Friday, August 27, 2010

Venturing to the "North"

Finally, at the ebb of our time in Ireland, Katherine and I made it to the fabled land of Northern Ireland. If talked about at all in Cork, Ulster is usually mentioned along with a raised-eyebrows; an unspoken understanding that something's not quite right up there. Turns out that belief is not at all unfounded.

Katherine's sister Elizabeth was with us for ten days and for the first four days of that stretch we explored the capital of Protestant Ireland: Belfast. I learned much about the history of the Troubles and Catholic/Protestant violence in general, and I won't bore you with all of nuances. I'll just say that the Troubles were worse than you thought they were and, no, they're not exactly over. Well the shooting is (mostly) over, although even in 2010 an occasional British soldier is murdered and your odd car bomb goes off. But what remains is a startlingly segregated society.

From the American point-of-view one can't help but think of the Jim Crow South. Indeed, replace the word "black" with "Catholic," and you're on your way to understanding how Belfast and Ulster operate. Catholics are now allowed to serve in the police force (they now constitute nearly 30% of the officers) and they've even had Catholic Sinn Féin Lord Mayors. But it was unbelievable to hear, on a tour of West Belfast, that in all of Northern Ireland "there are now sixty integrated schools. It's not much, but it's a good start."

In the middle ground, the main "Peace Wall" in West Belfast between Catholic Falls and Protestant Shankill.

Going a bit farther than the American South are the so-called "Peace Walls" erected in Belfast and throughout the North. These are thirty and forty-foot tall barriers separating Catholic and Protestant neighborhoods, and the oldest ones have been up for nearly forty years. The homes next to the walls have protective barriers to deflect petrol bombs and other explosives that could be hurled over from the other side. And far from being just a holdover from the Troubles, they are actually still building Peace Walls in volatile neighborhoods throughout the North.

As you can tell, for me the main attraction of the city was its politics, past and present. We hit up the famous political murals, an obligatory exercise for any first-time Belfast experience. But there was more than the Troubles. There was the Crown Liquor Saloon, the most visually stimulating bar I've ever set foot in. It's like drinking in a work of art: from the Italian-made painted tin ceiling, to the hand-carved and luxuriously decorated drinking booths, to the beautiful painted ceramic tiles covering almost every surface, you actually enjoy looking around more than the very good Guinness they sell. And it's right across the street from the Europa, "the most bombed hotel in the world."

Probably the most famous mural, this painting on the Sinn Féin HQ depicts Bobby Sands, the first of ten IRA men to die on a hunger strike in British prison in the early 1980s.


This charming number greets you while you're walking down toward Queens University. The Loyalist murals are almost always more militaristic and, well, terrifying.

Other worthy sights are Queens University and the magnificent Botanic Gardens. The Ulster Museum––located conveniently in the Gardens––is world-class.

A flower in one of the Botanic Gardens glass houses.

The sisters in the opulent city hall of Belfast. This rebuilt room actually suffered a direct hit from a Luftwaffe bomb during the Battle of Britain.

Elizabeth left for the States today, leaving Katherine and I about a week to prepare for our final foray into the Continent. We're visiting Switzerland after many suggestions to do so from Katherine's grandparents––just as important, though, is meeting up with Swiss friends we made during our honeymoon last year. Within days of our return to Ireland we'll be packing up and leaving Cork for good.

Monday, August 16, 2010

The Final Weeks

In a few short weeks we'll be waving goodbye to Cork from the back window of a Dublin-bound bus. It will be at least a little somber: Cork is the first place we've lived where Katherine and I feel "at home". Williamsburg, Va., always felt like the temporary trial it was; we never integrated into the community. Maybe that's because half of the community honestly thought they were living in the late-eighteenth century. Anyway, we feel welcome and plugged-in here in southern Ireland––naturally, it's always with a tinge of regret that one leaves such a welcoming environment.

On the other hand, our exit seems to be blessed with good timing. I am still out of work and there's really no hope for finding any at this point. I've been a drain on our finances for weeks now, eating and using electricity but not bringing home any dough. I try to do the laundry and go grocery-shopping to make up for this.

Furthermore, our section of town––Oliver Plunkett Street––seems to be turning against us. Ever since late-June there has been almost incessant road work, masonry work on the building next to us, painting, grinding, and jackhammering. It's a rare, very rare, day when there's any quiet. And the nights....well the nights have been loud too. I have the uncharacteristically good summer weather to thank: warm, clear evenings mean droves of revelers walk around the city at all hours creating all sorts of noise. Sometimes they like to camp out right in front of our building and sing loudly. At 3:00 a.m. Lovely. Last night seemed to be one of those uncommon respites. That is, until 12:30 a.m., when a neighbor's small dog started barking hysterically for several hours.

It's like the city is trying to tell us "'Tis time to go".

***
As for our European travels? Honestly I thought we were done after the Germany trip. Not so: we are, inexplicably, going to go to Switzerland for five days in early September. Katherine's late grandfather highly recommended la Suisse to us (Basel in particular), and we figured that actually going is a good way to honor him. It seems crazy but the tickets are booked and there's no backing out now. We'll get back to Cork with four days left on our lease.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

A Long, Dismal Absence

I know, I know. I've neglected my responsibilities. But in a way I have been saving you all from exceedingly dull reading––nothing much has happened! As with the past few entries, employment prospects are, well, nonexistent. Also working against me is my ever-shortening timetable: we're in Cork for only another six weeks. So I would either have to lie to a potential employer about the permanence of my residency, or tell the truth and not be hired.

So as you call can imagine, I'm planning on no more work in Ireland. I gave it my best shot! And grumble though I did, the warehouse gig saved us. Without that there would have been a much earlier departure for the USA.

Another factor working against my blogging proclivity is, simply, cultural acclimation. After nearly a year in Ireland the glossy novelty has worn off. Our way of life, the sights, the food, the accents, driving on the left side of the road, all of this seems more or less normal. I don't even give it a second thought anymore.

That's not to say that we're not trying to explore anymore. Here's some photographic proof of what I've been up to recently:

The around-the-world Clipper race made it's annual stop in Cork harbour in early July. The clippers are sponsored by cities, countries, and other types of localities from all over the world.

California's clipper was the lone USA representative that I saw in Cork. The crew was, charmingly, singing "Born in the USA."

July 15: My birthday. The big 2-5. Katherine got me a cappuccino cake from the Natural Foods Bakery. Best cake money can buy.

Also in mid-July: my little sister Caitlin came to visit us. After my birthday we went to Cape Clear Island for a couple of days. Clear Island is the most southerly point in the Republic of Ireland (and thus has the southernmost authentic Irish pub in the world). As seen here, the scenery on the ferry ride to the island was pleasing.

We were joined by our friend Meredith, on the left. The views on Clear Island were generally beautiful, like this shot of the South Harbour. Even though it rained for the entirety of our stay we still managed to hike around and enjoy the sights.

It's hard to believe that in six weeks we'll be bidding adieu to Cork. For the latter half of September we are cruising around the island with Katherine's mother and grandmother, and then we depart for the States on September 30. I will keep up with Éire Apparent while I'm still in residence, so be sure to keep popping in!