I'm alive

I know I had promised to try to update this reguarly but its been a constant barrage of classes, orientations, and meetings that have left me exhausted by the time I get to a computer. I'm paying the price now for waiting so long because I don't even know where to begin. Here goes... Prepare to get your money's worth on this post!

I didn't quite know what to expect upon arriving here, but I think the first thing I noticed was the weather. We were told that the spring semester is the lucky group because the weather will get progressively better as it goes along, but for now it's still an Irish winter that more than makes up for its lack of snow with its abundance of wind and rain. I thought back to all the times you would see urgent looking messages roll across the bottom of the tv saying THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A WIND ADVISORY AND A FLASH FLOOD WARNING FOR THE FOLLOWING COUNTIES... I've only been here a week and I already can see how ridiculous those warnings are because if Ireland ran that way then the entire country would be perpetually under such grim warnings. Some of the Irish students who saw me leaving my apartment for class one day when what seemed to be the bi-daily hurricane was causing rousing bouts of mayhem outside even told me that if I had class to just skip it because it wasn't worth it. BUT HEAR THIS CONCERNED PARENTS AND GRANDPARENTS! I was not about to let my education be spoiled by mere 60mph winds, torrential downpours, or sub-freezing temperatures! No sir! I arrived looking like I had swam to class rather than walked but it turned out to be quite worth it. This particular class is titled The Politics of Ethnic Conflict in Europe and the Wider World. The professor is a sarcastically bitter, yet delightful man who made some comment about how he hates it here in the winter time because he can't go anywhere without drowning. (All I could think of was at least its not snowing and making a mess of the roads.) Anyways, I've already determined that he will be my favorite. He told us how he will be bringing in many different professors and speakers from areas that we study to have forums with our class so we can ask people who experience these conflicts first hand any questions we may have. He also is the first professor I've had in years to really command a classroom and engage me with what he had to say. Ironically my favorite class will also provide me with the most work as I'll have a 3000 word paper, an essay of tbd length, a term paper, and a final exam. Many of my other classes either have a final or a paper but rarely both so that scared a lot of people off. It had only seemed like I was there for 5 mins when class was over and I was chucked back out into the once hurricane that had downgraded itself to a mere tropical storm.

Our first place we went outside of Maynooth was Glendalough Monestary. St. Kevin founded the place way back when the vikings were out pillaging and the Romans were out persecuting. Ireland was left alone by the Romans for the most part but was also very isolated. This caused a very unique Irish architecture to be born with these nearly foundationless bell towers.

 The foundations were actually above ground so the door was about 15 feet above the base. I guess there used to be stairs to get up and around or some scaffolding but they probably took them down so I couldn't climb up there and ruin it. The Glendalough also featured the ruins of a cathedral that had a very interesting way of disposing of the precious blood. Pictured below and underneath all the branches is a hole that ran directly into the ground. Sometimes when people would be hiding chapels in their homes, these holes would be located on the 4th story of a building. Still they would run all the way down to the ground so the blood would go straight to the earth and never have to be "thrown out."

I thought that this part of the tour was all well and good, but then we had ourselves a little nature hike. This might have been fine if it had happened when it was warm or before noon and not at 10am. They said that St. Kevin lived on the top of a mountain in a hole that overlooked the freezing cold lake he would stand in with arms out stretched so the birds could nest in his hands. Nobody seemed to understand the message this bloke was trying to send. All he wanted was to be left alone. Why else would you put yourself on the top of a mountain people would have to walk up and stand out in a freezing lake like a crazy person? Clearly he just wanted people to think he was a weirdo so they wouldn't bother him and it would be a disgrace to his memory for us to climb up to his little hide out. All I want to do is respect the wishes of a saint and people are all like "Stop moaning, we could get such great pictures climbing this water fall!" Yes that was actually a sentence. Climbing a waterfall. Waterfall. Fall. Its not waterclimb, or waterup, its waterfall! I decided I was already climbing a mountain but I got a nice picture of other people trying to do the gramatically impossible.

Eventually we made it back down and returned to our bus to go see the gardens at Powers Court where we would get lunch. I was expecting a mass order of subway since it'd be free but I stood corrected. I was unaware of the fact that Powers Court was part of the grounds owned by the area Ritz Carlton Hotel. I was unaware that our meal included not 1, not 2, but 3 salads, an entree, and a dessert. I was unaware that my meal that cost me the least would be the one that filled me the most. I honestly would have been perfectly content just coming here to spend the day. I'll share with you the decent view we had as we dined in style.

The gardens were absolutely spectacular and sprawled as far as 5 miles from the main building we started at. However as our group was wandering I thought the beauty of the place would be far too easy to comment on, so of course my conversations were more like this...

Me: What's really the purpose of creating art?
Group: To display beauty and strive to illustrate perfection. (i'm paraphrasing but that's essentially what they meant.)
Me: So that statue over there, would you say that its beautiful and closely illustrates perfection?
Group: Oh my God yes! (It was a statue of some ripped guy looking aloof as he pondered life. The smickies were loving it.)
Me: So why is it that when I try to bring that statue to life by imitating it and running around places with my pants off its a crime but when he does it its art?!

Maturity at its fineist. But I fail to see how my body doesn't compare to stone-abs over there. After our day at the gardens was over we came back to campus exhausted and most of us slept until we were due to go into Dublin for the first time on Sunday. We had each been assigned a museum. Naturally I thought it'd be a good idea to map out how to get to my specific museum since they're all in different locations (as different buildings tend to do). I seemed to be the only one to understand that logic in my group because I was the only one who actually made it to our site. I jumped on a train from maynooth and then transferred to the inner-city tram that took me directly to the site. Easy-peasy right? Apparently not. Let's have a look at the conversation that ensued.

*RING RING*
Me: Hey I'm at the site where are you guys?
Them: We're at the other one.
Me: Which one?
Them: (no response)
 Me: The jail?
Them: Oh yeah, I think so. Want to just meet us here?
Me: Sure, I don't think that's too far from here.
*Hang up and walk to jail. 10 Mins later*
*RING RING*
Me: Ok I'm at the jail. Where are you?
Them: Uhh we got all turned around and ended up at St. Stephen's Green...
Me: ok? Should I meet you there?
Them: Yeah that'd be great.
*hang up*

Now I had assumed some basic form of underlying intelligence was present and that they were at least close to our site when they got dropped off and couldn't have gone far. WRONG. St. Stephen's Green may possibly have been the furthest location away from our museum they could have gone to. Being unfamiliar with the area I asked for directions until I finally found the place after an hour or so of walking through what went from sun and warmth to wind, monsoon, and bologna in about .3 seconds. To top it off they didn't even want to go to the site when I got there because it would be "too far and too cold to walk all they way there" and they were "tired." Now we have to find another time to spend money on going into Dublin to see this museum because despite me making it there, we have to get a group shot to prove that we actually visited. Maybe I could have Te'o'd a group shot and they would've bought it but I guess I was just not thinking that day.

Dublin on the other hand was very cool. The Guinness distillery was right on the river and I couldn't believe how big the grounds were. I kinda want to take the tour just to see what they use all that space for more than I do the beer! When I finally made it up to the Merrion Square area I was delighted with what I saw. They had whole sections where the road was generally advised to be for pedestrians only and it reminded me a bit of Diagon Alley. And there were pubs. Pubs as far as the eye could see. My favorite one ended up being one that only had about 10 people in it. They were these old Irishmen who's favorite sense of humor was bitter sarcasm. I had a lovely chat with a man about how the Irish national team was "a bunch of knobs runnin around with their heads firmly lodged in their arse." He seemed to be pretty knowledgable on European hockey as well. It was nice to finally be able to relax and have a beer with men who are as bitter and old as I act!

I think we have another trip this weekend so I'll try to hop back on the blogger machine soon after that happens so it won't be quite as long and rambly. Stay tuned!