Belfast, basketball, bicuspids

Another busy and action packed few weeks here in Dublin! I'll be as brief as possible (though to be sure that isn't always possible):

Tuesday the 23rd was the first day of basketball with the fourth grade class of St. Louis primary school. You think your kids are bad at the sport? These kids haven't even played before. Ever. Period. It doesn't mean the time spent was horrible or anything, just extremely unskilled. Regardless, it was an absolute blast and the kids, while rowdy and bouncing off the walls almost nonstop are simply fantastic. The program will be progressing for 5 weeks, and I plan on going every time. 

The rest of last week was not very eventful. On Wednesday I realized I had a paper due on Friday, so that was slightly stressful, but I was able to finish it on time without any problems. Classes have definitely come second during my stay in Ireland, mostly because there is so much more I can get away with when I'm here as opposed to Notre Dame. It is nice on some levels, I have a ton more free time. On the other hand it feels very weird and I do not feel productive on most days even if I am accomplishing things that need to get done. Nonetheless I think the time spent will be beneficial in the long run, especially if it is in such an environment so readily available for "experience" learning.

Friday the 26th the ND group went to Belfast and Northern Ireland on one of our trips. It was quite a neat place to be in and one that was certainly different from the Irish experience we had thus far been a part of. Northern Ireland uses pounds instead of euros, is as most people know culturally divided along religious lines, and is both a part of Great Britainn and Ireland. We spent the first day visiting with a member of InterTrade Ireland, a group that facilitates commerce between the two sections of the divided isle. That was a neat economic lesson and probably a topic for a paper or two later down the road because it luminated the difficulty in bringing together a country that is not only culturally and nationally divided but one that also has many economic divides. In all cases we learned quite a bit.

Next stop was the Stormont, the political center of Northern Ireland. Inside we were able to eat lunch and then have a Q & A with one of Sein Fein's most powerful members, Francie Molloy. Quick background, Sein Fein is a nationalist political party inside Ireland that supports unification of the island as a whole, even to the point of supporting the violent and dominant Irish Republican Army in the 1970's during The Troubles (their reference to the violence in Belfast and Northern Ireland during the political turmoil). Francie was very accomidating to our questions though was also avoidant, prefering a much more diplomatic stance when asked about the support of the IRA by his party. I of course tried to start a fight as did several other people, but he did keep his cool and answered our questions like a seasoned politician would. That isn't to say I disagree with him or his party's current stances or agree with him, I just enjoy arguing and who better to argue with than an actual politician? It was awesome!

Our dinner and a beach awaited us now. We rode the bus up to the far north coast to a very small village. We strolled around and then sat down to eat a very delicious meal even if we had to wait a very long time. All the food was delicious and very much worth it. We had all figured by now the last stop would be our hostel. Someone should have told Kevin as he walked us down a dark path in the pitch black toward who knows what. Granted it was the perfect opportunity for stealthy individuals such as myself to scare the crap out of some people which I did with rather gleeful malice. This spawned a war that is being fought to this day, and one I am confident we will triumph in. 

After the long walk down, suddenly a port opened up and we sat on some of the large rock croppings, staring out into the dark and mysterious sea. The oceans of Ireland are not beach-filled paradises like in Greece or Italy. The water is dark and foreboding, daring those who stare out in to it to venture beyond the waves, past world's edge into the void. The atmosphere reflected such feelings present in the environment for I'm sure many a year before my arrival. Very deep.

Everyone knows immediately after a deep thought, we have to do something completely stupid. So we bunch of nice Catholic Notre Dame kids traveled to the one Protestant bar for a bit of karaoke to round off the day. It was fantastic! Such hits sung included The Devil Went Down to Georgia, You've Lost that Loving Feeling, Shout (by yours truely), and I'm Too Sexy by the OC staff. Imagine a 45 year old Irish Historian singing that song. Truely beautful. 

Andrew and I also rounded out the night with a smash version of "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. Courtney and Cheryl got to sit on stools while we and everyone else sang to them. We even hit the harmonies... very epic. It was quite a good night!

Day two of Northern Ireland greeted us with a bright sun, clear sky, and cool breeze. It was the perfect day to traverse the countryside yet again. The day started off like any other, all of us walking down the street to our bus only to be almost run over by a herd of sheep running down the road. They may seem cute and cuddly, but those things can run, and fast. 

We hopped on the bus only to drive for about fifteen minutes before we hopped off again and took a stroll on a beach. Kevin likes to do these things, and we sang the fight song on the North Sea. Come to think of it, the sheer number of waters I have seen in the past month is astounding. I have looked at and/or touched the Atlantic Ocean, Mediterranean Sea, Aegean Sea, Irish Sea, and Artic Ocean all within the month of September. Pretty wild if you ask me. 

In any case, after the beach walk and some pictures of rather random things including me jumping off cliffs (because that is what I do), we dispatched to Giant's Causeway. What will probably be named one of the natural wonders of the world in 2009, these rock formations are all hexigonal in shape, stretching out into the ocean in Basalt conglomerations while the waves crash up and over their land based domain. It is the only formation of its type (most likely volcanic rock solidified under perfect temperature and pressure) outside of a small patch across the water on the shores of Scotland. The legend is a giant wanted to build a bridge to travel to Scotland, but stopped without finishing. It truly is a marvelous sight. Problem was every single rock is either 1. huge or 2. connected to another rock that is huge. Taking something home with me was going to be a problem. That did not stop my quest, and finally after twenty minutes of looking, I took with me a tiny piece of Giant's Causeway. It will forever remind me of my time spent in Ireland and the incredible wonder of nature I have thus far witnessed.

Jenna and I proceeded to then become lost. The group went on ahead, we decided to walk the high cliff path. It wasn't a big deal, we met up with them later and it gave us some time to just relax without Kevin pushing us to see yet another bunch of rocks. Once you've seen one pile, you've seen them all, right? Yeah right, like I could ever grow tired of seeing this country. It's fantastical.

Our journey North could not proceed any further, so we turned South and headed back to Belfast. We had lunch rather in the city on our own, which was really a great experience. We found a street similar to Grafton with cobblestone lining, performers, shops, and eateries. There was a celebration going on and it was generally just a lot of fun to sit there and be a part of it all. It almost felt like the city was friendly and very... "anti" story-book Belfast. No violence, no religion, no walls. Only celebration. 

That conception was dashed rather quickly. Joining us now was Patrick, a man who had lived in Belfast for his entire life. He was in his mid 40's and was not a tour guide or anything other than a man Kevin knew who had lived in the city torn apart by violence. 

He had a slight emaciated look on him, a man who had seen more than his fair share. We were soon to find out that he had in fact not only seen the violence but had literally lived it. He told us stories of being beat up by the police, having his face bashed in with a chair, watching his friends and family members fight in the IRA and later on killed. He could count fifteen he had known well that were killed at some time or another during the Troubles. All of it without a single tear, but perhaps it was because he had already cried too much for one man to cry ever again.

The level of normalcy he spoke with absolutely amazed me. Here was a man who had lived what I read about in history books, and as we walked through the streets of one of the Catholic neighborhoods he grew up in he told us the stories that sent many shivers down my spine. Stories of boys my age carrying rocket grenades (and using them), men walking down the streets with AK-47s, even independent police instituting a curfew of 8 PM for which a violation was punishable by death on sight. All of which happened where we were walking now.

There are murals on many houses in the Catholic neighborhoods. Murals of young soldiers, called terrorists by the government, here they are heroes. Brandishing their automatic assault rifles and decked in hard camo, these freedom fighters defended the cultural group that had created them, all of which paid the ultimate sacrifice. Words cannot express the atmosphere in the air at the time.

Then perhaps we saw the saddest thing of all. A wall, 30 feet high and stretching down the entire length of the city, stood dividing one cultural people from another. Protestants on one, Catholics on the other. The Berlin Wall fell almost 20 years ago. Here the wall still stands, reminding everyone that divisions in the world still exist to the point that physical barriers must stand to not only stop families from moving across ethnic lines but also molotov cocktails from burning down homes of of people from another religion. 

It was a rather dreary point to end on, but one that certainly struck home in a variety of ways. This country is not simply high cliffs, rolling green pastures, and wonderous city life. The romantic Ireland can only survive for so long before modernity attempts to snuff it out. And in some places like Belfast it unfortunately has. The real world has taken a firey grip on this country, one so strong that even The Quiet Man is snuffed out and forgotten. Overwritten? Not necessarily, simply momentarily silenced. Ireland is still very divided and problems, whether political, cultural, economic, or otherwise... not only still exist, but for many people continue to define life day in and day out. 

Don't take your freedoms in the United States for granted. They are not common across the entire world, and simple things like walking down the sidewalk may not be possible should you travel somewhere. And it isn't always Lebanon, Iraq, or Sudan where this happens. Patrick told us about streets you simply do not walk on at night because no matter which side you choose, the other will scorn you and let you know it. A developed country with booming exports and a certain place in the hearts of many Americans, torn apart by violence older than time. 

Simple message: appreciate it. 

I am off to London for now, we shall see how things go from there. Pictures will be up very soon (I promise!) Cheers!