Monday, August 22, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
Introspection, travel, and an overview
August 18, 2011
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
I’m back in the US, safe and sound. I wrote this in the airport before I left Africa. It’s good to be home, but I am so glad I went.
I’m sitting on the floor of terminal 2 in the Addis Abba International Airport in easy sight of the monitor that I hope will be flashing my departing gate relatively soon. I have been assured it will indeed appear there, so I will wait. I mean, I do have like two hours before my flight leaves which gives me plenty of time to find out which one of the eight gates funnels people to Washington and then, for me, to home.
And….even as I wrote gate number 6 flashed beside my flight number, my personal version of Dorothy’s tornado. I am now sitting beside it having gotten the cool seat beside the window that was still open because my ever-early self was one of the first passengers to arrive. It pays to be early…usually.
We left Jinja around 9:30 this morning and arrived in Kampala in time for lunch at a Mexican restaurant the girls love. Today, our meal was simultaneously symbolic and celebratory. This was the restaurant Christina and Mandie went to after picking up Meems, the little girl who, now, months later, is officially Christina’s daughter and is going home to America for the first time tonight. We had chips, salsa, queso, guacamole, and isn’t-love-and-God-beautiful margaritas together; a lovely way to finish off my brief stay in Uganda.
So far, all my flights/check-ins have been smooth. Ethiopian Airlines feeds you about every 20 minutes, which I LOVE, so I’m feeling full and happy as I wait for the next 13- hour installment of flight attendant-care. I am enjoying traveling alone. Not that I mind having people with me (I am certainly missing my amazing travel buddy, Courtney), but the chance to retreat into myself and think or observe or just “be” by myself while hundreds of people and sounds surge around me is somehow soothing. Proof in the pudding that I am indeed an introvert.
I stood for a few minutes on the front porch this morning, feeling the cool air and trying to realize I was leaving. I felt like I had only been here for a short time, while simultaneously feeling like I’d always been here. I don’t know if that means that I adapt quickly to places or whether I just have a weirdly bad memory. Who can say…
I wrote on my way here that I had the nagging suspicion that God was taking me to Africa not for me to give something, but for him to give something to me, and I think that suspicion proved true. Yes, when the babies were sick or when I dropped developing solution (I completely forgot what it’s really called) onto a few malaria tests at Katie’s clinic, I “helped,” I “gave.” But in doing those things, in hanging out with the other 5 girls in the house, in snuggling and cleaning and diapering the precious babies, in seeing what I saw, and slipping into life in Uganda, I received SO much more. Of most note, perhaps, was the gift of realizing that I, that we as humans, were not meant to live life easily. Our hearts and souls and bodies were not made for tameness or for the vanilla lifestyle we seem to try to build for ourselves. In the comparative “hardships” of life in a third world country when compared to my life at home, my heart responded to the needs that were there and it not only rose to the occasion to provide what was needed, but I felt alive and connected to myself and to what was going on around me through that lack-of-ease. I am certainly not saying that a life that has seasons of comparative ease is not good. Nor am I not saying that living a life that is hard somehow better or “truer” than any other. I am saying, however, that we were created with the ability and the desire to respond to need, to fulfill a position that calls on the strength we did not need when our lives were easy. It can’t possibly be glamorous; I only have had brief glimpse of it, and it is really not always pretty. But it is enlivening.
I consider this trip to be the perfect cap to my summer. While a cruise or something like that would have been wonderful (and I won’t lie and say that I did not think about that rather longingly at 2 am with a vomiting baby beside me), this gave me something I could not have received from a cruise or a road trip with friends. I am honestly not sure exactly what it gave me. In addition to my realization above, perhaps I received a better depth of perspective as I view the world, or a renewed sense of the beauty, annoyance and fun that different personalities can create when thrown together in confined spaces for extended periods of time. But all in all, I think whatever Africa gave me will be much longer-lasting, much more deeply-seated, and much less obvious than I expected. It might be a subtle change, it might be a drastic one, or it might be right in the middle, affecting some parts of me strongly and others only slightly. But I don’t think there’s a way you can come to this country and not be affected somehow, even if it’s only by the mixture of its immense natural beauty with its poverty. I am happy to be coming home, but I am not at all disappointed by my choice to spend these last days of summer in Africa. It’s the best decision I could have made.
Addis Ababa, Ethiopia
I’m back in the US, safe and sound. I wrote this in the airport before I left Africa. It’s good to be home, but I am so glad I went.
I’m sitting on the floor of terminal 2 in the Addis Abba International Airport in easy sight of the monitor that I hope will be flashing my departing gate relatively soon. I have been assured it will indeed appear there, so I will wait. I mean, I do have like two hours before my flight leaves which gives me plenty of time to find out which one of the eight gates funnels people to Washington and then, for me, to home.
And….even as I wrote gate number 6 flashed beside my flight number, my personal version of Dorothy’s tornado. I am now sitting beside it having gotten the cool seat beside the window that was still open because my ever-early self was one of the first passengers to arrive. It pays to be early…usually.
We left Jinja around 9:30 this morning and arrived in Kampala in time for lunch at a Mexican restaurant the girls love. Today, our meal was simultaneously symbolic and celebratory. This was the restaurant Christina and Mandie went to after picking up Meems, the little girl who, now, months later, is officially Christina’s daughter and is going home to America for the first time tonight. We had chips, salsa, queso, guacamole, and isn’t-love-and-God-beautiful margaritas together; a lovely way to finish off my brief stay in Uganda.
So far, all my flights/check-ins have been smooth. Ethiopian Airlines feeds you about every 20 minutes, which I LOVE, so I’m feeling full and happy as I wait for the next 13- hour installment of flight attendant-care. I am enjoying traveling alone. Not that I mind having people with me (I am certainly missing my amazing travel buddy, Courtney), but the chance to retreat into myself and think or observe or just “be” by myself while hundreds of people and sounds surge around me is somehow soothing. Proof in the pudding that I am indeed an introvert.
I stood for a few minutes on the front porch this morning, feeling the cool air and trying to realize I was leaving. I felt like I had only been here for a short time, while simultaneously feeling like I’d always been here. I don’t know if that means that I adapt quickly to places or whether I just have a weirdly bad memory. Who can say…
I wrote on my way here that I had the nagging suspicion that God was taking me to Africa not for me to give something, but for him to give something to me, and I think that suspicion proved true. Yes, when the babies were sick or when I dropped developing solution (I completely forgot what it’s really called) onto a few malaria tests at Katie’s clinic, I “helped,” I “gave.” But in doing those things, in hanging out with the other 5 girls in the house, in snuggling and cleaning and diapering the precious babies, in seeing what I saw, and slipping into life in Uganda, I received SO much more. Of most note, perhaps, was the gift of realizing that I, that we as humans, were not meant to live life easily. Our hearts and souls and bodies were not made for tameness or for the vanilla lifestyle we seem to try to build for ourselves. In the comparative “hardships” of life in a third world country when compared to my life at home, my heart responded to the needs that were there and it not only rose to the occasion to provide what was needed, but I felt alive and connected to myself and to what was going on around me through that lack-of-ease. I am certainly not saying that a life that has seasons of comparative ease is not good. Nor am I not saying that living a life that is hard somehow better or “truer” than any other. I am saying, however, that we were created with the ability and the desire to respond to need, to fulfill a position that calls on the strength we did not need when our lives were easy. It can’t possibly be glamorous; I only have had brief glimpse of it, and it is really not always pretty. But it is enlivening.
I consider this trip to be the perfect cap to my summer. While a cruise or something like that would have been wonderful (and I won’t lie and say that I did not think about that rather longingly at 2 am with a vomiting baby beside me), this gave me something I could not have received from a cruise or a road trip with friends. I am honestly not sure exactly what it gave me. In addition to my realization above, perhaps I received a better depth of perspective as I view the world, or a renewed sense of the beauty, annoyance and fun that different personalities can create when thrown together in confined spaces for extended periods of time. But all in all, I think whatever Africa gave me will be much longer-lasting, much more deeply-seated, and much less obvious than I expected. It might be a subtle change, it might be a drastic one, or it might be right in the middle, affecting some parts of me strongly and others only slightly. But I don’t think there’s a way you can come to this country and not be affected somehow, even if it’s only by the mixture of its immense natural beauty with its poverty. I am happy to be coming home, but I am not at all disappointed by my choice to spend these last days of summer in Africa. It’s the best decision I could have made.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Short posts and open-air markets
August 17, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today was technically my last day in Uganda. We’ll be leaving Jinja by car tomorrow morning to head up the Kampala where I will then get to the airport. I’m bittersweet about it, leaving I mean. I’m planning to use my 24 hours of solo travel time to reflect and write a little, but tonight, I plan to be with the girls, talk, laugh, and eat on my last evening here. I don’t have the time to reflect that I need to really write what I want to so, sometime in the next 3 days, I will send out whatever I end up writing while on my way back to home. :)
Our big outing today consisted of going to the central market, which is basically a mall except its open-air, flea market-esque, and the floor is a little muddy, the air is a little smelly, and the isles are a little narrow. There was everything from baby clothes, to bathmats, potato sacks to popcorn in tiny little bags there. It was a cool experience. We spent awhile there, wending our way back and forth through the many, many rows of stalls. Other than that outing, our day was pretty quiet. The babies are both well on the way to being better, so much so that we are not planning to stay up with them around the clock tonight.
We’ll be leaving here in the morning to get to Kampala and have some lunch before I head off on my long trek back stateside.
I’m coming home.
Jinja, Uganda
Today was technically my last day in Uganda. We’ll be leaving Jinja by car tomorrow morning to head up the Kampala where I will then get to the airport. I’m bittersweet about it, leaving I mean. I’m planning to use my 24 hours of solo travel time to reflect and write a little, but tonight, I plan to be with the girls, talk, laugh, and eat on my last evening here. I don’t have the time to reflect that I need to really write what I want to so, sometime in the next 3 days, I will send out whatever I end up writing while on my way back to home. :)
Our big outing today consisted of going to the central market, which is basically a mall except its open-air, flea market-esque, and the floor is a little muddy, the air is a little smelly, and the isles are a little narrow. There was everything from baby clothes, to bathmats, potato sacks to popcorn in tiny little bags there. It was a cool experience. We spent awhile there, wending our way back and forth through the many, many rows of stalls. Other than that outing, our day was pretty quiet. The babies are both well on the way to being better, so much so that we are not planning to stay up with them around the clock tonight.
We’ll be leaving here in the morning to get to Kampala and have some lunch before I head off on my long trek back stateside.
I’m coming home.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Reflection, grace, learning and beans
August 16, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
I’m feeling rather introspective and reflective tonight, so this post reflects that. Forewarned is forearmed, so they say. :)
After having finished my dinner of red beans and rice (which is delicious), I am on the girls’ front porch with my little Netbook in my lap. The sunset is beautiful tonight, its orange tint just barley touching the purple-gray rainclouds rolling in. The little flocks of birds that fly through appear starkly against that backdrop and their calls are easy to hear without the noise of cars or buses to drown them out. The breeze is cool and rustles through the long leaves of the palm trees that tower at least 30 feet above me. All in all, the stillness and beauty of this country is very apparent tonight and I could almost think I was in some kind of resort. That is, if I didn’t know there was a man outside who has just gone through our garbage, and clouds of fruit flies in the house, and little whimpers from tiny babies floating through the window beside me.
Last night with the babies was quieter for everyone. Mama Faith came and took care of AR so the rest of us took shifts by twos through the night with E. The babies have definitely improved, although the last few days have been difficult for everyone involved. Today we gave ourselves a break from dirty diapers and I.V.’s by going into town for lunch. Getting out of the house felt SO awesome.
This afternoon we went to a weekly clinic run about 5 minutes walk from Mandie’s run by Katie Davis in her home, a 23 year old amazing young woman living here in Jinja. It was quieter today than normal, apparently, with only around 12 people and their children coming through in the two hours the clinic ran. The extent to which my physical helping extended was to assist in giving two malaria tests and grabbing a few medicines from the closest that functions as dispensary. I did get to observe a lot though. I saw wounds being cleaned and evacuated, HIV testings, nursing babies, old burns, new sores, and a lot of other things…I saw a lot in that sun-filled front porch. I felt there a sense of vulnerability in those coming and compassion in those attending that was a beautiful picture of grace. They needed help, and when they came and asked for it and the waited for the time it could be given, the help was given graciously and with individualized focus. I think I saw a picture of the way God sees our needs today. Katie knew that there was need, so the clinic was open for anyone who would come. Those who chose to come were humble (or desperate) enough to ignore any pride and to ask for help. When they asked, help was freely given with no strings attached. It’s a unique combination of initiative, humility, vulnerability, action, and waiting all mixed together. Interestingly, though, all five aspects need to be practiced by both groups (the needers and the givers) in order for the exchange to function well…
I noticed another thing while sitting and listening to Katie, Mandie and Courtney attend to the people at the clinic. I became poignantly aware of how much there is to know in the world. It’s so obvious, but it hit me in a different way today than it had before. To realize that no matter how much I learn or how much I know that there will always be more that’s unknown, more that I can choose to discover (or not to discover) makes me exited. Call me a nerd; call me passionate; or just call me a twenty-one year old. Actually, now that I think of it, call me all three! I’m passionately nerdy twenty-one year old who is becoming acutely aware of the vastness that is life. :)
Mandie, my sister, wrote a powerful blog post today on the gift of the Now, appreciating and living in the current situation in which you are living. I have been realizing that, over the years, my love of efficiency and looking forward to the future has kept me from really experiencing my now. Not that efficiency and the future are bad things, quite the contrary, but I had my balances wrong with too little attention to the present. In the last seven to ten months or so, I have been more intentional in my attention to the present, trying to balance it with my natural tendency to focus mostly on planning and the future. That being said, in the last few days, I have been finding myself becoming restless and impatient with my present: the flies and the vomit and the power going out and the lack of sleep. It came in flashes, but it was still there. When I read Mandie’s post though, it was like a mental step-back for me. I simply decided to live in this present, in this now, acknowledging the good and the bad, the smelly and the sweet, the tired and the energy, the frustration and the fun. I don’t have to like it necessarily; sometimes I really don’t. But by not focusing my mind simply on what’s coming next, I’m more available, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, to the people and the situations that comprise my now. It’s so logical, and since I love logic so much, you think I’d have already figured this out. But, truly, I love the fact that I will never stop learning. Maybe it’s not so bad that this is just one of the things I’m getting to learn now. In my Now. I’m learning about my Now now. Ironic…
But that’s cool too, because in addition to logic, I dearly love irony. :)
Jinja, Uganda
I’m feeling rather introspective and reflective tonight, so this post reflects that. Forewarned is forearmed, so they say. :)
After having finished my dinner of red beans and rice (which is delicious), I am on the girls’ front porch with my little Netbook in my lap. The sunset is beautiful tonight, its orange tint just barley touching the purple-gray rainclouds rolling in. The little flocks of birds that fly through appear starkly against that backdrop and their calls are easy to hear without the noise of cars or buses to drown them out. The breeze is cool and rustles through the long leaves of the palm trees that tower at least 30 feet above me. All in all, the stillness and beauty of this country is very apparent tonight and I could almost think I was in some kind of resort. That is, if I didn’t know there was a man outside who has just gone through our garbage, and clouds of fruit flies in the house, and little whimpers from tiny babies floating through the window beside me.
Last night with the babies was quieter for everyone. Mama Faith came and took care of AR so the rest of us took shifts by twos through the night with E. The babies have definitely improved, although the last few days have been difficult for everyone involved. Today we gave ourselves a break from dirty diapers and I.V.’s by going into town for lunch. Getting out of the house felt SO awesome.
This afternoon we went to a weekly clinic run about 5 minutes walk from Mandie’s run by Katie Davis in her home, a 23 year old amazing young woman living here in Jinja. It was quieter today than normal, apparently, with only around 12 people and their children coming through in the two hours the clinic ran. The extent to which my physical helping extended was to assist in giving two malaria tests and grabbing a few medicines from the closest that functions as dispensary. I did get to observe a lot though. I saw wounds being cleaned and evacuated, HIV testings, nursing babies, old burns, new sores, and a lot of other things…I saw a lot in that sun-filled front porch. I felt there a sense of vulnerability in those coming and compassion in those attending that was a beautiful picture of grace. They needed help, and when they came and asked for it and the waited for the time it could be given, the help was given graciously and with individualized focus. I think I saw a picture of the way God sees our needs today. Katie knew that there was need, so the clinic was open for anyone who would come. Those who chose to come were humble (or desperate) enough to ignore any pride and to ask for help. When they asked, help was freely given with no strings attached. It’s a unique combination of initiative, humility, vulnerability, action, and waiting all mixed together. Interestingly, though, all five aspects need to be practiced by both groups (the needers and the givers) in order for the exchange to function well…
I noticed another thing while sitting and listening to Katie, Mandie and Courtney attend to the people at the clinic. I became poignantly aware of how much there is to know in the world. It’s so obvious, but it hit me in a different way today than it had before. To realize that no matter how much I learn or how much I know that there will always be more that’s unknown, more that I can choose to discover (or not to discover) makes me exited. Call me a nerd; call me passionate; or just call me a twenty-one year old. Actually, now that I think of it, call me all three! I’m passionately nerdy twenty-one year old who is becoming acutely aware of the vastness that is life. :)
Mandie, my sister, wrote a powerful blog post today on the gift of the Now, appreciating and living in the current situation in which you are living. I have been realizing that, over the years, my love of efficiency and looking forward to the future has kept me from really experiencing my now. Not that efficiency and the future are bad things, quite the contrary, but I had my balances wrong with too little attention to the present. In the last seven to ten months or so, I have been more intentional in my attention to the present, trying to balance it with my natural tendency to focus mostly on planning and the future. That being said, in the last few days, I have been finding myself becoming restless and impatient with my present: the flies and the vomit and the power going out and the lack of sleep. It came in flashes, but it was still there. When I read Mandie’s post though, it was like a mental step-back for me. I simply decided to live in this present, in this now, acknowledging the good and the bad, the smelly and the sweet, the tired and the energy, the frustration and the fun. I don’t have to like it necessarily; sometimes I really don’t. But by not focusing my mind simply on what’s coming next, I’m more available, mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually, to the people and the situations that comprise my now. It’s so logical, and since I love logic so much, you think I’d have already figured this out. But, truly, I love the fact that I will never stop learning. Maybe it’s not so bad that this is just one of the things I’m getting to learn now. In my Now. I’m learning about my Now now. Ironic…
But that’s cool too, because in addition to logic, I dearly love irony. :)
Monday, August 15, 2011
Humor, choices, flies and laundry (or the lack thereof)
August 15, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
It’s been a relatively quiet day today after last night’s adventure with the babies. I went to bed around 2:30 and got to sleep longer than anyone else (about 4 hours) and then got up around 7:00 and joined Courtney out in the living room so Mandie and Kate could sleep for a while. The babies are little fighters and are doing better.
FYI, a sense of humor is essential here (and maybe also in any house where there are small children, especially sick small children). Between the flies, and the vomiting, and the lady who didn’t wash, dry or iron the laundry (meaning we have very little clean things left), and other…“occurrences”…for lack of a better word, there is so much to cause stress and worry and irritation and anger. But I’ve been astounded at how much laughter there is in this house, even in the midst of the craziness. I was astounded because I found myself growing so frustrated and tired and angry and was starting to get annoyed by the seeming “ease” (even though it’s totally not easy) with which the girls were functioning. Then I realized that one’s reaction to any situation is really a choice. Certainly you have an initial reaction (maybe happiness, or anger, and fear, or irritation), but ultimately, one chooses what they will do with that emotion. You choose whether or not it’s a good emotion with which to deal with the current situation. In this case, perhaps irritation or anger is the initial reaction to a lot of the things that happen here, but it is not necessarily the best response. Even if it is simply to keep yourself from turning into a bitter grouch or discouraged pessimist, choosing to respond to what life throws at you through your sense of humor is not only smart, it’s internally healthy.
Note to self.
Lesson learned.
Or at least, lesson seen and trying to be absorbed, which is not quite the same...
Tomorrow is my last day here in Jinja. Since I’m flying out of Kampala Thursday afternoon, we’ll be making the trip up there Wednesday morning to stay the night and get all our baggage situated and me to the airport on time. I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Playing by ear…that’s the name of the game, folks. That used to be so hard for me, but it’s getting easier now. Just in time too.
Jinja, Uganda
It’s been a relatively quiet day today after last night’s adventure with the babies. I went to bed around 2:30 and got to sleep longer than anyone else (about 4 hours) and then got up around 7:00 and joined Courtney out in the living room so Mandie and Kate could sleep for a while. The babies are little fighters and are doing better.
FYI, a sense of humor is essential here (and maybe also in any house where there are small children, especially sick small children). Between the flies, and the vomiting, and the lady who didn’t wash, dry or iron the laundry (meaning we have very little clean things left), and other…“occurrences”…for lack of a better word, there is so much to cause stress and worry and irritation and anger. But I’ve been astounded at how much laughter there is in this house, even in the midst of the craziness. I was astounded because I found myself growing so frustrated and tired and angry and was starting to get annoyed by the seeming “ease” (even though it’s totally not easy) with which the girls were functioning. Then I realized that one’s reaction to any situation is really a choice. Certainly you have an initial reaction (maybe happiness, or anger, and fear, or irritation), but ultimately, one chooses what they will do with that emotion. You choose whether or not it’s a good emotion with which to deal with the current situation. In this case, perhaps irritation or anger is the initial reaction to a lot of the things that happen here, but it is not necessarily the best response. Even if it is simply to keep yourself from turning into a bitter grouch or discouraged pessimist, choosing to respond to what life throws at you through your sense of humor is not only smart, it’s internally healthy.
Note to self.
Lesson learned.
Or at least, lesson seen and trying to be absorbed, which is not quite the same...
Tomorrow is my last day here in Jinja. Since I’m flying out of Kampala Thursday afternoon, we’ll be making the trip up there Wednesday morning to stay the night and get all our baggage situated and me to the airport on time. I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for tomorrow. Playing by ear…that’s the name of the game, folks. That used to be so hard for me, but it’s getting easier now. Just in time too.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
On not being dramtic; a PS to my previous post
August 14, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Just a note: the babies are not as sick as they seemed to me; my inexperienced eye must see things bigger than they are. They are sick, but not so badly that the girls (the ones who know what they’re looking at) are really worried. I just didn’t want anyone to worry overmuch because of my dramatic re-telling of the day’s events. We’re planning on taking shifts with them tonight, so everything will be fine here. :)
Jinja, Uganda
Just a note: the babies are not as sick as they seemed to me; my inexperienced eye must see things bigger than they are. They are sick, but not so badly that the girls (the ones who know what they’re looking at) are really worried. I just didn’t want anyone to worry overmuch because of my dramatic re-telling of the day’s events. We’re planning on taking shifts with them tonight, so everything will be fine here. :)
Vomit, I.V.'s, Knowledge and Love
August 14, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
We went to church this morning. Whether it was because I had slept badly last night or was just a little uncertain in this new environment, I was not inclined to go, for whatever reason. But we bodaed up and went anyway, and I am so glad we did. There was an energy of real-ness among the people gathered that I sensed that was so refreshing. The worship time and the message were energetic and felt like it was based not on duty, but on desire. I loved it.
We are having a very Ugandan afternoon here. As I wrote before, baby E has been sick for the past few days. The girls had to test her multiple times for malaria, but every time she came back negative. Today, however, the fever and diarrhea she’s been having since yesterday have increased and been joined by vomiting up, within minutes, everything she’s been eating. Courtney has been an unbelievable trooper and a beautiful blessing as she’s been caring for E today; both she and E have been through 4 different changes of clothes in the last six hours. E. is severely dehydrated and can’t keep anything down, formula or water, so after the third projectile vomiting incident today, the girls decided she needed hydration more than anything and decided to IV her. We didn’t have any needles small enough for her tiny, tiny body here in the house, so they called one of the other girls who lives near here who happened to have a neo-nat needle. She came over and began the getting the supplies for the IV ready. At this point, A.R. who had just gotten up from her nap decided to begin projectile vomiting as well. We cleaned that up, hoping that it was just an isolated incident, perhaps a bid for attention. The outcome of that particular situation still remains to be seen…
Renee, the girl who came over with the neo-nat needle, did the actual IV beautifully on the first stick and baby E was such a trooper through it. Her tiny little arms and dark skin make finding a good vein difficult but we were blessed that it went smoothly this time. It was difficult to get the IV dripping at first, but with the girls’ continued efforts it began running. Hopefully she’ll be feeling better soon; the saline in the IV should stop the vicious cycle of dehydration that causes her to continue to lose fluids while simultaneously keeping her from being able to absorb them.
That’s all for now. My heart has been alive today, not for anything I have done, but for what I have seen. I have hardly even been needed (my knowledge does not extend to the medical realm at all; I do what I can behind the scenes), but I have been able to observe. Observe need. Observe giving. Observe knowledge and love in action. Observe tender hearts, willing minds and strong hands. Observe selflessness in the knowledge that one may not be in an ideal situation, but one is simply needed and will rise to the meeting of that need. It’s beautiful.
It’s not necessarily pretty, but it is unbelievably beautiful.
Jinja, Uganda
We went to church this morning. Whether it was because I had slept badly last night or was just a little uncertain in this new environment, I was not inclined to go, for whatever reason. But we bodaed up and went anyway, and I am so glad we did. There was an energy of real-ness among the people gathered that I sensed that was so refreshing. The worship time and the message were energetic and felt like it was based not on duty, but on desire. I loved it.
We are having a very Ugandan afternoon here. As I wrote before, baby E has been sick for the past few days. The girls had to test her multiple times for malaria, but every time she came back negative. Today, however, the fever and diarrhea she’s been having since yesterday have increased and been joined by vomiting up, within minutes, everything she’s been eating. Courtney has been an unbelievable trooper and a beautiful blessing as she’s been caring for E today; both she and E have been through 4 different changes of clothes in the last six hours. E. is severely dehydrated and can’t keep anything down, formula or water, so after the third projectile vomiting incident today, the girls decided she needed hydration more than anything and decided to IV her. We didn’t have any needles small enough for her tiny, tiny body here in the house, so they called one of the other girls who lives near here who happened to have a neo-nat needle. She came over and began the getting the supplies for the IV ready. At this point, A.R. who had just gotten up from her nap decided to begin projectile vomiting as well. We cleaned that up, hoping that it was just an isolated incident, perhaps a bid for attention. The outcome of that particular situation still remains to be seen…
Renee, the girl who came over with the neo-nat needle, did the actual IV beautifully on the first stick and baby E was such a trooper through it. Her tiny little arms and dark skin make finding a good vein difficult but we were blessed that it went smoothly this time. It was difficult to get the IV dripping at first, but with the girls’ continued efforts it began running. Hopefully she’ll be feeling better soon; the saline in the IV should stop the vicious cycle of dehydration that causes her to continue to lose fluids while simultaneously keeping her from being able to absorb them.
That’s all for now. My heart has been alive today, not for anything I have done, but for what I have seen. I have hardly even been needed (my knowledge does not extend to the medical realm at all; I do what I can behind the scenes), but I have been able to observe. Observe need. Observe giving. Observe knowledge and love in action. Observe tender hearts, willing minds and strong hands. Observe selflessness in the knowledge that one may not be in an ideal situation, but one is simply needed and will rise to the meeting of that need. It’s beautiful.
It’s not necessarily pretty, but it is unbelievably beautiful.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Malaria, Rest, Rain, and Learning
August 12, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Courtney and I got to join in on the kind of day that the girls here take when they need a restful, staycation day in the midst of their busy lives. We made crepes again for breakfast, then grabbed some workout clothes, Mobied up the babies, and set out on a long, workout-ish walk. Trust me, carrying a baby and walking quickly on the Ugandan roads in the hot sun wears you out! We power-walked for about 45 minutes (minus the vigorous arm-swinging; we left that to the 1980’s workout pros) before stopping at a small hotel overlooking the Nile from across the road to buy some water. We sat in their little patio and rested for a while, played with the babies, chugged our water, and generally cooled down from our walk. We traversed back, Courtney and I Mobied to E. and A.R. respectively, and Christina, Mandie and Kate taking turns with M. since she’s heavier than the babies. The girls live near a tourist hotel and once we got home, we grabbed some protein bars for lunch, put the little babies down for their naps, got M. into her bathing suit, and headed to the hotel’s pool for some sun and splashing. We got to stay there for a few hours; watching M. (complete with floaties and water toys) play with Courtney in the pool was so fun. It seemed to make her so joyful. It was such a blessing to me to be able to just sit there and rest, let alone the other girls who have been here for so much longer than I have.
In the late afternoon, the three little girls and us five big girls and headed via boda to the Bujagali Falls on the Nile. I had my first less-than-fabulous boda experience then; our driver was snippy, a little too excited to have Mandie and I as passengers on his boda, and characteristically inattentive to Mandie’s repeatedly-shouted instructions to wait for the other two bodas. We weren’t in any kind of danger, but it was very annoying with a healthy dose of humorous thrown as well.
The falls (once we finally got there and re-argued the price of the transportation with said annoying boda driver) were stunning. They are not tall like you’d normally think of “falls,” more like very big, very intense rapids. When we walked down the big hill to the falls themselves, we were able to walk right to the edge of the river. It was unbelievable. So vast. So unbelievably powerful. To stand on its edge, see it stretching out before you, and feel the rush of the water three feet away through vibrating through the ground is awesome and overwhelming. That amount of power is frightening in its very majesty.
We took pictures, especially of the babies, for quite a while there on the bank of the river and then I went and sat for a few moments alone on one of the rocks that dotted the waterline. I tried to take in whole scene: the intense green of the grass and red of the earth, the clarity and deep rush of the water, the thundering sound of the rapids, the immensity of the vast bowl of the blue sky stretched above me, but I couldn’t. I think I would have had to stay there for a long time to let it soak in. I wish I could go back, toting my notebook with me. There were so many things I wanted to write even as I sat there for a few minutes.
We stopped at one of the nice/American-y/place-where-tourists-go restaurants, called “2 Friends” for dinner on the way home; we had planned specifically to have a nice meal tonight as part of our stayation-y day. After passing the security guard at the entrance and being scanned (for bombs or knives, I suppose?), we were ushered into a beautiful enclosure of pavilioned tables surrounded by illuminated palm trees and connected by little winding paths. It was a strange sensation to step into this place when outside I had just passed the mounds of smoldering garbage and seen the huge trash-eating cranes stalking along the roof line of an abandoned house. I can only imagine that having this little oasis here is a blessing to Mandie and the other girls who live here. The food was a little more expensive and took a little longer than other places we’ve eaten, but that was because it was made fresh for us, from scratch, the service was attentive, and the surroundings were beautiful. It was a rest to my soul to be in that beautiful place, let alone the girls who have been here for so much longer.
Our evening was quite, a good ending to our relaxing day.
August 13, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today began early and with a bang with news of Rachel’s engagement back home in America. We all sat in the living room, reading things from her, skyping with her and Justin, looking at pictures of her ring and generally rejoicing from afar. A lovely way to start the morning.
After breakfast, we saddled everyone up and headed to town to get M.’s hair done. All the walking has meant that I am getting to know my way around Jinja relatively well, enough to know how to give a boda driver directions back to Mandie’s house if I get stranded somewhere. M. was not at all inclined to agree to her new hair-do, so that ended in disaster, mostly for Christina, M. and the guy trying to do the twisting of the hair. After Christina decided it wasn’t worth the pain (physically for M, and emotionally for her), we all trooped down the street to a little coffee shop where we fed the babies, got some snacks and talked over the hair debacle, our plans for the day and people (usually tourists) who, with rather abrupt rudeness, prod the girls with questions, assuming they have stolen the babies.
After our little lunch, we boda-ed home and put the babies down for much-needed naps. We took the chance of having the little ones asleep to go back to town to get a little bit of shopping done. Our boda ride there was one of the most humorous so far. Since Courtney had E. and Kate had a big backpack, Mandie, Christina and I all rode one boda. I sat on the back, not the middle, for the first time and it is QUITE different. Much more “keep-your-balance-by-engaging-your-abs-and-leaning-forward-as-hard-as-you-can-and-keep-your-tailbone-in-one-piece-when-going-over-bumps” than is the middle. However, as four people on one boda is a little squishy, Christina had the real winner when our driver literally sat on her. As in, ON her. We laughed the entire way into town. After some shopping and picking up some food at the supermarket (which to American eyes would seem more like a gas station shop in the Middle of Nowhere, USA) we caught bodas home. This time, I was on the back again, balancing a dozen eggs and some other groceries in my bag and trying not to pull on Courtney who was holding a sick and sleeping E. in the middle. I was glad I’d had the practice of the ride into town before this experience.
Later in the afternoon, Kate ran out and got rolex for us for dinner, which is something similar to a breakfast burrito: a patty of fried egg wrapped in a thick tortilla-like wrap called a chapatti. Hit that up with some freshly-chopped avocado and some salt, and it was delicious! I did not expect to have such good food on this trip. I mean, I wasn’t expecting nasty food, but I was definitely not prepared to love as many things as I’ve had.
We had a quiet evening, more or less. Little E is sick so the girls tested her for malaria with a kit we had purchased in town. I was not able to help as I haven’t had the Hep-B vaccine and needed to stay away from blood. I was disappointed to simply have to sit and watch. Malaria, HIV, hepatitis, etc. are so common here (even in children), but I am not yet used to it. E is just so tiny. It hurts my heart to see this pain in her, and everywhere else, so prevalent.
I have been writing a lot in the last few days. As an introvert, I recharge by being alone, and in a house with five girls and three babies, it’s hard to find that, so I’m feeling a little stretched. I can, of course, deal with it (for lack of a better term) as long as I need to, but it has been interesting for me to see how this aspect of my personality is activated here. The writing has been my way of recharging, for now. Concentrating my mind on recording the events of the day and the things that I am thinking or simply letting words flow onto the page helps me settle, process, and renew. I am beginning to understand, just a little bit, the strain of living here. It wears on you, little by little, and although I’m sure there is an adjustment curve, I know it does not ever get easy. My admiration for Mandie, Rachel, Christina and everyone else that lives here grows every day. Whether or not I feel God leading me to act out my faith and convictions in this particular way, I am so grateful to have had even a taste of this way of living out love. It is definitely something that takes a strength that is beyond human-creation. If n these 10 days, God is this good to me, I can only imagine the deep reservoirs of love, strength and care he has for those he has living here.
Jinja, Uganda
Courtney and I got to join in on the kind of day that the girls here take when they need a restful, staycation day in the midst of their busy lives. We made crepes again for breakfast, then grabbed some workout clothes, Mobied up the babies, and set out on a long, workout-ish walk. Trust me, carrying a baby and walking quickly on the Ugandan roads in the hot sun wears you out! We power-walked for about 45 minutes (minus the vigorous arm-swinging; we left that to the 1980’s workout pros) before stopping at a small hotel overlooking the Nile from across the road to buy some water. We sat in their little patio and rested for a while, played with the babies, chugged our water, and generally cooled down from our walk. We traversed back, Courtney and I Mobied to E. and A.R. respectively, and Christina, Mandie and Kate taking turns with M. since she’s heavier than the babies. The girls live near a tourist hotel and once we got home, we grabbed some protein bars for lunch, put the little babies down for their naps, got M. into her bathing suit, and headed to the hotel’s pool for some sun and splashing. We got to stay there for a few hours; watching M. (complete with floaties and water toys) play with Courtney in the pool was so fun. It seemed to make her so joyful. It was such a blessing to me to be able to just sit there and rest, let alone the other girls who have been here for so much longer than I have.
In the late afternoon, the three little girls and us five big girls and headed via boda to the Bujagali Falls on the Nile. I had my first less-than-fabulous boda experience then; our driver was snippy, a little too excited to have Mandie and I as passengers on his boda, and characteristically inattentive to Mandie’s repeatedly-shouted instructions to wait for the other two bodas. We weren’t in any kind of danger, but it was very annoying with a healthy dose of humorous thrown as well.
The falls (once we finally got there and re-argued the price of the transportation with said annoying boda driver) were stunning. They are not tall like you’d normally think of “falls,” more like very big, very intense rapids. When we walked down the big hill to the falls themselves, we were able to walk right to the edge of the river. It was unbelievable. So vast. So unbelievably powerful. To stand on its edge, see it stretching out before you, and feel the rush of the water three feet away through vibrating through the ground is awesome and overwhelming. That amount of power is frightening in its very majesty.
We took pictures, especially of the babies, for quite a while there on the bank of the river and then I went and sat for a few moments alone on one of the rocks that dotted the waterline. I tried to take in whole scene: the intense green of the grass and red of the earth, the clarity and deep rush of the water, the thundering sound of the rapids, the immensity of the vast bowl of the blue sky stretched above me, but I couldn’t. I think I would have had to stay there for a long time to let it soak in. I wish I could go back, toting my notebook with me. There were so many things I wanted to write even as I sat there for a few minutes.
We stopped at one of the nice/American-y/place-where-tourists-go restaurants, called “2 Friends” for dinner on the way home; we had planned specifically to have a nice meal tonight as part of our stayation-y day. After passing the security guard at the entrance and being scanned (for bombs or knives, I suppose?), we were ushered into a beautiful enclosure of pavilioned tables surrounded by illuminated palm trees and connected by little winding paths. It was a strange sensation to step into this place when outside I had just passed the mounds of smoldering garbage and seen the huge trash-eating cranes stalking along the roof line of an abandoned house. I can only imagine that having this little oasis here is a blessing to Mandie and the other girls who live here. The food was a little more expensive and took a little longer than other places we’ve eaten, but that was because it was made fresh for us, from scratch, the service was attentive, and the surroundings were beautiful. It was a rest to my soul to be in that beautiful place, let alone the girls who have been here for so much longer.
Our evening was quite, a good ending to our relaxing day.
August 13, 2011
Jinja, Uganda
Today began early and with a bang with news of Rachel’s engagement back home in America. We all sat in the living room, reading things from her, skyping with her and Justin, looking at pictures of her ring and generally rejoicing from afar. A lovely way to start the morning.
After breakfast, we saddled everyone up and headed to town to get M.’s hair done. All the walking has meant that I am getting to know my way around Jinja relatively well, enough to know how to give a boda driver directions back to Mandie’s house if I get stranded somewhere. M. was not at all inclined to agree to her new hair-do, so that ended in disaster, mostly for Christina, M. and the guy trying to do the twisting of the hair. After Christina decided it wasn’t worth the pain (physically for M, and emotionally for her), we all trooped down the street to a little coffee shop where we fed the babies, got some snacks and talked over the hair debacle, our plans for the day and people (usually tourists) who, with rather abrupt rudeness, prod the girls with questions, assuming they have stolen the babies.
After our little lunch, we boda-ed home and put the babies down for much-needed naps. We took the chance of having the little ones asleep to go back to town to get a little bit of shopping done. Our boda ride there was one of the most humorous so far. Since Courtney had E. and Kate had a big backpack, Mandie, Christina and I all rode one boda. I sat on the back, not the middle, for the first time and it is QUITE different. Much more “keep-your-balance-by-engaging-your-abs-and-leaning-forward-as-hard-as-you-can-and-keep-your-tailbone-in-one-piece-when-going-over-bumps” than is the middle. However, as four people on one boda is a little squishy, Christina had the real winner when our driver literally sat on her. As in, ON her. We laughed the entire way into town. After some shopping and picking up some food at the supermarket (which to American eyes would seem more like a gas station shop in the Middle of Nowhere, USA) we caught bodas home. This time, I was on the back again, balancing a dozen eggs and some other groceries in my bag and trying not to pull on Courtney who was holding a sick and sleeping E. in the middle. I was glad I’d had the practice of the ride into town before this experience.
Later in the afternoon, Kate ran out and got rolex for us for dinner, which is something similar to a breakfast burrito: a patty of fried egg wrapped in a thick tortilla-like wrap called a chapatti. Hit that up with some freshly-chopped avocado and some salt, and it was delicious! I did not expect to have such good food on this trip. I mean, I wasn’t expecting nasty food, but I was definitely not prepared to love as many things as I’ve had.
We had a quiet evening, more or less. Little E is sick so the girls tested her for malaria with a kit we had purchased in town. I was not able to help as I haven’t had the Hep-B vaccine and needed to stay away from blood. I was disappointed to simply have to sit and watch. Malaria, HIV, hepatitis, etc. are so common here (even in children), but I am not yet used to it. E is just so tiny. It hurts my heart to see this pain in her, and everywhere else, so prevalent.
I have been writing a lot in the last few days. As an introvert, I recharge by being alone, and in a house with five girls and three babies, it’s hard to find that, so I’m feeling a little stretched. I can, of course, deal with it (for lack of a better term) as long as I need to, but it has been interesting for me to see how this aspect of my personality is activated here. The writing has been my way of recharging, for now. Concentrating my mind on recording the events of the day and the things that I am thinking or simply letting words flow onto the page helps me settle, process, and renew. I am beginning to understand, just a little bit, the strain of living here. It wears on you, little by little, and although I’m sure there is an adjustment curve, I know it does not ever get easy. My admiration for Mandie, Rachel, Christina and everyone else that lives here grows every day. Whether or not I feel God leading me to act out my faith and convictions in this particular way, I am so grateful to have had even a taste of this way of living out love. It is definitely something that takes a strength that is beyond human-creation. If n these 10 days, God is this good to me, I can only imagine the deep reservoirs of love, strength and care he has for those he has living here.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Rain, naps, feeding tubes, and walking.
August 11, 2011
Because Christina was not with us this morning, and because we had no eggs, we did not have crepes for breakfast this morning. It was rather sad; but we stocked up on eggs this afternoon so the yummy French dish is back on the menu for tomorrow morning.
As it’s the rainy season, it rained all night and was sprinkling off and on all day today, making the air so cool and clear. When I stand at the doorway and look out into the courtyard, I can hear the raindrops hitting the stone and the birds singing, very faintly, and little breezes that run through the leaves of the banana trees that dot the ground outside the wall surrounding the house.
We took the babies, A.R. and E., to get their first haircuts today. Well, head-shaves more than haircuts. We Mobi-ed up and walked into Jinja along the red-muddy roads with passing boda drivers and other chatting people. I had the chance to carry E. today; she was so cuddly today and so alert and interested in what was going on. Both babies were very good for their haircuts and seemed to like having their hoods pulled up to keep their little heads protected from the drizzle. After the beauty shop (where all the stylists were male, which I thought was an interesting change from normalcy in the US), we walked down the street to a little coffee shop. We had hot chocolate, bottled water, French fries for M., and a pot of tea (for me, of course) on the little placemat-covered tables between the couches. We grabbed bodas for the ride home. Courtney and I, each Mobied to a baby, rode one boda together. We felt thou thoroughly boda-and-baby-proficient.
We had lunch at home and then waited for the rain to stop so we could head out to Ekisa, an orphanage for kids under five with special needs. Courtney and I both took good naps after lunch, which for both of is very uncharacteristic. It was awesome; I have SO been missing out for the past 21 years. We made the 30 minute walk to Ekisa and it was wonderful to see the kids there. As soon as we opened the gate, the ones who were playing outside jumped up with huge smiles on their faces and lunged at us for hugs and hand-shakes. They are so loving and genuine. One of the little girls there had recently had a feeding tube put in, and when we saw her, Mandie and Courtney realized the dressing needed desperately to be changed. We grabbed gloves, gauze, saline, alcohol swabs and tape and I assisted Mandie in a dressing change on a porch in Africa, in my sock feet (because we had to take off our shoes when entering the house), surrounded by preciously-noisy special needs children and nosy pet dogs, for a six year old that was the size, if not the length, of a 1 year old.
We hailed bodas for the ride back. Happily, a little while after we got home, the power came back on, which is a blessing. We weren’t sure when (or if) it would come back in the near future. Dinner tonight is matoke and g-nut sauce, a high-protein, super filling dish of savory mashed bananas with a sauce made of peanuts. We added in cut up avocado for more nutrition and variety. It was interesting. Not bad, but just different.
We had another jam session tonight after dinner. Christina bought a drum for M. and she added in an entirely new level of awesomeness to our music-making this evening. Corresponding, blogging, and technology communication are the order of the evening after this long but quiet African day.
Because Christina was not with us this morning, and because we had no eggs, we did not have crepes for breakfast this morning. It was rather sad; but we stocked up on eggs this afternoon so the yummy French dish is back on the menu for tomorrow morning.
As it’s the rainy season, it rained all night and was sprinkling off and on all day today, making the air so cool and clear. When I stand at the doorway and look out into the courtyard, I can hear the raindrops hitting the stone and the birds singing, very faintly, and little breezes that run through the leaves of the banana trees that dot the ground outside the wall surrounding the house.
We took the babies, A.R. and E., to get their first haircuts today. Well, head-shaves more than haircuts. We Mobi-ed up and walked into Jinja along the red-muddy roads with passing boda drivers and other chatting people. I had the chance to carry E. today; she was so cuddly today and so alert and interested in what was going on. Both babies were very good for their haircuts and seemed to like having their hoods pulled up to keep their little heads protected from the drizzle. After the beauty shop (where all the stylists were male, which I thought was an interesting change from normalcy in the US), we walked down the street to a little coffee shop. We had hot chocolate, bottled water, French fries for M., and a pot of tea (for me, of course) on the little placemat-covered tables between the couches. We grabbed bodas for the ride home. Courtney and I, each Mobied to a baby, rode one boda together. We felt thou thoroughly boda-and-baby-proficient.
We had lunch at home and then waited for the rain to stop so we could head out to Ekisa, an orphanage for kids under five with special needs. Courtney and I both took good naps after lunch, which for both of is very uncharacteristic. It was awesome; I have SO been missing out for the past 21 years. We made the 30 minute walk to Ekisa and it was wonderful to see the kids there. As soon as we opened the gate, the ones who were playing outside jumped up with huge smiles on their faces and lunged at us for hugs and hand-shakes. They are so loving and genuine. One of the little girls there had recently had a feeding tube put in, and when we saw her, Mandie and Courtney realized the dressing needed desperately to be changed. We grabbed gloves, gauze, saline, alcohol swabs and tape and I assisted Mandie in a dressing change on a porch in Africa, in my sock feet (because we had to take off our shoes when entering the house), surrounded by preciously-noisy special needs children and nosy pet dogs, for a six year old that was the size, if not the length, of a 1 year old.
We hailed bodas for the ride back. Happily, a little while after we got home, the power came back on, which is a blessing. We weren’t sure when (or if) it would come back in the near future. Dinner tonight is matoke and g-nut sauce, a high-protein, super filling dish of savory mashed bananas with a sauce made of peanuts. We added in cut up avocado for more nutrition and variety. It was interesting. Not bad, but just different.
We had another jam session tonight after dinner. Christina bought a drum for M. and she added in an entirely new level of awesomeness to our music-making this evening. Corresponding, blogging, and technology communication are the order of the evening after this long but quiet African day.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Mobis, bodas, babies and friends
August 10, 2011
Jinja, Uganda, Africa; Mandie’s House
A good night’s sleep does wonders (and I mean WONDERS) after a 30 hour day of travel. Last night was chill, filled with babies, singing, dinner which consisted of rice, beans and avocado, and unpacking. I stayed up until 9:30 because I didn’t feel sleepy (running on adrenalin, according to Mandie) but as soon as I laid down, I was out. And when I say out, I mean OUT. O. U. T. I didn’t hear the babies, I didn’t hear Mandie get in bed, I didn’t hear the other girl staying in our room, Sarah, come home from Bible study, nothing. I felt so much better this morning although the only way to describe my brain is that of an intense feeling of fuzziness. Just a leeetle bit off. But either a nap (which I, sadly, am not prone to) or one more good sleep will, I’m sure, get rid of that fuzziness pronto.
We made crepes for breakfast this morning, which were delicious. I usually have yogurt or oatmeal for breakfast so crepes in Uganda was quite the treat. This house is FULL of baby sounds and baby stuff and little fruit flies and laughter and singing and books and our unwelcomed friend Gus, the rat, who we are currently trying to lure out of Sarah’s room and onto a board covered in glue and cheese. We think that will get him the message that he is not wanted here.
After breakfast Courtney, Mandie, Christina, Memae, A.R. and E. and I all took a walk. I got Mobi-ed up for the first time and carried A.R. the entire trip which was a treat for me. This may not be as much of a treat by the conclusion on my trip, but at this point, it is fun. She’s so cuddly. Whoever invented Mobis is a genius. As this is the rainy season, everything is green here, flowers are pouring over sides of walls, and there’s grass and leaves and verdure everywhere. It could almost be called lush except for the fact that all this is set against the backdrop of the red clay and dust that coats the roads and the ground. As we walked along, I kept getting a whiff of something burning, which was like Christmas at first but then under that first scent was a more acrid one which I only identified as burning garbage when we passed a smoldering heap of it. This whole trip is a lesson in the unexpected, even if it’s something as simple as azure-blue flowers falling onto deep red earth, or a scent that reminds you of Christmas that is actually incinerating trash.
We walked for almost an hour, up hills, around corners, past homes and offices that ranged from being built of cardboard to walled-in with some landscaping and greenery around them, and into Jinja. We were all hot, sweaty and tired by the time we got there, so I got to have another first of the trip: my first boda ride. Bodas are motorcycle taxis, and they are everywhere and they weave in and out of everything that may possibly be happening on or next to the streets and they are awesome. They dropped us for lunch at a cool restaurant whose shade and couch-y things were a nice break after our walk. We ordered lunch then Mandie, Courtney and I (each still Mobi-ed up) climbed up the stairwell of the apartment building nextdoor to its roof to take in the view of the Nile. It was beautiful; again, as it’s the rainy season, the places that are green are vividly green and they contrast sharply with the red of the earth and the brown the city. The river, however, glowed a bright, light blue. The colors here seem very intense, maybe because I’m so used the heat-blighted-ness of sunny S.C… Lunch was a delish affair of Cokes, water, onion rings (amazing), fries, beef gyros, veggies, mango smoothies and chatting.
On Mandie’s agenda today was a trip to an orphanage to pick up some of the children being adopted to bring them back here to skype with their families. In interests of safety and convenience, we boda-ed back to Mandie’s house to dropped off the babies, then hailed a new set off bodas and headed out on the 30 minute ride to the orphanage. Mandie and I rode on one together, which was the first time we’d gotten to spend as just the two of us and we got to talk for while which was so nice. We talked about life, and Jesus, and change, and growth, and decisions and Uganda. By that time we had arrived and picked up the kids and set out toward home, 3 passengers on each boda, minus the driver. It’s actually quite comfortable. Only a few hiccups on this ride, a couple neck-jarring brakings, a few closer-than-comfortable passes with other vehicles, and one “you’re-not-listening-to-me-you-have-to-be-in-front-because-they-don’t-know-where-they’re-going-and-look-now-they’ve-missed-the-turn-and-are-going-to-be-lost!” moment between Mandie and our boda driver.
While we waited for it to become a decent skype-able time in America, we played around in the courtyard with a big bucket of water, some water guns and balloons. Well, I didn’t actually play, I’m sitting here and writing, but everyone else played. We got “ice cream” (which is really more like Italian ice) from the ice cream-boda man who’s the-ice cream-man-is-here song is “My Heart Will Go On.” Implying the ice cream is worth following to the ends of the earth? I’m not sure… The kids are skyping now though, and it’s beautiful to see two sets of faces, one here and the other thousands of miles away, wreathed in smiles. Literally. Joy like pours into and out of the computer screen.
I’m not sure what’s happening this evening. Taking the kids back to the orphanage, I know, and also food (of course). But we ARE celebrating a wonderful anniversary tonight: today marks the one-year anniversary of Mandie’s arrival in Uganda! The amazing things that God has done in that time are staggering and unexpected and so unbelievably beautiful. I, who am least of all those involved, am in awe. I’m so lucky to be seeing even a little bit firsthand.
Jinja, Uganda, Africa; Mandie’s House
A good night’s sleep does wonders (and I mean WONDERS) after a 30 hour day of travel. Last night was chill, filled with babies, singing, dinner which consisted of rice, beans and avocado, and unpacking. I stayed up until 9:30 because I didn’t feel sleepy (running on adrenalin, according to Mandie) but as soon as I laid down, I was out. And when I say out, I mean OUT. O. U. T. I didn’t hear the babies, I didn’t hear Mandie get in bed, I didn’t hear the other girl staying in our room, Sarah, come home from Bible study, nothing. I felt so much better this morning although the only way to describe my brain is that of an intense feeling of fuzziness. Just a leeetle bit off. But either a nap (which I, sadly, am not prone to) or one more good sleep will, I’m sure, get rid of that fuzziness pronto.
We made crepes for breakfast this morning, which were delicious. I usually have yogurt or oatmeal for breakfast so crepes in Uganda was quite the treat. This house is FULL of baby sounds and baby stuff and little fruit flies and laughter and singing and books and our unwelcomed friend Gus, the rat, who we are currently trying to lure out of Sarah’s room and onto a board covered in glue and cheese. We think that will get him the message that he is not wanted here.
After breakfast Courtney, Mandie, Christina, Memae, A.R. and E. and I all took a walk. I got Mobi-ed up for the first time and carried A.R. the entire trip which was a treat for me. This may not be as much of a treat by the conclusion on my trip, but at this point, it is fun. She’s so cuddly. Whoever invented Mobis is a genius. As this is the rainy season, everything is green here, flowers are pouring over sides of walls, and there’s grass and leaves and verdure everywhere. It could almost be called lush except for the fact that all this is set against the backdrop of the red clay and dust that coats the roads and the ground. As we walked along, I kept getting a whiff of something burning, which was like Christmas at first but then under that first scent was a more acrid one which I only identified as burning garbage when we passed a smoldering heap of it. This whole trip is a lesson in the unexpected, even if it’s something as simple as azure-blue flowers falling onto deep red earth, or a scent that reminds you of Christmas that is actually incinerating trash.
We walked for almost an hour, up hills, around corners, past homes and offices that ranged from being built of cardboard to walled-in with some landscaping and greenery around them, and into Jinja. We were all hot, sweaty and tired by the time we got there, so I got to have another first of the trip: my first boda ride. Bodas are motorcycle taxis, and they are everywhere and they weave in and out of everything that may possibly be happening on or next to the streets and they are awesome. They dropped us for lunch at a cool restaurant whose shade and couch-y things were a nice break after our walk. We ordered lunch then Mandie, Courtney and I (each still Mobi-ed up) climbed up the stairwell of the apartment building nextdoor to its roof to take in the view of the Nile. It was beautiful; again, as it’s the rainy season, the places that are green are vividly green and they contrast sharply with the red of the earth and the brown the city. The river, however, glowed a bright, light blue. The colors here seem very intense, maybe because I’m so used the heat-blighted-ness of sunny S.C… Lunch was a delish affair of Cokes, water, onion rings (amazing), fries, beef gyros, veggies, mango smoothies and chatting.
On Mandie’s agenda today was a trip to an orphanage to pick up some of the children being adopted to bring them back here to skype with their families. In interests of safety and convenience, we boda-ed back to Mandie’s house to dropped off the babies, then hailed a new set off bodas and headed out on the 30 minute ride to the orphanage. Mandie and I rode on one together, which was the first time we’d gotten to spend as just the two of us and we got to talk for while which was so nice. We talked about life, and Jesus, and change, and growth, and decisions and Uganda. By that time we had arrived and picked up the kids and set out toward home, 3 passengers on each boda, minus the driver. It’s actually quite comfortable. Only a few hiccups on this ride, a couple neck-jarring brakings, a few closer-than-comfortable passes with other vehicles, and one “you’re-not-listening-to-me-you-have-to-be-in-front-because-they-don’t-know-where-they’re-going-and-look-now-they’ve-missed-the-turn-and-are-going-to-be-lost!” moment between Mandie and our boda driver.
While we waited for it to become a decent skype-able time in America, we played around in the courtyard with a big bucket of water, some water guns and balloons. Well, I didn’t actually play, I’m sitting here and writing, but everyone else played. We got “ice cream” (which is really more like Italian ice) from the ice cream-boda man who’s the-ice cream-man-is-here song is “My Heart Will Go On.” Implying the ice cream is worth following to the ends of the earth? I’m not sure… The kids are skyping now though, and it’s beautiful to see two sets of faces, one here and the other thousands of miles away, wreathed in smiles. Literally. Joy like pours into and out of the computer screen.
I’m not sure what’s happening this evening. Taking the kids back to the orphanage, I know, and also food (of course). But we ARE celebrating a wonderful anniversary tonight: today marks the one-year anniversary of Mandie’s arrival in Uganda! The amazing things that God has done in that time are staggering and unexpected and so unbelievably beautiful. I, who am least of all those involved, am in awe. I’m so lucky to be seeing even a little bit firsthand.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
And now...to Africa!
12:14pm Monday August 8, 2011
Somewhere off the coast America…well, maybe a good chunk over the ocean by now…
It’s hard for me to believe that I am in the air for second international trip in two months. I am so unbelievably lucky to have traveled as much as I have in my life, let alone hit up both Ireland and Africa in one summer.
Minus a small hiccough around 9:00 last night when we got a notification that our 5:50 am flight had been mysteriously cancelled which caused 45 minutes of flurrying to get us rerouted, our travels today have gone completely smoothly. Even my alarm going off at 3:30am wasn’t unbearable as I woke up in my parents’ house with our cat purring away on my chest. There are worse ways to start an adventure such as this…
Once we got to Washington where we had a little extra time on our layover and after standing in our Ethiopian Airlines check-in line for multiple multiplications of 5 minute chunks (we kept ourselves busy with a discussion of which Disney character we wanted to be today, which Disney movie was the best, and our favorite fast-food restaurants), Courtney and I made a beeline for a breakfast sandwich place we had passed in their airport and feasted sumptuously on sausage/bacon, egg and cheese paninis. They were delicious.
We boarded our plane and got underway with no issues and perfectly on time. The 777 we’re on is so wide and high-ceilinged and white-toned that it feels like a classroom, not a tube filled with humans hurtling through the sky, and now, writing on my laptop, I feel like I could easily be taking notes in school, albeit in a rather cramped (but uncommonly plushy) seat. Courtney was able to switch seats so now we’re sitting together on this mammoth 13 hour flight, which is a blessing. We’ve been laughing a lot, she’s been listening as I tell her about my analytical discoveries in e. e. cummings’ works, and I’ve been cheering her on in her plane-wide computerized Sudoku tournament. At this point, she’s 12th on the plane (impressive) beaten out only by 39H and 22H. I’ll continue rooting for 22F though. I have great faith she’ll make it to #1 in the next nine hours or so. Then we’ll celebrate (probably by sharing one of the mini bottles of wine and trying to sleep. We’re party animals, obviously).
11:46pm my time, or 6:46 am Africa time; Six hours later….
The sun is rising over western Africa. I can barely see out of the window across the aisle from me but I can make out the sky glowing bright orange, fading gradually to blue then violet as my eye moves upward over the tip of the airplane’s wing. According to my map of our flight, we are somewhere over Jeddah, having traveled 6595 miles in the last eleven hours from Washington D.C.
I am interested to see the airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Although I’ve traveled many places in my life, a country that is essentially different in its prosperity level from mine is not something that has crossed my path before. Ireland is a far cry from Africa. It’s a huge blessing to have Courtney here on this trip with me. It’s been very smooth so far, but navigating the return journey alone will be easier having done it once with someone. I can’t believe that I’ll be in Africa and seeing Mandie and the babies in a few (or more than a few, but who’s counting?) hours. Years and years ago, when I was probably eight or nine, I remember laying in my bed trying to fall asleep when I heard resoundingly in my head the word, “Africa!” This was at the point where I thought that in order to be a “good Christian” one had to be a missionary to Africa, and I didn’t think I wanted to be a missionary to Africa, and was terrified that I would “have” to. I was petrified when I heard that word, “Africa!” resounding in my head. But now I’m not. I know God uses and flows through us in any place and through each of our individual stories, whether it be in America, or Africa, or Cuba, or Haiti or Canada. Not all are called to serve our Father and others in a different country. I, for one, think I may be used as locally as my neighbors or someone in my community, but that does not mean I can’t be in other places. Although all those years ago, I was scared God was “calling” me to go to Africa, today I believe He just might have been telling me that I should get used to the fact that I’d be going someday. I’m not even sure I’m going to be “used” or to do something (which sounds so altruistic and admirable, which it is) for others. I think it’s much more likely that God is taking me there to give me something; it’s not necessarily a trip where I could feel “better” about myself for “doing good,” but instead, God will be giving to me when I thought the only reason I could go to Africa was to serve. He has a funny way of turning our preconceived notions on their heads and surprising us with new ways of thinking and unexpected outcomes to things for which we assumed we knew the plan…
I have no idea what the next ten days hold for me or Mandie or Courtney or anyone else I will encounter, child or adult. But I’m willing to see and adapt. I’m learning how to let go of my plans, be spontaneous if you will. However, spontaneity with God overlooking my lack-of-plan is much more restful than simply living with no direction or plan whatsoever. I don’t necessarily know what my next step or next decision or next experience will be, but even while I am letting go of that control, I know that somehow, someone does know what my tomorrow holds. Someone knows the decisions I make before I make them, but at the same time still allows me to make each selection as I so choose in His gift of free will. What a strange paradox, that of personal, un-pre-planned choice versus a foreknowledge by someone of those choices (although “versus” sounds rather adversarial and I don’t mean it to; I think the two can coexist perfectly). Put simply, I believe I get to make the choices in my life that steer my course from place to place, but that God simply knows those choices even before I do. In this knowledge, he has not violated the freewill he gave me. Instead in his intimate and infinite knowledge of me and this world, he simply knows the choice I will make. Simple as that.
So here’s to something old, in that I heard the pre-echo of this trip some thirteen years ago; and to some new, in that I am excitedly venturing far into a part of my Self that I did not know existed. It will be an adventure.
And by the way, Ethiopian Airlines is the BEST simply because 1) they have Carlsberg, which is my favorite beer, but 2) [and most importantly] the serve steaming hot, and super strong black tea after each meal.
These thirteen hours flew by. I’m almost to Africa.
We are safely in Mandie’s house at Jinja! After buying our visas and getting our bags, we met up with Mandie easily. It was SO good to see her. She had one of the babies, A.R., with her and after our first meeting, I got to cuddle her for a long time. She’s such a snuggle monkey We ran some errands and picked up two of the other girls who live with Mandie and made the 2 hour drive back here to Jinja. Our plan is to have dinner and chill out this evening, no big plans. I’ll continue to write (more interestingly than this last paragraph I dearly hope) tomorrow or later tonight. This is and will continue to be an adventure, and I’m loving it.
Somewhere off the coast America…well, maybe a good chunk over the ocean by now…
It’s hard for me to believe that I am in the air for second international trip in two months. I am so unbelievably lucky to have traveled as much as I have in my life, let alone hit up both Ireland and Africa in one summer.
Minus a small hiccough around 9:00 last night when we got a notification that our 5:50 am flight had been mysteriously cancelled which caused 45 minutes of flurrying to get us rerouted, our travels today have gone completely smoothly. Even my alarm going off at 3:30am wasn’t unbearable as I woke up in my parents’ house with our cat purring away on my chest. There are worse ways to start an adventure such as this…
Once we got to Washington where we had a little extra time on our layover and after standing in our Ethiopian Airlines check-in line for multiple multiplications of 5 minute chunks (we kept ourselves busy with a discussion of which Disney character we wanted to be today, which Disney movie was the best, and our favorite fast-food restaurants), Courtney and I made a beeline for a breakfast sandwich place we had passed in their airport and feasted sumptuously on sausage/bacon, egg and cheese paninis. They were delicious.
We boarded our plane and got underway with no issues and perfectly on time. The 777 we’re on is so wide and high-ceilinged and white-toned that it feels like a classroom, not a tube filled with humans hurtling through the sky, and now, writing on my laptop, I feel like I could easily be taking notes in school, albeit in a rather cramped (but uncommonly plushy) seat. Courtney was able to switch seats so now we’re sitting together on this mammoth 13 hour flight, which is a blessing. We’ve been laughing a lot, she’s been listening as I tell her about my analytical discoveries in e. e. cummings’ works, and I’ve been cheering her on in her plane-wide computerized Sudoku tournament. At this point, she’s 12th on the plane (impressive) beaten out only by 39H and 22H. I’ll continue rooting for 22F though. I have great faith she’ll make it to #1 in the next nine hours or so. Then we’ll celebrate (probably by sharing one of the mini bottles of wine and trying to sleep. We’re party animals, obviously).
11:46pm my time, or 6:46 am Africa time; Six hours later….
The sun is rising over western Africa. I can barely see out of the window across the aisle from me but I can make out the sky glowing bright orange, fading gradually to blue then violet as my eye moves upward over the tip of the airplane’s wing. According to my map of our flight, we are somewhere over Jeddah, having traveled 6595 miles in the last eleven hours from Washington D.C.
I am interested to see the airport at Addis Ababa in Ethiopia. Although I’ve traveled many places in my life, a country that is essentially different in its prosperity level from mine is not something that has crossed my path before. Ireland is a far cry from Africa. It’s a huge blessing to have Courtney here on this trip with me. It’s been very smooth so far, but navigating the return journey alone will be easier having done it once with someone. I can’t believe that I’ll be in Africa and seeing Mandie and the babies in a few (or more than a few, but who’s counting?) hours. Years and years ago, when I was probably eight or nine, I remember laying in my bed trying to fall asleep when I heard resoundingly in my head the word, “Africa!” This was at the point where I thought that in order to be a “good Christian” one had to be a missionary to Africa, and I didn’t think I wanted to be a missionary to Africa, and was terrified that I would “have” to. I was petrified when I heard that word, “Africa!” resounding in my head. But now I’m not. I know God uses and flows through us in any place and through each of our individual stories, whether it be in America, or Africa, or Cuba, or Haiti or Canada. Not all are called to serve our Father and others in a different country. I, for one, think I may be used as locally as my neighbors or someone in my community, but that does not mean I can’t be in other places. Although all those years ago, I was scared God was “calling” me to go to Africa, today I believe He just might have been telling me that I should get used to the fact that I’d be going someday. I’m not even sure I’m going to be “used” or to do something (which sounds so altruistic and admirable, which it is) for others. I think it’s much more likely that God is taking me there to give me something; it’s not necessarily a trip where I could feel “better” about myself for “doing good,” but instead, God will be giving to me when I thought the only reason I could go to Africa was to serve. He has a funny way of turning our preconceived notions on their heads and surprising us with new ways of thinking and unexpected outcomes to things for which we assumed we knew the plan…
I have no idea what the next ten days hold for me or Mandie or Courtney or anyone else I will encounter, child or adult. But I’m willing to see and adapt. I’m learning how to let go of my plans, be spontaneous if you will. However, spontaneity with God overlooking my lack-of-plan is much more restful than simply living with no direction or plan whatsoever. I don’t necessarily know what my next step or next decision or next experience will be, but even while I am letting go of that control, I know that somehow, someone does know what my tomorrow holds. Someone knows the decisions I make before I make them, but at the same time still allows me to make each selection as I so choose in His gift of free will. What a strange paradox, that of personal, un-pre-planned choice versus a foreknowledge by someone of those choices (although “versus” sounds rather adversarial and I don’t mean it to; I think the two can coexist perfectly). Put simply, I believe I get to make the choices in my life that steer my course from place to place, but that God simply knows those choices even before I do. In this knowledge, he has not violated the freewill he gave me. Instead in his intimate and infinite knowledge of me and this world, he simply knows the choice I will make. Simple as that.
So here’s to something old, in that I heard the pre-echo of this trip some thirteen years ago; and to some new, in that I am excitedly venturing far into a part of my Self that I did not know existed. It will be an adventure.
And by the way, Ethiopian Airlines is the BEST simply because 1) they have Carlsberg, which is my favorite beer, but 2) [and most importantly] the serve steaming hot, and super strong black tea after each meal.
These thirteen hours flew by. I’m almost to Africa.
We are safely in Mandie’s house at Jinja! After buying our visas and getting our bags, we met up with Mandie easily. It was SO good to see her. She had one of the babies, A.R., with her and after our first meeting, I got to cuddle her for a long time. She’s such a snuggle monkey We ran some errands and picked up two of the other girls who live with Mandie and made the 2 hour drive back here to Jinja. Our plan is to have dinner and chill out this evening, no big plans. I’ll continue to write (more interestingly than this last paragraph I dearly hope) tomorrow or later tonight. This is and will continue to be an adventure, and I’m loving it.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The last days...
Saturday June 18, 2011
Free day here in Dublin. After having some blessed time to sleep in, most of our group met together to walk to the museum of modern art and then tour the Guinness factory. The museum was great, especially because they were featuring a Frieda Khalo and Diego Rivera exhibit which was really interesting. I took a few minutes for myself before meeting back up with the group and went to the gardens of the museum just to sit and look at them and the sky and to listen to my music. I didn’t need time away because I don’t like the other students though. I love all these people. Before we left for the trip, Dr. Kelly said that we’d all be best friends by the time we got home, and I didn’t really believe him, but it actually is true. I love them all. Once we met back up after the museum, we walked over to tour the Guinness factory (which just seemed so fitting after the amount we’d drunk of it these two weeks). We all met up for dinner and then Charles’ and Drew’s 22nd birthday celebration which lasted well into the night. Like I said before, we’re like family now.
Sunday June 19, 2011
Its our last day of doing stuff for the course and our last day here. We took the train to the little coastal town of Howth and climbed the big hill (which is really more like a small mountain rather than a hill) right on the edge of the land to the point where the Ulysses character, Molly Bloom, remembers her final soliloquy that closes the book. We sat there on the rocks that jutted out over the azure water and crashing waves and listened as Shannon read the final pages of the book as Molly is remembering when she and Leopold came to those hills when he proposed. The scenery here was some of the most beautiful I’ve seen. There were sweeping cliffs covered in heather and coarse greenery that swept down at a steep angle to the cliffs and the waves. Gulls were wheeling around and screeching their heads off; we even saw a seal playing in the water 80 feet down the cliffs. The weather was perfect today too: clear skies, sun alternating with over-casting clouds and a refreshing breeze that didn’t allow any of us to get too sweaty on our little hike. After we traversed the cliffwalk, we chilled at a pub for about an hour waiting for the bus back into Dublin and got tea, hot wings and, of course, pints. We hopped on the bus there in Howth and rode to the outskirts of Dublin to try to find a spot where a certain scene in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, called “The Bird Girl” scene, took place and in which Stephen (the main character) has a life-altering change of mind in a completely silent, spiritually-connected moment with a girl he accidentally comes upon in the water. It turned out to be substantially farther than we’d anticipated and some people had things that really needed to be finished before it became too late so we turned back. We all went out together for dinner at a Japanese restaurant called, awesomely, “Wagamama,” the same place we’d gone the first evening we arrived in Dublin. We had a wonderful time swapping our favorite memories of the trip and with Dr. Kelly quizzing us to identify snatches of the literature we had been studying. There was lots of laughter, teasing and memories flying around. These are my friends.
Monday June 20, 2011
Today is the end and that it unthinkable to me. I can’t believe we are already heading home – this trip has been one of the most fun, memorable things I have ever gotten to experience in my life and I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity. The places that I saw, the people I’ve met, the things I’ve learned, the things I’ve done (from climbing up 5000 year old monuments to discovering an appreciation of beer) and the questions I have been prompted to address while here have forever shaped me, some subtly and others not so subtly. Not only did I learn new things about a people and a culture and a literature that I knew nothing about, I learned new things about myself.
According to my flight map in the seat back in front of me, I have traveled 1565 miles toward home which puts me about half-way there. What a blessing that I both desperately want to stay here in Ireland and go home; to have so much good to multiple places is something I can never take for granted. And I never will.
“I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
The Lake Isle of Innisfree; W. B. Yeats
Free day here in Dublin. After having some blessed time to sleep in, most of our group met together to walk to the museum of modern art and then tour the Guinness factory. The museum was great, especially because they were featuring a Frieda Khalo and Diego Rivera exhibit which was really interesting. I took a few minutes for myself before meeting back up with the group and went to the gardens of the museum just to sit and look at them and the sky and to listen to my music. I didn’t need time away because I don’t like the other students though. I love all these people. Before we left for the trip, Dr. Kelly said that we’d all be best friends by the time we got home, and I didn’t really believe him, but it actually is true. I love them all. Once we met back up after the museum, we walked over to tour the Guinness factory (which just seemed so fitting after the amount we’d drunk of it these two weeks). We all met up for dinner and then Charles’ and Drew’s 22nd birthday celebration which lasted well into the night. Like I said before, we’re like family now.
Sunday June 19, 2011
Its our last day of doing stuff for the course and our last day here. We took the train to the little coastal town of Howth and climbed the big hill (which is really more like a small mountain rather than a hill) right on the edge of the land to the point where the Ulysses character, Molly Bloom, remembers her final soliloquy that closes the book. We sat there on the rocks that jutted out over the azure water and crashing waves and listened as Shannon read the final pages of the book as Molly is remembering when she and Leopold came to those hills when he proposed. The scenery here was some of the most beautiful I’ve seen. There were sweeping cliffs covered in heather and coarse greenery that swept down at a steep angle to the cliffs and the waves. Gulls were wheeling around and screeching their heads off; we even saw a seal playing in the water 80 feet down the cliffs. The weather was perfect today too: clear skies, sun alternating with over-casting clouds and a refreshing breeze that didn’t allow any of us to get too sweaty on our little hike. After we traversed the cliffwalk, we chilled at a pub for about an hour waiting for the bus back into Dublin and got tea, hot wings and, of course, pints. We hopped on the bus there in Howth and rode to the outskirts of Dublin to try to find a spot where a certain scene in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, called “The Bird Girl” scene, took place and in which Stephen (the main character) has a life-altering change of mind in a completely silent, spiritually-connected moment with a girl he accidentally comes upon in the water. It turned out to be substantially farther than we’d anticipated and some people had things that really needed to be finished before it became too late so we turned back. We all went out together for dinner at a Japanese restaurant called, awesomely, “Wagamama,” the same place we’d gone the first evening we arrived in Dublin. We had a wonderful time swapping our favorite memories of the trip and with Dr. Kelly quizzing us to identify snatches of the literature we had been studying. There was lots of laughter, teasing and memories flying around. These are my friends.
Monday June 20, 2011
Today is the end and that it unthinkable to me. I can’t believe we are already heading home – this trip has been one of the most fun, memorable things I have ever gotten to experience in my life and I am so grateful to have been given this opportunity. The places that I saw, the people I’ve met, the things I’ve learned, the things I’ve done (from climbing up 5000 year old monuments to discovering an appreciation of beer) and the questions I have been prompted to address while here have forever shaped me, some subtly and others not so subtly. Not only did I learn new things about a people and a culture and a literature that I knew nothing about, I learned new things about myself.
According to my flight map in the seat back in front of me, I have traveled 1565 miles toward home which puts me about half-way there. What a blessing that I both desperately want to stay here in Ireland and go home; to have so much good to multiple places is something I can never take for granted. And I never will.
“I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.”
The Lake Isle of Innisfree; W. B. Yeats
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Ireland days....I don't even know anymore.
Monday June 13, 2011
Today we left the west coast of Ireland and headed for Dublin. On the way, we stopped for a tour at Cruachan Ai, the possible location of Queen Medb and King Allil’s palace. These two figure in the Irish mythology that we studied in “The Tain,” the story about the cattle raid that Medb instigates when she realizes that because her husband possesses a fine bull and she does not, he surpasses her wealth. Medb was a warrior (as indeed were most Irish women) who fought alongside her husband and her own soldiers on the cattle raid. The place of women in Irish society is unlike anything I’ve ever heard about before; they seem remarkably “forward” or liberal, for lack of a better term. The women had all the rights belonging to a man, and she had control over her own lands, servants, family etc. But what impressed me the most was that the Irish had specific laws in place to protect children. They considered any sexual union that resulted in a child being born as a “marriage” in that the child was always considered to have both a father and a mother. By law, there was never a fatherless or motherless child (what we would term an illegitimate birth) in this society and there was always, by law, a caregiver for a child. The protection afforded the child, someone who never asked to be born and should be cared for just by right on being a human being really impressed me; it’s an idea we could learn from in our society.
After finishing inside the museum, we bussed over to some of the actual sights we had talked about. The most interesting by far was the cave considered to be an entrance to the faeries’ world. Six of us crawled down it, no easy task by the way, as it began as a small, muddy steep opening to wriggle through and continued as a rocky, again muddy, and very dark passage into the earth. It opened up to standing height and before about 15 feet down but we didn’t go much farther than 30 feet since it became very muddy and none of us had prepared for a small spelunking adventure.
Our tour guide provided me with a bit of comic relief during the 3+ hours we were at the sight, simply because I could definitely see myself as being just like her. She was obviously incredibly passionate about her job and about the Cruachan Ai site. She kept wandering off the beaten path of the tour’s information into tangent after tangent as things she had said before sparked new information she wanted to tell us. It became the longest tour I have ever been on (and a little exhausting as the wealth of information began to drift together) but I totally understand how she got as carried away as she did. It’s fun to talk about things about which you’re passionate.
We drove to Dublin then where we’ll be for the next week. The first item on the agenda was LAUNDRY as we have all been running out of clothes. I’ve really never appreciated the excitement of actually getting to do laundry. The hot water, that delicious-smelling detergent, the dryer were nothing at all different than normal but after having to wait for it, it was luxurious. It’s the little things in life, really…
Tuesday June 14, 2011
We started today with a trip to Newgrange, a ceremonial burial site that has been dated to 3500 BC. We were lucky enough to have arrived early and were the first tour of the day, and so the customary horde of hundreds, if not thousands, of people were nonexistent. The workmanship, scale, age and mystical “aura” surrounding the monument was astounding. The intricate designs of swirls and interweaving spirals, geometric triangles and zigzags showed the skill of the ancient Irish on a micro level while the vast scale of the monument and the feat of engineering that it was to create it shouts their abilities at the macro level. The mathematical calculations and the creating of passage so that exactly at the winter solstice, the beams of the rising sun would flow directly through the door header, pass up the winding passage way and illuminate the entire inner chamber is staggering. I wish I could be there for that!
After Newgrange, we hopped back in the bus to see Glenn de Lough, which means “Valley of Two Lakes” and was the sight of an early monastic community. The site, like all the other places we’ve been, was beautiful and peaceful. We toured the ruins of the monastery then decided to hike up a trail that led to a view of both lakes. We all stayed together for about the first hour, then when going got rougher, all the girls but Shannon and I turned back to go take a nap. The rest of us climbed on. And on. And on. Although the stairs built up the mountain did remind me of the Never-ending Steps the Frodo and Sam have to climb in Return of the King to get into the backdoor of Mordor, the view, once again, was worth it. As we stood and looked around us at the mountains, we could barely see the top of the Glenn de Lough’s round tower peeking through the trees and were imagining the relief pilgrims journeying to the monastery hundreds of years ago would have felt at finally glimpsing it.
On the way the Glen de Lough, we ALL passed out on the bus. This last week has been exhausting but I had hardly noticed it because it has been so enjoyable. It finally hit this afternoon and we all slept most of the 1 ½ ride between the two sites. It was lovely, to state it mildly.
Wednesday June 15, 2011
Today we took a day trip to the Yeats Tower and the towns of {town name} and {2nd town name}. Joyce lived in the Tower only for a short time, but the opening chapter of his masterpiece book, Ulysses, takes place in a similar tower with characters based off of the guys Joyce was living with at the time. Even though we knew it was Joyce and his friends who had really lived there, it was easy to imagine Stephen Dedalus, not Joyce, and Buck Mulligan instead of Joyce’s good friend. The Tower is one of an old garrison built to defend the Irish coast from Napoleonic attacks but once that threat was no longer eminent, the government began leasing the towers to people very cheaply. It is directly on the coast and right beside a swimming hole and Charlie took the plunge, not once but twice, into the frigid water, reminding us all of an episode in Ulysses where Buck Mulligan does the same thing.
After eating our lunch overlooking the sea, we took a 6 km. hike over a mountain to the next village. The hike was beautiful and not difficult at all. The path ran directly on the side of the cliffs and we could look down and see the aqua blue water crashing on the rocks and the sea birds wheeling around, even though they looked like specs from the height at which we were walking. We finally arrived at the beach on the other side of the mountain and all took off our shoes to cool our feet in the freezing water. This time Drew and Charles, not to be outdone, joined Charlie in another plunge into the surf. They said the water was indeed, as Joyce puts it in Ulysses, of “scrotum tightening” temperature.
While we waited for the train to take us back to the city, we stopped at a pub for drinks, tea, Irish coffee, Pringles, Cokes etc. etc. etc. and then all found a cheap dinner at a vegetarian Indian restaurant back in Dublin.
Thursday June 16, 2011
Today, June 16, is “Bloom Day” here in Dublin, the day the James Joyce’s iconic novel Ulysses takes place. We opened our day with lunch in St. Stephen’s Green, the place Joyce stumbled through drunk one early morning to be taken in by a kindly Jewish man who took care of him and made sure he was ok. This man and this situation became the basis for the character Leopold Bloom in Ulysses. Today, there were people all over the place acting out scenes from Ulysses, dressed up in period costumes and wishing everyone happy Bloom’s Day. It was so cool to see people engaging so completely in a literary tradition that encapsulated for them their cultural heritage.
After lunch, we walked to the National Historic and Archeology museum and spent a few hours there looking at artifacts from all of Ireland’s history from Stone Age up through our modern period. Most interesting by far were the Bog People. Over the last 200-300 years, people have been uncovering humans buried in the bogs while they were harvesting the peat for fuel. Multiple sets of remains have been found not only in Ireland but all over Europe, and they often show signs of intense mutilation before they were buried. Authorities speculate that these people were human sacrifices that were the placed on tribal boundaries as peace offerings to the gods of the land. Sometimes, this practice was used to get rid of rival candidates to the throne, criminals or prisoners of war.
From the museum, we walked to the National Library to see a Yeats exhibit. It was amazing. As soon as you walked in, there was an area set up with recordings of people reading some of Yeats’ most iconic works, accompanied by pictures and the text of the poem. I got stuck there for 15 minutes before I even set foot in the rest of the exhibit! They had original, hand-written manuscripts of his poems like “Easter 1916” and “The Wild Swans at Coole” and “Prayer for my Daughter” which was amazing to see, and there were multiple exhibits about different important parts of his life, like his unrequited love for the actress Maud Gonne, his immersion the cult of the Sacred Rose and involvement with the Irish uprisings. I bought a book of Yeats’ poetry here and have been so enjoying reading it bit by bit in my little bits of free time. After this, our group of students walked to the National Art Gallery which was lovely. We spent about an hour there, spread out in ones and twos, absorbing the paintings. Dinner and going out for some pints rounded up the day.
Friday June 17, 2011
We began our day with a tour of Kilmainham jail, the place where many of the leaders of the Easter Rising in 1916 were imprisoned and executed. The jail was built in the “reformed” style, meaning that the inmates were given work to do as well as an extremely structured day within the prison walls. Based on the idea that “Idle hands do the Devil’s work,” the prisoners’ work consisted of unbinding the fibers of the massive, tar-coated ropes used on ships. They were separated from each other, ideally in separated cells although over-crowding of the prisons often made that impossible, and they were allowed 1 hour to attend to religious duties and 1 hour for exercise in the prison yards which consisted of walking in circles without making eye contact with other inmates. Children were also imprisoned, usually for stealing food in the midst of the Potato Famine. The reason we went to see the jail was because it was the sight of the execution by firing squad of the leaders of the rebellion. Before this time, most of the Irish considered the revolutionaries who wanted to break British control over Ireland as trouble-makers and did not look on their activities with a sympathetic eye. However, when the British, so summarily and without preamble, killed these men, public opinion rounded to them in anger over the injustice they suffered. In their deaths if not completely seen in their lives, these men spurred on the cause they loved, that of Irish freedom.
From Kilmainham, we walked over to a big museum that housed an exhibit dedicated to the Easter 1916 uprising, the same rebellion I was talking about above. We walked through and saw newspaper clippings, pictures, letters, and other things from the revolutionaries to each other and about public reaction to the uprising. It was here that Gretchen realized that she left her wallet at the supermarket at which we got lunch, so Julie, Charlie and I walked with her to go find it. Luckily, someone had turned it in so in gratitude for walking through the chilly rain with her, she decided to buy us all pints. As we headed back into Dublin on the Luas (an electric tram system), we started chatting with an Irish guy who turned out to be a college student as well. He found out we were heading pub-ward and took us to one of his favorites. We chatted over pints for an hour and then parted ways. Random, but super fun.
Today we left the west coast of Ireland and headed for Dublin. On the way, we stopped for a tour at Cruachan Ai, the possible location of Queen Medb and King Allil’s palace. These two figure in the Irish mythology that we studied in “The Tain,” the story about the cattle raid that Medb instigates when she realizes that because her husband possesses a fine bull and she does not, he surpasses her wealth. Medb was a warrior (as indeed were most Irish women) who fought alongside her husband and her own soldiers on the cattle raid. The place of women in Irish society is unlike anything I’ve ever heard about before; they seem remarkably “forward” or liberal, for lack of a better term. The women had all the rights belonging to a man, and she had control over her own lands, servants, family etc. But what impressed me the most was that the Irish had specific laws in place to protect children. They considered any sexual union that resulted in a child being born as a “marriage” in that the child was always considered to have both a father and a mother. By law, there was never a fatherless or motherless child (what we would term an illegitimate birth) in this society and there was always, by law, a caregiver for a child. The protection afforded the child, someone who never asked to be born and should be cared for just by right on being a human being really impressed me; it’s an idea we could learn from in our society.
After finishing inside the museum, we bussed over to some of the actual sights we had talked about. The most interesting by far was the cave considered to be an entrance to the faeries’ world. Six of us crawled down it, no easy task by the way, as it began as a small, muddy steep opening to wriggle through and continued as a rocky, again muddy, and very dark passage into the earth. It opened up to standing height and before about 15 feet down but we didn’t go much farther than 30 feet since it became very muddy and none of us had prepared for a small spelunking adventure.
Our tour guide provided me with a bit of comic relief during the 3+ hours we were at the sight, simply because I could definitely see myself as being just like her. She was obviously incredibly passionate about her job and about the Cruachan Ai site. She kept wandering off the beaten path of the tour’s information into tangent after tangent as things she had said before sparked new information she wanted to tell us. It became the longest tour I have ever been on (and a little exhausting as the wealth of information began to drift together) but I totally understand how she got as carried away as she did. It’s fun to talk about things about which you’re passionate.
We drove to Dublin then where we’ll be for the next week. The first item on the agenda was LAUNDRY as we have all been running out of clothes. I’ve really never appreciated the excitement of actually getting to do laundry. The hot water, that delicious-smelling detergent, the dryer were nothing at all different than normal but after having to wait for it, it was luxurious. It’s the little things in life, really…
Tuesday June 14, 2011
We started today with a trip to Newgrange, a ceremonial burial site that has been dated to 3500 BC. We were lucky enough to have arrived early and were the first tour of the day, and so the customary horde of hundreds, if not thousands, of people were nonexistent. The workmanship, scale, age and mystical “aura” surrounding the monument was astounding. The intricate designs of swirls and interweaving spirals, geometric triangles and zigzags showed the skill of the ancient Irish on a micro level while the vast scale of the monument and the feat of engineering that it was to create it shouts their abilities at the macro level. The mathematical calculations and the creating of passage so that exactly at the winter solstice, the beams of the rising sun would flow directly through the door header, pass up the winding passage way and illuminate the entire inner chamber is staggering. I wish I could be there for that!
After Newgrange, we hopped back in the bus to see Glenn de Lough, which means “Valley of Two Lakes” and was the sight of an early monastic community. The site, like all the other places we’ve been, was beautiful and peaceful. We toured the ruins of the monastery then decided to hike up a trail that led to a view of both lakes. We all stayed together for about the first hour, then when going got rougher, all the girls but Shannon and I turned back to go take a nap. The rest of us climbed on. And on. And on. Although the stairs built up the mountain did remind me of the Never-ending Steps the Frodo and Sam have to climb in Return of the King to get into the backdoor of Mordor, the view, once again, was worth it. As we stood and looked around us at the mountains, we could barely see the top of the Glenn de Lough’s round tower peeking through the trees and were imagining the relief pilgrims journeying to the monastery hundreds of years ago would have felt at finally glimpsing it.
On the way the Glen de Lough, we ALL passed out on the bus. This last week has been exhausting but I had hardly noticed it because it has been so enjoyable. It finally hit this afternoon and we all slept most of the 1 ½ ride between the two sites. It was lovely, to state it mildly.
Wednesday June 15, 2011
Today we took a day trip to the Yeats Tower and the towns of {town name} and {2nd town name}. Joyce lived in the Tower only for a short time, but the opening chapter of his masterpiece book, Ulysses, takes place in a similar tower with characters based off of the guys Joyce was living with at the time. Even though we knew it was Joyce and his friends who had really lived there, it was easy to imagine Stephen Dedalus, not Joyce, and Buck Mulligan instead of Joyce’s good friend. The Tower is one of an old garrison built to defend the Irish coast from Napoleonic attacks but once that threat was no longer eminent, the government began leasing the towers to people very cheaply. It is directly on the coast and right beside a swimming hole and Charlie took the plunge, not once but twice, into the frigid water, reminding us all of an episode in Ulysses where Buck Mulligan does the same thing.
After eating our lunch overlooking the sea, we took a 6 km. hike over a mountain to the next village. The hike was beautiful and not difficult at all. The path ran directly on the side of the cliffs and we could look down and see the aqua blue water crashing on the rocks and the sea birds wheeling around, even though they looked like specs from the height at which we were walking. We finally arrived at the beach on the other side of the mountain and all took off our shoes to cool our feet in the freezing water. This time Drew and Charles, not to be outdone, joined Charlie in another plunge into the surf. They said the water was indeed, as Joyce puts it in Ulysses, of “scrotum tightening” temperature.
While we waited for the train to take us back to the city, we stopped at a pub for drinks, tea, Irish coffee, Pringles, Cokes etc. etc. etc. and then all found a cheap dinner at a vegetarian Indian restaurant back in Dublin.
Thursday June 16, 2011
Today, June 16, is “Bloom Day” here in Dublin, the day the James Joyce’s iconic novel Ulysses takes place. We opened our day with lunch in St. Stephen’s Green, the place Joyce stumbled through drunk one early morning to be taken in by a kindly Jewish man who took care of him and made sure he was ok. This man and this situation became the basis for the character Leopold Bloom in Ulysses. Today, there were people all over the place acting out scenes from Ulysses, dressed up in period costumes and wishing everyone happy Bloom’s Day. It was so cool to see people engaging so completely in a literary tradition that encapsulated for them their cultural heritage.
After lunch, we walked to the National Historic and Archeology museum and spent a few hours there looking at artifacts from all of Ireland’s history from Stone Age up through our modern period. Most interesting by far were the Bog People. Over the last 200-300 years, people have been uncovering humans buried in the bogs while they were harvesting the peat for fuel. Multiple sets of remains have been found not only in Ireland but all over Europe, and they often show signs of intense mutilation before they were buried. Authorities speculate that these people were human sacrifices that were the placed on tribal boundaries as peace offerings to the gods of the land. Sometimes, this practice was used to get rid of rival candidates to the throne, criminals or prisoners of war.
From the museum, we walked to the National Library to see a Yeats exhibit. It was amazing. As soon as you walked in, there was an area set up with recordings of people reading some of Yeats’ most iconic works, accompanied by pictures and the text of the poem. I got stuck there for 15 minutes before I even set foot in the rest of the exhibit! They had original, hand-written manuscripts of his poems like “Easter 1916” and “The Wild Swans at Coole” and “Prayer for my Daughter” which was amazing to see, and there were multiple exhibits about different important parts of his life, like his unrequited love for the actress Maud Gonne, his immersion the cult of the Sacred Rose and involvement with the Irish uprisings. I bought a book of Yeats’ poetry here and have been so enjoying reading it bit by bit in my little bits of free time. After this, our group of students walked to the National Art Gallery which was lovely. We spent about an hour there, spread out in ones and twos, absorbing the paintings. Dinner and going out for some pints rounded up the day.
Friday June 17, 2011
We began our day with a tour of Kilmainham jail, the place where many of the leaders of the Easter Rising in 1916 were imprisoned and executed. The jail was built in the “reformed” style, meaning that the inmates were given work to do as well as an extremely structured day within the prison walls. Based on the idea that “Idle hands do the Devil’s work,” the prisoners’ work consisted of unbinding the fibers of the massive, tar-coated ropes used on ships. They were separated from each other, ideally in separated cells although over-crowding of the prisons often made that impossible, and they were allowed 1 hour to attend to religious duties and 1 hour for exercise in the prison yards which consisted of walking in circles without making eye contact with other inmates. Children were also imprisoned, usually for stealing food in the midst of the Potato Famine. The reason we went to see the jail was because it was the sight of the execution by firing squad of the leaders of the rebellion. Before this time, most of the Irish considered the revolutionaries who wanted to break British control over Ireland as trouble-makers and did not look on their activities with a sympathetic eye. However, when the British, so summarily and without preamble, killed these men, public opinion rounded to them in anger over the injustice they suffered. In their deaths if not completely seen in their lives, these men spurred on the cause they loved, that of Irish freedom.
From Kilmainham, we walked over to a big museum that housed an exhibit dedicated to the Easter 1916 uprising, the same rebellion I was talking about above. We walked through and saw newspaper clippings, pictures, letters, and other things from the revolutionaries to each other and about public reaction to the uprising. It was here that Gretchen realized that she left her wallet at the supermarket at which we got lunch, so Julie, Charlie and I walked with her to go find it. Luckily, someone had turned it in so in gratitude for walking through the chilly rain with her, she decided to buy us all pints. As we headed back into Dublin on the Luas (an electric tram system), we started chatting with an Irish guy who turned out to be a college student as well. He found out we were heading pub-ward and took us to one of his favorites. We chatted over pints for an hour and then parted ways. Random, but super fun.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Ireland days 5, 6 & 7
Friday June 10, 2011
Today started out with a trip to Athenry Castle, a Norman fort build in the middle of Ireland for the invading force to repel attacks from the native Irish. It was in a beautiful setting in the middle of the small town that grew up around it and with a small river beside it. The castle is indicative of the force of imposed rule that has been upon Ireland for so much of its history. After this we drove for about 1 ½ hours heading to Sligo and on the way stopped at the ruined monastery, Clonmacnoise. Situated on the Shannon river, Clonmacnoise used to be the crossroads of Ireland because it was placed at the intersection of all the major trade and travel routes through the country. It grew eventually into a rich and flourishing town and spiritual center but that very prosperity was ultimately its downfall. The town and monastery were sacked upwards of thirty times in its history, with the final time completely stripping it of all but the stones that made up its walls. Today, it is a spiritual sight, a pilgrimage destination and a place of great peace. There is an undercurrent of deep stillness here in Ireland where even though cars are going by or sheep are bleating or boats are cruising by on the river, if you listen just below the surface you will be infused by a peace that is all-consuming. I imagine it is how the world should be, how it was 1000 years ago when our ancestors walked the hills and plains and beaches and forests of the world. The rush of the city and stench of pollution are at least suppressed out here in Ireland’s countryside even if it still exists and for a time you can forget what’s happening in the world and remember instead how things were. Maybe that’s why I love it so much here. Maybe that’s why I feel like I’ve come home in a way. Because this is how our home, my home should be.
Saturday June 11, 2011
Today was exhausting and exhilarating. We started out the day with a trip to Carrowmore, a Neolithic burial site situated in a basin of land in between mountain ranges. Most of these ranges are topped by their own monument and can be seen in a beautiful panoramic arch from Carrowmore. We heard a really interesting tour about the different monuments and their history and their importance to the Irish people. These graves are important to the studies that we have been doing because these passages not only were seen as portals into the world of the fairies (Tuatha de Dannan) but they are also concrete ties binding the Irish to their cultural heritage.
After finishing our tour of Carrowmore, we drove a part ways up the mountain on which Queen Maev’s cairn is built and then hiked the entire way up (around 1500 feet) on loose pebbles, rock slabs, grass and moss. It wasn’t an easy climb, but the view from the peak once surmounted was so worth it. The mountain is situated right on the coast and for an 180 degree arch in front of you is the Atlantic and behind you is the grand panorama of the other monument-topped mountains. It was so spectacular. From the peak, our two surfers of the group, Charles and Charlie, spied the waves at the coastal town of Strandhill near the base of the mountain, so they, Gillian, Julie, Drew and I all decided to go on a spur-of-the-moment adventure. We hiked down the mountain, through multiple peoples’ pastures, tore through blackberry bushes and hopped mud spots for an hour until we finally had to ask someone to let us through their last pasture so we could get to the road. After finding out that since the surf was so dangerous that swimming had been outlawed and surfing could only be done with a instructor in the water and they couldn’t just rent boards and wetsuits, the boys ended up meeting an instructor who understood what they wanted and graciously offered to just loan them some of his personal gear. They surfed for about an hour (which was really cool to watch) then we all went to have a few beers and some dinner at a pub overlooking the sea while we waited for the bus back to Sligo. All together, it was an amazing day of heights and beauty and surprises and hikes and slips and laughs and sea water. Perfect.
Sunday June 12, 2011
After our miles long hikes yesterday, today was spent mostly in the bus riding from site to site, which was a nice rest. We first stopped at Parke’s Castle, a castle home on Lough Gill. The most interesting thing to me there was a small sauna/steam room cut into the rock where the peasants used to heat stones and pour water over them to fill the room with steam and then after a few hours they would get out and take a plunge in the chilly lake in an effort to cure the ailments. From the castle we stopped off on another part of Lough Gill where the lake isle of Innisfree, made famous by Yeats’ poem of the same name, can be seen. We all stood there and looked at it while Julie read the passage aloud:
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree.
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glad.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
From there, we stopped at a holy well of which there are over a thousand in Ireland. There was a beautiful sort of shrine set up around the well and as it is a Catholic place, the stations of the cross are also set up around for people wanted to pray. Next came the grave of Yeats in the graveyard of a church in the shadow of the mountain Ben Bulben (another of the mountains associated with the mythological past of Ireland in which Yeats was deeply entwined). Our last stop was Glencare waterfall, associated in the mythology with the snatching away of children by the fairies to bring them into the fairy realm. Even though its been raining allllllll day today and it has been really chilly, it was a day full of beautiful sights and indescribable vistas.
Today started out with a trip to Athenry Castle, a Norman fort build in the middle of Ireland for the invading force to repel attacks from the native Irish. It was in a beautiful setting in the middle of the small town that grew up around it and with a small river beside it. The castle is indicative of the force of imposed rule that has been upon Ireland for so much of its history. After this we drove for about 1 ½ hours heading to Sligo and on the way stopped at the ruined monastery, Clonmacnoise. Situated on the Shannon river, Clonmacnoise used to be the crossroads of Ireland because it was placed at the intersection of all the major trade and travel routes through the country. It grew eventually into a rich and flourishing town and spiritual center but that very prosperity was ultimately its downfall. The town and monastery were sacked upwards of thirty times in its history, with the final time completely stripping it of all but the stones that made up its walls. Today, it is a spiritual sight, a pilgrimage destination and a place of great peace. There is an undercurrent of deep stillness here in Ireland where even though cars are going by or sheep are bleating or boats are cruising by on the river, if you listen just below the surface you will be infused by a peace that is all-consuming. I imagine it is how the world should be, how it was 1000 years ago when our ancestors walked the hills and plains and beaches and forests of the world. The rush of the city and stench of pollution are at least suppressed out here in Ireland’s countryside even if it still exists and for a time you can forget what’s happening in the world and remember instead how things were. Maybe that’s why I love it so much here. Maybe that’s why I feel like I’ve come home in a way. Because this is how our home, my home should be.
Saturday June 11, 2011
Today was exhausting and exhilarating. We started out the day with a trip to Carrowmore, a Neolithic burial site situated in a basin of land in between mountain ranges. Most of these ranges are topped by their own monument and can be seen in a beautiful panoramic arch from Carrowmore. We heard a really interesting tour about the different monuments and their history and their importance to the Irish people. These graves are important to the studies that we have been doing because these passages not only were seen as portals into the world of the fairies (Tuatha de Dannan) but they are also concrete ties binding the Irish to their cultural heritage.
After finishing our tour of Carrowmore, we drove a part ways up the mountain on which Queen Maev’s cairn is built and then hiked the entire way up (around 1500 feet) on loose pebbles, rock slabs, grass and moss. It wasn’t an easy climb, but the view from the peak once surmounted was so worth it. The mountain is situated right on the coast and for an 180 degree arch in front of you is the Atlantic and behind you is the grand panorama of the other monument-topped mountains. It was so spectacular. From the peak, our two surfers of the group, Charles and Charlie, spied the waves at the coastal town of Strandhill near the base of the mountain, so they, Gillian, Julie, Drew and I all decided to go on a spur-of-the-moment adventure. We hiked down the mountain, through multiple peoples’ pastures, tore through blackberry bushes and hopped mud spots for an hour until we finally had to ask someone to let us through their last pasture so we could get to the road. After finding out that since the surf was so dangerous that swimming had been outlawed and surfing could only be done with a instructor in the water and they couldn’t just rent boards and wetsuits, the boys ended up meeting an instructor who understood what they wanted and graciously offered to just loan them some of his personal gear. They surfed for about an hour (which was really cool to watch) then we all went to have a few beers and some dinner at a pub overlooking the sea while we waited for the bus back to Sligo. All together, it was an amazing day of heights and beauty and surprises and hikes and slips and laughs and sea water. Perfect.
Sunday June 12, 2011
After our miles long hikes yesterday, today was spent mostly in the bus riding from site to site, which was a nice rest. We first stopped at Parke’s Castle, a castle home on Lough Gill. The most interesting thing to me there was a small sauna/steam room cut into the rock where the peasants used to heat stones and pour water over them to fill the room with steam and then after a few hours they would get out and take a plunge in the chilly lake in an effort to cure the ailments. From the castle we stopped off on another part of Lough Gill where the lake isle of Innisfree, made famous by Yeats’ poem of the same name, can be seen. We all stood there and looked at it while Julie read the passage aloud:
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree.
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glad.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
From there, we stopped at a holy well of which there are over a thousand in Ireland. There was a beautiful sort of shrine set up around the well and as it is a Catholic place, the stations of the cross are also set up around for people wanted to pray. Next came the grave of Yeats in the graveyard of a church in the shadow of the mountain Ben Bulben (another of the mountains associated with the mythological past of Ireland in which Yeats was deeply entwined). Our last stop was Glencare waterfall, associated in the mythology with the snatching away of children by the fairies to bring them into the fairy realm. Even though its been raining allllllll day today and it has been really chilly, it was a day full of beautiful sights and indescribable vistas.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Ireland days 3 & 4
Tuesday June 7, 2011
We spent last night in Doolin, a quiet little town near that has become a tourist stop because of its perfect proximity to multiple natural or historical sights. It doesn’t feel touristy at all, unlike some “quaint” towns. We spent the day walking around the city and I bought a wool beret, or a “knitty”, as I found out it is called this morning. You can see it in my pictures as it figures prominently in all of them since it probably not be coming off my head for the next two weeks.
The evening was particularly lovely. We all stopped in at O’Conners pub (which was the pub that tourists generally do not frequent) where it was music night. It was packed with people, parents and toddlers, young people, older people, everybody, all with a glass of beer (often Guinness) in hand. There was a small section in the center of the pub directly in front of the bar where a small group of musicians (a harpist, a flautist, a banjo player, and a harpist) were sitting around a table filled with half-finished drinks and different musical apparatus, playing with all their might. Everyone was milling around getting their food and drinks but were all still listening and engaging with the music and the players. It was a lovely evening. I myself had my first full glass on Guinness (albeit, a pretty small one) which turned out to be my dinner, since I forgot about ordering food until I got back to my hotel. In my defense, it is a pretty filling beer.
The hot shower and queen size bed were pure heaven. So far, our hotels are fabulous. I’m writing this from Galway where we arrived around 4 o’clock this afternoon.
After we left Doolin, we drove to a cairn, which is a common-burial ground, in were placed cremated remains of multiple people which were then topped with a mound of rocks. This one, in the middle of the flat and rocky Burren, was special because it was topped with a Dolmen, which means “passage,” hence these types of structures are called Passage Tombs. These tombs are so old that they figure in Celtic mythology as the portals into the underground world of the Tuatha de Dannan, the fairy race, where they lived after the humans defeated them and drove them out of Ireland.
From there, we drove to Coole Park, the estate of Lady Gregory who was an influential figure in the Celtic Revival. She translated and compiled manuscripts of the Irish myths, most famous Gods and Fighting Men which chronicles the life of Finn and the Finians (the Fenian Cycle of the mythology). Yeats as another important writer for the Revival spent much of his time at Coole Park along with other great revival-minded people. There is a huge tree in the garden-grounds of the estate called the “Autograph Tree” where Yeats and other writers carved their initials. The trunk itself has to be gated-around now to keep people from carving their own graffiti on it, which I think is a shame, but beneath the massive, spreading bows is like a small, greenish-purple cave. So tranquil and peaceful.
After Coole, we bussed on the Galway where we’ll be for the next 3 days. It took us about drove about an hour and we arrived at our hotel in the midafternoon. The hotel, again, is lovely. And we have free Wi-fi which I always look on as a super luxury. Our driver, Nigel, recommended to me a pub to get fish and chips for dinner so after settling in, we all headed to the city center (literally 200 yards for our hotel) and set to walking. There is a long stretch of pedestrianized street, called The Keys, I believe, filled with shops and street performers and pubs. After finding our dinner spot and eating, we stopped at a pub and got a round of Guinnesses and listened to the musicians inside. After about 30 minutes there and waiting out a rainstorm we found a really great street band, who ironically turned out to be from Portland, OR, and after listening to their street show, we followed them to the next pub at which they were performing. We stayed there til nine listening then hopped over to a pub closer to our hotel for open-mic night where Charles performed an awesome set for everyone. Since it doesn’t get dark here until like 10:00pm, it throws the body’s time table off so its really easy to stay up super late and feel fine. I left the pub and walked the 200 feet to our hotel around midnight and shower, blogged a bit, was able to catch Nick on skype and didn’t fall asleep til around 2:00 am. The next morning was rough, needless to say.
Wednesday June 8, 2011
This morning we headed to the Aran Islands via ferry. The crossing tok about 40 minutes and was great. Charles, Drew and I along with Dr. Kelly and Maggie stayed on the open top of the ferry in the cold wind and the spray. It really was great/invigorating/freezing/the right way you should ride a ferry in Ireland. The water is startlingly cerulean-blue and clear. I did not expect it at all, but it is stunning. Once we got to Innismore (the largest of the three Aran islands) we walked up the harbor-side road and met our tourbus that would take us around the island. Our delightfully witty driver told us about the island and its history and inhabitants while we wended our way up to Dunn Angus (which I will get to in a minute). Innismore has about 900 inhabitants, about 860 of whom were born on the island (our driver among them). The main industries are fishing and tourism, with farming being sort of a hobby now. The land is all subdivided into small, dry-walled fields that contain mostly cows who simply feed off the grass that grows naturally. The people on the island use no pesticides or hormones on their animals or their gardens so everything produced is 100% organic. They can keep their smalls gardens growing and their cattle in the fields year-round because they never get frost or snow even in the winter because of certain weather currents, although they will get winds strong enough to knock you off your feet.
We arrived at Dunn Angus which has been supposed to be a fort on the cliffs of the island, but is now thought to have been used more for religious services. Honestly, it would have been pretty idiotic for any invaders to have even tried to attack this place, as you can see from the pictures that I will try to post on the blog, if I can.
I have seen many beautiful places in my life, but I can honestly say that Innismore has topped them all. Once we trekked the 20-minute climb to the fort, we were met with the most breath-taking scenery I have ever seen in my entire life. The 3-walled fort made of drystone walling is in a vast semicircular pattern, the end of which is not another wall, but instead is it open to the sea. The walls are built directly up to the edge of the cliff with the entire side of the structure that is facing the sea open, protected from invaders or encouraging to spiritual worship by the 300 meter cliffs that fall away below to the crashing surf. I have never seen a more staggering, awe-inspiring place in my life. The entire inside of the fort is carpeted in grass, not stone like in other places I’ve been, and it gives the place an air of grandeur, serenity and peace.
After we eat lunch inside Dunn Angus, we trekked back down the mountain and Julie and I stopped for tea again. The Earl Grey was not a strong as I like it, but the cute, flowered tea service it was served in more than made up for it. After Drew finally caved and bought is awesome Aran wool weater, we got back on the bus for a drive to a ruined monastery right on the coast of the island. On the island, families will all be buried in a single burial plot with all the names recorded on the headstone above them. This graveyard was full of such plots, but a more beautiful place for the peoples of the Arans to have worshiped or to be buried could be be found anywhere. I have never seen a place like this. The water all around the island is the clear, aqua blue of the harbor and the waves lashed up by the fierce wind whips the water into whitecaps you can see for miles. The effect in so peaceful.
After this we returned to the little city center and shopped around in the woolen shop there. Three more people bought hats so that before long, we will have an entirely newly-hatted people. Pictures to follow, I am sure. Another stop of tea and a hour or so wait for the ferry finished our day on Innismore. On the ferry ride home, however, we had a surprise ending when the Irish Coast Guard made an unexpected appearance to practice depositing a rescuer on a moving vessel. We all watched and cheered him on while he waved proudly back as he was hoisted up and down. Quite impressive.
And that was the end of today’s events. We all have decided to split pizza tonight and hang out and eat in Julie’s and my room to save ourselves some money. Tomorrow is a free day here in Galway so we have no set schedule. This has been my favorite day so far, hands down, and my favorite place. And its only day three!
We spent last night in Doolin, a quiet little town near that has become a tourist stop because of its perfect proximity to multiple natural or historical sights. It doesn’t feel touristy at all, unlike some “quaint” towns. We spent the day walking around the city and I bought a wool beret, or a “knitty”, as I found out it is called this morning. You can see it in my pictures as it figures prominently in all of them since it probably not be coming off my head for the next two weeks.
The evening was particularly lovely. We all stopped in at O’Conners pub (which was the pub that tourists generally do not frequent) where it was music night. It was packed with people, parents and toddlers, young people, older people, everybody, all with a glass of beer (often Guinness) in hand. There was a small section in the center of the pub directly in front of the bar where a small group of musicians (a harpist, a flautist, a banjo player, and a harpist) were sitting around a table filled with half-finished drinks and different musical apparatus, playing with all their might. Everyone was milling around getting their food and drinks but were all still listening and engaging with the music and the players. It was a lovely evening. I myself had my first full glass on Guinness (albeit, a pretty small one) which turned out to be my dinner, since I forgot about ordering food until I got back to my hotel. In my defense, it is a pretty filling beer.
The hot shower and queen size bed were pure heaven. So far, our hotels are fabulous. I’m writing this from Galway where we arrived around 4 o’clock this afternoon.
After we left Doolin, we drove to a cairn, which is a common-burial ground, in were placed cremated remains of multiple people which were then topped with a mound of rocks. This one, in the middle of the flat and rocky Burren, was special because it was topped with a Dolmen, which means “passage,” hence these types of structures are called Passage Tombs. These tombs are so old that they figure in Celtic mythology as the portals into the underground world of the Tuatha de Dannan, the fairy race, where they lived after the humans defeated them and drove them out of Ireland.
From there, we drove to Coole Park, the estate of Lady Gregory who was an influential figure in the Celtic Revival. She translated and compiled manuscripts of the Irish myths, most famous Gods and Fighting Men which chronicles the life of Finn and the Finians (the Fenian Cycle of the mythology). Yeats as another important writer for the Revival spent much of his time at Coole Park along with other great revival-minded people. There is a huge tree in the garden-grounds of the estate called the “Autograph Tree” where Yeats and other writers carved their initials. The trunk itself has to be gated-around now to keep people from carving their own graffiti on it, which I think is a shame, but beneath the massive, spreading bows is like a small, greenish-purple cave. So tranquil and peaceful.
After Coole, we bussed on the Galway where we’ll be for the next 3 days. It took us about drove about an hour and we arrived at our hotel in the midafternoon. The hotel, again, is lovely. And we have free Wi-fi which I always look on as a super luxury. Our driver, Nigel, recommended to me a pub to get fish and chips for dinner so after settling in, we all headed to the city center (literally 200 yards for our hotel) and set to walking. There is a long stretch of pedestrianized street, called The Keys, I believe, filled with shops and street performers and pubs. After finding our dinner spot and eating, we stopped at a pub and got a round of Guinnesses and listened to the musicians inside. After about 30 minutes there and waiting out a rainstorm we found a really great street band, who ironically turned out to be from Portland, OR, and after listening to their street show, we followed them to the next pub at which they were performing. We stayed there til nine listening then hopped over to a pub closer to our hotel for open-mic night where Charles performed an awesome set for everyone. Since it doesn’t get dark here until like 10:00pm, it throws the body’s time table off so its really easy to stay up super late and feel fine. I left the pub and walked the 200 feet to our hotel around midnight and shower, blogged a bit, was able to catch Nick on skype and didn’t fall asleep til around 2:00 am. The next morning was rough, needless to say.
Wednesday June 8, 2011
This morning we headed to the Aran Islands via ferry. The crossing tok about 40 minutes and was great. Charles, Drew and I along with Dr. Kelly and Maggie stayed on the open top of the ferry in the cold wind and the spray. It really was great/invigorating/freezing/the right way you should ride a ferry in Ireland. The water is startlingly cerulean-blue and clear. I did not expect it at all, but it is stunning. Once we got to Innismore (the largest of the three Aran islands) we walked up the harbor-side road and met our tourbus that would take us around the island. Our delightfully witty driver told us about the island and its history and inhabitants while we wended our way up to Dunn Angus (which I will get to in a minute). Innismore has about 900 inhabitants, about 860 of whom were born on the island (our driver among them). The main industries are fishing and tourism, with farming being sort of a hobby now. The land is all subdivided into small, dry-walled fields that contain mostly cows who simply feed off the grass that grows naturally. The people on the island use no pesticides or hormones on their animals or their gardens so everything produced is 100% organic. They can keep their smalls gardens growing and their cattle in the fields year-round because they never get frost or snow even in the winter because of certain weather currents, although they will get winds strong enough to knock you off your feet.
We arrived at Dunn Angus which has been supposed to be a fort on the cliffs of the island, but is now thought to have been used more for religious services. Honestly, it would have been pretty idiotic for any invaders to have even tried to attack this place, as you can see from the pictures that I will try to post on the blog, if I can.
I have seen many beautiful places in my life, but I can honestly say that Innismore has topped them all. Once we trekked the 20-minute climb to the fort, we were met with the most breath-taking scenery I have ever seen in my entire life. The 3-walled fort made of drystone walling is in a vast semicircular pattern, the end of which is not another wall, but instead is it open to the sea. The walls are built directly up to the edge of the cliff with the entire side of the structure that is facing the sea open, protected from invaders or encouraging to spiritual worship by the 300 meter cliffs that fall away below to the crashing surf. I have never seen a more staggering, awe-inspiring place in my life. The entire inside of the fort is carpeted in grass, not stone like in other places I’ve been, and it gives the place an air of grandeur, serenity and peace.
After we eat lunch inside Dunn Angus, we trekked back down the mountain and Julie and I stopped for tea again. The Earl Grey was not a strong as I like it, but the cute, flowered tea service it was served in more than made up for it. After Drew finally caved and bought is awesome Aran wool weater, we got back on the bus for a drive to a ruined monastery right on the coast of the island. On the island, families will all be buried in a single burial plot with all the names recorded on the headstone above them. This graveyard was full of such plots, but a more beautiful place for the peoples of the Arans to have worshiped or to be buried could be be found anywhere. I have never seen a place like this. The water all around the island is the clear, aqua blue of the harbor and the waves lashed up by the fierce wind whips the water into whitecaps you can see for miles. The effect in so peaceful.
After this we returned to the little city center and shopped around in the woolen shop there. Three more people bought hats so that before long, we will have an entirely newly-hatted people. Pictures to follow, I am sure. Another stop of tea and a hour or so wait for the ferry finished our day on Innismore. On the ferry ride home, however, we had a surprise ending when the Irish Coast Guard made an unexpected appearance to practice depositing a rescuer on a moving vessel. We all watched and cheered him on while he waved proudly back as he was hoisted up and down. Quite impressive.
And that was the end of today’s events. We all have decided to split pizza tonight and hang out and eat in Julie’s and my room to save ourselves some money. Tomorrow is a free day here in Galway so we have no set schedule. This has been my favorite day so far, hands down, and my favorite place. And its only day three!
Monday, June 6, 2011
Post 1: Arrival, Cilffs of Moher and the Burren
Sunday June 5, 2011
This group is fabulous! After meeting up (all on time, by the way) at Charleston airport, we sat at our gate and chatted for the two hours before our departure. We left on time for Newark and arrived there in perfect time for our 5-hour layover. We all went straight off to find lunch, since our previous flight had not even given us pretzels along with our “beverage service.” I tell ya, airplane food really is going downhill. After eating, Maggie, Drew, Charles and Charlie decided it would be either incredibly ironic or awesomely fitting to spend some time at the “authentic” Irish pub close to our gate. We had pints (except for me, of course. I had a Jack & Coke) and sat there for the next 2 hours, chatting about James Joyce and other such literature-enthusiast things, until the rest of the group drifted in and we finally meandered down to our gate. After another hour or so of waiting, we found out our plane had “a slight mechanical problem” which thankfully only delayed us 30 minutes or so.
The plane is rather smaller than I really like for such long flights with only 3 seats on either side of the central isle but it could’ve definitely been worse – like the 2-seat-by-1-seat-er we had from Charleston to Newark. I shall indeed count my blessings.
I’ve been trying to keep a migraine under wraps since we landed in Newark but I seem to be fighting a losing battle, so I will rely on my Tylenol PM and the next 7 hours of (hopefully!) sleeping to knock it out. I do not relish the idea of arriving in Ireland feeling crappy!
I think dinner has arrived! I’m off to eat and pop my sleep-maker.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Well, the sleep-maker did not work its magic. I dozed fitfully for only about an hour before we arrived in Shannon around 7:20 am so I am rather...out of it. We all got through customs smoothly and met our bus driver-slash-tour guide extraordinaire for the next 8 days, Nigel. We hoped into our private bus (which is big enough for us to all have our own row; an incredible luxury after the 7 hours in the squashy plane), and we off to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast of Ireland. These stunning basalt and sandstone cliffs soar over 600 feet into the air from the sea. They were featured in both the Princess Bride movie as the “Cliffs of Insanity” and (we think) in Harry Potter 6 as the cave where Voldemort has hidden the locket horcrux (and yes, we realize that knowing that definitely designates us as dorks). The cliffs were spectacular. I kept thinking that it was so sad that so many people would never see them in their lives, and how incredibly fortunate I am. It’s easy to imagine Cuhulain and the Tuatha de Danaan who figure so prominently in Irish myth standing in this same place, seeing the same rugged, sweeping, majestic beauty that I am. After the cliffs, we bussed to a place called the Burren, coming from the Irish word meaning “rocky place” (or something pretty darn close to that). It’s a rugged deposit of limestone that used to make up the seafloor when the oceans were much higher. It’s a lonely, wild place with striated deposits of rock jutting out of the ground and going right up to the present-day shore line, where it plunges down cliffs again (though not as far a plunge as Moher). At this point, Nigel took us all to a real Irish pub called “The Irish Arms” since we were all starved by this time. We had a fabulous time there enjoying soup, bangers and mash, fish and chips and, of course, Guinness.
Now, back at our lovely hotel (with free wireless!) we are all struggling to stay awake until at least 7 o’clock to get on the right time schedule. I think the boys gave in a took a nap so they can go out tonight, but I really don’t think that will be on my agenda. For tonight at least…
P.S. If I figure out how to post pictures to the blog, I will, but if I can’t, refer to my facebook page for pics of each day’s adventures.
P.S.S I do apologize for this rather boring post. My brain is still reallllly foggy. I do hope to safely say that the quality will go up from here on out :)
This group is fabulous! After meeting up (all on time, by the way) at Charleston airport, we sat at our gate and chatted for the two hours before our departure. We left on time for Newark and arrived there in perfect time for our 5-hour layover. We all went straight off to find lunch, since our previous flight had not even given us pretzels along with our “beverage service.” I tell ya, airplane food really is going downhill. After eating, Maggie, Drew, Charles and Charlie decided it would be either incredibly ironic or awesomely fitting to spend some time at the “authentic” Irish pub close to our gate. We had pints (except for me, of course. I had a Jack & Coke) and sat there for the next 2 hours, chatting about James Joyce and other such literature-enthusiast things, until the rest of the group drifted in and we finally meandered down to our gate. After another hour or so of waiting, we found out our plane had “a slight mechanical problem” which thankfully only delayed us 30 minutes or so.
The plane is rather smaller than I really like for such long flights with only 3 seats on either side of the central isle but it could’ve definitely been worse – like the 2-seat-by-1-seat-er we had from Charleston to Newark. I shall indeed count my blessings.
I’ve been trying to keep a migraine under wraps since we landed in Newark but I seem to be fighting a losing battle, so I will rely on my Tylenol PM and the next 7 hours of (hopefully!) sleeping to knock it out. I do not relish the idea of arriving in Ireland feeling crappy!
I think dinner has arrived! I’m off to eat and pop my sleep-maker.
Monday, June 06, 2011
Well, the sleep-maker did not work its magic. I dozed fitfully for only about an hour before we arrived in Shannon around 7:20 am so I am rather...out of it. We all got through customs smoothly and met our bus driver-slash-tour guide extraordinaire for the next 8 days, Nigel. We hoped into our private bus (which is big enough for us to all have our own row; an incredible luxury after the 7 hours in the squashy plane), and we off to the Cliffs of Moher on the west coast of Ireland. These stunning basalt and sandstone cliffs soar over 600 feet into the air from the sea. They were featured in both the Princess Bride movie as the “Cliffs of Insanity” and (we think) in Harry Potter 6 as the cave where Voldemort has hidden the locket horcrux (and yes, we realize that knowing that definitely designates us as dorks). The cliffs were spectacular. I kept thinking that it was so sad that so many people would never see them in their lives, and how incredibly fortunate I am. It’s easy to imagine Cuhulain and the Tuatha de Danaan who figure so prominently in Irish myth standing in this same place, seeing the same rugged, sweeping, majestic beauty that I am. After the cliffs, we bussed to a place called the Burren, coming from the Irish word meaning “rocky place” (or something pretty darn close to that). It’s a rugged deposit of limestone that used to make up the seafloor when the oceans were much higher. It’s a lonely, wild place with striated deposits of rock jutting out of the ground and going right up to the present-day shore line, where it plunges down cliffs again (though not as far a plunge as Moher). At this point, Nigel took us all to a real Irish pub called “The Irish Arms” since we were all starved by this time. We had a fabulous time there enjoying soup, bangers and mash, fish and chips and, of course, Guinness.
Now, back at our lovely hotel (with free wireless!) we are all struggling to stay awake until at least 7 o’clock to get on the right time schedule. I think the boys gave in a took a nap so they can go out tonight, but I really don’t think that will be on my agenda. For tonight at least…
P.S. If I figure out how to post pictures to the blog, I will, but if I can’t, refer to my facebook page for pics of each day’s adventures.
P.S.S I do apologize for this rather boring post. My brain is still reallllly foggy. I do hope to safely say that the quality will go up from here on out :)
Saturday, June 4, 2011
A New Trip!
Charleston, SC 11:00 pm
Rebecca is back in full force! It is quite shameful that I have not blogged anything in almost 2 years. I am ashamed.
Luckily, I new international trip has jumpstarted me again. I am heading to Ireland, bright and early tomorrow morning for 2 weeks of roaming up hill and down dale studying mythology and the Celtic Revival. It should be amazing, and as I have a compulsive need to record things when I travel (generally because my introverted nature processes things better this way), you will have a change to follow us along.
Hop on board. I'm off to cross the pond...
Rebecca is back in full force! It is quite shameful that I have not blogged anything in almost 2 years. I am ashamed.
Luckily, I new international trip has jumpstarted me again. I am heading to Ireland, bright and early tomorrow morning for 2 weeks of roaming up hill and down dale studying mythology and the Celtic Revival. It should be amazing, and as I have a compulsive need to record things when I travel (generally because my introverted nature processes things better this way), you will have a change to follow us along.
Hop on board. I'm off to cross the pond...
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