May the Road Rise to Meet You: Dublin Week 5    

    To my left a St. Bernard dog follows me with his large droopy face and muddy paws, to my right hills of green gleam in the sun outlined by windmills and hints of the distant sea. After a night of good Irish fun at my roommate’s 21st birthday, I woke up before the others to take a Sunday morning walk along the country road. Again there are similarities, I swear I’ve seen these ditches searching for caterpillars on my childhood friend’s farm in Iowa, but when I look up the hills and green are overwhelmingly other.
I didn't get a picture-but it looked something like this....except with more sun, windmills, ect..

    Last week started off bittersweet, I had the chance to experience the musical Once which takes place in Dublin. The music from it is written by an Irish and Czech musician who starred in the original movie. The light-hearted and subtle nature of the performance seemed to capture the Irish spirit well. I couldn’t properly enjoy the beautiful music because of a stomach ache (bad salmon) but it was worth it nonetheless.
    In the story, the Irish man known simply as “guy” write beautiful songs, but because they reminds him of his broken heart, he does not play them often. The Czech girl urges him to record an album and go back to his love. Guy is paralleled with the city of Dublin and presented as an underdog. As I’m learning more about Irish history and its people, I’ve noticed this is a common theme. While powerful institutions such as the Catholic church and United Kingdom have tried to define the Irish people, they have expressed their independence through their art and culture. Yet it seems pride is not something Irish people wear comfortably. Humility and borderline complacency sometimes cover those talents.
    The next day I got to feel more like a foreigner. We went to the immigration bureau in city centre to get our visa cards. The place was packed with a variety of people. Some were families with small children, and it made me wonder what had brought them to Dublin. Behind every face there was a story, a place that was left, a home that was shifted. Dublin is my home until May, but I can’t picture it as my home for life.
    Later in the week my group and I got a taste of home at an Australian karaoke bar which served pina coladas by the jug. We sang “friends in low places,” danced with some Dublin boys and had a great time. This was only a starter for Saturday night. Back to my roommate’s party, which was at her home outside of Wexford. Although I was in a house of people I don’t know being the only American, it didn’t feel that way. Everyone was very friendly and laid-back. We partied and danced all night and in the morning enjoyed a traditional Irish breakfast made by my roommate’s mom (or I guess I should say mum here). I had my first experience of going to a pub on a Sunday afternoon, which was surprisingly pretty packed. There I was feeling completely comfortable with people I had just met. It was great “craic.” (here that means fun, not the illegal drug).