April 28, 2010

So, I have been traveling around Europe for the past 3 weeks. First I visited Anna in Ulm, Germany, birthplace of the White Rose resistence group, and home of the tallest Cathedral in the world. Of course we climbed all 700+ steps. I took pictures from every level to try to show how we were getting higher, but it didn’t really come out. At the very top we got stuck, since people were trying to circle the top in opposite directions, all moving towards us.

Next I went to France, first visiting Katie in Aix en Provence, where they are having the coldest temperatures ever! We tried to go to the beach one day, but couldn’t go in the water. I dipped my feet in a little, but it was really cold. We also took a boat tour of the Colanks (HUGE seaside cliffs).

After my visit with Katie, I went to Paris, then to Bruges. I fell in love with Bruges. It was weird seeing such a huge percentage of people on the streets walking with maps and obviously having no idea where they were. The Flems don’t seem to smoke past the age of around 15. I also found that after waking up at 7, eating breakfast and walking all day, a beer in the sun with a book is a perfect 5pm activity. I’m still amazed at how much European’s drink. While in Paris, we each had 3-4 glasses of wine with dinner every night.

I was sad to leave Bruges, but there were other cities to see, so a group of us headed out in the early morning to spend the day in Brussels before heading out to our next destinaitons. We went to the bar who is the current holder of the Guinness world record of number of beers to be purchased (or maybe number of beers on tap, I don’t really know or care). At the bar we met a couple of very drunk Belgians. Both men were probably in their mid-forties, and kept screaming “you know, here in Belgium we have a saying… do you want another drink, or do you want to fuck!” Everyone kept saying they just wanted to drink. The city of Brussels sort of gave me the creeps, so I walked quickly through it to the train stations where I journeyed to Rotterdam in the Netherlands. The first night, my roommate from Ireland was staying with a friend who offered to put me up as well. We made dinner (a dutch specialty of white asparagus, scrambled eggs, and bread and butter). The next day I wandered around Rotterdam, which really just meant finding a park, making a picnic, and sitting and reading all day. Then I went to Amsterdam, not originally part of my travel plans. I wandered around the city for 3 days. The first day, until I got myself oriented, I kept wandering into the red light district, which freaked me out. The first time I was caught completely unawares, I thought I had been heading away, when suddenly I looked at a store front and saw a mostly naked woman holding the window curtain open with one hand. This disturbed me much more than I thought it would, so I started walking quickly to leave the district, when hoards of people in red jerseys streamed out of the bars into the streets, singing Hava Nagila. I was so confused I forgot my shock of seeing prostitutes in windows, and stood to watch the football fans proceed to sing. The ENTIRE street joined in. Where did the Dutch learn Hebrew songs, and why???

Rotterdam hostel

March 26, 2010

I went to the UCC literary society for the first time last night. This sucks because there are only two meetings left, and I will be in Germany for one, but I also made some friends! There was a poetry reading first, and then afterwards everyone went out to a pub and hung out. The poet was a professor from Cambridge University in England. I find it really difficult to follow poetry when its read out loud, because I always want to go back and reread things. One thing I found really interesting was that the poet put lots of restrictions on his work. He wrote one poem for a friends 60th birthday. He went through novels and only took phrases containing the word “window” from page 60 of 60 different novels. I feel like I’m gonna want to write like that. It’s like giving yourself a prompt.

I went to the English Market (basically a big indoor farmers market) this morning to buy some bread. While there, I saw some “sausage rolls”. It reminded me of the hot dog scallion buns from the asian bakery on 2nd av. The roll today did not taste the same at all, but it was absolutely delicious!

March 22, 2010

This conversation happened a while ago, but I think it’s interesting. My friend Andrew asked if it was weird for me to be surrounded by so many white people all the time (since I’ve been here). I keep contrasting this conversation to the one I had with Dalya on Free Pancake Day at IHOP, when she asked me if it was weird being the only white person around.

Irish people listen to my kind of music. They are pretty obsessed with Tom Petty (totally awesome!), and pretty much every band I started listening to in the 6 months or so before I came here are Irish. Saturday night I went to a pub called Ziggy’s with my friends Iosmina and Stephen. It was a Saturday, so there we were some of the youngest people there (most UCC students go home on the weekends, so the city empty’s a little). Iosmina has an awesome bowler hat that almost everyone in the pub wanted to try on. They blasted good ol’ rock music all night. The best part of the night was when Twist and Shout came on, and half the bar got up to do the Twist.

Last night I went with Kristin, her sister, Iosmina, Stephen, and three of their French friends to a pub to listen to some Trad. It was a good bit of craic. The band had the entire bar clapping and stomping along to the music. It was also fun listening to people speaking a different language and trying to speak to them. That was an early bar, so when it closed at 11, we went to the Old Oak, where there was another live band. They were covering every great rock song ever, so it ended up being a really strange mix of songs, sounding a lot like my itunes shuffle. We started talking to the people at the table next to us. It was a birthday party, and they kept giving us chocolate, so I was completely ready to be friends. There was a British guy who bonded with us over not being Irish. He said he hates Irish people. I’ve always heard about how nice the Irish are, but I’m starting to think they’re only nice to other Irish people, because no one else in the world seems to like them, and I haven’t really been able to make friends with them, only other foreigners. But, at this other pub we go to (Fred Zepplin’s) is a hardcore club. All the live shows I’ve seen there have been death metal, and some of the patrons wear black and spikes and that kind of thing. The first night I went there, I tripped and knocked into some guys drink. I was expecting him to yell at me and make a big deal, but instead he apologized to me and asked if he spilled any on me. He was totally ready to ask the barman for paper towels. I never find that kind of nice in New York.

The Irish are very eager to disprove some stereotypes. I have hear 100 times that German’s drink just as much as the Irish, and that there is a higher percentage of French people with red hair. Crazy.

Lastly, tonight my friends boy-thing invited us to a concert at the school. Turned out to not exactly be a concert. Everyone got a songbook as they walked in. It was a shape-singing group. They sang Southern American religious songs. I had a really hard time following the words, singing the notes (which would be hard for me in any setting) and so I just sat back and listened. It was really nice hearing all these people sitting together using only their voices to rejoice in the glory of god. My friend was in shock the entire 2 hours, the “concert” was not at all what we were expecting, and I don’t know that I would go back, but it was fun to witness once.

March 18, 2010

We woke up bright and early for the “big day.” Mostly because Corrie is an early riser and Melanie had to write a paper before anything else happened. I had a slice of nutella bread to tide me over till real breakfast, which we had with our neighbors. We had decided to dye all the food green, so our meal ended up looking a lot like a story book meal rather than an Irish meal, but it was darn tasty. Scrambled eggs, rashers and green butter. Then the face paint came out and we went to the parade. I never really like parades, but I’m always very eager to see what happens next and I can’t bear to tear myself away from it. In fact, my friends all left to go to a pub, and I rushed back out to see the last couple of minutes of the parade, something not worth seeing at all. Somehow, I managed to leave my camera at home, so I forced to describe what I saw to you, and you all have to deal with reading the descriptions. There were two very interesting things I noticed about the parade. First: all (or at least some) of the different cultural communities represented in Cork marched together. Many wore traditional clothing and sang as they walked/danced along. The theme of this years parade was the ocean, the sea or pirates or something, the result of which being that I felt like I was in the Mermaid day parade, with less boobs of course, the Irish are not that obscene although many of them wish they were. There were giant puppets that scared many of my friends, but totally made my day. One man on stilts was dressed as a pirate with a giant parrot on his shoulder. The pirate’s back was very contorted and hunched, and he had a giant bulging eye, while the man in costume had his head inside the parrots, and he looked out through the parrots beak.Tons of little kids ran around in jester hats. There was a giant alligator with a girl strapped on top. She brandished her sword to the tune of Blondie’s “One Way Or Another.” The alligator had a fog machine, so it looked like it was moving through a bog. The environmentalist group marched as well. One little kid walked along dressed in a blue shirt, and blue overalls. He had a water droplet painted on his face, and a sign around his neck that read “I’m precious.”

After the parade we went to our new haunt, Fred Zepplin’s. I hate that word “haunt” but its really the best word right now. They had a trad band during the day. They played songs such as “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” and “This Land is Your Land” with the words all changed up so they were about Ireland. By the end of the song I had convinced myself that Woodie Guthrie did not write it, and it was really a traditional Irish song.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Kristen made me Mac & Cheese. Ireland does not know about Mac & Cheese, so this is a precious commodity. I also lead the way as we left FredZ, so I got the lunch that I wanted: Chicken Tikka Masala. There should be more Indian food here. There is however, a lot of Poles. There aren’t really Polish restaurants. I feel like this must have to do with the general Irish attitude towards Polish people which is not exactly positive. Yet there are lots of Polish stores that often have a hot food section in the back.

Saturday, March 6, 1010

Much has happened since last I wrote! I’m starting to have a hard time writing this. I want to write about the exciting things that I am doing, but everything is starting feel pretty routine, and lets say it, just like my life… my boring old life. My goal now is to not see my life as boring. Part of that being by telling this story; the story of my life. This is exciting. I like seeing new perspectives. I’m learning in my Celtic Literature class that the Otherworld of ancient Ireland was not really an Other world, like Christian’s generally believe Heaven to be. Even though most stories involve long voyages across or under the sea to get to this paradise, these voyages are more symbols for the mental journey a person must make to get to paradise. Right now I’m at that stage of understanding where I think I get it, and I almost get it, but I don’t really. So this explanation might be a bit muddy, but I really like this idea traveling to change your perspective. In one story, the noble hero was traveling the ocean in a boat (we would find this to be quite common sensicle) when he meets the ocean God traveling in a horse pulled chariot. The two have a conversation about how the other is traveling in the most ridiculous fashion. From the Gods point of view, the ocean is his kingdom, his land. The hero sees it as we would, as an ocean.

As for what I’ve been up to recently. I’ll start with the recently and move back through the week. This is a little embarrassing, but the main reason why I haven’t written in a while is because I have learned to be terrified of putting pictures up here. I want everyone to see them, but uploading them is the biggest pain ever!!! So I’m gonna put off uploading them a little longer. This week is the Cork French Film Festival. I went to see A Very Long Engagement on Wednesday. I don’t think I have ever seen a WWI movie in theaters, so it may just have been the effect of the giant screen (plus we were a little late so we got the crummy seats in front) but it was an emotionally intense experience. It’s from the same director/screen writer team who did Amelie. The screen writer was there for a question and answer session that was conducted in a mosh of English and French. I got to shake his hand afterwords. Goddard’s film Breathless was yesterday, but I wasn’t feeling to well, so I didn’t go, but Jules et Jim is today. There have also been Italian films shown at school every Tuesday night.

This week students have been gearing up student elections. Everyone gets really involved and knows a lot about each candidate. I’m really impressed, especially as I read about Hunter students vandalising instead of taking actual action when they don’t like something (ie: tuition hikes, turnstiles). Last year Cork students turned out for the biggest demonstration in a decade to force Pearson (that textbook company we love so well) out of their school, because they refuse to pay that much for textbook/homework website package. I’d agree with them on this account. The school newspaper ran half page ads on each candidate outlining their goals. The school president is like a real job. The student is asked to take a year out of their studies, and I heard through the grapevine, is paid 21.000 euro to do so! Each candidate has a team that wears matching shirts and runs around handing out flyers. I am amazed.

Thursday was National Health day or something, and there were lots of stands and presentations about Male Baldness, and STD/STIs, and of course a coffee stand. I got the best hot chocolate of my life at this little stand (here I have to stop and ask if I have my priorities in order. I simply glance over the information on STIs and go right to the hot chocolate? At least I noticed that poster at all). They used real milk, and real chocolate! There were even chocolate shavings on top! So exciting. There were even marshmallows because I have learned that when someone asks you if you want something in/on your food, and you can’t understand their accent, you smile and nod and see what happens.

Kinsale is the coolest town/city that we’ve been to so far. It was a super cute little sea side town. It really reminded me of Gloucester, only much older. We walked for an hour along the harbor until we got to Charles Fort. This was a five pointed fort, defended by the British until the 1920s. Most of the buildings were really old, and falling down, and some of them were completely filled with trees and brush.  I don’t really know how to describe it at all. I just really really liked it. I went with a really small group which was really nice. I went with my friend Kristin and Spencer. We got back to the bus stop really early, and sat in the freezing cold for almost two hours. All three of us totally passes out on the bus ride back. For lunch we stopped at a pub. I got fish chowder. I forgot to take a picture of it. Spencer and Kristin got burgers. It was really tasty. I want to go back. There was a path called “Breakheart Hill” which looked like a very steep uphill, but very nice walk.

Saturday we went to the Rock of Cashel with friend Kristen from Iowa and her roommates, who are mostly from Loyola in Maryland. There are about 30 people here from Loyola Maryland, and another 30 from a school in Minnesota. It’s hard to make friends with these people because they all just stick with each other. It was nice of them to invite us on this day trip, and some definitely tried harder than others to be friends with Corrie and myself. But they all definitely have their set group of friends. It was another absolutely gorgeous day! I tried to take pictures of the clouds and landscape, but its so hard taking pictures of big places. There were two main buildings that we went to see. First was the Rock of Cashel, which in fact is no rock at all. It was the castle where St. Patrick baptize one of the first Irish kings (he was one of the first Irish kings to convert to Christianity). Good ol’ Patrick jabbed his staff into the poor kings foot. The man didn’t say anything  because he thought the pain was part of the ceremony. At some point it was raided by the Normans, and later was given into the hands of the Irish church and became a monastery.

Cork experienced pretty serious flooding just before Christmas. In this flood, many buildings were pretty badly damaged, including the Mardyke Arena (the gym). On Monday, the gym was opened for the first time in two months! Of course I had to check it out. I went swimming today. It seemed as though half of Cork City was in that pool! Not really though. There are classes for little kids everyday from 3:30-5:30. Half the pool was blocked off for the lessons, so everyone was swimming in just half the pool. I never thought these words would come out of my mouth (or fingers), but Hunter spoiled me. I’m used to going down to the pool in just my towel and flip-flops, and being the only person in the pool. I also know most of the lifeguards, so I can stop and chat for however long I want to. Today was absolutely insane. I swam for 45min, and most of the time there were 4 people in my lane. Which meant I really couldn’t stop for any sort of break, because then we would all crash. We were all going at almost the same pace, which made me feel really good about myself since I don’t have goggles and was doing the froggy stroke (sometimes called the breast stroke). I then had the genus idea to get out of the pool when I felt really tired, which was 4:00. This may not mean all that much to you, but that third of the clock signified the end of the lesson, and the beginning of the next one. The room instantly filled with screaming eight year olds and their parents. There are group changing rooms, female/baby changing rooms, male/baby changing rooms, and individual changing stalls. The stalls all filled very quickly, or had strollers stuck in them to save them. The group changing room was jam packed with children, and the female/baby room was filled with mothers and their children. This may be my conservative American upbringing, but I found that I was very uncomfortable with the thought of changing in front of eight year old boys. Other than being totally weirded out by my first real gym experience, it was really nice to swim again.

Chinese New Year

To usher in the new year, I went to a celebration called “Peacock and Swan”, performed by students from Shanghai. It was a really interesting performance. First there were speeches by the Lord Mayor, Chinese ambassador to Ireland, and President of UCC, the college I am attending here. The speech by the ambassador was really funny, because both the Lord Mayor and the President of UCC are Mr. Murphy. So the poor Chinese guy had to say Murphy 5 times in one sentence. I have no idea why he said the name so many times. I went with my friend Andrew and Spencer (Corrie’s cousin from Switzerland). There were two MCs, one from the university in Shanghai and one from UCC. The Chinese girl mostly spoke in English, and the Irish guy mostly spoke in Chinese. That was really cool. It was also a common theme within the performance. There was a lot of singing and dancing, and then a bunch of Irish kids performed a song in Chinese. Then all the Chinese faculty and PHD students from UCC sang  The Red River Valley in Chinese, which was really weird, because I thought that Woody Guthrie wrote that, and it was in Chinese. Then there were some pretty bad jokes about the Chinese work ethic, and how they are on their way to early morning library study sessions while the Irish are going home to bed. The president also mentioned that every Chinese student at UCC was in the top 10% in their discipline, which I find hard to believe. There are totally slacker Asians out there. The second half of the show was mostly solo performances. I really like the Erhu. Then a Chinese guy came out and sang Danny Boy really beautifully. I liked watching people in the audiences reactions. The guy in front of my was aghast. He was not ready to believe that a Chinese guy could sing this Irish song, but he was pretty soon convince otherwise. Next was the Dragon Boat melody. The singer came out and attempted to explain the basic plot of the song in English. She did pretty well at first, but then she began speaking really quickly, and not didn’t really make a whole lot of sense. And poor Spencer, who speaks English really well, but he’s still not super comfortable with it, just burst out laughing. He was so confused.

I haven’t even talked about the Book of Kells yet! The first floor was a museum with a history of the Book and Christianity in Ireland. The second floor was worth the entire trip to Ireland!! It’s called the Long Room in the Old Library. Originally it was just one level. The shelves were placed about 8 feet apart, with a window about 6 feet wide in between each shelf. The entire building was covered in wood. In the 1800s, a second level was added to the library because there were too many books. An arched wooden ceiling was also added to replace the plastered ceiling that was there originally. For anyone who knows my house (probably only Maya…) it used to look a lot like the ceiling in Mom and Dad’s room, only the squares were much larger. All of the books in this particular library are really old. Before I even entered the room, I smelled it, and almost fainted. If there is a heaven on earth, that room is it. I had to sit down for a while to catch my breath before continuing on. At the end of each shelf (the part that stuck out into the room) was a bust of a famous author or philosopher. I didn’t know all of them, and most I had only heard of their names and didn’t actually know their ideas, but I was still awed. Being in the room also made me feel really insignificant. There is so much history here, and so many people in the world who are so interesting and smart and like to think about the world. We weren’t allowed to take photos, so I bought a postcard that you may see upon my return if you would like.

I think I did more whilst in Dublin, but I don’t remember anything else right now. Actually, I was talking to my Romanian friend about food. I was complaining about how processed all the food in the states is, and how much corn syrup is in everything and people like to buy food at farmers markets. She told me that in Romania people with money will only buy food at supermarkets as a sign of wealth. They will never buy from “peasants”. I was shocked! I had not really been aware that peasants still existed.

One more thing about Dublin. I was just looking though my friends pictures and we passed the statue of Molly Malone. I was excited, because this is someone I know a little bit about. My grandfather would be proud. I didn’t read the plaque, cuz my friends move pretty quickly and I probably spent too much time looking at something else. But you should all imagine me strolling down the streets of Dublin singing “In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty, that’s where I first met sweet Molly Malone. She drove her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow, singing cockles and mussels alive alive-o!” I believe the song says she was a fish monger (I don’t know what that is), and there is a rather sad ending, but I’ll let you youtube it and listen to the correct words. I think that’s it for Dublin… I never know how to end these things! I hate endings, they’re always so tragic!

Today I will talk to you about the rest of my trip to Dublin. After my friends left, and I was on my own, I got down to business. Since it was already Monday, I had missed any chance of going on the Dublin Literary Pub Crawl, which sounds like a perfect mix between really corney, funny, and interesting. From what I understand, you are taken around to different places in famous novels by Irish writers, or that take place in Dublin, you get drunk, and in  each place people act out the scene for you. Sounds fantastic right? Well I’m with all of you on this missed opportunity.

My first adventure was to Dublinia, the Viking museum. Museums here are big on being interactive. I stopped and traced my name in the Viking alphabet, found instructions to make a traditional Viking dress (which I am going to make when I get home), I forgot to take down notes for the shoes, otherwise I would probably have a pair of super fashionable Viking shoes as well! Dublin was the first Viking settlement, although Dublin does not get it’s name from them. Duvlinn (I don’t believe that is spelled correctly, I will check it later) is the old Irish word for Black Water. The pool that was in front of what is now Dublin Castle used to wind around the old Viking town/village. The museum made a lot of noise, which I don’t usually like. There were rooms set up the way Vikings were believed to have set up their homes. When I walked in, there would be a voice telling me the use of the fire in the middle of the room. On one wall was a poster with a head shaped screen cut into it. The poster explained about Viking way of life, while the screen illuminated to show a man’s face asking if you had the specific qualities necessary to be a Viking. I learned that I would not make a good Viking. If the poster freaked me out, I don’t think I would do well in hand to hand combat. While I write this, I imagine that I am actually talking to someone, which is making this hard to write. I keep swinging my arms and almost knocking my computer off my lap. I really just don’t have the words for how amazing this museum was, or how scared I was every time I turned corner. I think I half expected to see a Viking waiting to attack me with his ax!

St Micheal’s tower is this seemingly random tower connecting the museum to Christ Church next door.

I also went to the National Gallery, Library and Museum. The Gallery had a lot of paintings, mostly from Irish artists. Most of this art depicted historical events, and I felt like I was walking though an illustrated history textbook as I walked though the galleries. That makes it sound boring and as though I did not have a good time, that would be an inaccurate description. I really enjoyed the Gallery. The paintings didn’t seem overcrowded (I’m not exactly sure that this is what I liked about them, but there was something about these paintings that I found pleasing that I don’t usually find). The Museum had many partially preserved human remains that had been dug up in bogs. It is fascinating how archeologists can tell so much about who a person was in society based on their remains (mostly on how they were killed, but still). Moat of the people were from noble classes, and were probably killed because someone else wanted their position. I also found out about the history of Irish warfare. Ireland is a wet country full of bogs, so standard European (English and French) warfare was not very practical here. The heavy armor wearing and horse riding soldiers would have had a hard time getting anywhere. Light chainmail and foot soldier were much more practical. Also, Ireland has a history of underpopulation. Most wars did not involve the mass murder of people, instead the Irish simply tried to steal land though cattle raids. When they got ready to fight the English for their independence, they were fully unprepared (they probably had no notion of how to strategize a full on war).

The Library had an exhibit on WB Yeats. In the entrance, three panels were set up. Images were projected onto the screens, and famous Irish people were recorded reading some of Yeats’ poems. There were lots of letters to and from him, his journals, and videos about his life. He was a pretty cool dude, unhappy, but cool.

My last stop was to a cute little park, where I found the Oscar Wilde statue. Apparently the house where he grew up was across the street, but it started snowing as soon as I got to the statue, and I decided not to wander the street looking for the house. Across from the state were two smaller statues perched on pillars which were covered in Wilde quotes. I fell that it was quite appropriate that it started snowing just then, I don’t know why though. Although I did not find Wilde’s house, I did find Jonathan Swift’s door.

My internet totally sucks!!! I had just written 500 words, and then the internet stopped working and the blog thing made me sign in again and everything was deleted. I’m going to try to replicate what I wrote before but I doubt it will be as funny.

I haven’t written in a while, but I have a really really good excuse! I just returned last night from a 6 day trip to Dublin. I left with 8 of my friends on Friday, they all returned Monday morning, and I stayed by myself for another 3 days. This turned out to be a most excellent idea. Crowds aren’t exactly my thing, and 8 people almost never agree upon anything (we did all want to see the Book of Kells at Trinity College). But I did most of my sightseeing and exploring on my own. Before I go on to talk about the Book of Kells, I’m going to give you a little tidbit about Trinity College.

Trinity College was constructed under the rule of Queen Elizabeth I, Protestant majesty of England. To this day, there is a provision in the charter of this great learning institution that if a student were to look out of one of the small windows at the top floor, and that student happened to look down into the courtyard and see a person whom they knew for fact to be a Catholic, that student would then be required to shoot at said Catholic with their crossbow. Someone doesn’t like Queen Elizabeth all that much!

I don’t really want to talk about the Book of Kells again. I’ll try to update it later. But basically, The Book of Kells is supposedly the most beautiful book in the world.

We stayed in this really really nice hostel pretty close to the city center. We were right across the street (and around the corner) from St. Stephen’s Green. This is a very famous park where people used to get flogged and hanged and stuff, but now is really pretty and has a big lake in the middle. It is a lot less foresty and a lot more park-like than Central or Prospect parks. Everything seems to be exactly in place. On a map of Dublin, this park seems quite large, but the map is deceptive. Indeed it is simply that Dublin is quite small. The hostel was filled with Italian, French, and Spanish people. Most were there to see the Rugby match (Ireland creamed Italy. What What!) Some were there by accident, like us. Everyone was super friendly. There was a street that started just across from the entrance to the Green called Grafton. This was an interesting street because it is generally closed to cars. The sidewalk extends from one storefront right up to the other. There were lots of familiar name stores here (such as TopShop, McDonalds, Burger King, McDonalds), some now familiar Irish chains, and random stores. It was off this street that I found the most amazing place on earth! It’s called The Secret Bookshop. There’s a sign with the name outside a door for a hair salon. The hair salon is upstairs, the long corridor brings you to the book/record shop. There were records, tapes, Cds, new and used all in bins in the center of the room. The books were stacked in shelves along all the walls. Every book looked interesting, every CD enticing. AHHHhh!!!! It was heaven on earth!

Next stop was Dublin Castle. This is a very strange building with a very strange history. It was built by the English to watch over the Irish. The statue over one of the main gates is of Justice. This is a very controversial statue which made every Irish person I saw talk about it red with anger (and since they’re so pale they actually turn red). The first problem is that the statue is facing inward, towards the court, rather than out on the people. Why do the people who make the rules need justice? Second problem, the statue is lacking the blindfold that generally symbolizes her objectiveness. Third problem: the sculptor decided it would be cool to make the scales actually work, unfortunately the statue was placed outside subject to the elements, and in a country where it rains everyday of the year, the scales would constantly not be constant. This was remedied a few years ago when some one drilled holes in the scales to let out the water. The castle was first built in the 1600s. The British stored their gunpowder incorrectly at some point, and blew most of the structure up. There is only one remaining original tower. It was rebuilt during the Georgian era, and added on to in the Victorian. A Cathedral was added in the 1920s, so there are many very beautiful, but very different types of buildings all in this one building. When you go around to the back, the castle is painted different colors. It makes no sense.

Walking around the castle was a bit unsettling. There were so many symbols of England’s mighty power over Ireland. Although it made me uncomfortable, the experience made me want to visit Northern Ireland to experience the atmosphere there. Especially if I were to go to a Catholic majority area.

Sunday I met up with my good friend, Katie Kline’s friend Ilsa and her roommates. The three of us caught the Dart to Bray (about half an hour outside Dublin) and went for a walk. The morning fog was a little daunting, we couldn’t even see to the top of the hill! But we trudged on anyway. We followed the path around two hills, and then decided to go up to the top to find an easier way back to the town. I found out that even though I walk a lot in the city, going uphill on grass is quite difficult. Consequently, I do not have many photos of this day.

We went out Friday night, and found out just how expensive Dublin really is. I only brought 5euro out, so I couldn’t spend very much money, but my friends were buying shots and pints for 6. This was upsetting, especially since the Irish people next to us would only be asked to pay 4. I keep forgetting that I am a tourist here. I’m so used to making fun of them. At home, when I’m embaressed about not knowing where I am and I have to ask directions, I sometimes put on a fake accent so the person will think I’m a tourist. And I do that here too! Even though I don’t have to put on an accent since I’m already a tourist! I’m so silly. Someone made fun of me in Dublin because of it. He asked if I knew what a cobblestone was. I was offended.

I also went to the Guinness Storehouse. It was really just a big museum that gave you a free pint as a reward for patiently looking at all the machinery and advertising through the ages. It should have been interesting, but I realized that I really just don’t care how beer is made. I did, however, get to pour my own pint. That was a pretty “room temperature”.

I’m really sleepy now. I’ll add another post tomorrow! Good night world!