading these works reminded me of my own life in Dublin—that I missed my own stories of wondering around the city with friends, passing by the same streets and statues that Joyce and company passed by during their time in the city.

One of my more interesting tasks last semester was teaching a soil and groundwater laboratory to first year students here at Trinity. At first I was a bit concerned because the students were not very talkative in class. None of them would ask questions and not many would respond to any of the questions that I posed them. As I tried harder to break the ice with each new group of students, I chalked up my defeat to cultural differences in student behavior. Although Irish students are much less accustomed to classroom discussion than American students, a fellow postgraduate finally pointed out what my real problem was: I spoke a bit too fast in my cross of a southern and northern American accent for them to catch all of the words that I was saying. I guess after all the problem was cultural differences.

The end of my last semester was a busy time, highlighted by Dublin being taken over by the lights and cheerfulness of the Christmas season. I helped plan the postgraduate Christmas Party for my Engineering Department where both the students and staff unanimously agreed that my mix of country Christmas songs would never play on their island again. I had better success at my next party, where I reproduced exactly the homemade apple pie that my mom is famous for—except for the fact that it looked and tasted nothing like my mom’s. I intend to practice and be prepared for next year.

A few of the highlights of last semester included a week’s vacation in Rome; a week spent with Buckley, Kesav, and Cindy in sunny Barcelona timed perfectly to give us a hiatus from the cold winter of Ireland; and a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner at the home of the Lee’s—I never thought Thanksgiving away from my family could feel so much like home. And finally, to all my friends and family back home who were disappointed that I hadn’t picked up an Irish brogue yet, I promise that I will try my hardest over the next several months so as not to disappoint upon my next journey home.

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November 2004 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2004 by mgale05

For just over two months the “place of foreigners,” or Galway, has been my home. What a fantastic home to have. I live in a quaint apartment complex on the water just beside the docks with four Irish graduate students. The city of Galway is extremely intimate, small enough to recognize familiar souls but exciting enough to make every night different. It is in these nights that reside some of my fondest times. The life of the public houses in Galway is always vibrant, never tiring, and now is a part of practically my every day. Also every day I go north into college along the main Shop Street, bustling with street performers, locals, and visitors. Every Saturday I visit the market by St. Nichols church to get fresh humus and a crepe. Every moment living here is different, slower yet more meaningful.

Most of my lifestyle here is centered on college, despite not having to attend lectures. I am in a full-time research degree in Zoology, which keeps me busy along with volunteering at the Atlantaquarium outside of Galway. A good bit of my time is spent with college societies. I have been serving on the Committee of the Political Discussion Society and the Zoology Society while writing a play for the Drama Society called “Paddy’s Day” that is being performed as part of Science Week at the Helix in Dublin. My spare time is devoted to taking Irish language classes, finishing my summer reading list, volunteering for the campus radio station, and trying desperately to stay in touch with old friends and family.

My Mitchell Scholar family has been my rock as I work to experience the isle of saints and scholars. Like some deranged fraternity of hopeless vagabonds, our good times together are like no other. Late night poker tournaments, our own unique brand of Irish national monument tours, and buckets upon buckets of red paint fill my memories with my fellow Scholars. They remind me of our combined purpose within the Mitchell Scholar program and the extreme fortune I have to be included among such a fine group of people.

The group of us traveled last month in Dublin and in some of the central counties of Ireland. It was simply fantastic. Soon our journey will take us into Northern Ireland and perhaps elsewhere. I personally took a weekend trip to Paris with one other Mitchell Scholar, Monica Bell, to celebrate the birthday of a friend of ours. I am also going with Monica to visit some friends of ours in London and Oxford for the weekend, a trip we have been looking forward to for almost half a year. Dublin seems to be a city that calls on me often, having visited Grafton Street and her surrounding tributaries now four times and counting. I know the fantastic USIT stipend and the aspirations of my friends will lead me on many other adventures, but traveling makes me weak and tired.

With every day, Ireland grows on me. True I do not like the candy bars here or the price of clothes and drinks, but I cannot imagine a more appropriate and loving country in which to spend a year. The music, the people, and my place among them have been quite magical… and surprisingly I can only imagine life getting better from here on out. As said in one of the more special Irish proverbs I have learned here, “Níl aon tintéan mar do thintéan féin (There’s no place like home).”

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November 2004 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2004 by njohnson05

A month and a half in Ireland has passed, and this makes no sense. To one part of me, the part that catalogues the minutiae but lives for the moment, a year has passed already; I live here, in Dublin, and so I call it home. It may well have been home all along, so little do I feel the real passage of time. Already I am full of this crowded city, packed with people, alleys, details. I know where I can buy my music, my books, my daily bread. I have found my favorite street markets, a different one for every purpose. Even the stranger items on the list — sushi rice, couscous, jalapeños — all have their hiding-places, and I have done my best to run them down. On each quest I learn the city a bit more. I find the accidental coffee shop that becomes a favorite haunt, or the neighborhood pub that is far from my neighborhood, but which I adopt just the same. I have begun to answer the tourists who ask me for directions with some confidence — if they ask an easy one.

Dublin and I do not act like we just met. Our relationship is not the tempestuous first love, full of passions and betrayals, but rather like the marriage of two grandparents, when even our faults have become endearing to the other. The things we don’t know about each other do not surprise us, or at least that’s how we act. Sometimes I stay out all night, usually when nursing my American nostalgia, the Red Sox or the election, over an obligatory Guinness. Quite often Dublin is in one of her moods and goes storming around, pouring rain, hurling wind, and the streets are like a psychotic puzzle of which I can’t make any sense. But on these jigsaw days I find myself smiling and forgiving, ducking my rain-soaked head into a warm room for one more tea time. Even during her rush-hour tantrums, or on the weekends when Grafton Street is wall-to-wall teeming with tourists and buskers and hawkers, I find myself walking slowly and serenely through it all.

I drink it in. Everywhere I find only truth-tellers. Everywhere there is a fragment worth keeping. I wish to love the worst in Dublin, to know even the dirt and refuse at its outmost margins or its most conflicted center. To love anything else would not be love — at least, not the 40-year marriage kind of love.

I bring the city into it because of how much place affects my work. Living in a city and loving it at the same time, I have found, is not unlike the project of art or the labor of education. One must cultivate a permeable membrane around the self, a thin but strong skin, so that each new occurrence is allowed to take root, to grow, to inspire. The temptation, especially in graduate programs, is toward protection, certainty, and insularity. Trinity College encourages this, albeit inadvertently. It is a serene oasis in the seething downtown, and it would be easy to stay within its high walls. It is easy to lose myself in the library and in my work. Plenty of “free time” is taken up with cooking in my kitchen, meals with my roommate and the wealth of Irish friendship that he brings, poker with Mitchell Scholars, my radio show on Monday nights, the climbing club on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My impulse has always been to fill every empty spot in my schedule like so many bricks in a wall. But the beauty of the Mitchell Scholarship is that it buys you the time and the freedom to explore outside a common bound. During the Dublin Theatre Festival I managed to attend ten productions. I have made my excursions to the Irish Film Institute and the National Gallery routine. These rituals are intimately connected to the project of the grant, extracurricular though they are. Already I have memories and loves that are inextricable from this land; surely this, too, is a process that is part of the goal.

There is another side of me that is unconcerned with minutiae, that thinks in abstract, broad strokes. To this side my six weeks, far from the year’s worth of experience I have described, have been shorter than a day. This side knows how much remains to be seen and done. It knows I can’t plan for all the things I am not looking for, but that will change me forever. It knows above all that a city cannot be grasped by the mind of one person, whatever James Joyce might have to say about it. It knows that if Dublin has filled me, I will never be able to fill it. And in the long run, it will be enough for me to contribute my own footprints to the vast, dear dirty palimpsest that lies invisibly on these cobblestones.

In any case, it hasn’t been six weeks.

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November 2004 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2004 by dbuckley05

I had no idea what to expect from Belfast. The usual reaction when telling American friends and relatives that I would spend a year in Northern Ireland’s largest city was often mild confusion at the very least. They may not have said it, but I think most people thought to themselves, ‘Why stop at Belfast? I hear that Baghdad is lovely in November.’ In spite of its reputation for division, I’ve come to love this exciting, sometimes turbulent, and rapidly changing city over the past month and a half.

I’m studying Comparative Ethnic Conflict, so coming to Belfast was a bit of a natural fit. The classroom experience at Queen’s has been challenging and stimulating, but as so often happens, I’ve learned as much about the reality of ethnic conflict in day to day interactions with the people of this city that has been the site of so much pain and violence. From cab drivers who worked through the worst of the Troubles, to pub owners who welcome increasingly international clientele, to classmates who grew up throughout Northern Ireland’s sectarian landscape, I’ve found the people of Belfast among the best teachers I’ve ever encountered. The walls and barbed wire between sectarian neighbourhoods make it painfully clear that deep division remains, but the growth and energy of City Centre hopefully indicate a more stable and prosperous future for this incredible place.

In addition to classroom studies, I’ve started to work with ECONI, a Christian NGO that works to coordinate the efforts of churches and the diplomatic process. The staff has been incredibly welcoming during my short tenure, and I look forward to contributing in some small way to their courageous work over the coming year. I’ll be monitoring the day-to-day turns of the diplomatic process in Northern Ireland, and also providing briefs on the politics of other conflict areas throughout the world into which ECONI is thinking about expanding its work. I just started last week, so more detailed updates to follow on this front.

For all my love of Belfast, some of my best memories so far have come far from the Lagan. The orientation in Ireland, from the heights of the Gravity Bar to the depths of humiliating defeat at the poker table, was among the best four days of my life. On another foray to Dublin, Mr. Hanley and I learned the hard way that even the youngest female members of Dublin society can have a wicked left hook. And just last night, Cindy, Ryan, Kesav and I discovered the indescribably fun event that is Derry on Halloween. I dare say that three men have never looked so good in dresses. The short time I’ve been here has given me enough incredible memories for a year. I can’t wait to see what’s still in store.

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November 2004 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2004 by mbell05

The more I travel, the more I realize that every place is basically the same. I don’t mean that in the sense that globalization has infected the whole world with a McDonald’s on every block (although that would be an accurate diagnosis.) I mean that it is difficult to make generalizations about Dublin or the Irish in a meaningful way, because all over the world — well, at least everywhere I’ve been — societies are composed of a wide variation of elements that defy characterization, and people everywhere are just looking for some respect. Women, both in Dublin and in Anderson, South Carolina, get angry when a taxi driver overcharges them. Men, both in Dublin and in Anderson, South Carolina, drink too much and yell at passersby. Students, both in Dublin and in Anderson, South Carolina, search diligently for the cheapest place to get an edible meal. Cultural distinctions are certainly present, and they are interesting and important. But the world would be a kinder, less xenophobic place if we stopped focusing on our neighbors’ “exotic” behaviors and started realizing that our common experience as human beings is what’s most important. My time in Ireland has been a justification of this worldview.

That’s not to say I came to these shores free of my own preconceived notions. One expectation was being faced with racism at every corner. Ireland has experienced an increase in immigration in the past 5-10 years since the Celtic Tiger, and Irish people are still struggling to deal with the new diversity. There were ethnic tensions here before (the Traveller community comes to mind) but the influx of Asian and African immigrants has brought ethnic diversity to the forefront of social discourse. Ireland’s transitional phase is detectable in the low standards of political correctness. For example, in any Centra or Spar convenience store you can pick up a pack of Minstrels candy white malt balls with a chocolate coating. You might also head over to Cafi Sol for a “Sambo Run.” It can be slightly disturbing, but it’s much more benign than what I’d imagined. Before leaving the US, I read a news story about an African-American who was stabbed in Dublin City centre during broad daylight by some people who thought he was an asylum seeker. Forgetting the media’s tendency to sensationalize, I went into panic mode, thinking I might literally be fighting for my life on the mean streets of Dublin. Boy, was I wrong. Not only have I been treated very well by almost every Irish person I’ve encountered, I have not even been followed around a convenience store yet! (Back home in South Carolina, this was a regular occurrence and I was used to it.) All of my roommates and most of my friends are Irish. That myth of rampant, vicious racism has been largely debunked. After all, when it comes to the Minstrels and Cafi Sol, I can just go to Insomnia for a coffee and Cadbury Bar!

In other news, I absolutely love the Equality Studies Centre here at UCD. The students are incredibly diverse in every way. There are a number of mature students who work full-time, so that adds a great experiential element. I look forward to my classes every day and am excited about my thesis. It’s intellectually very interesting to be surrounded by people who are generally far more to the left than I am. Arguing for the “too conservative” theories of John Rawls and other liberal egalitarians has made me appear callous here at times, while in South Carolina, I am more in the “bleeding heart” category. One thing that I’ve realized about myself is how much my politics are rooted in American values and the “American Dream.”

While I have always viewed equal opportunity as an ideal, most of my classmates don’t think it is extensive enough. There are some who would argue unabashedly for equality of condition, including equality of love, care, and solidarity. In the US, people just don’t say those kinds of things, it sounds too much like socialism. It’s healthy to be challenged not just from the right, but also from the left.

Finally, for the more mundane things people should know:
1. It rains a lot here, but the wind will blow your umbrella inside out and it will become useless.
2. Spar and Centra are the fanciest convenience stores this country girl ever did see.
3. Try to avoid doing laundry as long as possible. In two months, I’ve only done it once. The launderette on campus is 2.60 a load, and apparently that’s cheaper than other places!
4. NEVER put your wallet in your backpack, especially when you’re visiting Paris (a long story for another day.)
5. NEVER get in a fight with twelve-year-olds (another long but truly hilarious story.)
6. The best food you can find in Dublin is at Cornucopia, a vegetarian restaurant on Wicklow Street. A large soup and freshly baked bread are just 3.65!
7. Salads here are way better than lettuce and random oily dressing. I hate salad in America. Salads in Ireland, though, are scrumptious. You should come here and try them for yourself!
8. Continuing on the food tip, definitely get the sweet corn on your pizza. You may have never considered putting corn on your pizza before, but it is truly a life-changing experience.

I have been enlightened by my first European experience, and I look forward to continually expanding that knowledge over the course of my time in Ireland. I can’t express my gratitude for Trina, Dell, Kathleen, the selection panel, and anyone who contributes to Alliance for blessing me with this amazing opportunity!

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November 2004 Reflection

Posted on November 1, 2004 by rhanley05

“There was green alligators and long necked geese. Some humpty-backed camels and some chimpanzees. Some cats and rats and elephants, but sure as you’re born. The loveliest of them all was the Unicorn.”

It only seems fitting that I begin my first journal from Ireland with the refrain of the first Irish pub song that I ever learned. Who knows when I first committed these genius lyrics to memory, but I feel that they have always been part of my musical repertoire. In fact, I wouldn’t bet that this song wasn’t playing on the car stereo the first time that my parents took me home from the hospital. Along with every other Irish pub song, it seemed to be playing during every car ride throughout my childhood. Partly due to this unique musical welcome into the world, it has always seemed destined that I would someday find myself living with the Irish. I can tell you that the first six weeks of my fulfilled dream have been nothing short of spectacular.

It has not been hard adjusting to life in Dublin. In fact, I doubt that any other group of young people has been spoiled as much as the Mitchell Scholars when arriving to a foreign country. Our orientation weekend consisted of four days packed with Irish culture, beautiful scenery, and of course, our share of Guinness. After settling into my apartment a few days later inside the walls of Trinity College, I knew that I was going to have no trouble loving every second of life here. If the center of Dublin is what you seek, then there is hardly a better place to live than Trinity. Yet, as my Irish roommate quickly showed me, there are certainly more places in Dublin to explore than just Temple Bar. In fact, he even threatened to stop being my roommate if I ever went to that tourist trap again.

Trinity’s central location more than assures a fair amount of visiting friends. All of the Mitchell’s have made it down for at least a weekend, reaffirming the fact that we are quickly becoming a close-knit group of friends. Despite the groans of our Irish friends here, I think that they are enjoying the influx of Americans that are constantly invading their lives. I am sure that they enjoy picking our brains just as much as we do theirs. It is certainly an interesting time to be an American abroad considering the importance of this presidential election on all of Europe as well as the rest of the world. You cannot rule out the possibility a long conversation about US foreign policy no matter where you go, whether sharing a cup of tea with friends or a making a quick stop at the barber’s shop. It would be tough to decide whether I have spoken more with my professors about my area of research or the value of the Latino vote in Florida. Being in the limelight about these topics is an amazing opportunity to let the Irish see what everyday US citizens think about our government’s policies, hopefully erasing some of the ill will that lies between our culture and the rest of the world. I am sure that any American abroad cherishes this opportunity.

Finding a social outlet in Dublin is not a very tough chore. For our first month in the city Dublin was alive with an artistic influence because of the Dublin Fringe Festival and the Theatre Festival. Between plays and musical artists at the larger concert halls to the smaller independent theatre productions in venues as humble as converted garages, taking advantage of Dublin’s artistic culture was a pleasure. Also, I have found myself joining nearly every club at Trinity that has even vaguely interested me. Just to mention a few: Trinity Boxing, Intramural Soccer, Ultimate Frisbee, Volleyball, the Film Society, the Debating Society and the Pharmaceutical Society (I’m not sure how I got roped into that one). I decided that graduate school was a great time to try all the clubs that I never had any time for during college. I doubt that I will last in most of them, but nonetheless it has been fun.

Although it was a slow transition at first, my research in the conservation of historic buildings has recently taken off. Specifically, I am working with several properties of naturally hydraulic lime mortars, a topic that much to my surprise is not the most popular for dinner conversation. Therefore, I will spare you all from the details and only mention the more exciting parts. Basically, I am getting my hands dirty in the mud, occasionally culminating in the cutting of holes in historic buildings. Indeed, shortly I will visit my first 16th century castle in Ireland where I will make a few holes of my own. On the professional side, I am also looking forward to an internship in the near future with the Electricity Supply Board, one of Ireland’s largest energy companies.

Travelling around Ireland will continue to be one of the highlights of my two years in Ireland. Although I have spent most of my time exploring Dublin, I did visit Belfast and Derry in Northern Ireland last weekend. Derry is famous for the most extravagant Halloween celebration in Ireland, and after attending I stress that if you are in Ireland during the celebration then you must visit. Belfast, in line with its recently acquired reputation as a beautiful and modern city progressing out of a long age of violence, was also a great destination for the weekend.

I will leave you with a well known fact, but one that I am ecstatic to verify myself…that Guinness is magnificently better on this side of the pond! Plus, the people are as friendly and caring as any place I have ever lived. Hopefully, these truths will entice my friends and family from home to make the trip over to visit.

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