Glendalough and GAA

Buenas noches mi familia y amigos (especialmente a mi hermana, por quien este blog es para). I had no intention of writing tonight but I got a request (again) from my sister Rachel, so for the seven and a half people who still read this, you can thank her. I apologize for not being more consistent with the blog updates, but here’s the thing: as master of this webpage I can see how many hits it gets, and there just aren’t many. Somewhere between August 27^th and September 21^st I lost 67 readers. Ahh well. If you’re still reading, thank you! And if by chance this is your first visit, sorry for such a lame introduction (as I said, I wasn’t planning to write anything tonight). Now, back to Ireland:

Since I am essentially writing this entire post for Rachel I may as well talk about things that will entertain her (the rest of you should start putting in requests if you want personal shout outs). Here goes…this past Sunday I went to Glendalough with the Trinity Hiking Club. Yup folks, Lauren Russell paid 3€ to join a hiking society. Glendalough will probably end up being my first and last excursion since all future hikes require hiking boots (which I absolutely will not be purchasing) but it was a grand time all the same. Funny enough, I’d say 80% of the group were either international students like myself, or first year Trinity kids. The whole hike was a bit under four hours and it wasn’t very difficult. And to be honest, the small sweat I broke on the uphill portion was worth it for the view. Glendalough is a famous tourist destination in County Wicklow known as “the valley of the two lakes” (according to the travel website I’m scamming this info off of). To summarize, it is beautiful, majestic and perhaps even magical. My pictures honestly don’t do it justice, but please peruse them anyways. Also in the vicinity is an ancient round tower (on Facebook Rachel dubbed it “Rapunzel’s Tower”). I hadn’t made the connection, but in hindsight that would be a good way to describe it…there is no entrance into the tower, only windows. Round towers are pretty unique to Ireland; we learned about them in our Intro to Ireland course a few weeks ago. Historians aren’t sure what their original purpose was, but the general consensus is that they were probably early Christian bell towers. They aren’t practical for much, but they do make for a great picture.  

The one downside of my Glendalough trip was that I missed the All Ireland Football Championship. I’m not really complaining; I am a pretty notorious bandwagon fan of all sporting events. I’ll watch the Super Bowl if the Patriots are playing, the Stanley Cup Finals if the Bruins are in, etc. Other than that I’m hardly a devoted follower. I would have liked to see the Mayo-Donegal game though. The night before the match I met Mayo locals who had flown in from New York City to be here for it. I mean, that’s dedication. Donegal ended up with the Sam Maguire Cup (which by the way is modelled after the Ardagh Chalice…I learned a lot of factoids this August). Clearly the game wasn’t important to me on a personal level, but here’s what I did take away from the whole thing: admiration for the Gaelic Athletic Association. Considering the whole purpose of the organisation is to preserve and promote Irish culture (namely, athletics) it’s not surprising that there’s a lot a history tied up in the GAA. What struck me most is that it is amateur-only. The athletes lead real lives outside of the sport, and they aren’t paid. They don’t even wear their names on their jerseys. They train at the level of professionals but they do it for love of the game and love of their county. It makes you think… as much as we adore our star athletes in the States, it only takes an attractive contract to lose them to a rival team. I think the reason Gaelic Football has remained the most popular sport in Ireland is because the emphasis is truly on the team and on the county; each county has something to rally for as a community.  

That’s all for tonight kids. I’ll try to step up my game with the blogging but I’m not making any promises.

XOXO,

Lauren

 

 

 

 

 

  

I WANT IT. sigh. It's a Waterford chandelier in the
Player's Room at Croke Park (football & hurling inspired)





Croke Park



 

HAHA. stern faces

 

 



Freshers' Week

Cheers from Dublin friends and family! The management has been getting some complaints about my failure to keep up with the blog. Sorryyyy sorry. It’s Freshers' Week, cut me a break. Presently it’s 9am on Friday the 21^st, and I have a 2,000 word paper due by the end of the day (so it seems like the perfect time to catch up on my blogging). I have a problem, I know.

Rachel this is for you: Jedi Library = Trinity Library

 

 

 

So, Freshers' Week: Trinity’s version of Welcome Week for all the little kids just coming to college for the first time. Sadly, my status here is essentially that of a freshman, so Freshers' Week is 100% relevant. Trinity is both the coolest place ever (inasmuch as colleges are cool) and the most archaic institution I’ve ever encountered. Classes start next week and the timetables still aren’t available for the Econ department and part of the English department. In other words, I’m signed up for classes that still have no designated time. Normal? You tell me. That aside, Freshers' Week is wicked awesome (to rep my hometown). Oodles of clubs and societies camp out in the front square and shanghai you into joining, and then they take you to pubs. Its loads of fun for everyone except my wallet. Good craic.

Just a side note, I set Microsoft Word to British English because that’s the spelling required for future assignments, and right now it’s trying to get me to change the word “except” in the last sentence to “accept”…this can’t be right…I’m overriding SpellCheck.

This night wasn't even cold, we just wanted our blankets

Sorry that I sound like a nut job, I realize how ridiculous this entire post has been. It’s early and I’m somewhat distracted by the blank word doc in the tab beside this one, reminding me that I’m supposed to bang out an essay on Oliver Cromwell by this afternoon. Irish villain or English hero? I’ll let you know.

Enjoy some pictures from my recent shenanigans.

 

Dos Besos,

Lauren  

 

megalithic burial chambers in County Meath





The most recent apartment issue....

The Choctaw Gift

Hello friends. I hope you’re all well, I miss you!

Today was a little bit odd. For the first time in eleven years, I sat through three lectures and not one professor acknowledged the date. It’s strange to think of September 11^th as being just another date on the calendar, when all my friends from home have been posting statuses all day in remembrance. Even stranger, last week a professor made a reference to “the heroic fire-fighters of 9/11,” completely in passing. He was lecturing about the 1916 Rising in Ireland and casually cited the fire-fighters in comparison. It struck me how odd it was to hear the half-sentence as a passing thought, spoken with an Irish brogue. In America we never talk about 9/11 just as a reference point. We might quickly cite it in a “before v. after” context, but I can’t remember ever hearing someone talk about the fire-fighters so casually. It’s not history for us yet. It’s hard to believe that someday it will be.

Words like selflessness, heroism and brotherhood have become part of the 9/11 vernacular.  In Irish history there is a small story of a completely different context, but in the same vein of human compassion. It’s not monumental, like the fall of the Twin Towers, and it won’t be found in many history books. But it does show the best there is of humanity.

1847 came to be known by the Irish as Black ’47, after the devastation of the Great Famine. Starvation and disease on a mass scale blighted the country and forced thousands to emigrate. The global community was aware of Ireland’s suffering and sent millions in aid. But perhaps the most generous donation came from a humble source. The Choctaw Nation of Oklahoma sent $170 to the relief effort (some records claim $710, but the amount is almost irrelevant). Only 16 years before, the Choctaws had been displaced from their homeland by President Andrew Jackson; half died on the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma. After all their sorrows, the tribe still had the heart and the compassion to feel not just their own pain, but that of others.  Even with an ocean between them, they understood the grief of the Irish: to have their lands exploited, their autonomy stripped, and their people left to starve. The Choctaw Donation has not been well-remembered until recently, but it should be. It reveals something deep in the human capacity to love and protect one another. For that, tonight seems to be an appropriate moment to remember their gift. 

 

 

Love from Ireland,

Lauren

                                                                            

"Every action of our lives touches on some chord that will vibrate in eternity."

 ~Sean O'Casey

 

 

From Dublin to Dalkey

 

Happy Labor Day weekend to all those back home! Here in Dublin summer already snuck away without adieu. My struggle of the week has been trying to find adequate foot-wear. I thought I could get through September with flip flops and flats, but with highs of about 20° Celsius and rain (lots of rain) that won’t cut it. I did finally tackle the laundry basket though. As for the leak, we think it’s been taken care of but there’s still visible water damage to the ceiling so we’ll see what happens.



The clothes horse (aka, drying rack)

Also, Rachel asked me to clarify some of the Irish terms I used in the last post:  Craic Agus Ceol means “fun and music.” And yes, craic is pronounced like “crack” which makes it hilarious when Irish people talk about “good craic.” I think the only other word I used was sláinte, which means cheers. For instance, before drinking my delicious Bulmers Irish cider I might toast “sláinte” (because it’s true, girls do love cider).  

Even without a formal holiday, this weekend had its fair share of festivities. Namely, Notre Dame v. Navy. I think over the past few days I have seen more of the Fighting Irish than the actual Irish. The US Naval Academy and Notre Dame football teams (and their extensive entourages) took the city for the weekend in celebration of their annual rivalry game. According to ESPN there were 49,000 spectators in the stadium—I wasn’t there, but I can tell you first hand, they weren’t Irish. (How I Felt about the Notre Dame v Navy Game) Personally, I’ve had a lifetime in the company of Americans, so unless someone could set me up with a ticket to the game I wasn’t too interested. Every pub, coffee shop and even Trinity College itself was swarmed. Sooo, my roommate Margaret and I hightailed it out of the city in search for Bono.


Just think, we never even made it to
Bono's house...

Dalkey and Killeney are coastal towns in southern County Dublin. Their seaside mansions are homes to Ireland’s rich and famous—including, of course, Bono. Shockingly, we didn’t find him or any of his U2 band mates on the trip, but we did manage to have our best day in Ireland so far. After a 20 minute train ride from City Centre, we picked up coffee and scones from a bakery in Dalkey’s town centre and headed for the beach. It was a warm sunny day in Ireland which in itself is reason to be happy. But the ocean, there’s just really nothing like it. The three kilometre walk from Dalkey to Killeney is nothing short of beautiful. The River Liffey is great, but it’s no Irish Sea (I have similar feelings about the Potomac River in DC…I might as well be landlocked without a harbour nearby). At first I was impressed by the Italian-style villas, mansions and castles (yes, castles) sprinkling the coastline, but a full on view of the sea puts them to shame. Some outlooks even show both Killeney Bay and the Wicklow Mountains in one view. In the end we just couldn’t resist the water, so into the Irish Sea we went. It made for a long walk home considering we hadn’t brought bathing suits, but it was well worth it. Some things never change.



 

 

 



The finals of the Gaelic games start soon so I’ll save that topic for next time. I’ve also officially started my Intro to Ireland summer-start-up course so sorry in advance if I get dweeby and academic in my next post.

                                               

                                           Sláinte,

                                            Lauren

 

            "The voice of the sea speaks to the soul."
                    ~Kate Chopin, The Awakening