Goodbye

It's 5 a.m. Monday morning, and it's dawn in Belfast. The window panes across the street at Methody are all pale gold, and birds are singing. I leave in an hour and a half for the city airport, to start the long flight home.

I don’t want to write this. I don’t want to leave: I’m eager to be home, but all that means is that someday I’ll have to come back and live here.

I love Northern Ireland, even more so than I thought I would... and the people here have been kind beyond all my expectations. Especially the other College Gardens students, the wonderful people at both St. Bart’s and Fisherwick, and all the others I’ve met along the way.

Here are a couple pictures of St. Bart’s folks:

This is Jenny Forbes, her mother (whose name I can't remember off the top of my head), and a lady named Pauline, at Jenny's house, with the dessert we had after a light dinner to follow up the C.S. Lewis tour. Here is her brother, Robert, with Lola, the neighbour’s cat:

At St. Bart’s on Saturday I helped out at the summer fair, setting up and clearing tables. I also ate my own weight in cakes. On Sunday, during the service, I was called up and presented with a matted photograph of the church, which I hope to frame and hang up at home.

I’ll keep posting after I come home – you’ll all see pictures from the fair, and more...!

Here are Janice, Ron, and Herbie:

I know Janice has said she’s been disappointed by student interest in the past, because they – being in such a busy area, with so many students and others coming and going – are really seeking to be welcoming to the outside community. I’d say that yes, maybe hundreds of students might pass by, but in at least one case the church welcomed in one - one shy kid who's been going through a lot of difficulties. And that made all the difference to that one kid... I mean it.

That goes for the lovely people at Fisherwick as well. Going to church – and to the few CU activities I managed to get to, and to the free lectures waaay back when at the beginning of the year – might be my clearest and best memories from the past six months. Thank you.

I will continue this blog once I get home, with more pictures, updating entries which my computer wouldn't let me edit, and more. Maybe even putting up some pictures from home - of MY cats, for instance, or of some of the odd things in Virginia that I've been talking about all this time.  

Till then... goodbye. Goodbye, NI - somehow, I'm coming back. Someday.

Saint Patrick's Day

Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona duit!*

Saint Patrick’s Day started Wednesday night. I went to the Inter-Chaplaincy Saint Patrick’s Day event at the Student Union. This was advertised as a ceilidh beag** so I thought it wouldn’t be too scary. It was fun. There was a ceilidh band, so, acoustic guitars, a harp, fiddle and whistle. There were a few worship songs and jigs, and then the chaplains paraded in bearing huge quantities of pizza. There were a lot of people there (I can’t guess the number of a crowd if it’s above fifty or so) so they had a speed-meeting getting-to-know-you game, which I can’t remember a single name from. But it was still fun – it’s good to remind people, I think, that the holiday is in fact a saint’s*** day, however many people use it as an excuse to get drunk and wear stupid hats.

The only bad thing about study abroad in a city is having no friends. Every activity that you have the opportunity to participate in is with other exchange students, and you have nothing in common with students from Europe or Asia, and really want to get to know Irish students, but every event that goes on has hundreds of people at it, so it’s near impossible to get to know anybody. I mean, you can’t even hear people talk. I desperately wish there was some kind of small-group activity going on, but I haven’t found it. At least, it doesn’t seem to exist independent of clubs (by which I mean nightclubs). I am an antisocial drinker – I like drinking, sometimes, but I hate loud noise and drunk people, which is a problem when it comes to socialization in a big city.

End rant. *sigh* Anyway....

Did I go to the parade? Yes. I went to the parade. Did I actually see any of it? Surprisingly, yes. While one of the downsides to being small is the inability to see over anybody else, one of the perks is being able to worm one’s way into just about anywhere. Thus, after a few minutes of patient worming across the City Centre street, I made it close enough to see the parade. I’d never been to a Saint Patrick’s Day parade before, so it was exciting - and this one has a colourful, home-made look to it, not like the big parades in the States. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

There was a H & W float, and a lot of people in bright costumes waving streamers, a Chinese dragon on poles that danced in a circle, a school marching band, and more – scroll down for pictures. The crowd was just as entertaining. From the languages and accents heard in the thick of it, at least half the people there weren’t native Irish. But don’t get me wrong – there were plenty of those there, too. The street was a huge, chattering sea of green, lots of children on shoulders waving paper shamrock flags, and there were also plenty of sequined bowler hats and other such tasteless accessories. A few people had even found tricolours and wrapped themselves in them like bath towels.

The crowd watching the parade - a lot of children on shoulders!



What is this? I don't know...



... but it was followed by a troupe of children on unicycles!

One of two artistic fish, carried by people in front of...

... the Harland & Wolf shipworks float.

And the Chinese dragon, obviously a time-honoured Saint Patrick's Day tradition!
Note: girl at the far left lives in 7 College Gardens as well!

The blue people were my favourite. I have no idea what they were supposed to represent (if anything) but they were pretty. They spun their bird streamers round and round, and it looked as though they were caught in the middle of a flock of big, bright birds, such a contrast to the dull colours of the city.

These came after the blue people - the yellow and green, and then the pink and purple!

Then - your friendly Monster Muppet Man!

Finally, a band of marching Scottish pipers.

As I said - exciting!

There were also police officers. Everywhere.

The College Gardens students meandered over more or less together. After the parade, the others disappeared to go off drinking. This was interesting, as I didn’t want to go off drinking, especially at noon, and didn’t know the way back to College Gardens. So I wandered around City Centre for a while, and then went shopping. I’d been wanting to find some tights or long stockings (there are only so many layers you can get a pair of jeans over). I went to a charity shop on the corner. I love charity shops – they’re the little British equivalent of thrift stores. Instead of the DAV or the CHKD, you get Oxfam and the Marie Curie Cancer Centre shops. You get the same shelves of suspicious paperbacks, disorganized clothing, and deranged-looking ceramic animals like pigs and geese and elephants that you wonder why anyone would buy in the first place. It’s fun.  

There was a French family there while I was there, so I got to listen to the parents wrangling their children in exasperated French. I asked the lady behind the desks where people here went to buy socks and tights and things. Almost everyone here wears them under everything, so far as I can tell, even shorts – because it’s cold and damp all the time, you do not want to go bare-legged or wear skirt without anything under them.

I was pointed towards Primark, across the street. Remember how I said there’s no Superstores of any kind? Well, the clothing department in a big store in the States – think Target or Wal-Mart – apparently exists independently, here, in the form of Primark. It’s the kind of place where there are lots of children yelling, lots of sale racks, disposable drinks cups perched on displays, and there are displays of huge heaps of shirts and skirts falling off hangers with signs saying “NOW 50% OFF” and "£1." It's my new favourite clothing store, I've decided, and when I wear holes in all my socks I'll head on back.

Afterwards, I went home. Things were pretty mellow for the moment.

However, I knew there'd soon be a big, noisy party. But luckily I had plans for the night – or, for the next couple hours:

The main table in front of the church. The lady in the blue coat is Janice, the curate.

 Every year on Saint Patrick’s Day, St. Bart’s sets up some tables with snacks, hot tea, and coffee, and gives it out for free to passersby. The theory is that the drunk students will be distracted and get some real food inside them to offset the alcohol, which, speaking as a college student myself, is an excellent idea. In this city things can get crazy bad the week of the 17th - there's posters up in the houses, and e-mails sent out, warning exchange students and pleading with the natives. People just start drinking, and don't stop.


Of course, in addition to this practical concern, it makes a lot of people very happy when someone comes down the sidewalk with a tray saying, “Free sandwiches! Free sweets! Biscuits! Rock Cakes! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”


Some people stayed at the tables, and some people went to houses where they knew there’d be parties, and some people went up and down the streets. The block over had crowds of students all up and down, and I emptied a whole tray of sandwiches and tiny sausages in minutes. Hopefully, it did some good.

These splendid people are Ross and Elizabeth, who are from different churches and came over to help out.

I signed up for 4-6, and had to leave by 6:30 because I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes, despite the paper cups of hot tea I kept drinking, more to hold than for any other reason.

I’m now very determined to finish knitting these woollen socks. Watch it get warm the moment I bind off. Just watch.

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

*I’m pretty sure this is how you say “Happy Saint Patrick’s Day.”

**“little party” (pronounced kay-lee beg)

***Saint Patrick – Patricius – was actually born in the place that’d later be Wales. He was taken to Ireland as a slave. Just saying.

No leprechauns were involved in the making of this holiday. Unless, of course, the fairies get drunk and go out dancing as well, and need new shoes.

Me, Tourist: The Giant's Causeway

The Giant's Causeway, on the north coast of Ulster, was formed about 60 million years ago by intense volcanic activity. The cooling stone fractured in a distinctive pattern of hexagonal columns. Today, this means massive piles of what look like paving stones stacked, piled, and leading out into the sea.

It's one of the weirdest geological things I've ever seen, and last week I was taking pictures of glowing rocks. It's also beautiful. If you're not the kind of person who would take being cold, tired, and wet in order to see beautiful rocks, don't go. But if you are, it's worth it. The basalt in the water is so black, and the water is this translucent pale green, and the foam gets caught in big fluffy piles in between the columns. And it's all so... big. The stones themselves aren't; they're like what you'd make a walkway through your garden with. But there are so many of them, and so much water... and you can really feel the weight of the water when you watch it crash and drag on the columns like it does...

This is one of those times when I can't understand how, with things like this around us, we, people, can think the world is boring. I took about sixty million pictures...

And because you're probably all in shock right now from the excess of glorious natural beauty (and if you're not, you should be, shame on you):

Red phone box!!!

Me, Tourist: The Ulster Museum

Wonderful, eclectic, and free (donations welcome, however). Maureen and I spent several hours there, saw the whole museum, and bought postcards in the gift shop like good little tourists. I didn't write down everything about every exhibit, so there's no dates for anything, but bear with me. I'll probably go again, and I can give you excruciatingly detailed answers to any questions you may have then.

Morpho butterflies, in a case of insects

Neolithic pottery, made in the classic stick-coils-to-a-pinch-pot-and-decorate-with-cordage method...

Or you could get really fancy and go for incised lines. I love these.

And some more...

Bronze Age shield

Swords

An often-mended cauldron, found in a bog

Amber beads

The Downpatrick Hoard

The Ulster museum's exhibits are mainly concerned with, well, Ulster. But they do have some others, for instance, a token Ancient Egyptain mummy. This is the beaded netting around her wrappings. They did a facial reconstruction project on her, and her model head is sitting in a case across the room.

Who can tell me her name?

A stone quern

Late Iron Age artefacts...

... including the Bann Disc

A stone that covered a grave.

Pins from the 6th (?) through to the 11th centuries

A cross

Shrine of St. Patrick's Hand

A medieval reliquary "made to house a human forearm believed to be that of St Patrick" (museum description)

Add caption

Another gravestone... they can tell it belonged to a woman, because of the shears depicted in the lower left.

In an exhibit on endangered species, and wild animals, and on how many items incorporate bits of endangered animal (or are endangered animals) and are available for people - that is, unintelligent tourists - to buy that they really shouldn't.

Don't you feel happier now?

Hippopotamous jaw. This is how they bite crocodiles and things in half.

The skull of a two-headed calf, because they obviously felt entitled to display it SOMEwhere.

This is why I love museums.

Fluorescent minerals glow under black light!

Giant Clam is giant.

A preserved coelacanth

And to return to human history, this is the Malone Hoard: a pile of new porcellanite axe heads, from the Neolithic... found down Malone Road, that is, the road College Gardens (where I live) turns off onto. Very cool.

And bog oak! Bog oak is oak wood preserved in peat bogs (you never would've guessed that, I'm sure). Here is a chair made from it, and below is an actual piece of it.

That's it for the Ulster Museum... until next time!