And so without due we come to the end of the second week; one of challenges, difficulties and growing opportunities. I am reminded of my days in Student Government at Grays Harbor College where we had such a diverse set of minds that it was a daily challenge to look upon things in a positive manner. Unfortunately we cannot always please everyone.
The Irish Language continues to perplex me and I have taken to listening to the recordings I have made, of the classes, in efforts to better get a grip on it. However, it still gets me frazzled so I must rely on determination and repetition. At the very least I have them to keep practicing on at home so that the next trip over I can at least have a basic understanding and be able to communicate.
The bodhran classes continue to teach me more techniques in playing the Irish drum and I am enjoying it deeply. Nothing touches my soul, other than Jill's love, like that of the beating rhythm of the drum. I only hope that the Russians have a similar native drum I can learn and add a third variety to my table.
If there is anything I am thankful for, other than being here with my wife on our 11th Anniversary, is that of the stories I am able to gather. It has become my goal throughout the many programs I plan on attending to gather such stories from all over the world in the respective places I have studied. For some reason it is what interests me the most, perhaps because if we forget those stories or people of the past we are indeed headed for cultural extinction.
I have had several conversations with academics, laypeople and travelers about the core elements of a culture and what is needed for it to survive. In this I have heard many say that language is perhaps the first element, and most vital, in order for a culture to survive the changing times. Language could be divided into it's origins, place names and structure.
There it moves into two directions - Music and Stories. From music you get songs, instruments and techniques. From Stories you get poetry, short stories/fables and non-fiction or biographies. Three aspects of each of the three main groups which contribute to the core of a culture, in my humble opinion.
I cannot wait to see what comes in the next few weeks, or the next year.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
The First Week
We near the end of our first week in the Gleann and I have already begun to see the world in a dramatically different way. With each passing day I am giving the gift of learning something new and interesting. On Wednesday we began learning a deeper understanding of places names all over Europe and Ireland, the commonality of those names and the connection to the Celtic people of the ancient world. It has evoked feelings I have little understanding of but the knowledge is something I am in awe of.
This was after bodhran playing, which was really quite exciting and exhilarating, rounding that day off as one of the best. Thursday we did drawing and dancing, both presenting a challenge to myself but very rewarding. It has been a long time since I sat down and drew and I can only hope that my patience lasts as long as this journey.
Today we will wrap up the week with a fantastic singer, singing in the "old style" of Irish sean-nós, and teaching us all about it. Not that we haven't learned but the whole experience here is to get it from the people themselves. It should be a grand time.
My dreams have been ones of interesting prospective; ranging from resolved issues to alternate lives and I cannot help but feel it is the Universe's way of confirming this path I am on. I hope to be able to have more as they seem to be helping in ways I had not expected. It is amazing at how vivid and surreal they have become since being here; causing me to want to dig deeper into their meanings in order to fully understand and utilize their messages.
This has indeed been a week of revelation and insight. I hope it continues this way.
This was after bodhran playing, which was really quite exciting and exhilarating, rounding that day off as one of the best. Thursday we did drawing and dancing, both presenting a challenge to myself but very rewarding. It has been a long time since I sat down and drew and I can only hope that my patience lasts as long as this journey.
Today we will wrap up the week with a fantastic singer, singing in the "old style" of Irish sean-nós, and teaching us all about it. Not that we haven't learned but the whole experience here is to get it from the people themselves. It should be a grand time.
My dreams have been ones of interesting prospective; ranging from resolved issues to alternate lives and I cannot help but feel it is the Universe's way of confirming this path I am on. I hope to be able to have more as they seem to be helping in ways I had not expected. It is amazing at how vivid and surreal they have become since being here; causing me to want to dig deeper into their meanings in order to fully understand and utilize their messages.
This has indeed been a week of revelation and insight. I hope it continues this way.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
The Gleann
As we have been here for a few days I have only begun to see the beauty possessed by the Emerald Isle. This place exceeds my expectations by way of the land's beauty. I cannot express how and what I have been feeling.
The language classes have truly challenged me. With my fellow classmates, and ever helpful wife, I am slowly gaining a foothold in this ancient tongue. I am eager to continue stepping over my tongue and learn more.
Yesterday we took a walk along the first portion of Saint Columba's journey in the Gleann. It was quite interesting to see the path he took and the Turas erected for it. One can only contemplate what he must have thought or heard as he made his journey.
As we made our way back I contemplated what he must have felt, and a deep silence entered into my mind and soul. What was the world like so many hundreds of years ago without all the modern conveniences that we have today. What is it they would have done to pass the time, other than deep meditation and contemplations.
Jill and I plan on doing the walk some day or night alone and to experience what it is that others may have gone through. The sense of spirituality is deep in this land, so deep like the veins of quartz, and flows like the waves that hit the nearby beach.
We met a poet by the name of Don Byrne who shared with us his poetry of his life experiences. It invoked a poem of my farewell to my father while sitting on the Liffey in Dublin. I plan on making a video of that place with a dubbing of that very poem. I'll post it when I get the chance and share it on Facebook.
I look forward to many more days here and the experiences I have here.
The language classes have truly challenged me. With my fellow classmates, and ever helpful wife, I am slowly gaining a foothold in this ancient tongue. I am eager to continue stepping over my tongue and learn more.
Yesterday we took a walk along the first portion of Saint Columba's journey in the Gleann. It was quite interesting to see the path he took and the Turas erected for it. One can only contemplate what he must have thought or heard as he made his journey.
As we made our way back I contemplated what he must have felt, and a deep silence entered into my mind and soul. What was the world like so many hundreds of years ago without all the modern conveniences that we have today. What is it they would have done to pass the time, other than deep meditation and contemplations.
Jill and I plan on doing the walk some day or night alone and to experience what it is that others may have gone through. The sense of spirituality is deep in this land, so deep like the veins of quartz, and flows like the waves that hit the nearby beach.
We met a poet by the name of Don Byrne who shared with us his poetry of his life experiences. It invoked a poem of my farewell to my father while sitting on the Liffey in Dublin. I plan on making a video of that place with a dubbing of that very poem. I'll post it when I get the chance and share it on Facebook.
I look forward to many more days here and the experiences I have here.
Friday, April 16, 2010
The Road Trip
Day Three
As we left Doolin I had a great sense of sadness fall over me. Not because I was missing home but because I felt a deep connection there and did not want to leave. Ann, the hostel hostess at Allie River Hostel, was gracious, kind and very enjoyable. She did everything she could to make us feel at home. She introduced me to Francis Noel, who was an encyclopedia of local information, lore and the history of the area.
I took him to a local pub and bought him a pint as we sat down and he began telling me some stories. He went on to explain migration patterns of the Scotch-Irish and how it was the Irish who crossed over to Scotland, Northern Scotland and fought with the tribes of Picts. It would be later in history that some of those same Irish, now Scots would be brought back into what would be known as the Ulster Plantation of King Henry VIII. I sat mesmerized as he spun his tales and as we walked back to the hostel he told me from where he came.
His family is of the Weir, not to be confused with Wier of England, and how he came to be at the hostel in what started out as a night camping in a tent and his becoming a tenant there. He shared a story with Jill and we had such a grand time that we stayed an extra night in order to enjoy their company some more. I must confess that I did not want to leave Doolin, it was a place that seemed to call out to my soul.
The night before we left I hugged Noel long and firmly. He is a man of impeccable qualities and I hope to meet up with him in the future, I have a deep feeling we will be back there. Ann was just such a delight and I cannot say enough about her. This lady from Australia beamed of the qualities one would find in any good person and I found myself very drawn to her friendliness. Later during our stay we met Carl, the proprietor of the hostel, and he was a fine gentleman. He shared with me tips of the bodhran and even played mine for a few moments.
When all was said and done I went to bed dreaming of returning and hoping it would not be so long to do so. The morning greeted us with great weather, again, and we continued our road trip to Galway.
Day Four
Day four was an incredibly chilly morning, and day, as we sped onwards towards Budget car rentals in Galway to drop off the car. We had a deadline and needed to be there in time, fortunately for us our hostel was but a few steps away.
Tired from all the driving and walking we just chilled in the Eyre Square locale and had a pint, some good fish and chips and settled in for the lengthy bus ride the next day towards our final destination.
That word means so much more to me now. Destination, the final place one goes when they are on a journey, or Great Walk (Siúl Mór), to met up with whatever may come. I hold no expectations, I hold no disillusions as I promised myself to emulate a fellow classmate and be free to see what may come.
I have seen, thanks Ian.
As we left Doolin I had a great sense of sadness fall over me. Not because I was missing home but because I felt a deep connection there and did not want to leave. Ann, the hostel hostess at Allie River Hostel, was gracious, kind and very enjoyable. She did everything she could to make us feel at home. She introduced me to Francis Noel, who was an encyclopedia of local information, lore and the history of the area.
I took him to a local pub and bought him a pint as we sat down and he began telling me some stories. He went on to explain migration patterns of the Scotch-Irish and how it was the Irish who crossed over to Scotland, Northern Scotland and fought with the tribes of Picts. It would be later in history that some of those same Irish, now Scots would be brought back into what would be known as the Ulster Plantation of King Henry VIII. I sat mesmerized as he spun his tales and as we walked back to the hostel he told me from where he came.
His family is of the Weir, not to be confused with Wier of England, and how he came to be at the hostel in what started out as a night camping in a tent and his becoming a tenant there. He shared a story with Jill and we had such a grand time that we stayed an extra night in order to enjoy their company some more. I must confess that I did not want to leave Doolin, it was a place that seemed to call out to my soul.
The night before we left I hugged Noel long and firmly. He is a man of impeccable qualities and I hope to meet up with him in the future, I have a deep feeling we will be back there. Ann was just such a delight and I cannot say enough about her. This lady from Australia beamed of the qualities one would find in any good person and I found myself very drawn to her friendliness. Later during our stay we met Carl, the proprietor of the hostel, and he was a fine gentleman. He shared with me tips of the bodhran and even played mine for a few moments.
When all was said and done I went to bed dreaming of returning and hoping it would not be so long to do so. The morning greeted us with great weather, again, and we continued our road trip to Galway.
Day Four
Day four was an incredibly chilly morning, and day, as we sped onwards towards Budget car rentals in Galway to drop off the car. We had a deadline and needed to be there in time, fortunately for us our hostel was but a few steps away.
Tired from all the driving and walking we just chilled in the Eyre Square locale and had a pint, some good fish and chips and settled in for the lengthy bus ride the next day towards our final destination.
That word means so much more to me now. Destination, the final place one goes when they are on a journey, or Great Walk (Siúl Mór), to met up with whatever may come. I hold no expectations, I hold no disillusions as I promised myself to emulate a fellow classmate and be free to see what may come.
I have seen, thanks Ian.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Road Trip
Day One
We left Dublin and traveled towards Waterford to see where Betsy's people came from. As we drove along the road the scenery reflected element and he began to tell me of his storys of the past and present, one could even see where the elements would be in the future as we saw homes with solar power and alternative housing constructions. It was something to see as it all weaved itself together.
The day ended with us in Tramore Town where we stayed at Beach Haven Hostel, which was a lovely place, where we had the entire room to our group of five. As the night came in I found myself speaking with Robert Faulkner, a Traveler, and he began telling me his story. I sat and listened to him speak of his childhood and how it had affected him into his early adulthood. It reminded me that in all places there are good and bad people and Robert would say that repeatedly.
In his childhood, he began, he would be beating by his parents as they came home from nights of heavy drinking. It left deep scars upon him as he recollected these painful times, you could see it in his eyes, and one that would be repeated by himself against his girlfriend. When he entered school they would "beat him down" and removed him from regular classes and placed him into a class with other Traveler children. A phrase he kept repeating was how if he had gained an education then he might be able to "join" the rest of the Irish society and be a part of something instead of "separate". His father was one who settled for a bit, then traveled, while his mother never left her roots.
In this time his family had a feud with a rival Traveler family and the violence was horrible. In that, the Garda (police) never would interfere and would not arrest people, simply happy to let them fight it out. When I asked him why he thought this was he simply stated, "When you are a Traveler no one cares. They lock the doors to keep you out." It was a cold and revealing statement, whether it was true or not, and showed the divisiveness of Irish society. I could not help but ask more questions as I was an ignorant American and wanted badly to understand how these people were just disregarded.
He knew where his people came from, over by Cork, and he knew their history. "500 years we have been wondering the land" he would often chip in as we spoke on. I asked him what he wanted to do and he went on to say that he wanted an education, he wanted a chance to right the things he had wronged, especially after the violence with the rival Traveler family escalated five years ago and ended with his father's death. He wanted to go back to Cork, as he loved that place, but did not ever want to return to Tralee in fear that he would end back into the rhythm of his past.
As we neared the end of his story, he is only 25, he spoke of how lost he was and that he did not know what to do.
I did the only thing I could do, I remembered his name, his story and now I am placing it here for the world to see. So in that Robert will never be forgotten and maybe someday someone can help the Travelers find a way out of the violence they were forced into over 500 years ago. This is for you Robert, I only hope that one day you find someone to tell your whole story so that we can learn from our past and prevent it in the future.
As I went to sleep I dreamt of old caravans and trailers moving along an old dark highway to an uncertain past, filled with sadness and desperation for a land that would only reach out and help them rise above the days of eviction and open up a home to them all. I awoke early in the morning, my father whispering "Michael" in my ear, and watched the sun rise as I said my goodbyes. I let go of him that morning, but I will always carry his memories and lessons with me.
Day Two
As we packed up the car to continue our road trip we headed back into Waterford so that Betsy could go to the local museum and see the history of her people. Ian, Haley and I strolled through the local City Center and did some shopping (I had to get a pair of shoes as my boots had worn a bruise into my ankle from all the time on the plane and walking Dublin!) and looking around. We visited the Christ Cathedral and learned of Lord Rye's Tomb, which is somewhere underneath, but the sarcophagus was on display. It was an amazing sight to see as we gazed upon ancient relics.
We then grabbed a bite to eat and headed to Cashel, where we all would visit the Rock of Cashel, a magnificent castle, and stayed the night there. Though the castle was awesome, the town went from being friendly to down right awkward at night. Needless to say we did not do much wondering there and retired for the early ride that would then take us towards Doolin.
So far Doolin is amazing. This quiet little town has so much character I almost feel like I stepped into a totally different Ireland.
I'll let you know how our journey ends here, we are staying a few nights in the Allie River Hostel and it is a grand place indeed to take a few days off to rest and recharge.
We left Dublin and traveled towards Waterford to see where Betsy's people came from. As we drove along the road the scenery reflected element and he began to tell me of his storys of the past and present, one could even see where the elements would be in the future as we saw homes with solar power and alternative housing constructions. It was something to see as it all weaved itself together.
The day ended with us in Tramore Town where we stayed at Beach Haven Hostel, which was a lovely place, where we had the entire room to our group of five. As the night came in I found myself speaking with Robert Faulkner, a Traveler, and he began telling me his story. I sat and listened to him speak of his childhood and how it had affected him into his early adulthood. It reminded me that in all places there are good and bad people and Robert would say that repeatedly.
In his childhood, he began, he would be beating by his parents as they came home from nights of heavy drinking. It left deep scars upon him as he recollected these painful times, you could see it in his eyes, and one that would be repeated by himself against his girlfriend. When he entered school they would "beat him down" and removed him from regular classes and placed him into a class with other Traveler children. A phrase he kept repeating was how if he had gained an education then he might be able to "join" the rest of the Irish society and be a part of something instead of "separate". His father was one who settled for a bit, then traveled, while his mother never left her roots.
In this time his family had a feud with a rival Traveler family and the violence was horrible. In that, the Garda (police) never would interfere and would not arrest people, simply happy to let them fight it out. When I asked him why he thought this was he simply stated, "When you are a Traveler no one cares. They lock the doors to keep you out." It was a cold and revealing statement, whether it was true or not, and showed the divisiveness of Irish society. I could not help but ask more questions as I was an ignorant American and wanted badly to understand how these people were just disregarded.
He knew where his people came from, over by Cork, and he knew their history. "500 years we have been wondering the land" he would often chip in as we spoke on. I asked him what he wanted to do and he went on to say that he wanted an education, he wanted a chance to right the things he had wronged, especially after the violence with the rival Traveler family escalated five years ago and ended with his father's death. He wanted to go back to Cork, as he loved that place, but did not ever want to return to Tralee in fear that he would end back into the rhythm of his past.
As we neared the end of his story, he is only 25, he spoke of how lost he was and that he did not know what to do.
I did the only thing I could do, I remembered his name, his story and now I am placing it here for the world to see. So in that Robert will never be forgotten and maybe someday someone can help the Travelers find a way out of the violence they were forced into over 500 years ago. This is for you Robert, I only hope that one day you find someone to tell your whole story so that we can learn from our past and prevent it in the future.
As I went to sleep I dreamt of old caravans and trailers moving along an old dark highway to an uncertain past, filled with sadness and desperation for a land that would only reach out and help them rise above the days of eviction and open up a home to them all. I awoke early in the morning, my father whispering "Michael" in my ear, and watched the sun rise as I said my goodbyes. I let go of him that morning, but I will always carry his memories and lessons with me.
Day Two
As we packed up the car to continue our road trip we headed back into Waterford so that Betsy could go to the local museum and see the history of her people. Ian, Haley and I strolled through the local City Center and did some shopping (I had to get a pair of shoes as my boots had worn a bruise into my ankle from all the time on the plane and walking Dublin!) and looking around. We visited the Christ Cathedral and learned of Lord Rye's Tomb, which is somewhere underneath, but the sarcophagus was on display. It was an amazing sight to see as we gazed upon ancient relics.
We then grabbed a bite to eat and headed to Cashel, where we all would visit the Rock of Cashel, a magnificent castle, and stayed the night there. Though the castle was awesome, the town went from being friendly to down right awkward at night. Needless to say we did not do much wondering there and retired for the early ride that would then take us towards Doolin.
So far Doolin is amazing. This quiet little town has so much character I almost feel like I stepped into a totally different Ireland.
I'll let you know how our journey ends here, we are staying a few nights in the Allie River Hostel and it is a grand place indeed to take a few days off to rest and recharge.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Our Arrival
As we walked off the plane in the Dublin terminal I immediately felt the Old World presence. We navigated our way through customs and were questioned about how long we would be here and whether or not we had enough money to stay that long. However, the gentleman at the customs check point was kind and a gentleman.
Instead of going to bed, being all excited and amped from the long flight, we strolled through Stephen's Green, visited Trinity College gazing upon the Book of Kells and sat down for a nice hot bowl of soup and brown bread. It was a very wonderful first day.
As we walked around we saw the Post Office where the 1916 Easter Uprising, the bullet holes from the British troops still mark the walls, and I am reminded of ohow very fragile our societies still are.
The Night Life of Dublin is filled with conversations and music, the pubs all watching Football (Soccer in America) and no one seems to be in a foul mood. I even met a gentleman by the name of James who described to me the head, the foam on the top of a stout or beer, was also referred to as the "Bishop's Hat" and that I should tell the bartender to top it off.
James was someone who I had an interest very much in, as it seemed he had been around. He hails from Scotland and is a man of deep insight and an easy going attitude. I think I may seek him out again today and get a more detailed conversation going on, hopefully he has some interesting stories to tell.
It was a long day filled with emotion and contemplation. From a dream of seeing the Book of Kells to seeing new and interesting people I had a fill that only going abroad could provide. I am still beside myself and am ever so grateful that I got this opportunity.
Instead of going to bed, being all excited and amped from the long flight, we strolled through Stephen's Green, visited Trinity College gazing upon the Book of Kells and sat down for a nice hot bowl of soup and brown bread. It was a very wonderful first day.
As we walked around we saw the Post Office where the 1916 Easter Uprising, the bullet holes from the British troops still mark the walls, and I am reminded of ohow very fragile our societies still are.
The Night Life of Dublin is filled with conversations and music, the pubs all watching Football (Soccer in America) and no one seems to be in a foul mood. I even met a gentleman by the name of James who described to me the head, the foam on the top of a stout or beer, was also referred to as the "Bishop's Hat" and that I should tell the bartender to top it off.
James was someone who I had an interest very much in, as it seemed he had been around. He hails from Scotland and is a man of deep insight and an easy going attitude. I think I may seek him out again today and get a more detailed conversation going on, hopefully he has some interesting stories to tell.
It was a long day filled with emotion and contemplation. From a dream of seeing the Book of Kells to seeing new and interesting people I had a fill that only going abroad could provide. I am still beside myself and am ever so grateful that I got this opportunity.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Preparing For The Journey
I am just a few nights away from leaving the United States to venture to Ireland, another country with entirely different social system. I am excited along with anxious, hoping that I am capable of absorbing as much about the Irish as I can. Yet something deep inside me feels like it is returning to a point of origin, coming home.
I have had many restless nights as I go over plans, repack my backpack and organize affairs in case of emergencies. You can only do so much planning though and in the end you have to give it up to faith and just hope all goes well without incident. You cannot let those insecurities or worries paralyze you, and it is in that irony that I find myself experiencing a bit of Irish cyclical nature.
So this evening we sat and played games with our neighbors, had leftover quiet time with our daughter, and finished up wandering thoughts on the internet. A swirl of actions in one day. I look forward to what tomorrow has to offer, and what the next seven weeks bring forth.
I have had many restless nights as I go over plans, repack my backpack and organize affairs in case of emergencies. You can only do so much planning though and in the end you have to give it up to faith and just hope all goes well without incident. You cannot let those insecurities or worries paralyze you, and it is in that irony that I find myself experiencing a bit of Irish cyclical nature.
So this evening we sat and played games with our neighbors, had leftover quiet time with our daughter, and finished up wandering thoughts on the internet. A swirl of actions in one day. I look forward to what tomorrow has to offer, and what the next seven weeks bring forth.
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