Week Update

This is the longest I've gone yet without writing a post on here, and I've missed it. I would say it's been a week because I've been so busy, but let's be honest, what have I actually done this week? Aside from going out half the nights from about 7 til 4 am, spending way too many euros each time, and peering sadly down at my wallet each morning wondering if I still have enough money after all those pints to afford myself a 3 euro Maguire's footlong tuna sub, I can't say I've really been that busy.

The schooling system at Trinity is quite hilarious. First, it's safe to say it's inefficient and old. I've already described what it takes to register for class. Now I only have class for a total of 8 hours per week, with a very, very minimal amount of homework to compliment each lecture. Thus I've been pushing myself to become creative with my time, to laugh more, to take long walks with company and without around this great city, and kick back and relax without the worry and bother of getting through coursework night after night with the incessant ghosts of demanding professors haunting my dreams.

That said, classes are all great and I'm definitely learning a lot about things I currently know absolutely nothing about (did you know that George Herbert wrote emblematic poetry? I didn't either).

After last weekend in Galway we all decided that we'd much rather find the cooler, more local pubs and hangout spots in the city rather than the more Americanized hip-hop clubs that we usually find ourselves attracted towards. Much pub crawling happened throughout the past week, and it was good.

Wednesday was Australia Day, the day when Australia finally gained independence from overseas superpowers. I went with Andrew and his friend Abby from high school to a pub/club where all the Dublin Australians were celebrating. The place was packed and full of drunk and crazy Australians. They had everything here from blow up kangaroos to wet t-shirt contests to line dancing.

But my favorite discovery this week was going to the Temple Bar district for the first time on Friday night. Luckily, this week was "Trad Fest," or the traditional music festival, so most pubs had live traditional music. This is a major section of Dublin right next to the Liffy River that is filled with clubs, pubs and restaurants. The nightlife is great, and caters to literally all ages. We had eaten dinner at a Fish n' Chips place (where else) that had been there since 1913 and it was great. However, they did charge 50 cents for little individual cups of ketchup. When the man asked me for my 50 cents, I stood at the counter counting up my change one coin at a time, until I reached about 38 cents and the guy told me it was enough. After that we went went pub crawling and our first real stop was at the actual Temple Bar pub. Not only is this place old (150 years old) and very large, but it was also packed and it was hard for us to move around. The place is covered with photos, bottle caps, ceiling streamers, statues, tables and booths, all cluttered in a matrix of interconnecting indoor and outdoor rooms. In the middle of a bar was a stage where two people were on guitar and singing. I was happy when they started to play my current favorite, "Galway Girl" and I knew enough of the lyrics to somewhat (shittily) sing along. You know you are becoming a resident of a place when you can sing along with all the other locals in their bars.

From Temple Bar we went to a cool place called Fitzsimon's where we spent the next four or so hours. More live music was going on their, and afterwards three performers got on stage and gave us a traditional Irish dance show. You haven't seen feet move so fast until you've seen Irish dancing. At various parts in the show they pulled up audience members to participate, and Brad being his goofy self was of course the first volunteer. He went head-to-head against an Asian guy who looked so confident he didn't even take off his coat. Brad destroyed him anyway in what seemed like his own version of You Got Served. Never underestimate the Irish Jew. Later that night Andrew went up on stage as well. If only I had my camera with me this part of the post would have been slightly more entertaining.

After this the lead dancer pointed out that these matchmakers from Claire County were there and if anyone was interested in being set up they should go talk to them. I was intrigued by these people so went up to introduce myself. The matchmaker is an older man, set in his ways, soft-spoken with a thoughtful demeanor. He showed me his matchmaker book, which is actually a 200 year old portfolio of profiles that had been passed down to him from the last matchmaker and so on. They said that the profiles at the bottom of the portfolio were of people who were most likely dead at this point. I was about to ask him why he didn't clean the portfolio out, but then thought better of it. You don't question a wise old man, ever.

Saturday was great. My dear friend Alan from back home met a 24-year old woman named Beata at a resort in Jamaica over winter break who happens to work for Google in Dublin (largest European headquarters). He gave me her contact info and on Saturday, after weeks of back and forth texting, we finally got together. We went out to lunch at a really good Asian restaurant called Yakamori and were there for quite a while. She explained what she does for Google, and how awesome it is to work for them. Google sounds like a dream job. After lunch we met up with Brad and hung out in her apartment for a while, where I was introduced to the exciting world of Couch Surfing. It is a really cool idea and if done right seems safe enough (and free!). I had a great time with her and we're planning on going to Couch Surfing game night on Wednesday to meet some CS randos. Should be interesting.

After hanging out with Beata, Brad and I bought train tickets to get back home because we're lazy. I bought the wrong ticket (the 3.10 instead of the 1.80). In order to not feel scammed out of my money I stayed on the train past our stop until the train reached the end of the line, and I got off there. I walked around for about an hour, but because it was nighttime there wasn't much to do. I wandered and found some nice parks and homes, then got back on the train and came home.

Yesterday I met up with four other people I'm going to Spain with over Reading Week and we made some plans. It's going to be an awesome trip. Then on a whim I booked a flight to Edinbrugh, Scotland for this Thursday (only 41 euros!) to hang out with my other dear friend Jenny. Traveling is awesome, especially with Ryanair (unless I get there Thursday and find out it's all one big scam). Anyway, these were the highlights of the week.

A Couple Brief Announcements with a Trip Down Memory Lane

Well obviously the last two days weren't as exciting as Galway, but there have been a few major developments since yesterday that I would like to share.

Yesterday two very important things happened. The first: I got a new camera (shout out to Mom), so the pictures will begin coming in massive quantities. Second, I am officially announcing that I got an internship in New York City for the summer! I'll be interning for Commentary magazine, so if anyone reading this will be there, please let me know.

I had two classes today: John Milton and John Donne. The professors for both classes are unbelievably smart, and it's going to be pretty challenging to keep up with them throughout the semester, but that's a good thing. The professor for the John Donne class is a well known Irish poet, and is so cool that you probably won't be able to sound out her name and she even has her own Wikipedia page! It should be a great class.

But here comes the most exciting news: I, Brett, have today committed myself to running a 5K race the day after St. Patrick's Day (shout out to Yoni Silverman)! Now I know what some of you are probably thinking--a 5K isn't that hard. Yet if you look at my dismal, pathetic athletic (dare I say) career, this is actually sort of a big deal. I've come a long way since my days as a 5th grade, zero stamina child who ran the mile around the Solomon Schechter track wearing khaki pants I out-fatted in the 3rd grade and clocked in my mile time at a ripe 12:54 minutes (I literally clocked that time, and blamed it on my asthma, which--only known to myself, my parents and Dr. Cahan--was fairly mild and primarily induced by my love handles). I then ditched school on mile run days in the 6th and 7th grade out of utter physical ineptitude, and was given B's in PE on my report cards (shout out Mr. C and Mr. K) . My finest athletic achievement was probably wrestling Freshman year of high school, where I won (count 'em) three matches--one of those was because the other team forfeited on my weight class. Wrestling preceded my career as a pole vaulter (I never got passed the 7 ft mark, then was kicked off the next year when the new coach observed that I couldn't climb the rope) which then gracefully flowered into my next calling as a shot put/discus thrower (all the stereotypes for this field activity are true). Then there was basketball Junior year of high school, where the assistant coach Stu one day toward the end of the season took me aside and asked in an almost paternally sympathetic fashion, "You seem like a nice guy, but why are you here?"***

Recently (about a month ago, shout out to Fairall/Clayburn/Cameron) I have started to seriously get on a running schedule and run treadmill three times a week. In any case, 5k is the Sunday after St. Pat's Day, and if my plans for the holiday go as I predict they will, this should be a fine 5k Hangover race. More updates to come as the training will officially commence tomorrow.

Anyway, that's all for now. Hope you enjoyed that outlined trip down memory lane.

***"I shall be telling this with a sigh/Somewhere ages and ages hence"--Frost. Seriously though, please note that I look back on these memories, though inglorious, as comical and not sad. Those days are over...I think.

Weekend Trip to Galway

Well, what can I say? Galway was unbelievable. Since we stayed at a youth hostel I didn’t bother to bring my computer along, so now I’m going to try to chronicle the last three and a half days of the trip.

Brad and I left on Thursday, a day before the rest of our group went. The train ride was very nice, and when we got there we found our way to Sleep Zone, the hostel, and checked in. The people working at the desk were great. The first was an Italian man. I heard some loud noises coming from a large room next door to the desk and asked him if there was a restaurant over there. He gave me a funny look, let out an emphysema-ridden laugh, and responded in a somewhat heavy, accent, purely sarcastic, “Ohhh yeah, right next to our pub, live music and barber shop. No, no I kid, it’s just a kitchen, nothing special.” The other attended was a great French woman named Frieda. She’s lived all over the world and works the evening shift. She told Brad and I that we had to meet Matt, an American working at the Sleep Zone in Connemara. She showed us a care package full of booze that she was sending him with the bus driver leading the Connemara tour, and that when the driver stops to give Matt the package we need to meet him. Sleep Zone feels more like a hotel than a hostel (I give it high ratings) and the people staying there were also from all over the world.

After this, we got fish and chips at a well-known place called McDonaugh’s. After that we went to a pub called Roisin Dubh, where two bands played. They were both excellent, especially the second band called the Dying Seconds. We met two girls there who are going to Galway University, one has a music blog and the other is from Germany. We had a good time. After both bands were done we called it a night and went back to the hostel.

The next day we got up early and bought tickets for the tour to Connemara. I don’t know how to accurately describe this place, but I know that paradise does exist in patches all over the earth, and one of those patches is Connemara. As Frieda told us, its beauty increases with poor weather. Though the weather on Friday was truly terrible, the mist surrounded the peaks and cliffs of the mountains on which grew the greenest grass I’ve ever seen. All along the mountains were dry stone walls, sheep, cows, small cottages.

We made a few stops, including an abandoned and ruined church, fed a horse named Joey some apples, and saw some of the most brilliant panoramas. We also went to a place called Kylemore Abbey, built in the 1800’s as a tribute to Margaret Vaughan, a woman who fell in love with Connemara and had an extremely wealthy husband to fund for a mansion there. It was later turned into a private school for girls and still functions as one to this day. We met many people on the tour, many of whom go to Galway University. The tour guide, Michael, was hilarious as well. By the way, we also met Matt.

With Matt

Ross Errilly Friary

Fairy Tree (People tie strips of clothing to it for good health)

Kylemore Abbey

When we got back to Galway we met up with the rest of our group. About 20 people from our program decided to go to Galway this weekend, and it was a blast. Galway is a small town with great pubs on the main street, and everyone had a great time. We met a lot of local people, many people like us who there abroad, and live music was happening everywhere. It was one big party.

The next day we woke up and went on another day trip to the Cliffs of Moher. When we got on the bus there was one too many people than regular seats. I got the last regular seat, while one of my friends was left standing in the aisle. I gave her my seat and the bus driver led me to the front to sit in the pilot seat, AKA the awkward seat that folds up at the top of the bus stairs. Everyone was laughing. The bus driver, Desmond, was a hilarious old man, around his mid 70’s and about five feet tall. Over the course of the tour he went from funny grandfather figure, to senile old man, to dirty old man, to filthy old man. Though he’s been giving tours for 18 and a half years, much of his dialogue revolved around jokes with heavy sexual connotations. For example, “I ate oysters earlier today which are very strong aphrodisiacs, so ladies, look out for old Desmond.” This was funny, somewhat charming. Later as we passed a cottage he points out and says, “If you’re looking for a perfect honeymoon spot, I am the landlord of that cottage and will rent it to you. But if you rent it, ladies, I am expecting a tax benefit.” But the worst of it was when we passed by the bottom of a cliff and he pointed to the wall and told us that that was where he used to make love to all the woman. Oh Desmond, you crazy old bastard. God bless you.

Before the cliffs we stopped for lunch in a very small town. My friend and I wandered around a bit and found a really awesome book and Irish music store. Inside the book section—which was just a small room filled with old and dusty books—we met a woman named Cindy. Cindy is originally from New York and moved out here 30 years ago to be with her husband. She raised children here and told us about her experiences living in the small town. As her kids were growing up the town was so tightly knit that everyone was accountable for everyone’s children. She said that if one of her children ditched class she’d get a call immediately from one of the townspeople reporting that they saw her child not in school. What I also found to be particularly interesting was that back 30 years ago, no one in the town was obliged to question the priest or the doctor. Cindy said she used to speak up to the priest, which she said was seen as “wild.” The priest during his sermons used to get up and speak about particular people in the community and the wrongs they were committing. Though he never used names, the town was so small that everyone always knew who he was talking about, whether he’d mention their bad relationships or the fact that they weren’t giving enough charity. She says that things are much different now and she’s grateful for it, and then added: “I feel bad for my kids though. When I grew up all you had to know was that there is a good and an evil in the world and that you are only supposed to do good. It’s so much more complicated than that now.”

After lunch we finally got to the cliffs. This place is truly marvelous. Because this post is getting long, I’ll just post a picture to describe it.

Besides the views, the best part was the wind on the cliffs. At a certain summit the wind is so strong that you literally can’t run against it. The whole scene was like a sledding hill. Everybody was running around, falling over, laughing, jumping, racing. It was good craic. The cliffs are also the sight for parts of many well-known movies such as the Princess Bride and Harry Potter.

We then drove back to Galway. I met the person who was sleeping in the bed under me at the hostel and we explored Galway a bit. His name is Tim and he is a 25 year old PT student from Evansville, IN. As we were talking we passed by some street musicians (one played Bob Dylan covers) and he asked me if I played any instruments. I told him I used to play piano on and off. Then this led into a long retelling of my experiences with my piano teacher, Barbara Rogers, who I met when I was 7 and had one of the most intriguing stories I’ve ever heard. I told him all about her, and at the end admitted that I hadn’t really talked about her in years, but that she had a major impact on me and I still think about her quite often. “It’s amazing how your paths crossed like that,” he said. And he was right.

I met up with everyone after that and we had another great night. It started off by drinking a full 2 liter bottle of 3.50 euro cider since I already spent most of my Galway budget. We started the night with a group of IES people who then went out before we did, then finished by moving to the floor of our 10-person hostel room. After this we met up with the first group at a pub called Crane’s, which is down the street from Roisin Dubh. We went to the second floor where a ten person band was sitting in a circle around a group of tables playing Irish folk music. They would all play a song that would go on for about 15 minutes with the same measure over and over again. I’m still trying to figure out how they all knew how to stop playing at the exact same time when the song was decidedly over. Anyway, we had a great time there, then went to a few other places with live music. The nightlife in Galway is great. Two great Irish songs I discovered this weekend are Whiskey in the Jar and Galway Girl. Enjoy!

On Sunday I had a pretty interesting experience. Some of the people I came to Galway with took an earlier train back to Dublin, but I wanted to explore Galway more. I took a long walk alongside the coast. I wrote down a few observations along the way: two toddlers staring at each other curiously from separate strollers around a red coat mother in the middle; large fields; a lighthouse under surveillance; famine monument where people escaped from hunger; woman lifting dog by collar over wall; stroller parade. I walked to the end of the shoreline where there were two cliffs. I later found out that they are known as the Jenshen (sp?) cliffs. It was a little bit of a struggle to get there, as I had to trespass a trailer park and walk down some private residential streets, over half a mile of rocks and boulders, ford some creeks, but I made it finally. I got to the top of the cliff, padded over with lush green grass, and the view made the trip worth it. This place also looked like paradise to me. I sat at the edge where there was a small groove for my legs and wrote a little bit.

I saw a man sitting a little ways back up the cliff and decided it would be a good idea to go talk to him. His name is Adrian Turner, a 59-year old architect who lives with his mother in Athlone county. He was wearing a black and white plaid beret, a greenish-brown coat with black scarf, brown corduroys, wool socks and black shoes. He used to work in Johannesburg, South Africa and left a few months after Nelson Mandela’s release from prison. He had a sandwich cut in quarters and a turquoise thermos filled with soup. This man also cursed like an Irishman, had the characteristic angry undertones in his speech when talking about the IRA, and I took an immediate liking to him. We talked for about 45 minutes on the cliff. Eventually we got on the subject of Palestinians and Israelis and I asked him what Irish people thought of it. He admitted he didn’t know much, but thought that Muslims and Jews were such similar people that he couldn’t understand why the conflict exploded in the way it did. Finally he asked me if I had any Jewish connections, and I told him I was very observant. “Oh, shiat Brett,” he said, “sweet Jesus I hope I didn’t say anything to insult ye!” He didn’t and if he had I wouldn’t have been offended. Talking to people like him is part of why I came to Ireland in the first place, and I told him that. It got cold and I took him up on his offer to drive me back in his 2003 Nissan to the town center so I could catch my train. His ride saved me a good hour of walking, which I needed in order to be at the station on time. When we got back to the town center I shook his hand, “Good luck to ye, Brett,” he said as I stepped out of the car, then drove away. And it’s interesting how that happens. I had just spent a little over an hour with Mr. Turner, getting to know him, learning his life story, what he knows about politics, how he fits into the job market, the fact that he “has an interest in all people,” and yet I know for certain that I will never see him again. I’ve been thinking about that a lot on this journey, and I thought about it again when I said goodbye to Frieda in the youth hostel. What Tim said holds true: it’s always interesting how certain paths cross, whether it’s meant to happen or not. It was a fluke that I met Adrian Turner at the top of that cliff, and I will remember him for a long time. It’s the people as much as the place that make an experience so interesting and memorable.

Galway is a really wonderful place and I’m hoping to come back to hike the mountains in the near future.

Tomfoolery

Yesterday I went to my first class called "From Viking Raiders to Warrior Crusaders." We didn't do much but explore the prof's bibliography, then got an assignment to define what is meant by the word "Viking." I had time between classes so I went to the library to do this assignment, and to my dismay found out that Wikipedia had shut down for the day. Aside from my frustrations with having to plagiarize elsewhere (Encyclopedia Britannica), I actually thought this was a brilliant protest. Everybody uses Wikipedia, and yesterday I heard a lot of people talking about its Blackout. That's definitely one great display of power.

Next class was called "Irish Writing 1890-1945." It's unclear whether we will actually be reading books for this class or just listen to lectures about the authors themselves. The lecturer was very interesting though.There were many theories during this time period concerning the lifestyle of writers. For example, Bernard Shaw and some others felt that it was necessary to not be a citizen of one place, but to have a "metropolitan domicile," so many of them left Dublin for London and never returned, though they maintained their Irish culture and wrote about Ireland throughout their careers. Others, like Yeats, thought that the writer belonged on an island that lacked the civilization that London and Paris had, in order to give a voice to the voiceless. Sounds lofty enough. In any case, this class is very interesting--at least I think so.

After class I went back to the gym again, trying to get back to my routine from the end of last semester.

Last night was really fun. About 20 people went to this girls dorm for a pre-party, freshman style. Then we all went back to MssRs Maguire (where I lost my coat that one time) and were there for a few hours. In the middle of the hubbub these two Irish (I'd call them gentlemen, but they weren't) tried hitting on every girl in the group. It made them fairly uncomfortable but it was mildly entertaining. At one point, one of the guys feel on top of his friend and he showed plumbers crack (ultimate douchey faux-pas), and tried redeeming himself by head-butting my friend in the face. Tensions got high and we started to leave. My friend got all riled up in a way wholly similar to a raging dog. As we left the place, the two Irishmen followed our group for a while but finally gave up. I then had a lovely conversation with my friend who got head-butted on the wonderful primitive instincts that come along with fighting, unless of course this happens.

I came back home and Skyped with a few different people, sent out some semi-important emails I probably should have waited to send this morning, and finally went to sleep around 4, waking up five hours later with a massive headache and a buzz. I have two classes today and am then getting on the train for Galway. It should be an excellent weekend.

Wanderings

Today started with the freshman feeling and ended with elation. I woke up this morning and tried finding where my morning class was online. It was nowhere to be found, partly because I don't understand the website, and because I didn't prepare well. In any case, I get to school and go up to the English Department. Turns out my class was off campus, and by the time I got there I was a half hour late. Hoping not to disturb, I walk in the door (which happens to be at the front of the classroom) and the professor immediately stops lecturing to greet me. He asks me my name, then asks the class to rewind 5 minutes to catch me up on what they were talking about. He was nice about it but it was still embarrassing. On the way out I also knocked over a desk. In any case, the class is on John Milton, and the professor is very interesting.

After class I decided to go on a an adventure through Dublin. I hadn't wandered at all alone yet, and I was in the mood to. I wasn't really sure how far I'd go, but my rule with wandering is that I look up at the rooftops of distant buildings in opposite directions, and whichever roofs look more endearing I move toward. I ended up walking through Dublin for 3 hours, covering many, many miles on the way. This is what I literally love doing most, and now I have a much better feel for the city. I also saw some really interesting places on the way. I walked through Dublin City Hall, through the National Botanic Gardens, around countless shops, antique stores, convenience stores, and even explored University College Dublin's campus. After a while I definitely had no idea where I was, which was great, really, and tried finding a map. Not one place I entered sold a map. Part of this adventure consisted on getting tips from mapless stores where a map might be sold, going to the recommendation, and then being pointed somewhere else. Finally during hour three I asked a nice Dubliner how the bus system worked, then took the number 13 back to the city center. Along this trip I had my computer in my backpack and my newly purchased edition of John Milton's complete works (weighs over 5 lbs.). I think my favorite stop was the Botanic Gardens. The green houses on sight look like miniature versions of the Crystal Palace.

When I got back to the city center I stopped at a pub/restaurant called the Gin Palace. I had a great plate of fish and chips, a Guinness, and did homework for my John Donne class. This place is decorated beautifully, some walls gilded, a portion of the floor set in mosaics, and red upholstering on the furniture. I'll definitely be going back there.

Tonight we went to one of the girls' apartments and made travel plans. This weekend we are going to Galway (from Thursday to Sunday). Should be a great time. We also started making plans for a Vienna, Prague, Berlin trip. There are so many places to go, and it's so exciting to start planning for it. After planning we hung out for another couple of hours, got extremely slap happy and destressed from the day. If you clicked on the Debbie Downer link above, it's there because we watched this SNL skit tonight, which is hilarious. Enjoy!

First Day of School

I apologize for not writing the last two days. I wish there was an exciting reason for why I didn't, but the reality is because we took it very easy. Having spent the last two weeks constantly doing things, we decided to relax and spend most of the time indoors. We went out Saturday night to The Barge, but that's the extent of the excitement.

But now we've hit the real world. School started today and I had one class (which I will be dropping). Before class I spent about two hours at the immigration office getting my student identity card. It is sort of like being in a worse version of the DMV, where the people are much slower and there are fewer of them. There was a funny mix of people there as well. People from literally all over the world who are trying to stay in Dublin to work. I also met some other abroad students who were there. On the news was the story about that cruise ship that capsized. Though it happened a few days ago this was the first time I heard about it and was fascinated. I got my card, finally, and headed back to campus for class.


The class is called "The Book" and has to do with the history of the book from when it began to the present. When finding the class I got that new freshman feeling all over again. I walked into the building, packed with people I didn't know, and the numbering system on the doors is such that I was completely lost. Then the room the class was supposed to be in was moved. There were two other Irish students who were as confused as I was, but we found the room together. I met one of the girls, who in a most eloquent way said that "one who studies at Trinity gets a dual degree in navigation as well." I am still enamored with these accents, and still find myself falling in love with every Irish girl I meet. It's not hard to. Today I heard a lecture on the history of copyrights. I'm dropping it because that would leave both my Fridays and Mondays open for travel, which as an abroad student is very precious time.

After class I met up with my friend Evan and we went to the Trinity workout facility. It's really nice in there, and was also packed. I'm trying to get back on my normal workout routine that I had before Ireland.

After that we went back to Evan's floor and I met two of the other people who live there. One is another exchange student from Penn, and the other is a senior from Belfast. Really great people. We hung out in the floor kitchen for about an hour.

That's basically what happened today--nothing too exciting. Now everybody's starting to talk about travel plans. We're thinking about Galway this weekend.

Traveling Outside the City Limits

Yesterday morning when we got to Trinity we all loaded onto the bus and went to Glendalough. Glendalough is an old monastery where monks used to live. There is quite a rich history in this place, from the old cemetery with tombstones dating back to the medieval era until the present, to the old churches and crypts. There is a famous lookout tower on the cemetery grounds as well, where the monks would watch for approaching vikings. The vikings used to attack the monastery quite often, and the steep hills and surrounding valleys served as protection for the monks when the vikings would pillage them. The scenery here is gorgeous. While my camera is still broken, Brad took pictures and I'm attaching some below. The views speak for themselves.

Cemetery at the monastery

The lookout tower. The walls are a meter thick

Lower Lake at Glendalough
At the Upper Lake

After Glendalough we got back on the bus and went to Wicklow, a small town about a half hour away that reminded me somewhat of Safed in Israel. We all got lunch there. I had mushroom soup and then fish and chips. It was fantastic. Then we took a tour of the Wicklow Gaol. This was the kind of place where the tour guides dressed up like prison keepers from the 1800's. The jail was pretty cool, but definitely meant for a younger audience. There were a lot of mannequins set up in the different cells, and a few facts inscribed on the walls. I liked Wicklow a lot and it was nice to see some life outside of Dublin.

Last night was great. We decided to make a potluck dinner between four different apartments and then two more people from the program. There were 13 of us total. I made my special pasta with vegetables and and cous cous. Other dishes at the potluck included beef stew (couldn't eat it, obviously), homemade potato chips, asparagus, bruschetta, garlic bread, stirfried vegetables, and these delicious strawberries filled with cheesecake batter. Lots and LOTS of carbs. Of course we had lots of wine and other alcoholic units. This went on for a couple of hours and it was a lot of fun. We're planning on doing more of these potlucks in the future. Here are some pics:

Group shot

Yeah...

After the potluck we went to this pub called Porterhouse and talked to some of the locals there. I talked to these two guys, one of whom knew who Tim Tebow is and who claims to gamble a lot on the NFL. He bought my friend and me some drinks, which the Irish like to do. I had an absurd conversation with someone else about how awesome it would be to get drunk with the Pope (this sounds random, and in context it was. Someone had made some comment about Catholics), because it would be you the Pope and God just chilling in the Vatican. The guy was loving this and laughing uncontrollably. It ended when his friend said, "Ye, but who the f*** cares about religion anyway?" (This anecdote sucks but I'm keeping it here anyway) Well, drunk nights and foolish plights, it was a good time nonetheless. My friend wanted to find herself an Irish husband, but disappointingly didn't. We left when they closed and I finally went to sleep at 4:30. Great day yesterday. We're planning on taking it easy today.

Today was my ideal kind of day. It started off with three lectures (two of which were extremely interesting) on the Irish economy, Irish art, and the last on Jonathan Swift. They were a major uplift from yesterday, and I didn't fall asleep (actually I did during the first lecture, but then had two cups of Costa coffee). After that we found a sandwich place where you can buy a footlong for 3 euro. I'll definitely be hitting that up often.

After that we got a tip off from the Jonathan Swift lecturer about a bookstore on O'Connol street that sells books for very cheap. We went and looked around, and after that went to this awesome coffee shop called 3FE. My friend Andrew, who--among other things--is a coffee connoisseur, introduced me to what an espresso should really taste like. This espresso functioned as espresso is meant to function. While it sits in your cup, the enzymes within denature at a rapid pace. The first sip tastes like regular espresso. After about one minute, the second sip literally, as if by magic, tastes like a patch of raspberries. I was shocked and pleased. Then it becomes more acidic so you have to finish it up before it becomes too strong. Along with a great cup of cappuccino it's a winning combination. We then sat in this coffee joint for about 3 hours, talking and reading. I'm almost done with my Socrates book by Paul Johnson. I highly recommend it to anyone remotely interested in Socrates or ancient Greek philosophy.

This coffee place was also connected to a small book store, music store, and barber shop. I talked to the owners of both the book and music stores. The book store owner is starting his freshman undergraduate year at Trinity--he is at least in his late 20's. When he told me I smiled and actually said, "Well, better late than never," then quickly realized how douchey that sounded. He laughed it off but I could tell he was slightly thrown off. Win some, lose some.

The music store owner was this Irish hipster with a long beige dress coat, tight jeans, Converse sneakers, two earrings and a fro. He introduced me to an American band called Washed Out. Then I asked him where he finds his music and he recommended the following music blogs:

1. nialler9.com (for Irish music)
2. stereogram.com
3. theneedledrop.com
4.gorillavsbear.com

The man seemed like an audiophile, so these blogs are worth checking out.

Tonight I made my most complex dinner yet. For the first time ever I sauteed vegetables with pasta and sweet chili sauce. It actually tasted great, and Brad agreed. Teaching myself how to cook has been cool. It might be time to move beyond pasta soon.

Anyway, relatively chill day but definitely productive. I feel like the honeymoon period of Dublin is subsiding and I'm finally beginning to feel like an actual resident of this place. Feels good!

Nap Times

We listened to two lectures this morning, one on Irish history in the 19th and 20th century, another on Irish film. Listening to the first and trying to stay awake felt like trying to dive to the bottom of a 30 meter swimming pool to get the plastic ring at the bottom, while failing each time (if you get my drift). Listening to the second one was a similar experience. To make matters worse, I was sitting in the center of the second row, so direct eye contact the whole time. I had to apologize on multiple occasions to mister and miss lecturers with my eyes before dozing off, wishing I had Homer's jury glasses. But it was fine, really. We then went to register for classes. It took 5 of us more than two hours to figure out how the system worked. Unlike American universities, Trinity's registration system relies solely on paper. We need to write down our courses on a grid, submit it to Brenda the administrative assistant for her to make a photo copy. Brenda then submits our charts to the Head of School who signs off on our classes, and we need to go back to the office the next day to pick up our schedules. No happy green enrollment arrow. I guess an old university cherishes its old ways. After spending two and a half hours doing this, I have classes! They will be:

1. John Donne
2. Milton and the Revolutionary era
3. Irish Writing 1890-1945
4. Vikings and Crusaders in Early Ireland

The best part is that I don't have class on Monday or Friday, so that fantastic four-day weekend will be great for routine trips.

Tonight we saw a play with the Semester Start-Up Programme called the "The Government Inspector." Though it was hilarious and the actors were all quite good, I pulled a Bubby and fell asleep throughout most of Act I. I was sitting in the second row too, and felt like what Bill Clinton must have felt like during that MLK rally since I knew the actors would probably notice. At intermission I got a coffee and was awake for Act II, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I decided to walk home early since I was too tired today, and right before I got home I stepped in dog shit. I then spent about 20 minutes getting every last granule off the bottom of my shoe, and now it's cleaner than ever.

Today was my first stressful day in Ireland, but now that I have my classes in order it should be smooth sailing from here.

This is about to cover the last two days. We went on a pub crawl last night (read below) and I was in no condition to write a post when I got home.

Yesterday morning was the beginning of the Spring Semester Start-Up Programme. We all went into the Jonathan Swift Theater in the Arts building and were reintroduced to the coordinators. We then registered--I now have my Trinity I.D. card!--and went out to lunch on Grafton. I had lunch with three other people on the program. We went to a place called Bewley's, and I had a marvelous goat-cheese and roasted pepper sandwich on brown bread. The restaurant itself is on three floors and looks like an old-fashioned hotel. The meal was cheap and I highly recommend this place (many vegetarian options as well).

After lunch we got a tour of the libraries at Trinity where we'll be spending much of our campus-time. These libraries are relatively new and were built based on the plans of one of the Trinity architecture students. We had an hour-long break after that and used that time to hang out with newly made friends.

Later that day we took a tour of campus and learned about all the buildings. There is an incredible amount of history in this place. For example, the first King James Bibles in Ireland were printed in one of the buildings on campus which is still there today. I thought that was amazing, especially after just reading Robert Alter's Pen of Iron. There are also graves around campus where some of the former professors are buried. More to come on history.

Later that night we went on a "literary pub crawl" with the Programme. Basically we stopped at five different pubs where these two actors leading the crawl performed different pieces of Irish literature. They were great, and hilarious too. Each pub was significant because it was a site where a certain famous author was a regular. The last pub was called Davy Bryne's and is cool because James Joyce was a regular there and writes the pub into his Ulysses. We bought pints of Guinness and Bulmer's at each pub to commemorate the locations, and everyone was having a great time. So many great abroad students here! After that we went home and made ourselves midnight dinner.

Today we listened to three lectures in the morning: the first was centered on Robert Emmett's story, an Irish patriot who died in 1803 via hanging. After his conviction, Emmett gave one of the most famous orations in Irish history, and in the lecturer's opinion, one of the greatest speeches in all of history. It is called Speech from the Dock. To hear a great, cut down version of the speech, watch this. The next two lectures were on the architecture of Trinity and then one on Irish literature.

After this we took a field trip to Croke Stadium. This is where amateur teams from every county of Ireland come to play Gaelic Football and Hurling. The stadium is really awesome. The field is twice the size of an American football field. The guide gave a great tour, and we got to step up to the field, sit in the VIP seats, see the team locker rooms and lounges, and then see the museum. These games contribute to the reasons why Ireland is such a great country. These athletes by law of the games are not professional. They are all bankers, farmers, school teachers, carpenters, you name it. Yet they volunteer to represent their counties in a stadium that seats 82,000 people with millions more watching at home. These people are national heroes, and yet after the games they return to their regular occupations. Besides American college football, I'm not quite sure if there are arenas or a large stage somewhere in the U.S. where an ordinary person can become a national hero. It was quite a moving place to be, and I hope to go see a game sometime during the semester.

I got five hours of sleep last night so I'm staying in tonight. It has now officially been a week since I got to Dublin, and I must say it's been quite fantastic, as wonderful as anything I could have asked for. While school hasn't even started yet, I have already developed a passionate love for this city, its people and its culture. I'm so glad I'm here for a full semester and anticipate with much excitement all of the experiences and high jinks to come.

Guinness Factory, Kilmainham Gaol, and Some Great New Acquaintances

Today was jam-packed. We woke up at 8:30 and met up with three other people on the program for the first departing double-decker tour bus going out. We got off the bus at the Guinness factory and took a tour. The factory is awesome! Very interactive, very well spaced out with not too much information to bog you down. The best part was getting to pour our own pint of Guinness from the tap: it's free (if you pay the 10.40 euro admission fee). A charming lady taught us how to do it (pictures on the way). Afterward we were all feeling great, everything was funny, and it was only 11:30 am. There was a hilarious section with old Guinness commercials as well. We liked this one a lot and there was another one I thought was hilarious in how inappropriately sexist it was. It is a commercial with a man and woman on a picnic singing a song to one other, and one of his lines is: "Stop being lazy and make me a sandwich/stop being lazy and give me a beer." Of course he sings it in a very cheerful way, and she's smiling. It's not okay, but then again a lot wasn't okay in terms of civil rights in the 1950's. I wish I could find it online but I can't. We all had a good laugh though at the absurdity. The top floor of the Guinness factory is supposedly the best view of Dublin and of any other observatory. It is called the "Gravity Bar," and you get a 360 degree view. There is a bar up there too, hence the name, if you want to lounge and enjoy a Guinness after learning how it is made. If you come to Dublin you must make a visit to the factory. Honestly, it's one of the better museums I've ever seen. We had a great time.

Then we got back on the bus and went to Kilmainham Gaol, Dublin's former prison now turned into museum. It was established in the 1790's and was shut down sometime in the early 20th century. It was very cold in there, because when it was built the designer's theory was that prisoners would repent and reform if they were kept cold and in the dark. The prisoners were kept in solitary confinement, under the philosophy of Jeremy Banthem, who invented the idea of panopticon, where prisoners feel like they are being watched at all times. The prison is an unsettling place, where executions both private and public once took place, and where the people who gave Ireland its independence died as martyrs. Very interesting place, highly recommended.

After the prison, Brad and I met with a woman who is friends with his Aunt. He had never met her before, but she went completely out of her way to be extremely wonderful to us. She took us back to her house and we met her husband and three children. Their house was beautiful, and we had a meal there. Then she and I walked to the local produce store to buy fruit and vegetables (she insisted on paying, saying Mom would shoot her if she knew I payed for the groceries). They were extremely interesting as well. The husband is currently the Assistant Secretary General of the Department of Tourism, Culture and Sport in Dublin. That's my kind of guy. His wife told us that Dublin was a very small city and we'll soon figure that out, but because of that everyone knows each other. When I told her about my academic interests she said she could set up connections for me, whether with someone at the National Library or a museum, and I almost drooled on myself. Later she offered us one of the rugs in their house to take back to the apartment, bought us groceries, drove us to our next location, and said that they could be our Dublin family if we wanted. I think we hit the jackpot. Seriously, the greatest people.

After that wonderful experience we went to Trinity where we met all of the other American students studying there for the semester. Pizza and wine was provided. Everyone is very nice. We were going to go to the Porter House Pub afterward to keep meeting people, but at this point we'd been running around Dublin for about 11 straight hours and decided to call it an early night. It was a really great day.

General High Jinks with Some Mishaps Included

I’ll describe yesterday as one quite entropic day. I am the worst with jet-lag—it usually takes a week for me to shake it off. Thinking myself too tired the night before, I didn’t take my Advil PM, which knocks you out pretty hard. I went to sleep at around midnight and woke up at 3 in the morning. I then proceeded to roll around in bed wide awake, read a chapter of Paul Johnson’s Socrates, resorted to taking one sleeping pill (which did nothing for me), go on facebook, and contemplate the ceiling. This happened until 7:15 AM, when I finally caught a break and fell asleep. Brad woke me up an hour later and we headed to the IES center for orientation part II, which went from 9:30 to about 4:30. Of course there were many breaks, and two of my friends on the program introduced me to Joe Burger, where I had an enormous veggie burger with great fries and coffee for ten euro. It was a great deal! We ended up being a half hour late to the next session of orientation.

After orientation I headed up to the area around Trinity with a group of people to get a cell phone. The streets leading to Trinity are fantastic! So many varieties of shops, restaurants, pubs, hobby stores, you name it. I love the area more every time I see it. We then walked around the campus, which was now illuminated by daylight, and I noticed a lot of things I hadn’t the night before. It is truly gorgeous and I’ll try to post some pictures of it soon enough. Speaking of pictures, my camera is jammed. The lens will not recede into the unit and makes a strange suffering sound when I turn it on and off. I brought it to a camera store, where one of the men informed me that his friend down the street could look at it, but for 60 euro, which does not imply that he is going to fix it. I thought that was absurd and the man suggested that I keep jimmying with the lens until, by luck, it dislodges. I now sit in my apartment trying to loosen the lens, wondering whether I can spare 60 euro.

But the reality is you can’t spare any money here. We’ve been here for less than a week and all of us have blown through much of the bills in our wallets. Maybe it’s time to slow down a bit. I guess it’s hard to conserve when you are in euphoria mode, which is what Dublin is all about. A few other notable things: I found an awesome store called Secret Books and Records. You need to walk through a hallway to get to it, but it’s been opened since 1994 (I talked to the owner) and it is filled everywhere with piles of books and a respectable collection of European and American records—my kind of place. Only the record covers were on display, not the vinyls themselves. The owner was shocked when I told him that the record store in St. Louis had all of the records in their covers on display. I bought the collected poems of W.B. Yeats and Oscar Wilde, and he told me to come back the next day for a William Blake book I asked about. I then bought my phone plan and a SIM card from Vonafone. Then I went to another phone store where a nice Moroccan named Mohammed used his illegal software to unlock the phone I had already (shout out to Juan Alban for giving me his old French phone).

I then went back to the apartment and made Brad and myself pasta shells. We then went out to meet some people at a bar called MssRs Maguire next to the Liffy River. This is where my story (if you’ve read this far) moves from order to chaos, though with a rather happy ending, so no worries. We get to the bar and buy the Haus Lager, which deliciously tastes like a combination of apple cider and beer. This bar is awesome. It has three floors connected by a massive wooden staircase. There were tons of people there and I talked to some guy about how badly I wanted to join his lacrosse team (I haven’t played since the 7^th grade). I was loving Haus and probably ordered four pints over the two hours I was there. But then I made a big mistake. Under the influence I tend to wander. I wandered down the stairs and then followed a group out the door, leaving all of my friends in the bar. The bouncers wouldn’t let me back in because, in one of their words: “Y’have too much on ye.” I tried calling the one or two numbers I had in my cell phone, but realized that I wouldn’t get in, so I took a cab back to the apartment. When I got home I realized I forgot my coat at the bar, and asked Brad to get it for me. I described it as dark colored with fur on the hood. Needless to say I passed out hard (not this hard). When I woke the next morning with my shirt and jeans still on, my contacts still in, I looked at the ground at the coat Brad brought back for me. It was dark colored, with fur on the hood, but it wasn’t mine. My first thought was, of course, “Oh shit!” I checked the pockets and found an envelop inside with the name Wayne Spellman on it and a small tin container of Vaseline. I wore his coat this morning and felt rather European. We went on an IES double-decker bus tour around the city, which was great! When we got there the people from the night before said they were happy I was alive.

Afterward we had breakfast at a charming little restaurant run by two Japanese people. It was delicious and will probably become one of the regular places we go to since it’s on the way to school. We got to the bar and retrieved the coat, and I gave her the one that was taken accidentally. I’m sorry for taking it and I hope you find your coat, Wayne Spellman, wherever you are.

Then we went to the National Gallery and I loved it. They had paintings there by Caravaggio, Titian, Bruegel, Van Gogh, Rembrandt, a big exhibit on William Turner and more. These were all people I learned about in Western Art last year and it was awesome to see their work in person. My favorite was a painting by Jack Yeats called Grief, which is an anti-war painting. If you examine it closely people start to form in the chaos of color, most vividly the angry face of the horseman in the middle.

Anyway, this post is quite long, so I’m going to wrap up. If you’ve read this far, thank you. Hopefully I’ll fix my camera and post some pictures. Until then…

We had a very long day today: orientation part I. We woke up at 8 (we figured the water situation out) and had to be at the IES center by 9:30. The apartment still had a dilutedly pungent smokey smell when we woke up from the oven the night before. We sat in sessions until about 4:15 in the afternoon. Everyone was dying of jet lag by the end, but the IES people are all very down to earth so it wasn't torture, just long. Plus there were many breaks in between and I met most of the other people on the program. It's a great group.

After orientation we walked down to Grafton street, which is adjacent to Trinity's campus. Grafton looks like many urban streets in Europe. It reminded me of a street in Istanbul called Istiklal, with similar stores and the same genre of corny street performers, but with all the pubs and Trinity college around the corner it definitely has an Irish uniqueness.

Seeing Trinity College for the first time was truly breathtaking. Walking onto campus from Grafton, it felt almost like walking into a quasi ancient-Rome, quasi colonial English city. The campus is marvelous, and all of my stalking of it on google maps (click on the "A" on the map for street view) does not come close to portraying how magnificent it actually is. I'm so glad I can say I am going to school here for the semester.

We had an IES program dinner for all of the participants at a restaurant called Chatham Brasserie. It was an all expense paid meal including a free glass of wine. We got to meet the IES staff, who are all lovely, and met some more people on the program. Everyone had such a unique background. I ordered a "smoked black pudding" appetizer, which turned out to be sausage (pudding is a nice euphemism). The people at the table didn't understand how I'll be able to not eat meat for the semester, and I don't know either. Supposedly the only kosher food in Dublin is contained on one shelf in one convenient store in some sketch part of the city. No surprise there.

Here are some of my first somewhat respectable photos:

My apartment-mate Brad and our front door

The canal, our most useful landmark and our guide to the IES center

The beginning of Grafton street

Anyway, that's day two!

First Day in Dublin

A very easy flight to Dublin. No delays, and the tailwind was so strong that we got in an hour ahead of time. When we got into the taxi, I opened the driver's door and tried getting in, initially unaware that the steering wheel is on the other side of the car. The driver told me I could drive, but I refused. He then told us his life story, which included his life as a devout Marxist which then turned into a narrative of his four years in captivity as a political prisoner to the British in the 1970's. At the end of the ride I shook his hand and told him that he was an extremely interesting man, which he was.

After we got settled in the apartment, I took an hour and a half jet-lag nap while Brad, my apartment-mate, took a four hour nap. We have to heat the water in the shower before we use it, and it runs out quickly. If you know my bathroom habits then it won't surprise you that I used up all the hot water, and Brad had to take a cold shower. So now I need to train myself to take less than my normal 30-minute shower. It might be my greatest challenge, but we'll see. Maybe when Elijah comes back (yes, that's a Jew joke). But we are all settled in now. The apartment is a very comfortable size.

We met most of the other people on the program tonight at a bar called The Barge, a really cool place that's on three levels, made of brick behind Christmas lights. And it's true what they say: Guinness in Ireland is not even remotely comparable to Guinness in America. From the creamy froth that crowns the top of the glass to the thickness of the beer itself, nobody does Guinness better than the Irish. Our program is approximately a 1:7 male to female ratio. Tonight at the bar was a great time and I met a lot of interesting people. Then we came back to the apartment and had a frozen-food party with another apartment of girls on the program. We made french fries and pizza, setting off the fire alarm and successfully disarming its battery in the process. Great meal though. So for a day wrought with jet-lag and name memorization it's been quite good.

Breaking in the Blog

It's now two hours before I go to the airport. Most of my stuff is packed. It's crazy for me to think I'm actually going. I said good bye to most of my American family/friends. Sorry if I missed anyone, but I will be back. I can't wait to get on the plane. It's going to be an insane journey. I hope I keep up with this blog.

Whenever I'm about to do something I haven't done before, a passage from Moby-Dick consistently comes to mind. It is what Ishmael thinks the night before he embarks on his sea-journey, what helps him to eradicate his fear, and how his mission to sea is what will give his life meaning. I believe it is a good testament to turn to when the door is more ajar than open. I think it's appropriate to start here with Melville's wisdom:

"It needs scarcely to be told, with what feelings, on the eve of a Nantucket voyage, I regarded those marble tablets, and by murky light of that darkened, doleful day read the fate of the whalemen who had gone before me. Yes, Ishmael, the same fate may be thine. But somehow I grew merry again. Delightful inducements to embark, fine chance for promotion, it seems--aye, a stove boat will make me an immortal by brevet. Yes, there is death in this business of whaling--a speechlessly quick chaotic bundling of a man into Eternity. But what then? Methinks we have largely mistaken this matter of Life and Death. Methinks that what they call my shadow here on earth is my true substance. Methinks that in looking at things spiritual, we are too much like oysters observing the sun through the water, and thinking that thick water the thinnest of air. Methinks my body is but the less of my better being. In fact take my body who will, take it I say, it is not me. And therefore three cheers for Nantucket; and come a stove boat and stove body when they will, for stave my soul, Jove himself cannot"(ch.7).

Catch you all in the Old Country!