Thursday, December 6, 2018

A Little Love

As my semester abroad comes to a close, I can’t help but think how far I’ve come. Before this experience, the farthest I’d ever been from home was Canada and that was only for a week.  Now, I’ve been Across the Sea (see what I did there) for almost five months.
And to be honest,  I wasn’t even sure I would survive these five months. In fact, just two years ago I was homesick living on Loyola’s campus only an hour away from home. I guess time changes things because here I am: Abroad and Thriving.

This is Me Thriving.

Before I came to Ireland, I was both excited and nervous: two feelings that you would be expected to feel if you were going off to a foreign place in which you knew absolutely no one.  For me, it wasn’t so much the “foreign country” that phased me but the not knowing anyone.  I wanted to see so much of the world but I couldn’t do so without a friend.
If I even thought to travel alone my mother would bite my head off, literally. I’m not joking. I would be headless.  But besides the whole issue of being headless,  I didn’t really want to travel by myself but I was also afraid I wouldn’t make friends.
Upon arriving in Ireland, I met Mary Breen our Study Abroad Coordinator and was instantly reminded of my own mother. Not only did she pick us up from the airport at 7:30 in the morning but she laid out a whole schedule of touristy activities to welcome us to Ireland and help us get adjusted. Without her, I’m not sure if I would have become such good friends with my roommate, Katie.
In fact, my first conversation with Katie was at the Blarney Castle Tour that Mary Breen planned (you may remember this from a past blog). We were slowly climbing up the staircase in a single file line when I almost slipped.  “Do you think that anyone died falling down the stairs?” I asked out loud. Katie laughed “ I don’t know, maybe.” I sighed as we had stopped again on the steps,“ Well, I guess they probably don’t write that they died falling down the stairs.”  “I guess not.” She agreed.
“But what about the women with their long dresses?” I questioned. “I don’t know. You’re  asking the wrong person.” Katie laughed. “Well, it certainly would be a sucky way to die.”  We found out later that we would be living in the same apartment and we soon planned a trip to see a musical in London. Thanks to Ireland and Mary Breen, I made a new friend and we have had amazing adventures traveling in Ireland and beyond.

Katie and Me. 

My thoughts of Ireland before coming here were of green grasslands, four-leaf clovers, leprechauns, and St. Patrick’s day. But surprisingly there has been no mention of Leprechauns, and St. Patrick’s Day is considered to be more of an American holiday than an Irish holiday.
Originally, I thought of Ireland as a very peaceful country but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Ireland, as we know it today, has had a very recent violent past with the War of Independence only happening less a century ago and the IRA terrorist attacks against Northern Ireland occurring only twenty years ago.
Not to mention, the Irish Potato Famine that sent thousands of Irish people to America.
I assumed that Ireland was a peaceful place given that the scenery is so peaceful, but I guess that’s like assuming America is always peaceful because of its scenery.

            Now since learning all of this, I see Ireland not only as a now peaceful country full of green but as a resilient country able to go through all the hardships it’s had and still come out on top. It’s kind of like what Shane, my professor from Folklore, said about Ireland, “she was an old woman but that if you gave her love, she would turn into a beautiful woman,” or in other words, Ireland can be renewed with just a little love.

A Mural From Belfast About Peace. 



P.S: This is my last post for Across The Sea, so I just want to thank you guys for reading about my journey in Ireland.  I really appreciate it.  Anyway, I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year! :) 















Thursday, November 29, 2018

To The Next Resident of Jennings Pool Apartment 15, Room 2


          Hope you're doing well and settling in okay.  I know it’s a big adjustment to move to a new place and there's a definite learning curve. Trust me, for the first month or two I got lost either trying to find my class or simply looking for the phone store. But it gets better and once it gets better you’ll realize how great this study abroad experience truly is.
Cork, specifically,  is a great city to live in, so if you take anything from this note, go explore it. They have a beautiful park where the remains of the original Cork wall (from Cork’s days as a fortress) are gated off. It’s the only green part of the whole city.  There are also many coffee shops and restaurants that are local and delicious, even close to the UCC campus (if you’re coming to study here).
A Typical Cork Street
In fact, if you ever end up having class in the Conolly Building or Theatre Department, there is a cute coffee shop called The Coffee House (creative I know)  on the way where I often stop for a scone, tea, hot chocolate, or maybe all of the above. The workers there are super nice and have great Irish accents if you’re into accents that is.
Their scones are huge and always have a sweetness to them that’s not too overpowering and are a great cross between soft cookie dough and a hard ginger snap. So it won’t completely crumble in your hands or break your teeth, two important things to avoid when hurrying along to your next class.
The tea and hot chocolate are amazing. Their whipped cream is what I would imagine clouds would taste like and the hot chocolate itself is just sweet enough and warm but not scorching hot that it will burn your tongue off. In other words,  it's perfect to drink on your way to class when you need a “pick me up” and like me, you don’t like coffee.
            Besides the food, there is a lovely stretch of street called Grand Parade with street lights curved over a gray stone walkway. This is like the Times Square of Cork City, where all the big parades and events happen and it’s easy to find even for the directionally impaired like myself.  Almost every side street and alley leads to it and you can’t miss the marble monument dedicated to the various Irish uprisings held in Cork against the British. 

Grand Parade During Christmas Time. 

 Blarney Castle and Jameson Distillery are a must as well since they are the most well-known of the area but be warned: The Blarney Stone is hard to kiss and Jameson Whiskey doesn’t taste good without a mixer. But there are also some unknown and not touristy attractions that were great as well. One of them is the Cork Zoo which is more like a park in which the animals can wander free throughout the park (within reason, of course)
   I even took some close-up photos of animals just chilling on a wooden fence only a few feet away from us. It was kind of odd since it didn’t seem afraid of us at all, but it was great that the animals weren’t locked in cages.

A Ringtailed Lemur just chilling in the Cork Zoo. 

            Cork is just the beginning, There are also places all over Europe that you can travel to as well but I would advise you not to wait to the last minute to complete your assignments even if it seems you have “all the time in the world” because, in reality, you don’t. I learned that the hard way by staying up all night in order to finish some assignments. And for some classes, one exam is your only grade in the class, so I don’t recommend waiting until the last minute. So, don’t go traveling every weekend. School is still a thing whether your abroad or not. 


            Also, it might be helpful to lay down some rules with your suite-mates about cleanliness if you aren’t a fan of hair on the shower walls and crumbs all over the kitchen counter. You will be living with Irish students too, which has been an interesting experience.  Their lifestyle is a little different than ours so it is good to be flexible.   
Most of all, I advise trying not to stress too much and enjoy your experience abroad. Just don’t forget you're learning too! J

With All The Best Wishes,
The Former Resident of Jennings Pool Apt #15, Room 2

If you haven't guessed, that's me. And yes, I am crazy. :) 




Sunday, November 25, 2018

Man, That Smells!

Smell is a funny thing. I feel like I only notice it when I'm hungry or something is literally in front of my nose (pun intended). So, I guess you can say I am oblivious to the smells around me. 
However, when I do "smell things" I smell them strongly. As in, it completely takes over my nostrils and rises all the way up into my brain. It’s impossible to ignore.At home, smells that capture me are of the cow manure spread across the fields of corn or the Amish horse accidents left while traveling along the back roads. 
It’s not exactly pleasant but not exactly horrible either. Except when it's windy or hot, then it seeps in through the air vents of your car and there is no escape.


Though on some days my nose is treated to the donut smell from the TastyKake factory I pass on the way to church.It’s a local baked sweet factory that houses multiple cupcakes and candycakes. My personal favorite is the chocolate while my dad prefers the Krimpits or the vanilla cupcakes shaped like a cube.
When I was younger, I always wanted to go inside the factory especially after watching Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I wondered whether or not each sweet factory had a chocolate river and orange Oompa Loompas to work it.
Alas, it was not meant to be but I still think of that factory every time a waft of sugary sweetness comes my way. In Ireland, I’ve found that although some of the smells have changed, some are still the same.
 For instance, out in the countryside of County Cork, there is also the pervasive smell of cow manure but instead of cornfields, there are green blades of grass. And instead of Amish horse “residue” on the roads, there ’s spray-painted sheep (that’s another story) and their droppings to invade your nostrils.

An Irish Sheep.

And while this all seems unpleasant, it gives me the nostalgic feeling of home. Ironically, there is comfort in familiar smells even if they are less than sweet.There is also the constant smell of rain here,  a fresh damp scent. Sprinkled in among the rain itself is what the rain has flooded and pushed to the forefront, mostly dirt turned to mud and a few sprays of trash.
The City Center in Cork smells much more diverse. In the old English Market (founded in 1788) there is a wide array of food smells. The most noticeable is that of raw meat and fish. 
After all, in the English Market alone, there are at least three or four different meat and fish stands and the meats aren’t the prepackaged type you would find in Acme or Giant.
Oh, no. The meat and fish are displayed in fridges in all their freshest glory. Some are even still shaped in the body parts of the animal, covered in scales with big dead eyes. Despite the gruesome appearances of the meat and fish, the smell isn’t completely offensive to everyone but the bloody scent is just pungent enough to make me shiver in disgust as I pass by.
I guess it makes sense to have such fresh fish and meats on display; Cork is a port city once considered the “Venice of the North” so naturally, they have just-caught fish and really, all of Ireland is known for its meat.
The entrance to the English Market.

I do still wonder whether or not it necessary to have a whole gutted fish and a pig’s head on display. I don’t know about you, but it seems a little much to me. The Irish seem oblivious to it though.Outside the Market, you can most likely smell rich coffee brewed in the nearest cafĂ© and the mouth-watering cinnamon bun scent from the bakery next door. 
And when you pass a restaurant like Jackie Lennox (the best fish and chip place) you get a sniff of the hot fried fish and fries coming right out the door.Honestly, the smell of Cork, especially its foods, depends on where you are because the scented air changes like the passing of the wind. 
Some of these aromas I will miss when I leave but others, not so much.

A cinnamon bun from a local Cork Bakery. 


Thursday, November 15, 2018

Missing Meatballs

Before coming to Ireland I heard all kinds of opinions about the food.  
Mainly that it is mostly beef and potatoes and bland tasting.
My grandmother especially did not care for the food the many times
she has visited.  I can still see here wrinkled nose and pursed lips as she
shook her head while describing to me the meals she endured. So, to say it nicely,
I didn’t have high hopes that I was going to love the food.  

But I have enjoyed most of what I’ve sampled so far.  Yes, some foods are prepared more
plainly than at home and there is a lot of mayonnaise which I’m not a fan of. And I have yet to be
served my favorite condiment, honey mustard sauce.  I guess that is not so popular here.
But I keep asking for it when I go out.

One of my favorite takeout places is called Jackie Lennox.  It looks like your average fast food place
from the outside but once you step through the  door the smell of good food hits you right in the face.
All in all, I guess it is fast food (they sure serve it fast) but they are known for their fish and chips.  
The first time my friend and I ordered there, we couldn’t believe how much food we got in a single order.

Fresh white fish (I’m not exactly sure what kind) is fried perfectly and dumped on a square of cut
packing paper along with a heap of what they call chips (fries) and sprinkled with salt and vinegar.  
The whole thing is wrapped up and served in a paper bundle. I’d say one order can feed 2 or
maybe 3 people. I’ve become a regular, but I ask them to hold the vinegar (it’s too sour for me!).

One thing I really do not like that the Irish serve a lot is the black pudding that they often have with
breakfast.  I can best describe it as a meat cake that reminds me of what I’d imagine dog food tastes
like. I looked it up after I tried it and I wish I hadn’t.  It’s made of pork blood and other waste parts
mixed with oats. Now does that sound appetizing?

I guess you could say the same about our Philadelphia scrapple, though.  It’s really tasty just don’t
read the ingredients. Fried and topped with ketchup, it’s one of my favorite special occasion breakfast
foods. Yum!  I do miss scrapple.

All in all, I think Irish food is more home cooking and less processed. You can buy most things from
the U.S.(under a different brand name) but it seems to me that meals are a little more healthy than
at home. Of course there is a McDonald’s in downtown Cork.  Still, the stews and chowders are
filled with meats and fish and vegetables that are so good for you. Even the side of brown bread
is probably better for you than the basic rolls you get at most restaurants at home.

There are a few dishes that I do miss from home.  I have yet to find Chinese takeout and I have
craving for some sesame chicken.  It will probably be one of the first things I order when I get back.

Yet, by far the food I miss most is my mom’s homemade meatballs. Yes, there are good Italian
restaurants here in Cork but none of the meatballs compare to those my mom makes by hand.
Drenched in marinara sauce and simmered all day on the stove, just the thought of them make
my mouth water.

My mom actually sent me the recipe along with the key spices she uses, but I haven’t made them.
There is something about how she makes them that I know I probably can’t replicate. Maybe it’s
the love she adds.

I do occasionally dream of sitting down with my family back home to a big pasta dinner complete
with those meatballs.  I’ll have to wait a little while longer. For now I’ll have to be content with
the excellent fish and chips that I’ll never get back home.
The Best Fish and Chips!



Thursday, November 8, 2018

The Lumpy Potatoes

Growing up, I was always told that the Irish only ate potatoes and beef. After all, that was what my family had on St. Patrick’s Day every year in celebration of our Irish heritage.
My mom was always reminiscing about how my Nanny made the best homemade potatoes in the world. Unfortunately for her though, my mom gave birth to two children who hated homemade potatoes.
Why?
Well, you see, homemade potatoes like the bananas mentioned in my previous blog, have a weird texture. But instead of them being hairy like bananas, they are lumpy.
I remember trying them for the first time on Thanksgiving one year (the only other time my family has homemade potatoes) and almost spitting them out on the table. I frowned, scraping the rest off my fork. “What’s with that face?” my mom asked from across the table. “The potatoes,” I grumbled, picking up a piece of turkey instead. “What about them?” “They’re lumpy,” I complained.
My mom gasped, “But that’s the best part.” I crinkled my nose in disgust and shook my head. She sighed, taking my plate and scraping the rest onto hers.
“ I guess it’s good you don’t live in Ireland then.”
“ Why?” I questioned.
“ Because all they eat are potatoes.”
After living in Ireland for a few months, now I realize that’s not true. At least, not in today’s Ireland with multiple eatery options from cafes to fish and chips stands, and even Italian restaurants which surprised me as well.
            However, it was true in the past, before Southern Ireland got its independence and was still a colony of Great Britain, especially during the 19th century. In fact, I learned that one of the most important kitchen dishes to have was a dish to serve potatoes on. It was a staple of the Irish diet for many years, so much so that when the potato crop failed due to a fungus in the 1840s and 1850s, the great famine started leading to the mass immigration of the Irish to America.
            Most people know this from their basic history class, but what many don’t know is why the potato was central to the Irish diet. For a while, I thought it was because the Irish couldn’t grow any other crop due to the weather or something but that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
            Apparently, according to a native Irish man from Dublin, Ireland also grew other crops, mainly barley and corn in the 1800s.  Most of the crops however were exported to Great Britain to probably feed its population given that it was during the Industrial Revolution and there wasn’t much farmland left in England. This only left the potatoes for the Irish to eat and slowly but surely they began to depend on them.
             When famine hit in the mid-1800s, destroying the potato crop, the Irish didn’t suffer just because of the potato. Oh no, the real reason they suffered was because of the British because they didn’t lend any help to the Irish and kept taking their barley and corn that the Irish now desperately needed. Therefore, the Irish didn’t really die or move to America because of the potato but because the British refused to help them.

            Now, of course, I could be missing a few key facts but that is essentially the truth of it. The British starved the Irish and even though the potato is doing fine today and is present in many stores and restaurants (particularly  as a side for almost every dish) the potato’s dark past cannot be erased, adding a whole other meaning to the Irish potato.

And I do know this for a fact: I will never complain about lumpy potatoes ever again.


Image result for potato blight ireland
Potato "blight" or fungus

Image result for irish stew
Irish stew with lots of potatoes!

Thursday, November 1, 2018

Scones


HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!
HERE’S MY NEXT POST, HOPE YOU ENJOY IT!


Food and I have always had a weird relationship. It’s a statement that is weird in itself, but it’s true. For example, I hate bananas simply because of their texture.
What’s wrong with their texture? It’s simple, really. They are just hairy, and I don’t like hairy foods.
When I told my high school friends about this over the laminated cafeteria tables one day at lunch, they laughed. One of them, a Tinker Bell look-alike named Jennie, even corrected my terminology, saying that bananas are stringy, not hairy. I agreed then but secretly, I still think they're hairy.

It’s a similar thing with broccoli too except my issue is more with its appearance than the taste (even though that ’s nothing to rave about either).
I think they look like trees and think it’s weird to eat trees, therefore, I don’t eat broccoli.
“ You’re ridiculous,” my mom stated over a dinner of Chinese food one night.
I had eaten all of my sesame chicken and rice, leaving four pieces of broccoli drowning in a thick brown sesame sauce.
It kind of reminded me of a river after a hurricane, overflowing and brown with unfortunate trees uprooted from the ground.
“Do you want them?” I asked, ignoring her comment. My mom rolled her eyes but scooped the broccoli onto her plate.

Doesn't this piece of Broccoli look like a tree?
Anyway, you get the point:  I’m weird about certain foods. Naturally then, I was afraid I wouldn’t find anything I liked to eat in Ireland. My nanny, who has been visiting family in Ireland since she was a girl, told me the horror stories of their food.
Apparently, they only had tough beef and lumpy mashed potatoes during their stay. In fact, one year my grandparents were so sick of beef and potatoes that they sprinted to the McDonald’s which was an all-time low for them considering my grandparent’s fine dining tastes.
However, I was pleasantly surprised when I entered the local grocery store here and saw bins of strawberries and grapes, varieties of meat like chicken and pork, and even some familiar American brands like Doritos and Oreos. There is one food though that is distinctly Irish that I love.  And that, my friends, are scones.
Now, I know that most people would associate scones with the British and it’s true, the British have scones as well,  but people often forget that Ireland “suffered 800 years under British oppression” as a colony of England.
And, despite the Irish’s best efforts to resist the English and their culture, they did absorb different foods and traditions, one of them being scones. For people who don’t know what a scone is, I’ll explain. A scone is a cross between a muffin and a cookie but often hard as a rock. They usually sit the bakery section of every convenient store and resemble mini lumpy circles of bread.
An Irish Scone

There are different varieties of scones but the most popular are Raisin, Fruit, and plain. The raisin ones are probably the ones you’re most familiar with since American grocery stores usually sell them around St. Patrick’s day along with Irish soda bread.
Honestly, the fruit and raisin sprinkled in them is unnecessary and I’d even go as far as to say that plain scones are better. Some, of course, will say that they taste too bland without raisins and fruit.  I think the crumbly, buttery flavor is so good all by itself.
I guess it just depends on preference. I had my first truly Irish scone in a small cafĂ© on campus called Elements located near what is called “the ugly science building.”
It was my first day of  UCC (University of Cork) classes and I didn’t want to arrive late on the first day, but I probably didn’t need to be there an hour early. Not knowing what to do with myself, I decided to sit down and order something to kill time.

A Typical breakfast for me: Scones and Tea. 

At this point, I should probably mention that I have had scones before and it’s a tradition in my family that my mom makes scones every St. Patrick’s Day.
However, American scones are different from Irish scones. For starters, American scones are shaped like isosceles triangles and are often smaller than Irish Scones.
American scones are also far sweeter than Irish scones.  
I know that personally because my mom sprinkles sugar on her homemade ones while there is only a buttermilk glaze on the Irish scones (which is sweet but not sugary sweet). Secondly, there is a difference in their texture.
In the beginning, I mentioned that Irish scones were hard, but the American version is quite soft like a cookie in comparison. None of these differences are necessarily bad, but they are two distinctly different types of scones just like there are two types of Italian pasta and Chinese food: the Americanized version and the original Italian and Chinese version from the country itself.  

Mom's homemade but American Scone. 
What’s the same, though, is that I love both types of scones and have become addicted. Ireland has an endless supply of them and so, five days out of seven, I usually have a scone to substitute for one of my meals.
In fact, I have probably eaten more scones in the past three months than I have my whole life.  While this obviously seems unhealthy (I can see my health-nut friends frowning), I want to eat as many as possible since I only get them once a year at home.
One thing among many that I will miss when I leave Ireland is its scones.

View of Ireland from a Castle.