Different

My mom used to say every time I’d complain about being different that the world would be boring if we were all the same. Being a kid at the time, I don’t think I truly understood that, having the urge to fit in with the other kids and all. This study abroad experience has really made me understand what she was talking about. After all, I never would have met my Professor, Shane, if the world was all the same. 

Now, I know I’ve been talking about Shane a lot (to the point that some might think I might be stalking him), but I don’t think my inside scoop of an Irish man would be complete if I didn’t talk about our similarities and differences. First I’ll start with the differences.  

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Shane is an older gentlemen and I am obviously a college kid so there is a fairly large age gap. This would probably not surprise anyone given that he’s a professor and professors are generally older than students, but I think it’s interesting to mention because that would mean our life experiences are unique just due to our different generations.  

Shane grew up in the 1970s and I grew up in the early 2000s so there were different social norms, trends, and games, among many other things. However, that’s what I found fascinating while taking a class with him, we benefited from sharing our different experiences. 

Another clear distinction between us is that is he is more of  a calm “live in the moment” kind of guy and I am more of a stressed “must plan for the future” type. And to be honest, I think that has to do partly with the cultures we grew up in. 

One thing I’ve noticed about being in Ireland is that people don’t take your grades as seriously and don’t make it seem like it’s the end of the world if you get a C in a class. While in America,  I always feel like our grades are everything and that you are considered a failure if you get a C in a class. 

This could just be true for me, but I think in America there is always a competition to be bigger and better. To be a success you must be in the top 10% of your class yet be involved in diverse activities like music or sports, and on top of that, have a great social life.  In Ireland, however, I feel like there is more of a relaxed, be content with what you have vibe. 

Shane is also an atheist while I am a Catholic. I found this ironic since he is so fascinated by religious festivals like St. Brigid’s Day and about the practice of sacred holy wells and shrines in Ireland which are all associated with religion.

 He does, however, believe that religion, particularly the Catholic Church, is important in bringing communities together and is wondering now that Ireland is moving away from the church, what will bind communities together.  

Meanwhile, I accept many feasts or festivals as a given or fact since it’s weaved into the fabric of who I am as a person. It is instinctual for me to go to church and celebrate the religious feasts and holy days so I don’t find it as fascinating. It’s as mundane as breathing to me.

Yet, it’s interesting that we were both raised Catholic. We were taught the same beliefs, received the sacraments, and listened to same readings in the Bible. Yet one of us embraces the faith while the other rejects it. 

Our other differences include Shane’s ability to speak Gaelic and his craftsmanship in  making weaved chicken nests, horseshoes, and there is that melodic Irish accent. Though I have studied Italian, I can’t speak much of it, I’m not crafty at all and the only melody I carry is with my flute and not my basic American accent.

Yet, are Shane and I really so different? We are both human beings who have feelings, ideas and opinions.  We are also both fascinated with the folklore and mythical practices of Ireland. Despite our differences, I enjoyed our interactions very much. After all, there is always the old saying: opposites attract.

A cross headstone from a famous cemetery called Glasnevin.
Fun Fact: it was the first non-domination cemetery in Ireland, so Shane and I could be buried here. 

The Every Day Life of Shane

Americanos, Grandkids, Honey 

Professor Shane’s favorite drink was an "Americano", out of all the typical hot drinks served at the Irish cafes. The irony of it wasn’t lost on me that there was such a drink called an Americano, yet it wasn’t an American drink.

 I also found it kind of funny that as an American, I had never had an Americano, but supposedly its origins are from Italy. Now that I think of it, there are probably Americanos in America, but I guess I’m just too much of a tea lover to turn to the dark side of coffee.

Anyway, he alternated between that and tea, (probably Barry’s Tea if I had to guess since it’s the most popular one here) depending on the type of day. It was tea during our regular break in between classes and an Americano when he took the class to the local pubs around Cork. 
One time though, he deviated and ordered a beer! We raised our eyebrows at him but he just laughed, “C’mon now! Get a drink if you want (sounded like wunt)! The university’s payin!” We looked at each other and then shrugged. A few people ordered beer after him but I decided to go with ginger ale, being a lightweight and not wanting to get tipsy on a class trip. 

Now Shane is by no means a drunk but like most people, he enjoyed a drink or two. On a bus ride home from the ruins of a monastery adjacent to a tower house, he told us that after work, he’d often pour himself a glass of red wine and watch “the telly.” It helped him wind down after a long day, not to mention, it was good for his health. I smiled remembering how my father had told me the same thing one summer evening. 

This is the ruins of Kilcrea Monastery that we went to. 

Drinks aside, Shane and his partner have grandkids who live in Dublin and every so often, come to Cork to visit. “They’re bloody nuts!” he spoke animatedly about how they were still quite young and full of energy. He obviously loved his grandkids as a twinkle would appear in his eye as he spoke of them, but I’d expect that he also breathed a sigh of relief when they left. 

Besides the occasional visit from the grandkids, Shane lived alone with his partner Moira (not sure if this is spelled right) and a pitch black cat. He didn’t really talk much about them except when she randomly called during our last field trip.  

“ Hello?” Shane answered. “I fixed the satellite!” she replied quite loudly for some of us to hear the conversation. “Did you now... How’d you do that?” Shane seemed surprised “I just whacked it and it started to work!” came the female voice from the other end.  “Good work!” he exclaimed. They continued their chatter for a few more minutes but then he hung up, shaking his head. 

“Our telly hasn’t been working very well, our image being all fuzzy. She climbed up onto the roof to fix it and fixed it,” he explained. “How?” one of the girls, a blond with big black square glasses, asked. “She hit it” he chuckled and we laughed along. 

He later talked about his cat and how pudgy it is. Apparently, he was a sucker for the cute cat eyes. For the life of me though, I can’t remember the darn cat’s name. Stay tuned for that, I’ll have to ask him if  I see him again.

During a lecture about straw hen nests, baskets, and weaving, he told us about one of his favorite hobbies: beekeeping. I’m not sure what spurred his interest in them, but a few years ago he bought a weaved hive and bees. And every spring and summer day, he took care of his bees and sold their honey. 

This is an example of one the weaved hen nests.  

Apparently, it took a lot of work to get that honey from the hive to fill the jars. He was overjoyed each time he reached the top. Then, after bottling it, he placed it on an outdoor wooden shelf with a sign. It read: “Honey for Seven Euros”  and he just left a box for the money. 

When we expressed our concerns, thinking he could get robbed, he sighed and shook his hand. “I don’t think anyone will steal my honey. After all, most people are good people, including my neighbors. I trust my neighbors.” 

Personally, I was surprised and honestly thought he was a bit naïve. A realization dawned on me then: everyone should be like this. We should be able to trust each other to at least do the right thing and “not steal the honey.”

 In fact, our lack of trust in others is often what causes problems in our society. It’s quite a shame really, that we often always think the worst of people rather than the best. 

I’m glad that Shane has a positive and trusting view of people. Maybe his example will inspire others and start a chain reaction but even if that doesn’t happen, I know he inspired me to try to look at humanity in a more positive and trusting way. 

Meet An Actual Irish Man

Hello Everyone! 

Here's my next post! Hope you Enjoy! 

By simply looking at Shane, you couldn’t tell he was Irish. He didn’t have the stereotypical red hair and freckles but once he opened his mouth, he was, without a doubt, Irish. Yet, his accent wasn’t overpowering like other’s I’ve met; you could still easily hear the English underneath the coating of his Irish brogue. 

          Actually, it gave plain English a pleasant sound, kind of like adding milk or sugar to bitter coffee or tea. It made even the simple English words elegant, or at least they sounded that way.

          Shane wasn’t a particularly tall guy in comparison to my own brother’s almost 6 foot height, but he was taller than me (which isn’t that much of a feat since I am just 5’2”). He said that he was “the perfect height at 5’8”.

     I met Shane on a cloudy, misty Friday in a dark, basement lecture room. It was our “early start”orientation and he was my Irish Folklore professor. He and another woman named Aoife (pronounced Eva) announced that they would be our professors and then promptly handed out a recommendation guide of what attractions and pubs to go to. And let’s just say, I knew this was going to be a fun class since they recommended pubs for us!

      Every morning Shane’s hair was brushed neatly to the side and styled just so, but it was also peppered with gray. Yet, he didn’t seem old. There always seemed to be a spring in his step and a grin on his face. By far, the most noticeable thing about Shane (at least, about his appearance) were his eyes. They were light blue, what I would imagine the sky’s reflection looks like in a mirror. They were the kind of eyes that made you feel like he was looking right into your soul but not in a creepy way.

       Shane dressed as if he lived in sunny Florida or tropical Hawaii rather than in damp and misty Ireland. His wardrobe consisted mostly of tee shirts and khaki shorts with walking sneakers, but sometimes he would change it up by adding a light gray rain jacket. He was not the most stylish looking-man, but the Irish aren’t exactly known for their fashion. But I’m not exactly one to judge since I’ve been told I dress like a nun before. 

        Anyway, Shane had this enthusiasm wrapped around him, the kind that you would see from a child upon realizing every day is Christmas. He loved talking about the different aspects of Irish folklore but especially about the food. I’d wager a million dollars that food was his favorite part of folklore. 

          And who wouldn’t like that part? The food in Ireland is very fresh and tasty. To Shane, however, food was more than just delicious. He thought food was integral to understanding, not only the Irish culture, but all cultures in general. 

         At our first lecture Shane read this quote about cooking written by a famous anthropologist named Claude Lev-Strauss: “Cooking is the language through which society unconsciously reveals its structure.”

         That’s why, on our first day he took us out to a pub called The Long Valley. Shane had a genuine belief that food was central, not only for survival, but as a “meeting” of sorts and he wanted to show us by actually taking us to lunch. In fact, it was at lunch that we (the students) really got to know Shane better. I guess he proved his point.

The Long Valley Pub in Cork Ireland. The food is very good there by the way.

        Surprisingly, Shane also had a natural curiosity about simpler things. For example, he was fascinated with a traditional boat called a “currach." At a traditional boat workshop called Meitheal Mara,which means Group (or community coming together) of the Sea, he explained that a currach was “essentially a big basket covered in leather.” 

         Shane demonstrated the whole process of building a currach, from placing and cutting the pieces of wood to putting the leather bottom underneath it. He told us that he built one himself with his friends, but it took them a year and a half while it should have only taken one to two weeks. 

          Obviously, Shane was the type of man to be more interested with joking around and messing with his buddies than productively building a boat. 

          Shane, overall, was more into enjoying and experiencing life than working all the time and I think that’s what I liked best about him. He was more interested in showing us the culture of Cork and Ireland than having an actual class filled with tons of assignments and tests. 

         Shane didn’t even know what our assignments were going to be until half-way through the course. In fact, he wouldn’t let us call him “professor”, he was just Shane to us. And this, in itself, is a rare thing to find, but I’m glad I was able to experience Irish life through his eyes if only for three weeks. 

This is the basic form of the Currach. Fun Fact: It's Ireland's major symbol besides the Harp . 

Introducing Me... And Cork Ireland

Hello Everyone!

My name is Lauren Battista and I’m from Oxford, Pennsylvania, just an hour outside of Philadelphia.  I am a writing and communications interdisciplinary major with a film minor and wish someday to become a novelist or a screenwriter. Music is also a great passion of mine and I like writing my own songs on the piano.            

I tend to be more of an introvert but I do enjoy taking on challenges. Just this past May, I took part in a five day camping excursion on the Appalachian Trail even though I’d never gone without a shower in my life.  We roughed it for sure, having to weather severe storms every night and hike long distances during the day.  It was quite an adventure.

Me and my camping gear. And, yes, it was heavy. 

Currently, I’m studying abroad in Cork, Ireland. I have been here for almost a month since I took an introductory class for three weeks. So far, Cork  is amazing. I’m addicted to the  mouthwatering, fresh scones and Barry’s hot tea. I’ll admit I have gotten lost in the city center a few times while trying to find things like the grocery store and the immigration office. But, overall, Cork has been treating me well.

   For those unfamiliar with the city, Cork is located at the southern tip of Ireland and was once known as the Venice of North since most of its roadways were originally waterways. It was originally named for a castle, or a tower house as it is properly called here, but only a small section of that wall remains today in a park called Bishop Lucey Park. It’s one of the only green spots in the city center and is always overflowing with pigeons and people alike.

The remains of the original castle of Cork. 

One of the most surprising things I’ve learned about Cork, and Ireland in general, is that St. Patrick’s Day, although still a big holiday here, is not celebrated as vigorously as it is in America. While it’s true that Saint Patrick is the patron saint of Ireland, he is more important to Irish American immigrants, because St. Patrick represents their home and so they use it as a day to pay homage to their culture and country of origin.

In fact, one of the most common songs affiliated with the Irish, "Danny Boy," wasn’t even completely written by the Irish. A man named Frederic Weatherly, a British lawyer, actually wrote the lyrics we know today while the tune was an old-Irish tuned called “Derry Air.” However, since it reminded the Irish of their fight for independence, it is recognized as a national Irish song.

Frederic Weatherly.

Ireland is also known for being the originator of the harp, which is the country’s official symbol and the only musical instrument to be used as such. In the past, it was even considered to be a good occupation to be able to play the harp, because it was used to entertain the ruling chieftains and other wealthy people. Though, when England started taking over, it tried to suppress the Irish culture which left harpists out of a job.

Cork, in particular, is known for its exceptional dairy butter and the infamous Blarney Castle with the stone that is nationally known to bring you good luck if you kiss it. What most people don’t know though, is that there is no set origin story of where the stone comes from; there are five different stories.

Blarney Castle 

My personal favorite involves the Queen of Fairies who fell in love with a young chieftain. Supposedly, he died in battle and the queen found his body on a stone near the River Lee. The legend goes that his blood and her tears caused magical powers to be absorbed into the stone. It’s depressing but romantic at the same time.

And that’s another thing about the Irish: they like tragic love stories for some reason. I don’t know if it’s because sadness is easier to describe or that more people can relate to it, but sad Irish love stories seem more prevalent than  in other cultures. 

As I continue to study and live here in Ireland, I’m hoping to learn about some more legends, however, maybe some more uplifting ones. Also, I’m excited to explore many traditional Irish festivals and music, but most of all, I can’t wait to see the world. This trip is a chance of a lifetime and I don’t want to waste a minute.

Now, let the adventure continue!
Looking forward to working and sharing my experiences with you guys! 

Kissing The Blarney Stone, Kudos to Katie O'Donnell for the Photo. :)