The Return

I awoke this morning feeling disoriented and lost. The sun was barely peaking out when my internal Irish clock went off, signaling I had overslept and it was now noon. This is going to be a long few days of returning for me.

As I stood outside and greeted the day, like I used to in Ireland, I looked around my familiar setting. Birds, of various types, singing in the trees, the quiet discourse of the morning schedule interrupted by the tranquil stillness of Cooper's Glen, and the whole thought of was it just a dream?

We left the hotel The Temple Bar at an early 9 a.m. getting to the bus stop just as it pulled up, stood on the bus, as it was packed from worried travelers, and began our 24 hour journey home. Dublin Airport was a madhouse, we thought we'd have at least some area to sit in, but the place they put us - along with all the misplaced travelers - was a basement section of the airport where they attempted to beat a World Guinness Record of just how many Americans can you cram into a tiny airport space.

We ran into one classmate who had been the victim of the volcano burping and he was just as happy as us to be flying home. By the time our flight was boarding, there was a completely filled plane, and it was half-full when we flew in the first time.

We then got delayed, which caused an immediate rush of complaints and grumbles - including from myself - of which was quieted down after we actually boarded. Once in the air we all began to settle down and felt our spirits soar. It would be an 8 hour flight to Chicago and then a layover.

We arrived late into Chicago, leaving us with only an hour and a half to check our luggage in, scramble to the other side of the airport and for me to have a quick smoke. Once we actually got to the gate we found we were immediately boarding and another sigh of relief escaped our mouths. So close I kept chanting.

Once in the air I could feel my thoughts begin to try and decipher the last six weeks of my life. How the hell am I going to be able to put this all down in a coherent piece?

The stories, the experiences and the links I have seen throughout my time in Ireland is amazing and so rampant. All throughout the last leg of our journey I kept looking at my wife and thanking Brigid we were on our way home to family and friends. Mostly thanking Brigid for not letting that volcano hold us up any longer.

We stepped off the plane 40 minutes early, grabbed our luggage, met our wonderful niece and drove to Taco Bell. Our first meal was one of savory taco meat and taco condiments of which we suddenly felt a deep thankfulness that we could actually do that - at any time or day - and without having to drive to another city.

How strange that feels. How alien it was to be in America once again after being gone for so long. We drove on what we call normal roads, we can go shopping in what we call normal stores and we can do things later than in most towns and parishes of Ireland. It leaves one wondering of it all.

How Strange

How strange it is to see so many stores,
from where we came there was but a few,
and even less open on a daily basis,
How Strange it is as I awake to different sounds,
no lambs baying in the distance,
no ocean waves to be heard,
How strange is it to be able to drive again,
on the right side of the road,
to have stop lights instead of round-abouts,
How strange it is to walk outside of my bedroom door,
not hearing the daily clatter of friends,
or the midnight door slams,
How strange it is to notice the differences,
to feel so comfortable,
and yet so far away,
How strange is it to have left something behind,
feeling like you haven't really come home,
and yet knowing when you are.

The Final Week

As we came off the rush of having visited Derry and learned of the Celtic Calendar, we entered into the week of uneasiness and rampant emotions. Since the First Week we have dealt with an active volcano and people we feeling the pressure of it by way of flight delays and nervousness. This was mixed with most of us feeling the desire to be home, even though we were enjoying ourselves, caused by homesickness and familiarity.

As we entered the week and finished our Gaeltacht Studies, we all began to get back into our groove. It was an excellent session followed up with a week of more music, dancing and stories. It ended with a potluck dinner with stories and songs all around. In the end we all settled in and finished it up with some mighty craic.

As I sit here in Dublin, on our final evening, I am filled with a deep bittersweet feeling. I miss my daughter, my cats and my king size bed, I know I will miss my new friends, beautiful landscapes and all the stories I could possibly get on recordings. I have so much more to get and it leaves me wanting to make future trips out here.

What it has shown me is how to overcome personal dilemmas,rise above petty feelings and to harness that inner gift for gab that I have. It has also prepared me for future trips, in so many ways, and even makes me eager to undertake another one.

As I head home in the morning I know I will shed a few tears; not for sadness but of the prospects of what lay ahead of me. In all this I have discovered a world that I had no idea existed. Places filled with meaning and ancient names and ruins that are just waiting for us to discover and learn about. It has shown me that there is only one way to overcome ignorance to the world around me. Through education, through communication and understanding we can open doors.

War does not need to be this cataclysm. Imperialism does not need to be the mechanism. We could all learn a lot from our neighbors, be it Canadian, Russian or European. By learning what it is they have undergone, what their histories are and what their people know can we overcome this path of blissful ignorance.

By learning their stories, songs and languages we can bridge the differences with understanding and compassion.

The Third Week

It perhaps was the hardest week, or maybe second hardest next to week four, as we began it with a whirlwind of activities and trips. During this week we would head to Derry, Heard stories from a lady who also sang and did more music playing. It was a great week.

One of the highlights of the week was the final bodhran class. I had the privilege of meeting a gentleman who inspired me in many ways. Spiritually, mentally and physically as he told me stories of his past. It is interesting to get such inspiration from someone who has seen much in their life.

Another highlight was getting a deeper look into the Celtic Calendar and having an internal light go on. So much of it I have studied alone, or with Jill, that it was definitely a bonus to get an academic viewpoint on it. It has caused me to really question some dogmatic practices of several organized religions.

We finished the week with a trip to Northern Ireland which felt like a different place entirely. The city layout, the people's attitudes and the lack of Gaelic surprised me, even though I knew what to expect. It was not a place to get stories as many still harbor deep resentment towards the Nationalists.

The whole week seemed to paint two very different tales of the Irish. On one hand you have the Nationalists who are relearning their language, their heritage and their ancient past, while on the other hand you have the Loyalists who seem rather content on forgetting that segment of Ireland's history and Identity. It left me bewildered by a feeling of separation.