LESSONS LEARNED Part 2: Use Your Brain

It's been a few weeks since my first "Lessons Learned" installment, and it's about time I share with you the new knowledge I've gained since then. I'm gettin' wicked smaht ova hea. So here we go:

Lesson 1: Bring your rainboots. Come on, this is Ireland. I touched on this in my post about Cork when I got caught without them on a cold rainy day. Freezing my toes off and getting my real boots wet and muddy was enough to make me want to wear rain boots every single day, regardless of the weather. Now, I bring them along with me if I know I’ll be walking around or hiking outside. This all plays into a much larger lesson that’s been emerging: Think ahead. Be prepared. Other experiences that have fallen under this category include finding out I booked a flight home from Amsterdam the day I have an un-reschedulable (yes, I made that word up) Irish art test. I had to change my flight home for a day earlier. Another applicable lesson, one I’ve already talked about in a previous post, I didn’t actually have to learn the hard way: always bring a back pack. You just never know what you’ll find to bring home.

Lesson 2: Make it stretch, girl. If there’s one thing that buying groceries and cooking for myself has taught me, it’s that you can make things last way longer than you thought (maybe even longer than they’re supposed to). You’d be surprised how long a girl can make cereal, eggs, and pasta last. That being said, I do cook some pretty shmancy meals for myself (I’ll credit you with that one, Dad). But when you’re trying to make €25 worth of groceries last two weeks, food starts getting a little scarce. Lesson 2-2: Milk is precious. Don’t abuse it. As we speak I’m preparing to jet off to Barcelona later today, and have been running on a steady diet of pasta and cereal for the past 2 days. Woo carbs! But the little money I saved I can spend on some delicious Spanish cuisine. Viva Espana!!

Lesson 3: Try new things every chance you get. Here’s another lesson that thankfully, has not been learned the hard way. I’m trying to pack in as many new and unforgettable experiences as I can while I’m here. That’s the point of this whole thing right? I’ve tried some cool new foods like blood sausage and oyster beer (both of which were better than they sound). I also unknowingly tried what I discovered to be pure duck fat. I’m still trying to live that one down. I’ve taken small adventures around Dublin and bigger excursions around Ireland. I’ve booked trips to places I never dreamed I’d get to see, and may never be able to see again. I’m looking forward to all the new lessons I’ll be learning about traveling in Europe – hopefully they won’t all be the hard way!

I’ll be back from Spain on Tuesday afternoon, hopefully with many new experiences to blog about and pictures to show off!

Until then, adios amigos!

My Backpack is My Bestfriend

I told you I was going to do it. You thought I was kidding. I’m dedicating this blog post to one of my most faithful and loyal companions: my backpack. That’s right. My good ol’ L.L. Bean backpack has had my back (ha!) since I was just a wee lass. I don’t think I have one other singular item in my life that has taken so much abuse and still spent so much time with me. Since middle school it has seen the cold dark insides of numerous lockers; been stuffed to breaking point with more weight than a small child; weathered the cold, the rain, and the blazing heat; been stepped on, thrown around, and cast aside; had a multitude of liquids and foods spilled in it, on it, and near it; and after all that, has sat idly and forgotten when it hasn’t been needed. It has carried everything from books, clothes, and food, to giant posters, hundreds of tongue depressors, and loads of other things I probably shouldn’t broadcast on the internet. Looks like the Kat’s out of the bookbag! Yes, I was dying to use that pun. It’s been to middle school, high school, and college. It’s been to sleepovers, day trips, and vacations. And now, it’s here with me in Ireland, serving me loyally, and enjoying all of the sights. I think it deserves it. I bring it on all my trips even when I don’t think I need it. I’ve found that often times I’ll leave the house with it empty and come back with it filled to the brim. You never know when you’re going to need a place to hold your delicious sun-dried tomato and cheese bread, or your huge handmade tapestry, or all your friends’ lunches. Quite simply, my backpack is the best. I love it. And I’m pretty darn sure it loves me too. 

Since I’ve decided to air that train of thought to the world wide web, I’ve decided I’ll vent a few others as well. If you have any respect for me that you might want to hold on to, I might stop reading now. Nah, just kidding, it won’t be that bad. Ready?

         So the other day I was on the treadmill which faces a big window that overlooks the pool. I could see a kind of partial, ghost-like, headless, reflection of myself in the window, which provided me with an entire work out’s worth of imaginative entertainment. I thought about how, since I was an almost headless ghost, I could probably move into Hogwarts. I could be Kind-of-Headless Kat and get married to Nearly Headless Nick, and we could live in the most magical place on earth for all eternity. Nick and I could have our wedding “scarimony” on the front grounds and the reception in the Great Hall. It would be great!

Welcome to my brain, everyone!

        Here’s another train of thought: Time, and the way we think about it, is completely bizarre. I realized this the other day when I had “time to kill” on my walk class (I usually get a of of great thinking done on this walk). Why do we “kill” time? If we’re killing it, does that mean it’s alive? If it’s alive, then killing it is criminal. Obviously, we can’t actually kill time, because it’s infinite and never ending. But isn’t it funny how there’s infinite time in the world and yet we all complain how there’s not enough time for anything? We’re too busy killing time to have time to do anything else! So where has this left us? Well I, for one, will never again kill time. I will live time. I’ve got time to live.

Ready for one more?

I, as some of you may or may not know, am involved. I’m involved in the advocacy and awareness of Women’s and LGBT issues. I LOVE being involved with these causes (shout out to my Women Willers and SHEPARDians)! They get me going in the morning and keep me going until the wee hours of the night. However, I’ve been struggling to find this kind of involvement here in Ireland. It’s not because I haven’t been looking! That’s one of the first things I did after stepping foot in the homeland. The way the clubs are run over here are very different from those at PC and I haven’t been able to find a place to play an active role yet. I’ve taken to reading Gloria Steinem’s essays at night as a way to curb my surging feminist activism.

          My roommate and I were chatting about her preparation for an upcoming marathon she might run in. She was reading about a strategy where you start out running, then force yourself to walk for a few miles, even if you want to run. The idea is that the walking will recharge you so that when you start running again you can finish strong. So, I am forcing myself to walk right now. I am walking, even though I don’t want too, so that when I get home I’ll be ready to hit the ground running in all my activities. Those women’s and LGBT issues better look out, because I’m going to be barreling towards them come next semester!

So there you have it. A look into my mind.  After reading this post, if you no longer want to read my blog or be my friend, it’s fine. I’ve got Nearly Headless Nick to keep me company for the rest of my time, which I will be living, not killing.

Cheers, friends!

The Calm Before the Storm

My spring break, which they call “study week ” here (who are the kidding?), starts the last week in February and that pretty much begins the craziness for the rest of my time spent here in Ireland. I leave for Barcelona on the 24^th to visit my good old PC friend Emily Cotter and I’ll be back on the 28^th. Then I’ve got a few days free before my Mom comes to visit for a week (shout out to Mom!) and we’ll be travelling hopefully to the West Coast and maybe even London! Then as soon as Mom leaves, my friends will start showing up for St. Patty’s Day celebrations (Katie and Courtney, prepare yourselves mentally, physically, and beeritually). We’ll be having at least one extra person staying in our apartment for the entire month of March. Par-tay! The weekend after Christmas… I mean, St. Patty’s … is adventure weekend with my IFSA Butler program where we’re essentially taking over an outdoor adventure facility in western Ireland. The weekend after that I’m headed to Brussels and Amsterdam where I’ll probably try some …. port wine (a JOKE, Mom and Dad!). Then my classes end April 6^th (wild right?) and soon after I’ll hopefully be Euro-tripping it for about two or so weeks before exams start in May. I’m a busy lass!

HOWEVER, before all this craziness starts, I’ve got the next few weeks to lay low, hang around Dublin, and try to get ahead on my work. That means I won’t have many trips and pictures to be blogging about, so I’ll probably be rambling on about the random thoughts floating around in my mind. I should probably apologize in anticipation for subjecting you to that. That being said, I’d like to extend you the invitation to share some suggestions. Is there anything you want to hear about in particular? Questions about trips, postings, anything? I figured I’d ask since otherwise I’ll just be venting the ideas floating around in my noggin which honestly, I’m not so sure is good for any of our well beings. I’m thinking about writing one about my back pack. That’s right, my back pack. It has become my favorite traveling buddy. I’m definitely feeling a second installment of “Lessons Learned” coming on, also. So if you don’t want to be subjected to these blathering blog posts about everything and nothing at all, send me some suggestions! You can FaceBook them to me, or email me at Kconard@friars.providence.edu.

Cheers, friends!

Northern Ireland

This weekend we ventured to Northern Ireland on a trip organized through IFSA-Butler (who, I must say, have done a fabulous job providing for us throughout this whole abroad experience). Unfortunately, the first day I was feeling a bit under the weather, recovering from an ugly stomach bug I had caught a day earlier. BUT, not to worry! I was a bit sluggish, but everything was so beautiful and enjoyable that I didn’t mind the cold, the rain, or the slug. We saw the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge which is this really cool rope bridge that connects two huge rock cliffs right on the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. The water there was amazingly blue. If you used your very best imagination skills to block out the cold, the rain, and the cloudiness, it could have been a tropical coast line. It was that pretty! Then we went to Dunluce Castle, which was very beautiful. If we’re being honest (which is my general policy) it was really windy there and I was just a bit too tired to actually learn anything about it, but I have pictures! It’s a castle, it’s old, it’s ruined, it’s on a cliff by the sea. That’s all you need to know. Then we went to Giant’s Causway, which is one of Ireland’s most popular and astonishingly beautiful sights. Giant’s Causway is a really cool rock formation right on the coast line that was formed by a volcanic eruption millions and billions of years ago. The rocks are all hexagonal columns that form perfect stepping stones that you can climb up and walk out on until they fall off into the ocean. The legend is a cool story, but instead of explaining it all in this post, here’s the Wikipedia link if you want to learn more: Edumacate yurself!

The next day I was feeling much better, and was happy to feel like a functioning human again! In the morning we went to a farmer’s market a few blocks from our hotel and it was great! Tons of cool crafts, foods, and live music! I ate so many delicious free samples that I didn’t even need lunch. I got lots of cool handmade stuff for bargain prices! But what absolutely made my entire trip to Belfast is the story I’m going to tell you now: I was looking at these gorgeous tapestries handmade in Nepal. I knew I had to get one because there were just so incredibly beautiful. Two women standing near me were contemplating buying one also, so obviously I felt the need to chime in with my 2 cents, or rather, 2 pence. The woman looking to buy one loved it but wasn’t sure if she’d have a place for it and I told her she should buy it, and that it was so beautiful she’d definitely find a place for it no matter what. I agreed with the other woman whom I had overheard saying that it’s a worth wile purchase just because it’ll make her happy to look at - a philosophy that I embrace wholeheartedly. We got to chatting a bit (Helen and Aileen from Canada, mother and daughter, Helen grew up in Belfast) and before I knew it we had both made pact to buy a tapestry: “If you’re doing it, I’m doing it!” She asked which one I was buying and I told her I was going for the smaller one because it was more fitting for my budget. She pointed to a big blue tapestry that was amazing an asked “What about this one?”.  So beautiful, but my wallet would disagree, sadly. She handed me £15 and said “Get the one you really want.” I told her I couldn’t accept such a gift but she insisted: “We’re Irish, we can’t help it”. So I walked away with a big, gorgeous, handmade tapestry for half of what it was worth thanks to the kindness of a perfect stranger. Remember how I said the people here are friendly? I did them an injustice. The people here treat you like they’ve known and loved you for years. 

Later that day we took a Black Taxi tour of Belfast. They took us around the outskirts of the city and explained to us all about the Protestant-Catholic split which is still very much present in Northern Ireland today. And what a vicious split it is. Apparently it’s much calmer now than it was years ago, but we saw huge walls and gated neighborhoods separating Catholic and Protestant sections, memorials for those who’ve been caught in very recent Protestant-Catholic violence, and the most disturbing: a mural proudly dedicated to a single Protestant soldier who gunned down 16 innocent Catholics in the 80’s. Horrifying. It’s mind blowing to see that such strong divisions still exist in this day and age. We were warned not to broadcast even the slightest bit of Catholicism in public because it would cause a stir. Even though things are calmer now,  our cab driver told us the scales could tip at any time and violence could break out. Is that not completely absurd? I got some really cool pictures of the graffiti painted on the wall that separates the Catholic from Protestant section of Belfast. People from all over the world have signed the wall and left notes of peace and love including Bill Clinton, The Dalai Lama, Rihanna, and Lady GaGa (AHHH!!) to name a few. Obviously, I scoured the wall for Lady GaGa’s message, but to no avail. I did get a picture of the “general vicinity” that she was seen signing so good enough, I guess. I did get a picture of where Rihanna signed which was really cool! The words are very faded but she wrote “We found love in a hopeless place”. Awesome right?! Apparently she filmed part of the video for that song in Belfast. 

The rest of the day we roamed around the shopping section and at night we hit up a nearby pub with live Irish music – my favorite kind! Then it was back on the bus Sunday morning and home to do all the mounds of reading I had managed to push out of my mind all weekend. Northern Ireland, despite its shocking religious prejudices, was beautiful, entertaining, and definitely thought provoking. Everything a good trip should be.

 Check out all the pictures here!

Bollocks!

There’s no real reason for the title of this blog post, other than that I heard someone bellow it on campus today and didn’t think I could use it in any form of normal conversation without it sounding more like “I’m REALLY American!” My blog is probably the only safe place to practice my European euphemisms. Oh, Bollocks.

ANYWAY.

This weekend we took a short day trip to Howth – a fisherman’s town just North of Dublin. It’s a very cute, picturesque town right on the coast that has cliff walks and cute little shops and restaurants. We weren’t able to do a full cliff walk because we had gotten there later in the afternoon and the short days means dark falls at about 4:30 (or “half four”, as they would say here). We were fortunate enough, however to catch the farmer’s market which had all sorts of fruits, veggies, breads, desserts, and international cuisines. I got a loaf of sundried tomato, cheese and pepper artisan bread that I could cry over and nearly devoured that same day.

Side note: I’m sure you’re familiar with the expression “You say tomAYto, I say tomAHto”. Well, I never thought anyone actually said tomAHto until I got here. It was a trip, hearing it for the first time. And every time after that, for that matter.

Howth, being a coastal town, was as cold as it was beautiful. Unfortunately, this means I don’t have quite as many pictures as I would have liked. The warm insides of my pockets won out over exposing my hands to the bitter cold for a photograph. But, you can very quickly enjoy Howth here!

I’ve had a request to blog about the classes I’m taking here at Trinity (shout out to Grammy!). So here’s a run-down of what I’ve got going:

Art in Ireland: The Making and Meaning – This class is interesting because I get to learn about all sorts of Irish Art and Architecture. Basically, I get to glance at a few pretty pictures on a power point in between furiously writing everything my professor is blathering at a speed that would give an auctioneer a run for his money. I’m not sure the woman even breathes. But we do get to go on two field trips in Dublin to see art, so I’m excited about that! I’m packing lunchables!

Gender, Culture, and Society – This is probably my favorite class. We talk about all sorts of topics relating to pop culture, subcultures, and how femininity/masculinity play a role. My professor always starts class with a cool video of someone like Jimmy Hendrix or The Who and manages to make ingenious connections to the material. We once spent an entire seminar talking about marijuana and alcohol. Ah, the life of a social science major. (Don’t worry Mom and Dad, my future will be just fine!)

Globalization and Development – Where I’m learning all about white people who think they’re helping people in impoverished third world and agricultural countries, but really all they’re doing is imposing ostentatious western ideals on people without trying to understand their culture or even understand their true needs. You know what they say about the road to hell …

European Societies – Where I’m learning an awful lot about America. Yep. It’s no wonder all the people here know more about the US than I do, they talk about it constantly! I never realized that America has set this huge standard of measurement for all other societies. Granted, this might be subject to the slight of my professor for this particular class. Nonetheless, Americans don’t even talk about themselves as much as the Europeans do. But this is also a really interesting class!

Social Theory and Inequality – Where I’m learning about all the different injustices we all suffer every single day of our lives. Basically, the gist of this class is: nothing is fair, and there’s nothing we can do about it. It’s really uplifting!

Race, Ethnicity, and Identity – My professor talks about different races and ethnic identification while power shifting through his very text heavy slides as I sit in the back and copy down a word or two every once in a while. But when I can string a sentence together it’s pretty interesting!

Truthfully, I’m making it sound worse than it actually is. Every single one of my classes is extremely interesting, even if the material isn’t always the most lighthearted. And although some of my professors teach as though they’re stuck on fast forward, it’s nothing I can’t handle. The scary part is that for all of my classes the final exam counts for 90% of my grade. Yowza. But I’m sure there will be plenty of time to study while I’m traversing through Europe this spring. I’ll have a lot of time on the train, right? (REALLY Mom and Dad, EVERYTHING is under control!)

This weekend we’re going on a trip to Northern Ireland through our IFSA-Butler program. We’ll be staying in Belfast and visiting Giant’s Causway, Dunluce Castle, and Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge which are all supposed to be really awesome! This time I’ll make sure my camera battery doesn’t die on me in an absolutely crucial and life changing moment. Bollocks!

Until next time!

Cockles and Mussels Alive, Alive Oh!

This post will be dedicated to the woman whose legendary song has become the unofficial anthem of Dublin City: Molly Malone.

I’ve been wanting to write a blog about this ever since Molly peaked my interest just a few short days after arriving in Dublin. The story goes that by day, Molly sold fresh fish from a wheel barrow that she wheeled around Dublin, but by night she made a living by “entertaining” various men. This struck me. A 17^th Century women who is a small business owner and prostitute gets a statue erected in the center of Dublin and inspires a song that has been lovingly belted out by generations of Irish. Interesting. Could Molly Malone have been the forerunner of women’s occupational and sexual liberation? Are we looking at one of the very first feminists?

I did a little more research on Molly and found that there is no evidence of an actual Molly Malone of this description having existed. It is more likely that the song was written as a representation of women like Molly who lived and worked in 17^th century Dublin. Even so, the idea that an independent woman like Molly Malone could be so well revered as to imbed herself as an established figure in Irish culture is both astounding and inspiring. Well … it’s inspiring to a feminist like myself who witnesses the relentless bashing of women’s sexuality on all too regular of a basis. So what does this say about cultural Irish attitudes towards women’s lib? Are the Irish more open minded than their conservative reputation leads us to believe? Is Molly Malone just an exception? Whatever the case may be, Molly still stands tall and proud smack in the center of downtown Dublin, and her legend lives on in the hearts of the Irish. Go get ‘em, girl!

Listen to the song here!