I Live in Paradise

No hysterical stories from the weekend. I just wanted to rub it in everyones faces that I get to live here....














Had a fairly low key weekend. Marissa, Brigid and I went to Bray yesterday. Bray is a small resort village about 30 minutes south of Dublin. It was absolutely GORGEOUS. We got on the DART train and headed due south. We were shocked to find out that one stop away on the train was a beach. We are so City Center focused that we were completely unaware of our other surroundings. Turns out I'm close to the beach! Who knew!
We were told that we couldn't go to Bray without getting a picture of ourselves up by the cross on top of Bray Head, so we set off to reach the summit. (Authors Note: Picture was taken on Marissa's camera, I will have that eventually). We began the leisurely stroll up Bray Head when suddenly our nice paved path turned into dirt. Alright, we're tough, we can handle this. We continued along the path when suddenly it got steeper..and was less of a path than a stream of mud. Interesting. We continued our hike, noting how out of shape we were as we scaled the mountain. We took a short break and turned around to see the most stunning view of Bray, with a rainbow arching over the water. One of the few moments in my life I've been left speechless by natures beauty. After staring mouths agape for a few minutes, we began our climb again. Around this time the trail basically disappeared and we off roaded it through some prickly plants for awhile. We knew we had made a wrong turn, but we were too focused on reaching the cross to care. The final ascent to the top is practically straight up. It's worth it though, as reaching the summit provides you with views of every type of nature you could imagine. One view looked straight over the water, another out into pastoral farmland, another the mountains, another the town of Bray. It was one of those "So THIS is studying abroad" moments. After taking the required pictures we sat ourselves down and breathed in Ireland. It was nice.
I then looked at Brigid and realized she had just climbed the mountain in bedroom slippers. She claimed they were Uggs...I disagreed. Crazy kid.
Our descent down was breathtaking in an entirely different way, as we basically slid down slides of mud, rocks and roots to the bottom. Silently praying for our lives the whole way. After grabbing some fish and chips we hopped on the train back to the city. We took a quick stop in the town of Dun Laoghaire (pronounced Dunn Leary) for a look around. Its usually a quaint fishing village, but when we were there the weather had turned and it was cold and rainy. Oh well.
A nice trip that I'll be taking again.

UCD Elections, Crazier Than *insert least favorite US Candidate Here*

Before we get to the bulk of the blog I have some business to attend to. Due to miscommunications the first half of my spring break plans have fallen through. I now have a non-refundable ticket to London that can be changed to a ticket to anywhere in Europe I want to go. If any of my readers (preferably people I know) are in Europe anywhere between the 7th and the 15th, or would enjoy coming to Europe that week, let me know and I'll come visit. Doesn't have to be the whole week, just a few days. 

Now, on to my new favorite reason to go to class, the UCD student government elections!

I first became aware that it was election week when millions of posters with peoples heads began staring at me as I walked to class. Each poster follows the same pattern, oversized headshot taken a bit too close superimposed over a picture of an iconic UCD location. Alright, I thought, this could be interesting.

I then get to class and sit down in the lecture hall. Suddenly there is a person in front of the room yelling at warp speed at all of us. Turns out they are a candidate campaigning and are desperately trying to get their statement in before class begins. Unfortunately between the accent and warp speed I hear nothing other than "judge me based on the shirt that I'm wearing". So I do. 

At this time I begin to take stock of the flyers lying around on the desktops. Everyday there are different handouts and special offers for clubs littering the room. I usually grab a bunch for paper cuttings as the paper is excellent thickness. So I noticed that todays flyers are different colors, which obviously makes me happy, so I go to grab some. I then see those same giant heads staring up at me. Ah, election flyers.

I now present to you a run down of my favorite candidates and what their flyers promised they will bring to UCD

In a failing effort to make this blog less google-able I won't use last names.

First I want to note how the two female candidates include pictures of themselves on the back in poses that are most likely going for "sexy". Both fail. As much as I hate being a feminist....I can't help but be mildly offended at this tactic

Next we have Conor, running for Welfare Office. Conor says we should vote for him because his moms are lesbians

Then there's Rory. I was having trouble finding anything too hysterical about Rory's flyer, until I turned it over and found that he had illustrated one of his points with stick figures holding signs. Touche, Rory, touche.

Moving on to Conor. Different than Conor number 1, running for the same position. No word on his parents. Conor is running on the platform that he will put toasters in every building and increase condom distribution. Not going to lie, I have become an absolute toast addict over here. Bryn Mawr should follow Conor's plan.

Now for Paul. I like Paul, I've heard his speech twice. Unfortunately he got his classes mixed up and gave the same speech to the same class twice. I don't appreciate people with poor time management skills. Paul also lays out his goals for each individual school at UCD. Each school, such as Arts and Sciences, has specific goals that he wants to reach involving courses, professors, etc. His goal for engineering? More couches. 

Moving on to Scottie. I havn't found a leaflet for Scottie yet. But his name's Scottie! So I think he has my vote.....speaking of which I don't think I get a vote. 

Finally theres the kid who showed up at my door last night. He is the kid with the biggest head on all of the posters, yet I do not know his name. I opened my door and he smiles and says "Hey! I know you, you're in my English class" before I could say "no...I'm definitely not.." he launched into his campaign speech. Across the hall another American was getting the same speech from one of this kids cronies. The two Irish kids rapidly talking in such a confined tiled space was like noise entering one ear and rattling around like the last kernel of unpopped popcorn. I'm still uneasy answering my door, afraid I'll be thrown into the vortex again. 

I handed in my midterm this morning, so now I'm ready to go enjoy the weekend. 

I should also note this quote as a follow up to my last post

While giving my presentation

Me: The largest forestry company in Ireland is......*long pause*

Class: *snicker*

Random kid in the back of the room: Come on! You can do it! 

Me: Quel....cha?

Class: HOORAY!!!! 

Professor: heyyyyyyy, not bad!

I then cracked a joke about America and did a dance about a tree....I was on fire. My group was appalled. 

EDIT!

WOW! I forgot to post about my FAVORITE candidate, Gary. Maybe I thought he needed his own entry.

Anyway, Gary is running for what I can only assume is the social committee. His main platform? If elected he will get Eiffel 65 to perform at UCD. Yes, the people who sang that Blue song in 7th grade. You might say "Well Marianna, maybe they're still big in Europe" Nope, he feels that our current acts are too new and exciting, he feels that we need to bring the 90's back. 

The Irish are Sick of Harry Potter References

While working on a group project

Irish Girl: Make sure you talk about (mumbles something that sounds like quilch)

Me: I'm sorry, did you say I should talk about quiddich?

Group: *death stares*

Irish Girl: No, Quilch....C-O-I-L-L-T-E

Gaelic makes my last name look completely pronouncable

Give Me Flowers or Give Me Kilts!

I believe a photo montage is the best way to begin the explanation of my weekend...

It was a 6 Nations Rugby Weekend! Ireland vs. Scotland!

Now for the story.

My friend Liz from Bryn Mawr is spending the semester in Galway. We planned to get together this weekend in Dublin for general merrymaking. Liz called to say that she would be arriving around 1 on Friday, so I took myself into the city to meet her. While there I saw a couple people wearing kilts, but figured it was just a tour group of some kind. I then turned a corner and saw that they city was FILLED with men wearing kilts. It was like my experience with the Brazil-Ireland soccer match, only on crack. I stopped in my tracks and thought "oh...this is going to be a GREAT weekend". 

After finding Liz we walked around the city. I must admit I was a horrible tour guide because I kept muttering "ooo, another one!" anytime a group came by. Instead of pointing out my favorite Dublin sites, I pointed out anyone wearing any form of tartan I could find. Dogs included. We went back to UCD to drop off her stuff, but decided that we had to go back into the city that night in order to watch the match and be with as many kilted men as we could. Imagine our surprise when we got home and found out that the match wasn't until Saturday! We sat in silence for a second until Liz said 

"Well you know what this means.....its going to be AMAZING tomorrow"

and it was.

We went into the city around noon and it was as if Christmas had come early. Everywhere we looked groups of gorgeous men (annnnnnd not so gorgeous men, but we'll let that one go) were parading around in kilts. We sat ourselves down at a coffee shop on Grafton St and watched the entertainment. 

However kilt watching can quickly become sketchy, so we decided to head out and do some touristy things. I had asked Liz what she wanted to do 

Liz: "Well, everyone says I should go to the Guinness Factory..."

Me ".......offffffffff course...........lets...er...go...there..."

Liz:" But what I really want to do is go to Kilmainham Gaol (jail)"

I was pumped, Kilmainham Gaol was on the top of my "To Do" list. So we hopped on the bus out to the Gaol (henceforth referred to as the jail). The jail is extremely important to Irish history as it played a huge role in the 1916 uprising. It is also an amazing building. Here are some pictures

After leaving the jail we walked across the street to the Museum of Modern Art. This is housed in an old building which I heard was either the old military hospital or barracks. The museum itself is fairly small, and everything you'd expect a modern art museum to be. Lots of white walls, pretentious video art, etc. They are my new favorite place for one reason, however. They have a craft room. Thats right, you walk in and there is a closet full of paper and glitter and scissors and everything for you to go nuts with...oh and I did. Lets just say I finally have an exhibit of my paper cuttings at a museum. 

Liz works on her saran wrap flowers
Cutting paper...as per usual
My exhibit, now on display at the Dublin Museum of Modern Art
A few additional pieces of mine
With my exhibit

As much as we loved the craft room, it was approaching kick off (is that what it's called?) for the rugby match, so we had to get back to town. After careful deliberation we decided that since we were looking for as many people in kilts as we could find, the touristy sections were where we needed to be. Onward to Temple Bar!

We stopped first in the most touristy of the Temple Bar bars, Oliver St John Gogertys. Unfortunately it was filled with people who had the same idea as us. Everyone wanted to watch people watch rugby...so everyone just sort of stared at each other. It was awkward. So we went to the other touristy bar, THE Temple Bar. Here we only found 2 guys in kilts, but the atmosphere was a little more lively. So Liz and I grabbed a pint and stood around watching rugby. It was at this point that I realized I had NO clue how rugby is played. Zero, nilch, none. Also, football players are pansies. Rugby players would take hits and I would cry out WHOA! and everyone would just stare at me, as if to say "what...that? He's breathing, he's fine"

Needless to say I left that pub a rugby fan. GOOD TIMES. After the game Liz and I continued our kilt scavenger hunt, before returning home for a good nights sleep. 

Liz was leaving this afternoon, but we decided to hit up the Dublin Film Festival before she left. So one more trip to the city was in order. Once there, MORE KILTS! Ok people, did you not remember to bring pants? Our kilt hunt ended with this picture

As the guys caught us taking their picture and then we had to endure 30 seconds of awkward eye contact. Kilt hunting was officially over. Oh well. It was fun.

The movie was lame. It was called "Mr. Lonely" and was about a colony of celebrity impersonators. Do not recommend. 

Oh! Ireland won the rugby match by the way. Woooo!

Well I Know in America We Lie When We Don't Know the Answer....

I think one of my favorite things about Ireland is the fact that I can sound like an expert on topics that I know nothing about. In order to accomplish this, I just need to begin a sentence with "Well I know in America we..." and suddenly I have all the answers. I have so far been asked for an expert opinion on the following: The Amish, marriage and age of consent laws and organic farming. 

This does not apply to the US election. So far any discussion on that with the Irish has ended with me cringing in embarrassment mumbling "err, well, you sure have researched this...who am I voting for? Uhh, look over there!"

Old Man Pete Comes to Visit!

My dad was in London this week for various reasons so he was able to pop over for a quick weekend visit to check in on me.

I ran across the street to his hotel at noon on Saturday to meet him there. After checking at the desk I was told that he hadn't checked in yet. The sofas in the lobby were looking comfortable so I settled myself in. Interesting characters were in the hotel that morning, including a team of some sort, I believe field hockey, but I can't be certain. Now they were some attractive men. They filed out of the hotel restaurant wearing their team blazers and ties, athletic bags slung over their shoulders, hair nicely kept. So dad was a few minutes late, with people like that milling around the lobby, I could wait.

After they left and Dad still wasn't there, things were no longer as fantastic. To top it off the desk clerk was starting to stare at me suspiciously. While I couldn't find anything in the lobby particularly stealable, I'm pretty sure he was convinced I was going to try and make off with something before the morning was out. 

An hour and 15 minutes later Dad came bustling into the lobby, muttering something about damn Irish air traffic controllers. Seemed like a reasonable excuse for being late.

After getting to his room Dad unloaded his bag, which was basically filled with stuff for me. WIN. Including various hotel soaps and shampoos that he had collected along the way. Also included, a bag of chocolate milk mix that he suggested I use for "bartering". I was too busy eyeing the box of Girl Scout cookies to fully recognize the ridiculousness of that idea and eagerly accepted it. 

We set out for City Center with the initial plan of getting my mother a Valentines Day gift. After visiting countless (well...2.5) museum shops (not museums, however) he found what he was looking for. So the day was declared a success at the early hour of 2 o clock. A celebratory trip to the Chester Beatty Library was then in order. I found the informative video about Chester Beatty to be more interesting than the library (which is a great collection of oriental and middle east religious items, very interesting in itself). Lets not lie, I found the amazing half sombrero, half ten gallon hat that Mr. Beatty was so found of wearing throughout the video to be the best part. 

After a nice trip through St Stephens Green we decided to head out for dinner. Dad produced two pamphlets that he had picked up some where that promised a free pint with dinner at a restaurant in Temple Bar. Works for me! So off we went.

After that we returned to Dublin 4 and Dad went to bed while I walked to Donnybrook with some friends to hang out at a pub. 

The next day we were up early and on our way to Howth, a fishing village to the north of Dublin. Our first stop was the Sunday Market for some scones and tea. We then went down to the waterfront to enjoy them, stopping to watch the seals frolic along the way. We explored the village some more before grabbing some lunch from the Lebanese food stand. We had to head back to Dublin after lunch so that Dad could catch his flight back to London.

The interesting thing about Howth was the lack of English speaking people. I heard Spanish, Polish, French and other assorted languages, but barely any English. Even the English-speaking Irish had such thick accents that it needed subtitles. 

The first half of the semester is almost done (wow, fast) so I will be doing some work this week...ick. I'm also finishing up my spring break plans, which will be spent in Italy. So look forward to entries on that in the coming days!

Scenes of Howth
Ask Dad for the name of the island...and what early settlers used it for
Beach
Sail boats ready for use
Proof that I am actually in Ireland!
The Harbor
I thought it was a pretty picture...
Hey look! A book sale! They're like crack to Dad
Dad: "Wow, look at all those cranes, give me your camera!"

Not sure why......

Thats just beautiful

One Month In: Reflections

Things I thought I would know already that I don't:

-My Cell Phone Number

-This is always awkward when I'm filling out forms and such and they ask for my number. I then subtly say "uh, hold on" whip out my phone and check under "Me" in my phonebook. Needless to say the Garda was less than amused, and I'm pretty sure they think I gave a phoney number.

-My Class Schedule

-You know how in the US where most classes meet at the same time each day that they're offered, in the same place? Yea, not so much here. I could have class one day at 11 in Theater M, then the same class another day at 2, in the Engineering building. Also, some have tutorials and small groups that meet during "week 21 and 30". I have no clue what the weeks are, so everyday when I go to bed I have to open up my schedule, find out when I have to wake up, then check again in the morning. 

-How much I have to pay to get to City Centre on the bus

-The official charge is 1.70, although others have told me that if you say 1.50 they'll let you go for that. I have no spine and am too afraid of being kicked off the bus to try it.

-The name of that SONG

-Theres a song that they go nuts for over here, and the main chorus is just everyone singing "Doo, doodoo doo, doodoodoo, doo doo doodoo doodoo" which of course is un-googleable. But its catchy. If that sounds familiar to anyone, please tell me

That leads me to my next list

Top 5 Songs That the Irish Go Crazy For

1. Soulja Boy

2. ANYTHING by Journey, they freaking love Journey

3. Doo, doodoo doo, doodoodoo, doo doo doodoo doodoo

4. Piece of Me by Brittney Spears

5. Don't Look Back in Anger-Oasis

Top 5 Irish Phrases

1. Craic-pronounced Crack

-Whats the craic-Whats up

-That was a good craic-That was a good time

2. Locked

-Don't mind him, he's locked-He's drunk

3. Splendid

-Same usage as in America, but far more frequently used.

4. D4

-Fake tan, ironed hair, she's a D4

-Not, as I had hoped, the long awaited fourth Mighty Ducks Movie

-Refers to Dublin 4, aka where I am right now, and the trashy girls that live here

5. Knackered

-Man, I'm knackered-I'm sleepy

-So much more fun to say than "I'm sleepy"