Back in the USA so soon!

Beautiful Galway

Galway is officially my favorite town in Ireland – and no, not just because of the song (go listen to “The Galway Girl” – love it!) but because it is the most fantastic little place. Actually, it’s not really that little considering that my hometown only has 15,000 people and Galway’s population stands at 70,000 – but the point is, it is somewhat quaint, and much moreso than Dublin. It was a fantastic base for exploring what in my opinion (at least so far) is the most beautiful places in Ireland. This weekend was filled with so much good weather and beautiful scenery that its almost unbelieveable my camera didn’t break from the thousands of pictures that were taken. Don’t worry, I narrowed it down to only 40 or so to put up on Facebook, so you don’t have to sift through all of them. Point being, however, this weekend was simply fantastic (except for the part where some guy at the pub threw up nearly on Marissa… but we’ll glide right over that part of the weekend).

After our bed and breakfast experience in Cork, which wasn’t exactly fantastic, Marissa and I opted to stay in a hostel in Galway. Hostels are very common here, and for the budget traveler, B&B’s and hostels are really the only way to go. There are many advantages of hostels: a kitchen that you can use, a hang-out living room type of area, laid back atmosphere, there are always people around, much more conducive to making friends than a hotel, etc. However, there are also several downsides to staying in a hostel: lights in your room that barely work, bathrooms that  smell, showers where the water turns off ever 15 seconds and has no temperature adjustment (it was SCALDING hot at times! I never thought I’d say this, but I’d almost rather have had a cold shower), internet that costs 1 euro for 15 minutes, and very loud hallways at night when we’re trying to sleep and our alarm is set for 8am. Nonetheless, our first night in the hostel was good. When we arrived, we went out to dinner at a very traditional Irish restaurant, then headed back to sleep and prepare for the next day.

Irish Countryside

Marissa and I split up the next day, wanting to go on different bus tours, but another Harvard intern in Ireland and I went to the Cliffs of Moher together. I’ve heard really bad things about bus tours, but when you don’t have a car its a really affordable and surprisingly fun way to see the countryside. I did a lot of research into tour companies and it paid off: our tour guide was GREAT, the route we took was phenomenal, and we got to see so much I don’t know how we did it in only 8 hours. The guide was very into telling us about mythical Ireland, which thrives in the West part of the country. We were driving through the wilderness with roads barely even big enough to fit the bus and there were many a time that I thought the bus would lose balance on the edge of the road and tumble down the mountain / hill / cliff – amazing, in my opinion, that this didn’t happen.

One really amazing thing that I’m not going to post a picture of because the photo is severely disappointing compared to what it is like in real life are the “fairy circles” found in the middle of each field. Here, fields are divided up into sections by stone walls – the walls, I’ve learned, are there mostly because there are naturally so many rocks in the field that the farmers had to do something with them, and building walls in between land was a more efficient way than having to carry all of the stones to some far away pile. Also, during the Potato Famine, people built walls all the way up the mountains simply to keep busy and distract themselves from the horror of that time in Irish history. Anyway, the fairy circles were normally a circle of trees, apparently naturally occurring, that appears in the middle of these fields. Farmers are still to this day afraid to cut them down because of the many awful stories that exist about what has happened to those who dare to disturb even one branch of the tree. I know its hard to believe here, but when you’re driving through magical Ireland, with its tales of leprechauns and rainbows and magic, its quite easy to get caught up in these stories.

As we drove through the mountains on these winding roads, I noticed what looked like small stone huts on top of some of the mountains that stood out from the rest of the green scenery. When we got closer and prepared to actually stop at one, our tour guide explained that these are ancient crypts used to bury the dead thousands of years ago in Ireland. They buried the most honored people on top of the mountains, overlooking all of the countryside of beautiful Ireland. The crypt that we stopped at was dated a few years ago by a team of experts at 5,000 years old! I know you heard this from me last summer, but damn, America is like a little infant compared to the rich history that these countries have.

The astounding cliffs of Moher

After seeing countless castles, crypts, stone walls and fairy circles we arrived at the Cliffs of Moher, one of Ireland’s most famous tourist attractions, an honor that should not be taken lightly. These cliffs are at the edge of Western Ireland and tower above the Atlantic ocean at 394 feet. (for all of you nerds out there: The cliffs were the filming location for the 6th Harry Potter movie, when Harry and Dumbledore go to destroy the horcrux in the cave.) For some strange reason, we got the most beautiful day to see them- sun shining, no rain, absolutely perfect warm weather. Avi and I took tons of pictures and hiked around, bypassing the large “DANGER: DO NOT CONTINUE” sign like every other tourist and teetering on the edge of the cliffs with absolutely no railing and a very slippery slope. It’s funny that people just walk past this sign so nonchalantly and there is no guard there to care; its as if the sign is really just put there to prevent the government for being sued when someone is blown off the edge, as happens reportedly over 20 times per year. That would SO not happen in America. On our way back from walking along the dangerous parts of the cliffs, I actually saw some guy slip and fall – thankfully, he fell on his side opposite the cliffs, and when I said to him “thank goodness you fell on your left and not your right!” he gave me a faint smile and looked like he was about to hurl. Maybe not the best time to make a joke.

Definitely not standing too close to the edge!

Friday night we met up with Avi’s friend Kevin, a student at UVA, who hung out with us on Friday night. We ate at another traditional Irish restaurant and then went out to the pubs in Galway. The night ended pretty early after Marissa was nearly thrown up on and we stumbled into an American bar, with people kareoking “Sweet Home Alabama” and a Vermont license plate hanging behind me on the wall. We had an early morning again Saturday, anyway!

Saturday we woke up and caught a bus, then a ferry to the beautiful Aran Islands. It rained on our way there, but by the time we got to the Islands it was sunny and gorgeous and warm. We rented bikes and set off, biking around the 9 mile island and absorbing the peaceful atmosphere. Though the scenery was much like the rest of Ireland, it was so nice to be free on the road with just our bikes than to be on a tour bus. We rode around, had a picnic lunch on the rocks overlooking the ocean, and then stumbled upon a wonderful beach (pictures attached: that beach SO does not look like it belongs in Ireland!) After frolicking in the water for a while, we continued on to an ancient fort, which was pretty cool. Again, there were cliffs and no railing, so we stood on the edge and felt very much like daredevils. Pictures are on facebook, and I’ll upload a few here too!

The wide open bike road

Saturday night was great fun – we ordered pizza and got beer and hung out at the hostel, playing Jenga / card games in the common area of the hostel for hours. Let me just tell you – we were the entertainment for the evening for everyone in that hostel. I mean, you’re staying in a HOSTEL, which as I’ve said is definitely not the place to stay if you are looking for a quiet / relaxing break. The common room is there for a reason, plus we’re poor, so we just had a good time with jenga and our friends who took our idea and started their own games in the common room. Yay for hostels having loads of board games behind the desk!

Sunday was a lazy day, wandering around Galway, going to cafes and then heading back to Dublin. It was such a fantastic weekend and honestly, we could not have had more beautiful weather. Of all my places to go in Ireland, this was probably my favorite. Beautiful town, two wonderful site-seeing opportunities – a must-see if you come to ireland!

I know this entry is late, but hopefully tomorrow I’ll be writing about Killarney (last weekend). Tomorrow is my last day at work, and then Saturday at 6:30 am Abby and I leave for Scotland!! We have so much planned – trips to the Edinburgh (ghost tour! Edinburgh Castle!), Inverness (Loch Ness!), Latheron (population > 500 people … where the Clan Gunn museum is located, way up in the northern highlands), and Glasgow. In a week from today, I can’t believe I’ll be back in Vermont!! Excited to come home, but SO much to do in the next week!

Scary!

The beach

Look at the green!

I know that a lot of my friends from home think of Ireland as a musical country – blame it on U2, perhaps. And since I’ve been here, I can definitely confirm that is true; music is abundant, whether played in the street or a pub or at a festival. However, I think many people (myself included) quickly forget that Ireland is also a land full of wonderful writers and poets. In English classes, especially those in High School, we almost exclusively focus on American and British Authors. But Ireland – from Jonathan Swift to Oscar Wilde and James Joyce (just to name a few) – has a rich literary history. This is why on Saturday I opted to go to the writer’s museum.

This wasn’t my first stop of the day, though. After writing in the blog in the morning, I downloaded some of Dubin’s iWalks onto my ipod, and let me tell you – best. invention. ever. Every city should have these! Basically they are free hour-long walking tours of Dublin filled with history, tales, and better yet, directions. I downloaded 3 of the 10 walking tours available onto my ipod and set out alone for the day. 

The first tour I did was of Georgian Dublin. Most of the walking tour actually took place in the neighborhood that I work in, but I hadn’t ever really stopped to look at the buildings and the

Oscar Wilde Statue

architecture until I had my lovely tour guide’s voice filling my ears with helpful information about the history of the street and the life that they building had in past times. The walk took me around Dublin, eventually to Merrion Square Park, where I stopped to look at the statue of Oscar Wilde. The statue itself is interesting, with his face frozen in a picturesque mischievous grin, but what was better were the two pillars in front of the statue. At first, I thought they were graffitied, a sight that isn’t necessarily rare in Dublin. Then, listening to the man’s voice in my ear again, I realized that written all over the pillars were famous quotes from Wilde himself. The quotes were selected by other famous literary figures in Dublin and written on the pillar in the selector’s handwriting. Again, I know I’m a bit of a geek, but this statue is one of my favorite things I’ve seen in Dublin so far. 

My tour then brought me to the “Rutland Fountain” – yes, the Rutland fountain – which obviously looked just like my hometown of Rutland, Vermont. I kid, I kid, but it was pretty cool and I still did take a picture of it. After that tour was over I crossed the River Liffey into the historic North Side,

One of the amazing pillars filled with his quotes

 where much of Dublin’s early twentieth century history comes to life. Walking along the streets listening to the narrative of the uprising that occurred here, the church drama that ensued over this building, and the life of the famous figure who lived in this house, I came across the Dublin Writer’s Museum. It is a museum that I surely wouldn’t recommend to the impatient, as it is tiny (but located in a GORGEOUS 18th-century house), but when I paid admission I was given an audio device and walked around to each display, listening to the corresponding story. It is hard to explain the feeling that I got from the museum, but it truly actualized the history of Dublin writing for me, how important it was, and still is, to the entire country and it’s character. Adding to my list of things to read when I leave (which already includes Angela’s Ashes) are several of these author’s works and poetry compilations. The museum was excellent, and I would recommend it to anyone who is lucky enough to pay a visit to Dublin in their lifetime.

The rest of Saturday was fun as well – Marissa and I went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner, then out to the pubs (her first time!) but not too late, because Sunday morning, I had to get up early to go on a hike with another fellow intern from my office building – a hike in the Wicklow Mountains! I was planning on going alone, but when I mentioned it to him and he was interested I was more than

The beginning of the trail, when it was still flat.

happy to share the experience – anyone who knows my history with broken bones and bruises would understand why hiking to the top of a mountain and on the edge of a cliff by myself wouldn’t necessarily be the smartest idea. Anyway, we got an 11:30 bus there and began hiking around 1 – we went for the “most difficult” route, a 7 mile 4.5 hour hike. We also hiked it “backwards” of what the normal route would be, which actually turned out to be a good idea – usually, you face 600+ makeshift stone / wood “stairs” at the beginning of the trek and then the rest is a downhill hike, but for us, it was 80% uphill and just down the stairs at the end. Maybe more difficult, but I’d rather take 3 hours of uphill than 600 stairs.

The weather was that of a typical Irish day – sunny, but of course it down poured at one point right when we were completely unsheltered. I honestly think that wet jeans – not even wet, like thoroughly saturated jeans – are one of the worst things ever. I was completely soaked because an umbrella did no good and I was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Luckily my sneakers were mostly dry and I brought gym shorts to change into, so it was all good. Despite the rain (and then the sun, and then a beautiful rainbow on the bus ride home), the hike was incredible. Not only was it great to get out of the city and get some fresh air, but the exercise was invigorating and the views of the green of ireland were astounding. See in the pictures for yourself! Overall, the day surprisingly lacked any mishaps and was overall really good craic. Though afterwards when I got home, I would have given almost anything for a hot bath – but alas, a shower in the weird stone / outdoor / indoor shower that is in my home was what I got.

Looking out over the mountain's edge

Monday was relatively uneventful, but then yesterday (Tuesday) I got to go to riverdance! Abby and her mom had been gone since Sunday morning on a trip to a castle but arrived back last night and asked if I wanted to join them to see riverdance, which is home in its native Dublin all summer long. I didn’t necessarily have expectations for the performance, but let me say – if I did, it would have absolutely blown them out of the water. I wasn’t very impressed by their website, which deems riverdance “the Irish dancing phenomenon” but honestly those words describe it quite perfectly. Coming from someone who is very familiar with dance myself – I took classes for 13 years and have seen performances at all levels – this was amazing. I didn’t know people could do that. I didn’t actually know that it was humanly possible. When I heard someone blasting abba’s “Dancing Queen” outside of my office building today that, coupled with the memories from riverdance last night (I swear I was tapping my feet under my char almost the whole time… old habits die hard!) made me want to drop out of school and become a professional dancer. I’m seriously questioning my status as a student right now, because a life of dancing seems so much more appealing. Anyway click here to see a little (minute portion that totally doesn’t do it justice) of what I saw last night.

Beautiful

Today was again relatively uneventful but a good day in the office as I got to finally speak to Betty, the head teacher of one of Suas’ partner schools in Kenya and a charming woman. I’m working on a project with her that will hopefully continue on its way tomorrow. 

Tomorrow night I leave for Galway! Then Friday I’m going to the Cliffs of Moher, Saturday to the Aran Islands, and then Sunday exploring Galway itself before coming back to Dublin. I’m going with Marissa and several other friends / acquaintences / good people are joining us along the way. It should be a good weekend, and I’ll have lots to write after!!

Cheers,

Katie

Sunday, July 20th, 2008: This is the day (well, one day of the two-day trip) that I climed Mt. Fuji in Japan. This is also exactly one year ago today. If you didn’t read about it then, you can read about it here. 

I know it may seem like a strange thing to dwell on, but I wondered then (and have wondered sporadically over the past year) when I would get to the point where my mind had forgotten enough of

The group of us at a rest stop. We still look happy! Must have been early in the hike.

the pain of the climb to say that I would do it again – as in do it a second time, not would I repeat another first-time journey (that would be a yes!) After spending all day yesterday hiking in the Wicklow Mountains of Ireland, something not even 1/100th as painful or cold as the Mt. Fuji hike, I feel the need to finally admit: perhaps I was a bit dramatic about the hike last year. Because, if truth be told, the pain of the memory has faded.

I’ve never really loved running or anything like that. I like playing sports, like field hockey, that have a purpose, and I like taking classes that have an end or a structure. Running just always seemed sort of pointless to me, no matter how much I tried to like it – the runner’s high alluded me time and time again. After climbing Mt. Fuji last summer, I had no such thing as a “climber’s high” – I just wanted to shower the layers and layers of dirt off of me and out of my teeth, then lie in bed for an unbelievable number of hours.

Looking back on it now, though, I have a sort of climber’s high in retrospect – it is something that I am really proud of myself for doing, a wonderful and beautiful experience that I will never forget. Though the mountain certainly is no Everest, climbing something that high is still a feat that most won’t accomplish in their lifetime. At Harvard during section, when the TF (like a teaching assistant) is trying to make the first day ice-breakers interesting, we are supposed to say name, house, concentration, and something interesting about ourselves. This year, I had a standard answer that I was proud of:

“I’m Katie, I live in Adams and concentrate in Sociology with a secondary in Gov, and last summer I climbed Mt. Fuji.”

The sun at the horizon

Whether or not that sounds thrilling and exciting for you, I can tell you that it still is one of the best experiences that I’ve had – honest proof that only with hard work (read: a 10-hour night climb with oxygen tank) can you reap great rewards (an unbelievable sunrise above cloud level from 12,000 feet in the air). 

And I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

Tuesday night Abby and I went out with one of her co-workers who goes to school in Kansas and her friends. It was a good group of about 15 of us – Tuesday nights are slow here (apparently a recent outcome of the downfall in the economy, say the bartenders) but it was still good craic (Gaelic, or ‘Irish’ for fun – pronounced “crack”, like the drug… yes, it is still interesting to hear someone say on their way out of a pub, “They have such good craic in there tonight!”).

Wednesday, Abby and I went to see HARRY POTTER. Come on, did you really expect anything less from me? Being the epic undercover nerd, we got there about an hour early to find that tickets were already sold out (good thing we pre-bought ours online!) and the line to see the show was already out the door. The theater we went to, called ‘Savoy’, is on O’Connell Street (fun fact: one of the widest streets in all of Europe!); needless to say, the sidewalk is huge. However, the line that formed outside of the theater to enter the magical world of Harry Potter overwhelmed the sidewalk. The show was sold out, and the astoundingly large theater it was showing in (with an absolutely HUGE screen! 4 times the size of a normal screen in the U.S.) seats 760 people. There were actually 760 people lined up on this one sidewalk on the street in Dublin; it was a sight to behold. Thanks to our early arrival time, we were definitely in the first 100 or so, which means we secured solid seats at the end of a row. The movie was good (though they did leave out some pretty important parts of the book)… again, as I have the tendency to do, I went into it thinking I had forgotten everything that happened in the book and then 10 minutes into it suddenly remembered everything. Anyway, the show was good and the ridiculous experience of the massive theater was even better!

Thursday, I left work early to go to an event with the Harvard Club of Ireland. The two other Harvard interns in Ireland, one I have traveled with and one who works in the same building as myself, both were there as well. On my way home I bought a new pair of shoes and by the time I had met Marissa and we had walked together to the Club I had massive blisters on my feet which was, needless to say, extremely unpleasant – for some reason I always seem to do that! And for future reference, Mom, I NEVER should have taken those black heels out of my suitcase – I didn’t bring enough shoes!! When we got to the club the secretary directed us across the street to a bigger building because apparently more people showed up than originally expected – the building was one owned by the National Gallery of Ireland and was absolutely beautiful! Paintings on the wall, marble floors, crystal chandeliers… it was a sight to behold. There were probably about 50 people at the reception, mostly Harvard affiliates or a guest who had been invited by the President of the Harvard Club of Ireland. There were also several media personalities on hand – I did not know this previously, but the man we were to hear speak – Charlie McCreevy – is a pretty big deal. He is currently the European Commissioner and previously served as several different Ministers in Ireland – one of the most famous and well-known Irish politicians. Politics in Ireland is much more local- and community- based, though, so he was really down to earth and friendly.

When we first arrived, we were greeted warmly by the president of the Harvard Club, again someone who is apparently quite a big deal over here. Almost everyone there was older and a banker / economist / journalist, the crowd all seemed to know each other, but it was great to meet them all and everyone was so friendly. There were two young people there, one man and one woman, who were both very friendly and offered to meet up with us sometime in Dublin and show us around. After meeting all of the wonderful people affiliated with the HCofI, I wish I had the opportunity to meet these people earlier in my trip!

Last night, we went out to dinner at a wonderful tiny seafood restaurant near our house… fancy but fabulous. I had the Sole au Gratin and Bailey’s cheesecake for dessert… a must have if you’re in Dublin! Now I’m off for the day, sightseeing by myself, and tomorrow hiking in the wonderful Wicklow mountains.. I’m sure I’ll have much to report on later in the week !!

Cheers!

Katie

Blarney Castle... or what is left of it!

Ireland is not a land that I consider extremely political; in fact, most people here will tell you that they don’t really care about “all that political crap” at all. This is all good and possibly true, however in my experience here I find that at least 80% of the people I speak to, whether in a business context or at a pub, somehow manage to bring up Obama in the conversation. I start talking to a guy, of course one of the first questions is where I’m from, what I’m doing here, I’m a university student interning here for the summer, etc. I am still unclear when this conversation takes a turn for the worse to go down the “path of no return”, as I like to call it, but somehow this nice, breezy conversation with the guy at the pub turns into some long, boring, unnecessary praise / critique / opinion of Obama’s presidency and the American political system. I never through I was the type that screamed I-want-to-talk-politics-while-out-on-a-Friday-night, but apparently I’m mistaken. This happens EVERYWHERE Abby and I go, and it usually takes about 15 minutes before we are able to politely slip out of the conversation – 15 miserable minutes listening to some opinion of Obama that frankly, I don’t really care about. I hear enough about politics at school: one of the more annoying things about going to school with thousands of the brightest students in the world is that they always think they are right and feel compelled to share that with the people they meet. Now I’ve come to realize that maybe it’s just me: Perhaps I’ll always be a target for unwanted political debates / one sided opinions no matter where I go. Blame it on me being a good listener.

Even though I haven’t updated in more than a week, I don’t really think I have that much more to say! Last weekend I did end up going to Cork, which was a great time. We saw a 18th-century

A beautiful day in Cork!

prison (probably my favourite part of the weekend! So creepy) and got a guided tour of the prison via headset – good thing I still remember how to use cassette players, though it did take a few minutes to jog my memory. It was a beautiful day that Saturday, so after we visited the jail we walked around Cork and saw all kinds of churches / monuments / parks. Saturday night we went to a FABULOUS dinner at this really nice restaurant. We had a view overlooking some waterfall and the food was amazing; we probably got there around 9:30 or so and ended up staying until closing, some 3 hours later. It was the kind of dinner that I can’t afford but also the kind of dinner that I love!

Sunday we went to see the Blarney stone and Blarney Castle. For those of you who don’t know, the castle is a medieval stronghold that actually dates from before 1200. Today the castle is

Prisoner

definitely at least partially destroyed, but the famed “stone of eloquence”, otherwise known as the Blarney Stone, still resides at the very top of the castle. The castle itself really isn’t that amazing, but the whole point of going (besides the fact that being a tourist pretty much necessitates a trip there) is to kiss the Blarney stone to gain the famed “gift of gab” that a visitor purportedly acquires from the kiss. Millions of visitors each year kiss the stone, and on the climb to the top of the castle, there are little signs with Irish anecdotes and facts about who has kissed the stone to read and get you excited about doing it. This was all fun, and by the time we got to the top and got into line I was actually pretty excited to do such an “Irish” thing (read: something that none of the actual Irish have ever done but every visitor feels compelled to do). Then, just as we climbed into the exposed, true top of the castle, it started to downpour.

Ireland’s weather is always completely and totally unpredictable. I think the most common weather I’ve seen here is sunny and rainy, not at different times throughout the day, but in

Kissing the Blarney Stone!

 unison: it actually does both at the same time. And I’ve only seen one rainbow! When we got to the top of the Blarney castle, though, there was no sun in sight. It was pouring and windy, the type of rain where your umbrella might actually hurt more than it does help. We were soaked by the time we got the chance to kiss the stone. Even more, I had no idea that you had to bend over backwards across a giant gap grasping metal bars and tilt your head to kiss the stone upside down at exactly the right angle. Couple all of the fun maneuvering with the torrential rain and I’d say it was one crazy experience. I’m writing this without my computer so I can’t attach pictures, but my facebook album has plenty if you want to see this all in action!

Shortly after the leaving the castle we left Cork. It was a really fun weekend in a small town, though I do have to say I am just beginning to miss the big city (Tokyo last summer was such a big difference! Even going to the other side of the city was like a full day trip.) Last week in Dublin was fun but nothing out of the ordinary… Monday two friends from home stayed with us at the end of their backpacking Europe trip so they could catch a flight from Dublin to Boston early the next morning. We went out to dinner the night before (My first traditional Irish Meal! Abby got Guinness stew, but being the vegetarian (technically, pescatarian) I am, I settled for fish and chips. It was a great meal! Tuesday I got sick and stayed home from work, and Wednesday I was still recovering. Thursday Abby and I went out to Temple Bar and heard a band, and Friday we went out until the wee hours of the morning – the sun actually DOES rise here at 4am!

Saturday and Sunday we were supposed to go away, but unfortunately rain was predicted so we had to cancel our sightseeing trip. In actuality, it didn’t rain as much as expected here, but it was still a dreary day and therefore a slow / sleepy weekend. This coming Friday Abby’s mom is going to be here, which will be fun to have someone from home visiting! I hope to go to the Wicklow mountains if it is nice out (google image search Wicklow mountains for beautiful pictures!). I’m going out for lunch now but will write again soon! Hope all is well wherever you may be –

Katie

Since I don’t have the luxury of those places here in Ireland, I’ve settled for taking walks. Its light here until after 10, and usually a perfect temperature outside for a walk. Even more, it has hardly rained since I got here. Going for walks is nice and there is a beautiful park nearby, right next to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, with benches and kids and good old Irish fun. But today – today was bad. Because I discovered that place where I feel better – and it isn’t taking a walk. Unfortunately, it is much less cost-efficient than that. It is when I am in a taxi.

Dublin at dusk along the River Liffey

Don’t laugh right away! Boston taxis are sketchy, NY taxis smell badly, and generally this is not somewhere I would like. But here, not only are the taxis themselves a million times nicer, but the drivers are some of the most interesting, friendly, funny and knowledgeable people I’ve met. They are always giving advice, telling stories, pointing out things to me – like today, I learned where every embassy in Ireland was, had the seal of Dublin pointed out to me and explained (three flaming castles in a blue shield), and also was given three recommendations for fun restaurants and pubs. And they are all like this! When we had to take a taxi to the hospital back when Abby was sick, our taxi driver was so nice about it, asking if we needed him to walk us in, giving us his blessings, joking, laughing, and telling her to eat bananas after a long night out next time (bananas? really?) They are not creepy, not weird, not sketchy – they are some of the nicest people around. I feel at home in taxis now. Bad news for the bank account.

Okay, enough rambling about that. I wish I could update more, but honestly life is fairly normal here. Last week was a good week at work, and my communications project is going well – I’m truly learning a lot about not only Suas but non-profit agencies and general, as well as communications / marketing techniques. Friday night Abby and I went to listen to traditional Irish music at our favorite pub, and Saturday, though we had plans to visit sites, we promptly cancelled them when we realized how wonderful it was outside. Yes, that previous entry was not a typo – sunny and 80, perfect sundress weather. We went to the bookstore, then Starbucks, then sat in the park – that is probably close as close to a perfect afternoon as you can get. 

Saturday night,  we went out, but had decided to come back fairly early when we ran into a Stag party. In the UK and in Ireland, it is customary for a bride and groom to be to have not a bachelor or bachelorette party, but instead have a “stag” (male) or “hen” (female) party. If you’ve ever seen movies that have weddings on this side of the atlantic – Made of Honor, or the Wedding Date, perhaps – you would have seen this. In reality, it is so much cooler. The Hen parties are crazy, with the women all wearing matching tutus and customized t-shirts and crowns and devil ears and all sorts of things. The stag party is less flashy, but seriously – just as fun. The group of guys guilted Abby and I into hanging out with them for a little bit, which was actually really fun. The night culminated into the pub / club we were at playing one of my favorite spanish songs “La Camisa Negra” a song that both Abby and I happen to know from Ms. Alonso’s spanish class senior year of high school – we still knew every word, and skillfully nearly every person in the bar with our intricate knowledge of the Spanish culture. Maybe that was just in my head… but I still think it was very cool.

Sunday we went to Howth for a charity walk to benefit the nonprofit agency abby is working for. Howth is a suburb of Dublin right on the ocean, and the “Howth Walk” event was a guided

Standing at the very edge of the Cliffs in Howth

historical tour of the cliffside. For some reason, when I think cliffside, I think like railing, you lean over cliff, okay cool – sort of like Niagra falls or some tourist sight like that where there’s really no danger. These cliffs – so so so different. It was like flashback to Mt. Fuji last summer, except this time I would have tumbled down a cliff into the rocky, shallow ocean. One wrong step – I know it is horrible to say but honestly I’m surprised our entire group made it back in one piece, with how steep and slippery that hike was. The pictures above are from that hike – it was scary but a lot of fun! 

After loosing the trail and walking through random meadows in the Irish countryside for a while, we came back to civilization and went to Abby’s boss’s house for a BBQ -

Walking along the path

 totally American style. They even bought veggie burgers just for me, so it was nothing short of perfect. The “young group” of us – three girls from University of Kansas (also affiliated with Abby’s nonprofit), two young guys who worked with her, and Abby and myself – all watched the US play Brazil in the final soccer (football) match. We won’t continue down that road, because the outcome was not so great – but I will say now, not only is American football called football here, but so is soccer, and on top of that, so is Gaelic football (a somewhat mad game that Irish people still play). There are three games all called football. It blows my mind. Hasn’t anyone heard of originality?

Sunday was fun, this week has been good. Today I went to a Fundraising / Social Media conference at the Four Seasons Dublin. It was very nice and also made me feel very, very professional. As much as I love my little house in the heart of Dublin, with all its character, it would be tempting to pack up and move into that beautiful hotel for the remainder of the summer. If only!

This entry is getting long, so I’m off to continue reading – if I told you how many books I had read so far this summer, you would probably be appalled and / or call me a Harvard nerd – I guess either reaction is fair. I still can’t used to this, going from being insanely, ridiculously, unbelievably busy all school year to having really not much to do at all over the summer. I’m not sure if I like it, to be honest – I wish things could be more spread out.

I probably won’t write again until after this weekend. Marissa, another Harvard student in Ireland, and I are going to Cork for the entire weekend – yes, we will see the Blarney Castle and yes, I will kiss the Blarney Stone! More to come after that – and enjoy the 4th of July in the US enough for you and me (In the past 6 summers, I’ve only spend one in the US for the 4th of July).

Write emails if you can!

Love,

Katie

So last week, as I was going about getting ready for work, I had just finished drying my hair and went to plug my straightner into the wall, just to get out a wave in my hair that had awkwardly decided to form near the top of my head. You need a voltage converter here, as Europe runs on a 220v system while US appliances can generally only handle 110v, half that amount; so, I plugged the straighter into the wall with the converter plug, left it on my bed on top of a heat-proof pouch, and went to the kitchen to make my absolutely delicious instant coffee that I force myself to choke down most mornings when I would rather drink dirt than feel like I’m going to die of sleep deprivation at work. After excitedly mixing my coffee, I went back into my room and picked up my straighter – only to discover a little problem: the two plates were falling off, pink goo preventing them from falling on me and severely burning my skin. Better yet, the plates had turned brown and singed, and as the goo was dripping everywhere threatening to scald me any second, I noticed that the straightner had burned through the “heat-proof” pouch and my room was now filling with smoke. Miraculously managing not to burn myself, I threw the straightner onto one of Anthony’s strange pieces of furniture – a big ridiculously heavy metal/ ceramic/ iron/ SOMETHING un-burnable table, grabbed my cup of dirt-coffee, and just ran out of the house.

This morning, after getting out of the shower, I went to go dry my hair – only to find out my hairdryer would not turn on. Thinking it was the plug converter that was broken (Ireland wall sockets take only one size plug, this awkward triangle-shaped weird looking thing, so understandably, a wall-socket converter is necessary) I ran around the house, plugging in various other appliances to this converter and then slowly coming to the realization that something was wrong. Abby noted that the internet wasn’t working this morning, and I noticed that the home computer here was turned off… I then went to try to turn on the TV and realized that no appliances that plugged into the wall were working. Though the lights and the water were still running, nothing else in the house running on electricity was working. Once again as with the straightner incident, I promptly left the house, opting to deal with the mess later. AND, I am very proud to say that (with some helpful advice from two cowokers, my landlord, my sister and my mother), Abby and I were able to fix the fuse ALL BY OURSELVES! Is it sad that I kind of feel more accomplished by this feat than I do about many other successes in my life? Maybe, but it was still a joyous moment to realize that I will not have to go to work tomorrow with my wet hair thrown back into a frizzy bun…

Enough about me and electricity!  Since I have so much to update on, I’ll opt to highlight the most exciting moments of the past week:

(1) Meeting up with a friend from high school and one of Abby’s college friends at a local pub (Whelen’s, the one that was used to film the singing scenes in P.S. I Love You… if you haven’t seen that movie, go see it!). Seems like something small, but it was so great to have a familiar face around!

(2) My coworkers have all threatened to remove the “z”, or “zed”, as they call it, key from my computer if i keep typing “organization” and “analyze” instead of organisation and analyse. I might be able to write a report in Japanese, but ask me to stop using the z key and somehow my brain can not manage.

(3) Irish people are so friendly – not in a creepy way, but in a very charming Irish way. Except the occasional man like my new friend Tibi (the only one whose name I got). Let’s just say when men here have had a few too many pints, they get TOO friendly and attempt to be too charming. Thankfully, they are usually at least somewhat intoxicated (as most Irish usually are), which means when I tell them sorry, I don’t have an Irish cell phone, they don’t notice the cell phone in my hand that I am frantically texting on, telling Abby to come to the rescue.

(4) The World’s Championship of Street Performers was going on in Dublin this weekend. Abby and I accidentally stumbled on it. Picture what that championship would entail and then let me just say – wow. 

(5) Abby and I also managed to make it to the National Gallery of Ireland this weekend. I hate to say that the collection paled in comparison to some other museums I’ve been to, but then did have one Monet which brightened my day. It made me feel slightly better to find that before we promptly left the museum due to the security guard that had been stalking us all over the huge museum – and not in an I-think-you’re-stealing way, but in a you-are-the-only-people-remotely-close-to-my-age-I’ve-seen-all-day-and-I’m-going-to-be-creepy way. 

(6) While out at the pub this weekend, the by and large most popular opening pick-up line was “so… Did you go see Britney tonight?” Apparently Britney Spears was in Dublin preforming concerts this weekend but seriously guys… can you at least be more creative?

That’s all for now… I’ll be sure to write more this week so that I don’t ever again have to give awkward entries like the above! and PLEASE leave comments so that I know you’re reading

Love,

Katie

There is a good chance that if you are reading this, even if you are one of my best friends or a family member, you won’t know that I am afraid of flying. This is because I’m not a grip-the-armrests, have to take anti-anxiety pills, crying and screaming type of flier. Just as I am with pain (if something is really painful, I won’t show it) I don’t show my fear. Instead I just keep it all inside, internally knowing that the plane will crash and I will most likely die. Yes, I am aware that this is an illegitimate fear; yes, I know that I have a higher chance of dying in the car on the way to the airport. Still, scares the hell out of me. For this reason, I didn’t really think about what would happen after we got off of the plane in Dublin. I knew I had directions to the house, but I didn’t have any keys to get in Somehow, I thought this would be okay. Well… that isn’t exactly what happened.

Our flight landed early, and we got through customs in Ireland quickly. Our bags were some of the first off the plane. When we went outside to get a taxi, there wasn’t even a line. All of this meant that we ended up outside of the house we are renting at 6am. With no keys. The man we are renting the house from is already in India for the summer, and in our email correspondence he preferred to write in what can only be described as definitely incomplete sentences (think: “key in box of June 2”. What does this mean? I have no idea.) So since it was early, and we had no number for his friend Shiva who was supposed to meet us at the house at 8am, we camped outside the door to the house with all our luggage (picture below). At this point we were absolutely exhausted and so I made my suitcase into a makeshift bed… definitely not comfortable. At the very least, it wasn’t raining.

After 2 hours of camping outside of the door, we just wanted his friend to be there. After two and a half hours (and having no phone number for this friend) we just wanted to sleep. We were angry, tired, hungry, and irritated. One of the other neighbors kept opening her door, peeking out, and then slamming it in our face. Finally, another neighbor came outside, and I went up and asked her if she knew anyone named Shiva or what was going on in the situation. She was so incredibly nice to us, insisted that we bring our bags inside her house and sit down for a cup of tea while we used her computer and phone to figure things out. She then left us there alone, as she had an appointment to go to – this was our first taste of how nice people are in Ireland. She left us in her house, two perfect strangers that probably looked more like hobos than trustworthy young adults, to do what we please. Ending of this story is we got a hold of the landlord’s friend Shiva (who had been in the house all along! Apparently he didn’t wake to our incessant knocking and talking right outside his door…) and were able to settle in.

I guess I should mention that the “we” I am talking about is my friend Abby. She is from Vermont but goes to school at Smith in Western Massachusetts; this summer, she is working at a health-based non profit agency called “CareLocal” in Dublin and we are roommates for the summer! It has worked out so well thus far to have someone with me. We’ve set up in our home that is strange and old but big and sort of nice… it is hard to describe. It has two living rooms, two VERY small bedrooms, one odd bathroom, and a kitchen with the smallest refrigerator I’ve ever seen (and no oven). Again, I can’t really provide a good description, because it is hard to explain, but just take my word for it: it is just odd. Unique, to say the least.

So Saturday after we finally got into the house, we took a nap and then went out to run errands. This included a trip to our favorite 2euro store (think three dollar store: nicer than a dollar store, but still reasonably priced) as well as some grocery shopping and buying an Irisih cell phone. Cell phones are cheap (it costs less for me to call the US than it does for me to call someone else in Ireland, even though I’m using an Irish phone!) and grocery shopping was interesting; without an oven and considering the fact that we have limited budget, there are very few things I can make for dinner. Anyway, that part of the day was fun. Then, on Saturday night, we decided to go out to the pub. With no sleep and empty stomachs. Bad choice.

Saturday night was really fun in the beginning (met lots of Irish boys!), though we did come home fairly early because we were so tired. The next day around 11am, Abby woke me up saying that she had to go to the hospital because she was vomiting every 10 minutes for the past 5 hours. I would have been more freaked out but the same thing happened to my friend this year at school (thanks, Jacque!) so I had seen it before. But I rolled out of bed, called a taxi, asked for the nearest hospital, and experienced socialized healthcare for the first time. At one point, they changed Abby’s room and I didn’t know where she was, so I wandered around the hospital for 20 minutes or so looking for her. There is absolutely NO privacy in these hospitals… literally there were people with burnt faces, people who looked like they were in so much pain, just lying in one big room / hallway type thing all together. It was sooo different than the Harvard University Health Services system I am used to. Although not a fun trip… hey! I am now much more appreciative of the American health care system.

The rest of Sunday was okay… Abby was still sick, so I went for a run by myself and ran some errands. I went to bed early because today, Monday, was my first day of work! I’m working for Suas, a non-profit agency that focuses on educational development for the under privileged both in Ireland and overseas. It is difficult to explain what they do, but if you want more information, www.suas.ie is very helpful! Everyone at the office was really nice, and they are mostly young adults, which is also good for me. This week is the week they are sending out 90+ volunteers to schools in India and Kenya for the summer, so the office was sort of in overdrive… and since it was my first day and I didn’t really know what was going on, I wasn’t much help. I did have to day to read over the website and do some filing work, which was good to get me accustomed to the organization and re-familiarize myself with what they do. Overall, it was a good first day.

After I did some more grocery shopping, I came home, and Abby and I cooked dinner! I know it is a perfectly normal accomplishment, but we were so amazing proud of our pasta dinner with salad and sparkling wine. And the ranch dressing we found! We were told there was no salad dressing in Ireland, but we found  Mcennedy brand ranch dressing… plastered with the slogan “The American Way” and a massive statue of  Liberty as the picture over a red, white, and blue background. We cleaned up, went for a walk, and now are ready to go to bed and start all over tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t get a chance to update until now, but I’ve been busy! Leave comments, email me, and I’ll write again soon!

Love,

Katie