6 March 2007
Well, I found out what my “jesus birds” are called… they’re actually moorhens. It was somewhat anti-climactic. Darn. Moorhens? That’s all? Oh well. I was hoping for something more dramatic. Like the tufted ducks. Now they are dramatic. They look just like their name implies. Kind of samurai ducks with black heads and a tuft of black feathers all slicked back. I still like the moorhens, though.
Today was our first day of classes. We hiked through downtown Dublin with our professors along the Grand Canal south for about half an hour to get to the campus of Griffith College, where we are using one of their lecture halls for our three hours of class. Out of Irish art history, Irish literature, and Celtic Spirituality and Religion, the spirituality and religion class looks to be my favorite thus far. The classes are all a decent amount of reading and work, but the load is definitely lighter than what I am used to taking, especially without all the extracurricular activities. I really miss dancing already. I’ve mambo’d in the room once for a minute or two, and everytime I hear music I feel like grooving. Salsa doesn’t seem big here at all.
It’s strange to be sitting in a hotel room working on homework for class or listening to lectures in a classroom not of Augustana. I think it’s finally sinking in that Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. As far as cities go, I like Dublin just fine. Actually, Chicago is a lot bigger and a lot more dangerous. Well, except for the traffic. The traffic here is crazy. Pedestrian traffic and vehicle traffic was summed up nicely for me when a little old man with a cane said to Ann and I while we were waiting for the crosswalk: “Just cross when you get the chance, ladies!” as he hobbled past us, very nearly colliding with an oncoming Ford. I was trying to figure out one day what the “rules” for foot traffic on the sidewalk were. For instance, do you walk on the right side or left side of the sidewalk? The answer is both and neither. The only rule is that there are no rules. Basically every encounter with an oncoming fellow pedestrian is a game of chicken: who will move out of the way first? It drives me nuts!
In my past entry I neglected to say that I experienced my first pub this past Saturday! A group of five other students, Dr. Connolly, and I went to the little pub called “Wellington’s” at the end of the street to hear some piano jazz (I wish it would have been traditional Celtic music.) and have a pint. The music was good, and oddly enough, so was the pint. Everyone at home said “Oh, Steph, if you don’t like beer, there’s no way you’ll like Guinness,” but, ah, they were wrong. It’s not my favorite beverage of choice, but I liked it and will definitely be ordering some more later. I don’t really remember what beer is supposed to taste like, but to me, Guinness (or “the black stuff” as the bartender called it) tastes like a combination of unsweetened coffee, dry wine, and flat pepsi. Not too bad. And Dr. Connolly taught me a nifty bar trick: I can now flip a coaster off the ledge of a bar and catch it with the same hand. No small feat considering my lack of coordination. He said he’d teach me another one once we got to Cork. Oh, the liberal arts education.
Yesterday, we saw St. Patrick’s Cathedral and Christchurch Cathedral, both of which used to be Catholic cathedrals which then became Anglican sometime when the English were in charge. We also saw Dublin castle (which is unfortunately mostly un-medieval), but I found that I adore cathedrals. I never knew just how amazing they were. The outsides are so intricate and beautiful, but even moreso, I love the inside. I was just dazzled by the stained glass and the stonework and the ceilings. A very unimpressive Boston College Chorale was singing there when we arrived, but I imagine a good choir would have endless reverb in there. The depiction of saints and Jesus and famous cathedral deans in statue form were just fascinating. Especially growing up UCC and especially in the more Congregational vein that descends from the clean uncluttered and plain Puritan style, the high church and very ornate styling is endlessly intruiging. After wandering around feasting my eyes for a bit, I found a little side chapel set aside for prayer and meditation where a small altar was set up behind a rope and little rows of candles flickered. I made a little offering that went towards a homeless shelter, lit a candle, and sat down to just soak it all in and feel close to God. It’s easy to feel close to God in a cathedral, or rather it’s easy to believe that there’s a part of you that’s connected. Not only to God, but to your most inner self, the sacred place you’re in, those who came before you, those who share the space now, and those who will share it later. Eventually, I got up and sat in very, very uncomfortable pew-chairs to listen to that less than mediocre choir, but that feeling of peace stayed with me the rest of the day.
Today we saw the Book of Kells, a 9th Century manuscript of the gospels created mostly, if not totally, in Ireland now housed at Trinity College. It was fantastic! The colors were so vibrant, and the detail was so intricate. That the book is so well preserved astounds me. I could have looked at it for hours. I tried to use my fledgling Latin skills to read it, but script is very difficult, especially when your Latin is poor. It looked so fresh and bright, though, not at all like the often dim or fuzzy photographs found in books.
I think that’s about it, now that I’ve completely caught up with missing a couple days of journaling. Oh, I do have a list of things I miss now that I think I’ll miss more as time goes on.:
1) Family/friends… though I am making many new friends here, I still wish the old ones were along for the ride at times and what’s travel without family?
2) A certain tall, studious, salsa-dancing vice-president of swing.
3) Dance. Singing. Clarence... but especially dance. Especially salsa.
4) Softcheeks, my stuffed bunny. I have nothing to snuggle with at night except an extra pillow. It’s sad and lonely with nary a stuffed snuggle buddy.
5) Peanut butter. I’m sick of pasta for dinner (the only vegetarian option here. They call vegetarians “veggies” here.) because I’ve eaten more Italian food since coming to Ireland than anything else. All I want is some nice peanut butter and no more of the fancy dessert the hotel serves. I miss my spartan collegiate diet, though it is nice not to have to cook. Complain, complain, complain… poor Steph.
Well, I found out what my “jesus birds” are called… they’re actually moorhens. It was somewhat anti-climactic. Darn. Moorhens? That’s all? Oh well. I was hoping for something more dramatic. Like the tufted ducks. Now they are dramatic. They look just like their name implies. Kind of samurai ducks with black heads and a tuft of black feathers all slicked back. I still like the moorhens, though.
Today was our first day of classes. We hiked through downtown Dublin with our professors along the Grand Canal south for about half an hour to get to the campus of Griffith College, where we are using one of their lecture halls for our three hours of class. Out of Irish art history, Irish literature, and Celtic Spirituality and Religion, the spirituality and religion class looks to be my favorite thus far. The classes are all a decent amount of reading and work, but the load is definitely lighter than what I am used to taking, especially without all the extracurricular activities. I really miss dancing already. I’ve mambo’d in the room once for a minute or two, and everytime I hear music I feel like grooving. Salsa doesn’t seem big here at all.
It’s strange to be sitting in a hotel room working on homework for class or listening to lectures in a classroom not of Augustana. I think it’s finally sinking in that Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore. As far as cities go, I like Dublin just fine. Actually, Chicago is a lot bigger and a lot more dangerous. Well, except for the traffic. The traffic here is crazy. Pedestrian traffic and vehicle traffic was summed up nicely for me when a little old man with a cane said to Ann and I while we were waiting for the crosswalk: “Just cross when you get the chance, ladies!” as he hobbled past us, very nearly colliding with an oncoming Ford. I was trying to figure out one day what the “rules” for foot traffic on the sidewalk were. For instance, do you walk on the right side or left side of the sidewalk? The answer is both and neither. The only rule is that there are no rules. Basically every encounter with an oncoming fellow pedestrian is a game of chicken: who will move out of the way first? It drives me nuts!
In my past entry I neglected to say that I experienced my first pub this past Saturday! A group of five other students, Dr. Connolly, and I went to the little pub called “Wellington’s” at the end of the street to hear some piano jazz (I wish it would have been traditional Celtic music.) and have a pint. The music was good, and oddly enough, so was the pint. Everyone at home said “Oh, Steph, if you don’t like beer, there’s no way you’ll like Guinness,” but, ah, they were wrong. It’s not my favorite beverage of choice, but I liked it and will definitely be ordering some more later. I don’t really remember what beer is supposed to taste like, but to me, Guinness (or “the black stuff” as the bartender called it) tastes like a combination of unsweetened coffee, dry wine, and flat pepsi. Not too bad. And Dr. Connolly taught me a nifty bar trick: I can now flip a coaster off the ledge of a bar and catch it with the same hand. No small feat considering my lack of coordination. He said he’d teach me another one once we got to Cork. Oh, the liberal arts education.
Yesterday, we saw St. Patrick’s Cathedral and Christchurch Cathedral, both of which used to be Catholic cathedrals which then became Anglican sometime when the English were in charge. We also saw Dublin castle (which is unfortunately mostly un-medieval), but I found that I adore cathedrals. I never knew just how amazing they were. The outsides are so intricate and beautiful, but even moreso, I love the inside. I was just dazzled by the stained glass and the stonework and the ceilings. A very unimpressive Boston College Chorale was singing there when we arrived, but I imagine a good choir would have endless reverb in there. The depiction of saints and Jesus and famous cathedral deans in statue form were just fascinating. Especially growing up UCC and especially in the more Congregational vein that descends from the clean uncluttered and plain Puritan style, the high church and very ornate styling is endlessly intruiging. After wandering around feasting my eyes for a bit, I found a little side chapel set aside for prayer and meditation where a small altar was set up behind a rope and little rows of candles flickered. I made a little offering that went towards a homeless shelter, lit a candle, and sat down to just soak it all in and feel close to God. It’s easy to feel close to God in a cathedral, or rather it’s easy to believe that there’s a part of you that’s connected. Not only to God, but to your most inner self, the sacred place you’re in, those who came before you, those who share the space now, and those who will share it later. Eventually, I got up and sat in very, very uncomfortable pew-chairs to listen to that less than mediocre choir, but that feeling of peace stayed with me the rest of the day.Today we saw the Book of Kells, a 9th Century manuscript of the gospels created mostly, if not totally, in Ireland now housed at Trinity College. It was fantastic! The colors were so vibrant, and the detail was so intricate. That the book is so well preserved astounds me. I could have looked at it for hours. I tried to use my fledgling Latin skills to read it, but script is very difficult, especially when your Latin is poor. It looked so fresh and bright, though, not at all like the often dim or fuzzy photographs found in books.
I think that’s about it, now that I’ve completely caught up with missing a couple days of journaling. Oh, I do have a list of things I miss now that I think I’ll miss more as time goes on.:
1) Family/friends… though I am making many new friends here, I still wish the old ones were along for the ride at times and what’s travel without family?
2) A certain tall, studious, salsa-dancing vice-president of swing.
3) Dance. Singing. Clarence... but especially dance. Especially salsa.
4) Softcheeks, my stuffed bunny. I have nothing to snuggle with at night except an extra pillow. It’s sad and lonely with nary a stuffed snuggle buddy.
5) Peanut butter. I’m sick of pasta for dinner (the only vegetarian option here. They call vegetarians “veggies” here.) because I’ve eaten more Italian food since coming to Ireland than anything else. All I want is some nice peanut butter and no more of the fancy dessert the hotel serves. I miss my spartan collegiate diet, though it is nice not to have to cook. Complain, complain, complain… poor Steph.
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