Belfast

So last weekend my roommate and I went to Belfast. One of the most interesting cities I have ever been in.

We get there by taking a bus to Dublin and then another bus to Belfast. We arrived there sometime around 11:30 PM. Now, I have mapquested our hostel but I have no idea where we are. So we are told by a cab driver that it's just down the road. Comforting at 11:30 PM. We walk down the road a little bit and see this picture.

Toto, I don't think we are in Cork anymore. We find our hostel a little bit down the road from here and pretty much crash. The next morning we are up, bright and early, because it is Giant's Causeway day. We find out that a tour leaves from our hostel. PERFECT. So we get on and find out our first location is the Carrick a Rede Rope Bridge. This rope bridge was constructed 90 feet above the water by fisherman to collect salmon. Now there are no salmon left but the bridge is there. So we decided to cross it and it's a little bit scary.  It is a little more bouncy than I would have liked and a bit windy but we crossed the bridge. Here's a picture of what the bridge looks like.

Next stop is Dunlace Castle. In good Irish fashion, the bus driver decides to tell us a story about the castle. Supposedly there was a party going on, but the wind was a whipping, the rain was a slapping and all of a sudden the crowd heard a large bang. They run outside and think it is lightening. But oh no, the kitchen and part of the cliff has fallen into the ocean. (This is the part where I go, "WHAT???") Anyway the wife didn't want this to happen again so she moved the family somewhere else. Good call, that's a very good call.

After Dunlace, we had lunch at the Bushmills Distillery. We didn't actually tour the distillery but I ate a very delicious Guinness and beef pie. Finally after Bushmills, it was time for Giant's Causeway. Now there is the boring story of how the rocks are formed which was volcanic eruption...or the fun Irish one. So back in the day, Finn McCool was a giant who roamed the land. Since the Giant's Causeway is only about 13 miles from Scotland, he could see another giant skulking around in Scotland. Being all height and no brains, he decides to go challenge the Scottish giant. So Finn constructs this bridge made up of rocks (the causeway) and he crosses over to Scotland. Once there, he finds out that the giant (named Bennadonna) is a wee bit bigger than expected and turns right around and runs home to Ireland. Finn goes to his wife and tells her his predicament, ie. that a huge ass giant is coming over to Ireland to give him a beat down. Finn's wife quickly constructs a crib and tells Finn to lay in it. When Bennadonna arrives at the McCool family residence, he says (and this is a direct quote from the bus driver), "Woman, where is your husband?" Mrs. McCool just says, "I don't know. It's just me and the child at home." Bennadonna takes one look at the "sleeping" Finn and thinks that if this the baby, he really didn't want to meet the father so he leaves to go back to Scotland. In the process, he purposely destroys the bridge that Finn built.

Anyway day two of Belfast consisted of the Black Cab Tour. One of the most interesting and thought provoking rides I have ever taken. We started in the Protestant section of town to see the murals. We learned about the history of the "Troubles" and how the two major para-military groups still retain a lot of influence in the area, the Ulster Freedom Fighters for the Protestants and the Irish Republican Army for the Catholics. Belfast is kinda crazy because it is only 20% integrated and most areas still remain 100% Protestant or Catholic. From what I can understand from our cab driver the "troubles" started in the 60's with the Catholics taking cue from the protests going on in the United States and started demanding equal rights even though they were the minority. Anyway Protestants weren't a huge fan of this and riots started and then escalated into an over 30 year conflict. The cab driver emphasized that it has never been about religion, but politics. About 3600 people have died in the "troubles." I think the ceasefire was signed in the mid-90's but it seems like an uneasy peace.

If you go to the Protestant side, you have murals commemorating leaders of the Ulster Freedom Fighters and one particularly creepy one called the "Belfast Mona Lisa" because no matter how you look at it, it appears that there is a gun pointed at you. They also have ones advocating for more community involvement in the government and ones celebrating heroes to their faith, like Oliver Cromwell. We then crossed the "Peace Wall." This was not a "oh lets celebrate peace in our communities" wall, the bridge is 42 feet high and is only open certain times of the day to let people cross. If you are anywhere in the city, you are also videotaped. We got to the Catholic side and saw more murals with IRA heroes like Bobby Sands and the other ten people who died as part of the hunger strike in the attempt to get political prisoner status in prison (which they had until Margaret Thatcher took it away.) There was also a mural commemorating the women and children who, when there was a sweep of the community by the police for weapons and the place was put on lock down so no one in or out, smuggled weapons out by saying they needed to feed people and then hiding weapons under children and bread. It was an interesting tour. Nothing like I had ever experienced before.

We also got to go to the Belfast Christmas market where I had the traditional Irish food of kangaroo. I figured, why not? Bit gamey. Anyway back in Cork but really interesting weekend.

Update on the Smurf Hand Situation

I went back to the office to turn in another paper today and I cracked some line about "alright so far, so good, no exploding pens." The woman laughed and asked if I had seen the outside of the door.

I opened the door and looked on the other side. Yeahhh there is definitely blue ink on the other side of the door. I hadn't realized that my pen had exploded yet and had put my full hand on the door (not the door handle, but door) to open it yesterday. They have to repaint the door now. They had just had it repainted last week.

Hodgepodge

Random Things I Learned:

1. People don't clean their sidewalks after snow for fear of getting sued. This is what an Irish person told me today. They worry more about cleaning it and then someone falling on ice that forms when the freezing rain comes down. This is why the sidewalks and street are covered in a sheet of ice at 8:30 this and every other morning this week.

2. While I was at a bar last night, some guy called another girl, "a real scuttlewoman," - apparently this means that the person is up to no good.

3. There is apparently an Irish way of doing things. For instance, a politician got called out for building a fence on his property using public money. Instead of being turned over to the Garda, he had to donate $10,000 to a Lourdes Invalid Fund.

4. There is some debate being the Catholic Church only has to contribute 300 million for clerical abuse victims and then anything above and beyond that is covered by the state.

5. They talk about "freezing fog" coming in. I don't know what that entails but it sounds somewhat like death as an atmospheric condition.

6. When I went to turn in my paper today, as I was filling out the receipt to prove that I turned in the paper, my pen exploded. My hand looked like I put it a stamp pad of blue ink. It was a bit of a mess but I had someone help me get the papers out of my folder. However I really didn't care that much and was joking around with the woman in the office that I had to go de-Smurfify my hands. She said I could have some fun with it and pretend I have frostbite to people on the street. I enjoyed the suggestion.

7. If you have any kind of a warm sandwich here, they call it toastie. I enjoy it.

8. They wish people a "happy Christmas"

It's Rugby Time of Year

Quick post:

There are a lot of big rugby games going on right now. I can't actually name any but the commercials are great. There is the national pride Guinness one and then the scrappy bar one from Heineken.

Sinterklaas

Last night I got to celebrate Sinterklaas for the first time in my life. Sinterklaas is how the Dutch people celebrate the arrival of good ole Saint Nick. Dutch children receive their presents every December 5th instead of on the 25th.

However there is such a huge backstory so I will try to capture it properly. Sinterklaas lives in Spain. He comes to Holland every year around November 20th. On a boat. It is a HUGE deal. He comes to a new town each year and crowds line the waterways to greet him on his boat. Not only that but there is a newcast that goes on. The anchor broadcasts the arrival of Sinterklaas and the town goes nuts. They sing songs. The mayor comes out. This year the anchor and the mayor were shocked because Sinterklaas came in a different direction than was expected. And Sinterklaas is a tricky fellow. Sometimes he leaves little gingerbread snap things called peppernoten on the ground to make the crowd THINK that he has been there.

So Sinterklaas comes in on his boat. With his black posse. They are called Black Petes, as in short for Peter. And they are basically Santa's little helpers. Dressed up like minstrels that belong in Henry XVIII court. Supposedly they are black due to going down the chimney.

Anyway Sinterklaas comes in and stays in his palace and his job is basically done. However over the next fifteen days or so, his representatives travel to every town in Holland. In addition, there are segments on the news like "oh no, someone stole Sinterklaas' book (ya know the naughty or nice one)" and then they follow it up on the next day with "found the book, all is well." Or there is some debate that Sinterklaas may get stuck and not get under a bridge. In addition, there are little stories that are told each year about Sinterklaas and his black helpers. On the night of December 5th, generally people are eating dinner and they hear a knock on the window (Black Pete) and they rush in and all the presents are there. They exchange gifts then and read poems to each other.

Another tradition of this holiday is to eat chocolate and candy until you feel nauseous. (No problem with this part.) So after a Dutch meal of kale and potatoes and meatballs, we ate lots of chocolate. Like Sinterklaas and Black Petes made up of chocolate. Giant chocolate letters, like a giant M made out of chocolate, and a box of peppernoten (gingerbread snaps kinda shaped like corn pops) with other fun candy interspersed.

All in all a really interesting holiday. I've included a video of the Black Petes. They are singing in Dutch but if you see a fat woman running, she is one of the naughty people. I'm not sure if the video is available in the United States, but hopefully you can watch it.

Black Petes 

Traditional Irish Songs

Before I came over to Ireland, I knew some Irish songs. I have heard some quality songs over the past few months.



The Boys From County Cork



Come out Ye Black and Tans - I am in rebel country



Galway Girl



Seven Drunken Nights

Marks And Sparks

So to get in the Christmas spirit, I found my second favorite Christmas commercial shown over here. The first one involves people singing while they go through a McDonald's drive thru to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas.

My second favorite though is the Marks and Spencer singalong. Because really any commercial involving Twiggy, the Bee Gees and overt movie references to classic song and dance movies I am bound to enjoy it.



In other noteworthy news (to a very small population ie. me), I was asked for the second time since I have been here if I'm Polish. Despite my actual Irish heritage, apparently I look Polish. Go figure.

Ice Ice Baby

Nobody does black ice like the Irish. Ireland and the United Kingdom have received a massive amount of snow in the past week and it looks like the Arctic Spell is not going to let up for another week. Edinburgh airport has essentially been shut down for a week. 5000 tonnes of salt have been used on Irish roads. Passengers were stranded on an abandoned train yesterday in West Sussex. Basically, it's a mess.

And one that is not likely to get better anytime soon. Ireland has pre-ordered salt coming in from Turkey and Egypt....but it isn't getting here for another two weeks. As someone big and important said but I can't remember the name "we are not going to salt every road in the country, only those to keep the national network."

I happen to live on one of the so-called unsalted roads. It's as if the Irish motto is "just say no" to walking anywhere safely. So this morning I thought I had class (turns out I didn't but I didn't check my email early enough to find this out). I leave my apartment. Issue 1: I can't get out of the complex. I essentially slide on my sneakers out of the complex and manage to turn before going into the road. Now I know how to walk on ice. I grew up in an area where winter involves ice. I learned though that a sheet of ice on a hill is a whole different ballgame.

I manage to make it down to class by essentially waddling down a hill. It was a good look, I can assure you. I had on sneakers but really when the the ground is a sheet of ice it really doesn't matter what shoes you have on. Although the two Irish girls who had stiletto boots on seemed to be having more trouble than others. They literally were tottering down the hill and grabbing onto windowsills. They were laughing, I was laughing. It was ridiculous but funny. So I make it down to my now-canceled class. Once I realize that class was not going to happen, I decided to get myself a coffee and trek back to the apartment. Coffee+ice+hill = not a good idea.

The walk back to my apartment was treacherous. Absolutely treacherous. Coffee was flying everywhere as I would slip and catch myself. I essentially had to side step up a hill. I was the one now grabbing onto windowsills, bushes, poles, anything I could grab. And then I would fall again as the windowsills would be covered in ice.  But I gotta say I had an absolute blast because really where is the fun in being able to just walk to class and not feel like you are participating in an obstacle course?

In other big news, as I'm sure everyone knows, Russia and Qatar are the two next World Cup hosts. We got to see it from the primarily English perspective as that is where our news comes from. As can be imagined, the Brits were not too thrilled about being voted out in the first round. Particularly after they sent Beckham, Cameron and Prince William to speak. Personally I don't see why Russia should get an Olympics and a World Cup within the same decade but that's me.

Anyway while reading my free Irish Times this morning (which had lovely coffee stains on the front page due to the walk back home) there was an article that was funnier that I will ever be at describing the World Cup decision so I decided to enclose it.

Three lions but just two votes as Sepp and the boys play it, um, safe

MARY HANNIGAN

WORLD CUP 2018/ 2022 BIDDING: ON THE COUCH: Pity the Fifa committee members who had to choose between the highest bidders. Highest in merit, of course
SO THEN, D-Day,
Russia v England v Netherlands/Belgium v Spain/Portugal. A decent line-up, it has to be said, pity the poor old Fifa executive committee members who had to choose between the highest bidders. Highest in terms of merit, of course.
It must have been tougher still after they’d witnessed such emotional presentations in the morning. Andrey Arshavin and David Beckham, in particular, yanked Fifa’s heartstrings for all they were worth. The cynics say these presentations count for nowt, but surely they underestimate the Fifa lads’ sensibility?
“I could never ’ave managed what I’ve achieved froo football – I owe my life, everyfing I ’ave to football,” said Beckham, while Arshavin tearfully begged Fifa to believe in Russia, as his coach, when he was a wayward young fella, had believed in him.
“I was not the easiest kid to manage when I was little,” he conceded. (“WAS??” hollered Arsene Wenger in front of his north London telly).
It was Nethergium, though, who kick-started the proceedings, with Johan Cruyff, Ruud Gullit, Guus Hiddink and a blast from the goalkeeping past, Jean-Marie Pfaff (still permed after all these years), as their star line-up. Ruud promised us a green World Cup and two million bikes for fans, enough to earn a standing ovation from Fifa.
Kidding.
Eurosport dragged a Dutch journalist, Edwin Struis, out in to the cold to ask for his verdict on the Nethergium presentation: a chirpy thumbs up. He was particularly impressed by Hiddink’s contribution – which, curiously enough, was accompanied by the Monkees’ I’m a Believer .
“He’s a global trotter,” said Edwin of Guus, “they know him all the world, he’s a famous guy.”
Alas, Edwin was less kind about Spatugal’s effort, reckoning it was “like a tourism advertorial” – “It’s the World Championship of football, not the World Championship of tourism.”
Spanish journalist Francesc Aguilar begged not to differ. “I think it was a disaster,” he sighed, although, in fairness, Spanish executive committee member Angel Maria Villar Llona had, at least, tried to introduce some levity to the proceedings by declaring: “Fifa is a clean institution! Fifa works honestly!”
Hats off to the fella, he had them rolling in the aisles.
Alas, injury prevented Cristiano Ronaldo from travelling to Zurich, but he was good enough to send a message, in which he insisted that “Portugal and Spain are like brothers”. And with that the Iberian peninsula was united in mirth.
Next up, England – William and the two Daves their three lions.
Manchester City community worker Eddie Afekafe did his bit too, but all eyes were on Becks, as they had been at that press conference the day before. One of the more searching questions put to him was: “How do you manage to stay so beautiful?”
It was a fair question, one for which Becks had no answer, but he was far from tongue-tied when putting England’s case.
Russia, too, put up a good show, not least Olympic pole vault champion Yelena Isinbayeva, who credited Sepp Blatter and the boys with boosting the women’s game.
“My message to you, dear gentlemens, is a simple one: thank you,” she purred.
Then Russia’s bid chief had a bit of a go at Sir Winston Churchill, and we were done.
Decision time. “Over to you, Matthew Amroliwala,” said Gabby Logan, presenter of the BBC’s coverage of the shindig.
“Prince William has just arrived and he said ‘fingers crossed’,” Matthew told Gabby.
“Thanks Matthew,” she said.
Finally, out came Sepp.
“This game has a value,” he told the audience, which nodded knowingly. “Football is not only about winning, it is also a school of life where you learn to lose,” he said, his stare drifting a little towards William and the two Daves.
Out with the envelope. Well, that’s a stunner: Russia!
Mind you, if star power did the trick in this type of carry-on, Chicago would be hosting the 2016 Olympic Games.
Just the two votes, then, and one of them from former English FA chairman Geoff Thompson.
The consensus? Panorama should live out its days in the Tower of London.
Oh, not to forget the 2022 bidding contest. Well, it’d hardly be Qatar, deemed “high risk” by the Fifa inspection team.
Over to you Sepp.
“The winner is . . . Qatar!”
Russia and Qatar it is, then. Lovely. Almost 50,000,000 Google hits combined when you tap in “human rights abuses”.
Crikey, what you wouldn’t give for Fifa to be WikiLeaked.

Not a "Stairway" to Heaven

Every once in a while I have these grand plans to learn one new thing every day. Usually these grand plans fail relatively quickly but every once in a while I go in learning spurts. Like since I've been in Ireland, I've learned how to make a turkey, how to pack for a weekend in just a backpack, how to pronounce Irish names and the rules of Gaelic Football to name just a few.

But part of learning new things is trial by error. Sometimes in order to learn, you may fail in the process.

And today failure happened....

with the StairMaster.

Yes, that same StairMaster that is ubiquitous in gyms around the world. 

During one of my rare bouts of exercise enthusiasm, I went to the gym today.   Now as previously discussed I'm not a huge fan of gyms and so I'm a bit behind the curve when it comes to gym equipment. For example, the treadmill. Seemingly simple, right? Not when you are an outside runner by experience and so when you turn to talk to your friend, you forget that the machine is still running beneath you and you may or may not have flown off several times.

But finally I felt comfortable enough with the treadmill, I was a pro at the bikes and I could mostly figure out the weight situation. It was time to master the Stair Master. First problem, the machine asked for my weight...in kilograms. I've been writing papers for days and my fried brain could not compute conversions. I did a random guess. No idea if it was correct or not.

So I got on the machine and I tried walking up and down. It's a machine that is supposed to mimic stairs, how hard could this be? And then that moment that I fear in the gyms happens. When you are trying to look confident on this contraption, some person who works at the gym kindly walks up to you and gently asks "has anyone showed you how to to work this machine?" So she attempted to show me, and said a bunch of stuff about compression and to take baby steps and don't lift my feet off the pedals (which is incredibly difficult for runners). I was told to loosen my hips and knees and then she stood there watching. While it was a necessary intervention, I still felt awkward. I tried my best and finally she was satisfied enough that she left. So okay, I think I have the hang of this. I supposedly have walked up 7 floors and am averaging a floor a minute. Sweet. Yay, gym success! .... Then the machine kept thinking that I wasn't on it anymore and kept asking me to resume the routine while I'm attempting to walk. Finally the beeping noise every 30 seconds was making me feel self-conscious and declared defeat.  On the plus side, I was a bike fiend today. Not enough that the Tour De France will happen but maybe I can find a niche at gyms.

So in conclusion, I may or may not go back to the Stairmaster. I'm sure there is some other contraption in the gym I could try...