A fine mess of contradictions

Back from Eire

The beautiful bay on the Irish sea


Malahide Castle

So it's 6 something in the morning and I can't sleep. Mostly because of the time change, partially because I can't turn off my brain. So I thought I would share some of my experiences abroad for the entertainment of others. I arrived back in Canada in a typical manner. It was snowing, bleak and cold. But I was rushed off to a bar to see 7 of my closest girlfriends from university so my intiation wasn't quite so horrible, though when I arrived home at 3 am Canadian time I realized it was the next morning in Ireland. Ouch.

As I was driving back up to London I started to get overemotionally depressed. I think it was partially because I was exhausted and partially because I feel like going back to school at this point is a giant step backwards- though a necessary one so I can finish this damn Master's. But at least it's a nice buffer before the horrible real world and jobs and all that.

But as I was driving I suddenly saw something amazing. A huge orb of pinkish orange was hovering on the horizon. The sun was so close to the ground it looked like an optical illusion, and it was absolutely gorgeous. I've never seen anything like it. I'm sure there is some scientific explanation dealing with gases and air masses but the sun has never looked weirder or more mesmerizing. I got completely lost in it- yes I remained in my lane on the 401- but it gave me a little bit of hope for these next 3 months of intense schoolwork. And then as I got on the off-ramp for London one of my favourite classic rock songs came on. I think things like that are little bits of fate, and I took it as a sign that I can make it.

And now on to Ireland. What an amazing, mystifying place it can be. I think I'll share some of my more hilarious revelations about Irish culture while I was working at the Irish Independent newspaper and living in Ireland for the past month.

- First, you would think that Ireland's customs would be fairly similar to those in North America. You would be wrong. The smallest things are so dramatically different that I end up looking idiotic or just confused half the time.

- People wear their shoes indoors. Yes, this is the strangest custom to me. "No honey, you're in Ireland now, leave your shoes on," they would say. But why? It is raining and dirty out and I'm going to track crap all through your nice carpeted house?!!! So you end up sitting there- and everyone else has theirs on as well- in someone's nice living room, drinking a beer wondering, why for the life of you you're so uncomfortable until you realize you have boots on indoors. Strange. I know.

- Corn. It is in everything. The Irish put it on pizzas, in salads, in tuna (BARF, and thus ruining all sandwiches) and it is creeps into daily food. I like corn, but not on my pizza. Yuck. Why? I have no idea.

- On my daily bus rides in the morning it seemed like everyone in the Ireland had a horrible cough. That would be all fine and well except that NO ONE covers their mouth. So the person in front of me and beside me would just hack all over me while I cowered in a corner covering my mouth with my scarf. Terrifying for a germaphobe like myself, but you get used to it.

- The Irish are exceptionally friendly. Not everyone obviously, but most people go out of their way to give you their phone number, take you out for a drink, stuff you full of food and then continue calling you and making sure you are doing alright. Not even just relatives- friends, coworkers, everyone. It's really nice. And people say hi to you on the streets. Whereas in Toronto or London I would put up my hood and walk quicker, there it was just lovely. And you'll never go hungry or thirsty- which is an understatement.

- I've never eaten more in my life. Maybe when I was in Ghana I had equivalent amounts of carbohydrates, but never so much dairy. I actually think butter is in everything in Ireland. You know what I cannot digest? Large amounts of dairy and alcohol. Guess what I had every day? It pains me to think about it. I think even the chocolate has butter in it- and everything is like 5xs the amount of fat that it would be in Canada. Milk is like cream. I think even the orange juice had cream in it. And they would make Irish coffees mixing, alcohol, coffee and cream in ONE drink. It was insane. And my stomach was very defiant and by the last week I was barely able to digest water and bread, so I guess it was a great diet? Feeling too sick to eat anything in the whole buttery country? I dont know how people stay alive there past 30- it is the heaviest, most intense diet ever. But the Irish are a hearty peasanty type and they have defied the odds somehow. I cannot wait to eat some soy beans and sushi. yaaaay.

- Swearing. Now I have quite the sailor's mouth. I can compete with the best of them for rage-induced streams of expletives but the Irish are something else. In the workplace it was all "fockin eejits" and "feck this" and "feck that" and "arsehole" and just streams of insane words that I was shocked one could use in a professional situation. But surprisingly you can. And that is why I like Ireland. Because you can say whatever the fock you want.

- The Irish use a completely different vocabulary from the English language. I was copy-editing some of their pages and like half of the words weren't in the dictionary, nor did they make any sense. When I would point them out, everyone would reply, well that's just the word we use for coffee, appliances, a poor person, etc. Confusing, I say. And the sentences were written the way people speak. I wanted to flip around almost every sentence, but alas I would only try to point out the most blatant sentences and phrases that were completely unintelligible. Only to be told, that no, indeed that phrase made perfect sense. Hmmm...

-Craic. The Irish word for fun is pronounced "crack". So people would say, hows the crack? And I'm like, what the shit, I dont do that kind of thing. It was some good crack last night they would say. Oh you arent actually doing crack, you're talking about having fun? I heard a story about a guy at the airport who said he came to Ireland for the good crack. Oooops. haha Bet he got a nice takedown for that one. I also cannot pronounce any Gaelic words to save my life, leading me to embarassing situations where I would have to ask my office mates where the hell Laois was- when it was pronounced Leash. Who would have known? Not me.

- In one my lovely office gaffes I used an Irish swear word in a meeting. Little did I know that this word was a complete insult, slur, swear word because everyone I know used it when talking about people from Limerick and other such unsavoury types. So I throw it out there when discussing a story idea in a meeting and people just started cracking up and laughing and clearly I did not and still do not understand what this word means.

- The weather is INSANITY. Ireland is so beyond gorgeous but you just never know what to expect when you leave the house. The weather report on TV is always hilarious because it shows a swirling mass moving over the island and basically says "we have no freakin clue what the weather will be today." It was always rainy in the morning and then the second I got indoors it would become incredibly sunny. Figures. But it's so hilarious and beautiful that you can't hate it for being windy, cold, drafty, hot, or whatever the hell it chooses to be on a matter of days.

So that's all for now. I love Ireland. It does it for me. I could move back but would have to import things from Canada that don't include lard or butter in the ingredients. I miss it already.

Oh and here is a lovely picture of my poor puppy in a leprechaun costume. I'm a jerk who dresses up their pet, but it was too funny to resist.

posted by Kate @ 3:50 AM