Go raibh ma agat, Eire!

Nicole and Mom told me to go to the Chester Beatty Library, but I didn't want to...so instead yesterday I went somewhere that I actually wanted to go, the Museum of Decorative Arts and History(that's it on the right). It's a lot of old tables and chairs and vases, but they have a really good collection of historic clothing. I didn't remember having gone there the last time I was in Ireland, but I kept getting deja vu, so I guess we did go there before. Anyways...cool place.

Afterwards I wanted to get lunch at the oldest pub in Ireland (left) which has been there since the 12th century, but I guess in 900 years they haven't added any vegetarian options to the menu. Instead I ate at a cute little cafe. I was the only person eating there that the employees didn't know by name. Also, their options for tea were listed as "peppermint, chamomile, earl grey, jasmine, green tea, and fruity ones."

After that I strolled around enjoying the relatively nice weather and I strolled past a place called the "Czech Inn," which is a funny joke that I didn't understand until I pronounced it out loud.

Today is my last day in Ireland. Can you believe it? I can't. I'm excited to be able to do laundry and take a shower with actual hot water and not to have to sleep in a room that smells like boy's feet, but other than that I'm very sad to leave.

If reading my travel chronicles for the past several weeks has inspired you to travel to Ireland for yourself I'd like to offer you a few tips for traveling here:
1) Get lazier
2) Memorize your life story in monologue form, you'll be reciting it often
3) When asked why you've come to Ireland don't mention anything about coming to the land of your ancestors. Irish people actually really like Americans, but they hate the Americans that come to Ireland "seeking their heritage" and claiming to be more Irish than the locals. You will, however, be asked what your ancestry is by everyone you meet...they just don't really want you to say you're Irish. It's a bit of a paradox, but then, so is everything here.
5) Bring an umbrella and sunglasses and expect to change between them multiple times a day
6) Don't stay in Paddy's Palace Hostel of Derry or Marlborough Hostel of Dublin
7) Do stay in B&B's. You'll meet some very eccentric people
8) Emotionally prepare yourself for being very near farm animals
9) Don't judge the country by Dublin--someone told me this at the very beginning of my trip and I didn't understand what they meant by it, but I figured it out now


I'm leaving Ireland with a lot of good stories, a lot less money, a little more understanding of the things I was researching, and healthy addictions to tea and alcohol. It's been a splendid trip though. Fabulous, in fact.

Thanks to everyone who has been reading and leaving comments! This will be my final blog entry, but stay tuned...in a few months I'll be reporting on my study abroad adventures--we'll see what India has in store for me!

Slainte! Go raibh ma agat!

Riverdance!

Riverdance! Riverdance! Riverdance!

Tease me if you must, but I'm a big dork for Riverdance. You are too, you just don't want to admit it. I was literally sitting watching the show jaw dropped, mouth covered by my hand, eyes wide...but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I arrived at the Gaiety Theater to conduct my interview at about 6:30 and went to the stage door as I had been instructed to do by the email that I received a while ago. Inside the stage door there was a receptionist girl who really doubted me when I told her I was there to interview one of the performers. She almost didn't let me in, but then one of the other dancers walked through the door and was like "Oh you're looking for Niamh? Come back with me, I'll get her for you." So the girl brought me backstage. Allow me a moment to tell you about the Gaiety Theater. You can tell you are in Ireland when a fancy, historic opera house has not one, but FOUR bars inside. Three of the bars are for audience patrons during intermission and then they open up to the public and become three night clubs on the weekend. The fourth bar is backstage exclusively for theater employees. It's more than just a backstage green room for the performers, it has bartenders, booths, several beers on tap, a big stereo system and all of the functions of a real bar. So the dancer girl deposited me in the backstage performer bar while she went to find Niamh O'Connor.

In case you didn't know, Niamh is pronounced "Neev" (rhymes with sleeve) because it is a Gaelic name and Gaelic pronunciations have nothing to do with Gaelic spellings.

I sat around in the bar being really awkward for a long time as I watched performers come in and out and interact with each other like real live people! The flamenco dancer said "hola" to someone! The main gospel singer guy discussed Los Angeles with me! He also told me that Niamh O'Connor was on stage doing a last minute emergency rehearsal because there was a new singer in the cast that night. Finally she emerged very frazzled and said "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting! We're having a bit of an emergency, do you think you could come back after the show?" Yes Niamh O'Connor. Yes I can.

At this point I went and got delicious dinner at Wagamama. I'm not going to explain to you what Wagamama is because if you've been there you already know how awesome it is, and if you don't know what it is you'll only be really jealous that you've never been there. Ignorance is bliss.

After delicious dinner I went into the theater and purchased a colorful, overpriced souvenir program (or programme if you're Irish) then went to my seat. With my mastery of the ticketmaster website I was able to procure a front and center ticket. Literally row A seat 14 . You can also tell you're in Ireland when in addition to people sitting around you in a theater with alcoholic beverages there are people sitting around you eating popcorn.

The show began to my delight. I have actually watched my old 1996 vhs recording of Riverdance (the Michael Flatley/ Jean Butler version) so many times that while watching the show I could pick out exactly which places the choreography had been changed and which parts were improvised. Regardless of the fact that I already knew exactly what dance was going to be done before they came out to do it, I still got my mind blown several times over. It also helped that I was close enough that I could have reached out and touched the performers if I wanted to...I didn't touch any performers, don't worry, I have some sense of self control. My only complaint was that the original show got about 50 dancers on stage at once, and they've really downsized, it's probably closer to 20 now...still impressive, just not as grand scale as it was in the past. May I just point out though that the 20 or so dancers were extremely well cast...not only were they all very talented but like...there was a lot of handsomeness on that stage.

After the show I went backstage again and felt very smug because while all of the other dazzled audience members had to leave I got to go chill with the performers. It would have been even more awesome if I had been able to act like a cool person instead of like a bumbling dork like I did. This time around the backstage bar was filled up with all of the sweaty exhausted dancers. I tried very hard not to stare. Ms. O'Connor arrived and I interviewed her. All of my questions were stupid, I acted really nervous, and she was clearly very tired and not completely excited about doing an interview, but considering the disastrously embarrassing things that I could have done, I think the whole thing was very successful. She's actually not the female lead in the current show, but she is the "dance captain" who keeps everyone in line and makes sure everyone has the choreography down and stuff. She's been dancing professionally with show for 13 years...which is like longer than I've even been a dancer. She is also engaged to marry the very handsome Padraic Moyles, male lead of the show. Let me point out that Padraic Moyles can do quadruple heel clicks, nerve taps, and drum rolls faster than the speed of light. If you don't know what those things mean just act impressed. Padraic Moyles also touched my camera...he took this picture of me(looking embarrassing) and Niamh O'Connor (looking embarrassed for me) that you see below.So like...what did you do last night?

Cockles and Mussels

This morning I conversed with a German lady staying in the hostel who is here in Ireland "making a holiday." Actually, there are no Americans in the hostel...or even English speakers. Everyone here seems like the have been here for a very long time and the seem to be staying indefinitely. They have all taken advantage of the relaxed EU policies on immigration and work visas and are here trying to get jobs so that they can improve their English, move back home and get better jobs. In the mean time, I'm a bit of an outsider here.

I set out for some adventuring this morning and I saw that intriguing directional sign that you see to the right. I followed the sign to come across the unattractive little church that you see in the photo to the left. It's in the center of the city surrounded by pubs. I ventured inside through the automatic sliding glass doors, past the confession boxes with doorbells on them, past the very decorative holy water fountain that you see below, back to a corner of the church where a boldly colored statue and a little old box were marked "Relics of St. Valentine." I would have taken a picture of that too, but there were actually a lot of people in the church praying and I was wearing sunglasses and a t-shirt with a skull and crossbones on it, so it felt like it might be the wrong time to whip out my camera.
You remember when I said I was wearing sunglasses and a t-shirt? That was appropriate for about 25 minutes and then it started pouring rain. I reached for my umbrella only to discover it was not with me. Actually, I'm not sure where it is on second thought...I better investigate that.

Twice now I've been into restaurant bathrooms that are lit only by black lights. This is presumably to display how clean the facilities are...or just to confuse drunk restaurant patrons...I'm not sure which.

The other night an Irish bloke asked me, "So what exactly is Thanksgiving?" I tried my best to explain about pilgrims and Indians without getting too much into genocide and racism...I added that it's basically a day set aside to over eat and wake up early to watch a televised parade...When explaining the Thanksgiving feast I got the follow-up question of "Isn't that just the same stuff that you eat on Christmas?" I said yes and he asked "So you just have the same big family feast twice in a one-month period?" I said yes. Odd holiday now that I think about it.

Here are some more things that Irish people say:
--Fair play meaning well done, or good job...someone said this to me, I didn't understand what they were saying and I took it to mean something very different...we cleared it up though...it's a good story, I'll tell you some time.
--That's Class meaning that's cool
--That's Gas also meaning that's cool
--Biffo meaning hillbilly. It stands for Big Ignorant Fuck from Offaly. County Offaly is like the designated hillbilly zone in Ireland that all the other Irish people make fun of. When I tell people that I visited the town Birr the reaction, invariably, is "HA HA HA you went to Offaly!!!"
--Like... you know? sometimes just "like" or sometimes just "you know" but they say these words more than the average California Valley Girl...they tack it onto the end of the phrase though, where a Valley Girl would put it in the middle of the phrase. For example, a Valley Girl might say "I like, went out for a burger. It was, you know, really good" and an Irish person would say "I went for some fish n' chips like, you know? It was grand, like."

And a really good Irish quote:
"You just go anticlockwise. Anticlockwise is the opposite of uncle clockwise."

Tonight is the night for watching Riverdance and interviewing Niamh O'Connor, so I'm sure I'll have some really embarrassing story to tell you tomorrow.

To conclude, let me point out that there are just eight days until my 21st birthday. This is what I want, it's now just a matter of which one of you will be buying it for me: CLICK HERE!!

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Just think what toucan do

No blog yesterday...I know. Sorry. There were adventures to be had and I couldn't be slowed down by the internet...I'll catch you up though.

I don't know if we've discussed this before or not, but I have an uncanny gravitational pull for crazy strangers. I get asked for directions by strangers literally every day. Not just in Ireland, but Portland, Los Angeles, New York, and everywhere I go. I once went for a short walk around Occidental and in under twenty minutes I was stopped three times by people asking me for directions. I used to think that I was overreacting and that everyone must get stopped for directions as much as I do, but I have come to realize that I just have a magical forcefield that draws confused strangers towards me. Despite what my mother says about my sense of direction, I actually find my way around very well without getting lost so I'm generally able to help the crazy people out...even when I've only been in the city for a few hours like my first day in Dublin when two Irish guys asked me how to get somewhere and then they were very embarrassed to discover that I was actually not a local. The next day I directed some French people to a movie theater, the next day I was unable to help some Australians looking for a place called O'Shea's, and this morning I was walking around and I was the only person out on a quiet, rainy Sunday morning, but then like magic a confused American girl in pajamas and flip flops appeared from nowhere to ask me where the nearest internet cafe was. I sometimes save people the embarrassment of discovering that I too am a tourist and give them directions in a faux-Irish accent, but that's only for special occasions. Actually, I've been wanting to confess that I am really worried about the well-being of a nice British family who may still be wandering the streets of Ennis looking for the grocery store that I accidentally told them was in the opposite direction to where it really is.

I'm glad I got that off my chest.

Yesterday morning I thought I would be really worldly and cultured and strike up a conversation in Spanish with some Spanish guests at the hostel, but evidently my Spanish is a little rusty. I said one phrase and they were like "Uh...What???" and then I got really embarrassed and said "ok, sorry, bye!" and ran away.

After that embarrassment I walked around the city for a while and went to a funky little covered market selling lots of odds and ends. Here's a stall that was selling ladies clothing and big dead bugs in glass boxes.

I also felt like being really touristy yesterday so I went to the very popular National Museum of Alcoholism...also called the Guinness Storehouse Museum. Everyone that I have met has told me that I have to go there and like, who am I to disregard their advice? It's a pretty clever operation. You arrive with all of the other masses of tourists to stand in a Disneyland-length line before paying an arm and a leg to enter the museum. Then you walk through the museum reading all about the Guinness-making process, Arthur Guinness's legacy, and various funny advertising campaigns. All of this makes you really want a Guinness and then you arrive at the top floor of the building and they give you a free pint. As it turns out, a pint is a lot of liquid. The Guinness imbibing room at the top of the building is also where the best views of Dublin are because it is just a circular room with 360 degrees of windows. Observe the nice photo to the right.

The Challenge.The Accomplishment. (sorry parents.)

Skip ahead now to this morning. I decided to go out for Sunday brunch...which is actually very difficult to do in Ireland since everything except the churches is closed on Sunday mornings and the only other people out on the streets are lost American girls in pajamas looking for internet cafes. (If you don't get that joke then you haven't been paying attention.) I finally found a very swanky pseudo-French cafe where I ordered porridge. My experience with ordering porridge on this trip so far is that a bowl of pretty standard oatmeal arrives, but that was not the case here. I'm not sure what that was that I ate, but it involved a lot of cream, a lot of berries, and it was really delicious. If that is what porridge is supposed to be then I understand why Goldilocks got into trouble.

Walking out of the swanky Frenchy porridge cafe I discovered a place called "The Secret Bookstore." It is aptly titled because it is completely hidden down a little alley and all that leads you there is a tiny sign that says "secret bookstore this way." Inside there were a lot of cool used books, but guess what I found!!! There before me was a book of six full-color pull-out posters of the various portraits of Queen Elizabeth I. omg. If you know me well, then you know that despite our 454 year age difference, Good Queen Bess and I share a very special bond. I snatched up the posters immediately along with another piece of reading material for the plane.

Happy birthday Brian...he's 30 now...whoa.

none of the thoughts in this post are in any way connected to each other.

Just to reiterate Pete McCarthy's quote that "the Irish aren't after your money, they just want to know everything about you," last night, once again, I found myself in a swarm of Irish locals who wanted details about all aspects of my life and wouldn't allow me to leave until I had been peer-pressured, mercilessly teased, and most of my life story was out in the open.

Here's a picture of a sign that I found amusing.

The zipper on my suitcase is actually broken now so like...I hope it survives the journey home...

The radio is playing here in the hostel and the announcer just said something about it being the 4th of July today. Waddya know?! It is the 4th! I had completely forgotten...I guess they don't feel the need to celebrate America's independence in Ireland.

Today was sunny and lovely for once! I did some urban hiking, some park bench sitting, and some gallery visiting. I went to the National Gallery...mostly because I'm afraid of what my mother would say if I didn't go to any art museums on my trip...and also because there's free admission.

I ate lunch at a place called the Bad Ass Cafe. Mostly because of the name.







Here's the Oscar Wilde statue. I saw that today too.

Good thing I have an umbrella.

I am about 98% sure I just saw Gabriel Byrne walking down the street. Although, a lot of Irish people look alike and they tend to have big families...so it could have been like his brother or something. In any case, I just saw someone that looks exactly like Gabriel Byrne.

Last night I went to this restaurant that you see on the left. My tourist map suggested it and the description included the words "cheap" and "vegetarian" so I jumped at the opportunity. It was delicious and all the decorations were pink. My map and I seem to disagree a little about what "cheap" means though. I used my highly advanced Excel chart to calculate how much money I have left in my food budget and as of last night I had 4 euros left. I don't know that I can stretch 4 euros over a week in Dublin...especially considering I've already spent about 6.50 on food today...maybe I should have asked Gabriel Byrne for a meal.

I had a bunch of things planned for the day, but most of them involved wandering the streets taking in the sunshine. The sun stood me up though. It's been pouring all day long. I sought out indoor activities such as visiting the National Museum. They have lots of really impressive artifacts there, but you're not allowed to take pictures of anything. I was finding it very hard to abide by such a rule but the one time I tried to sneak my camera out of my purse a very angry guard appeared. They have one room in the museum that has four "bog bodies," as in people that died about 2000 years ago but their bodies were preserved in Irish bogs only to be discovered several hundred years later by archaeologists. It's one of those instances where something that should be totally disgusting becomes strangely intriguing. All of the descriptions were kind of oddly frank as well. It would say, for example, "This is the body of a 25 year old man from around 200 A.D. He stood about 5'9", his last meal appears to have been grains and dairy, and he died from several heavy blows to the head by an axe. He was also disemboweled."

I needed a book to read so a few days ago I purchased McCarthy's Bar. It's a comedy travel memoir thing that a guy wrote about his travels through Ireland. It kind of reminds me of my blog only it's funnier and better written. I can certainly relate very closely to a lot of his anecdotes. One thing he got right was when he said "The Irish aren't after your money, they just want to know everything about you."
I purchased the book in the "Irish Interest" section of a little used bookstore in Limerick. One thing I have observed about bookstores here is that without fail the first section you see in every bookstore you walk into is the Irish section. That usually gets divided into "Irish Literature" "Irish Poetry" "Irish Travel" "Irish History" and basically any other book genre that you can attach the word "Irish" to. They have other sections too, but usually, if say, you go to the "Classics" section it's all James Joyce and Oscar Wilde and Jonathan Swift. At first I thought the stores were just really catering to tourists, but then I realized that they actually just really like to read about Ireland.

Nicole is a very whiny person and she complained that I haven't been posting pictures lately. Just for her, here are a few shots from Dublin and Limerick.

Lest you forget what country you are in amidst the hustle and bustle of metropolitan Dublin, they have this helpful statue (on the right) to remind you where you really are.

My hostel is right next to St. Mary's Pro-Cathedral. It's a nice building. It's especially nice when there is a seagull perched on top of St. Mary's head.

These ones are from Limerick a few days ago.

Here is the University of Limerick. I tried to walk there and it ended up taking like 2 hours. I was then too exhausted to walk around the campus very long so I just got the bus back.

This sculpture in Limerick troubled me. It is a "Broken Heart" in memorial to the lives lost during the Great Famine. Did the artist have to be that literal?

Where's Waldo? No seriously...where is he and who is this Wally person?

A testament to how much they love hurling and rugby in Limerick.

And may I just say...If my 50 cent/ballet/Gershwin dream can't yield comments from you people then I don't know what will.

Baile Atha Cliath

I wouldn't normally share my dreams in such a public venue as the internet...I mean...I wouldn't want just anyone psychoanalyzing me...but last night's dream was truly noteworthy. I kid you not, I literally conjured up a dream in which I was dancing an improvisational ballet pas-de-deux with famed gangster-rapper 50 Cent to a song by George Gershwin. I am not making that up. I couldn't make that up if I tried. Any interpretations are welcome.

This morning I came THIS CLOSE (you can't see me but I am gesturing two fingers very close together) to leaving my cell phone in the hostel in Limerick. That would have sucked.

It is a good thing that this morning was the last time I had to move my stuff because my suitcase and I are no longer on friendly terms. At the beginning of my journey with gentle coaxing I could convince Suitcase to close or even to move if I wanted it to, but that is no longer the case. Suitcase cries out in agony when I try to close its zippers and moves only on its own very unreasonable terms. Our relationship has turned bitter and spiteful.

You will recall at the start of this trip I was having a lot of anxiety over being in small towns. As a self-proclaimed "city person" I was having a lot of trouble slowing my pace down enough to appreciate the simple rural lifestyle. After several weeks I really got the hang of it though. As a result, I faced culture shock again today when I arrived in Dublin. The Dublin area actually has fewer people than the Portland area, but because it is the biggest city in Ireland and the center for the country's government and economy, it sort of looks and feels like a huge metropolis...especially when you've just spent a month and a half in sheep and cow territory. When I got off the bus I had a few moments of panic. The crowds! The noise! The buildings higher that two stories!

I readjusted to city-speed pretty quickly though and was able to obtain a soy chai latte almost instantaneously.

I had been in contact with someone from Riverdance several months ago when I was writing up my proposal and application for my grant and they said that I might be able to get an interview with one of the cast members while I was here. I didn't ever really hear from them again though, so I kind of assumed that that wasn't really going to happen. I received an email the other night though that instructed me to come to the stage door before the show in a few days and ask for Niamh O'Connor, the female lead of the show, at which point I am to conduct a 20-30 minute interview. Oh dear. There are a few problems with this situation. First of all there is my crippling social anxiety and my extreme vulnerability to star-struck behavior. Secondly, it seems, from the email they sent me, that they assume I am far more professional and prestigious than I actually am. Finally, because I had assumed I wasn't actually going to be doing this interview, I have no questions prepared. A bit problematic, no? At least I have a few days to become less anxious, more professional, and better prepared.


All neuroses aside, I arrived safely in Dublin, the hostel is in a great location, and I should have plenty of fun things to do for the next week.