Classes

The West Wing. 

I am now into the third week of the Irish semester, and I am LOVING my classes.

Having amassed an large quantity of AP credits in high school, I now have an extra year worth of credits to play with and decided to use this semester for courses outside my major.  My interests are extremely varied, and this seemed the perfect opportunity to take things that sounded intriguing and that I wouldn't be able to study in the States.  (I also arranged my schedule to maximize weekend time and allow for more travel opportunity.  Of course.)

My first class is The Archaeology of the Early Irish Church, a third-year archaeology course.  It's taught by Thomas, which was one of my two reasons for choosing it.  The other is my love of the book The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet, a historical novel about the building of a cathedral in Britain in the 12th century.  It's a quite long but very enjoyable read.  If you like the middle ages, read it.

My second course is an introductory Folklore class.  Yesterday, we spent an hour talking about genres of stories and then our professor, who grew up speaking Irish and has a beautiful, thick accent, read a story aloud to us.  He has also said several times he may sing to us later in the semester when we discuss the use of song in Irish tradition.  I, of course, am over the moon.  There is very little I like more than being sung or read to.

UCC crest in the West Wing.

My third course is an introduction to Irish history from the Famine Period to the present.  I've now had three two-hour lectures for that course.  The first two were amazing and focused on the Famine and its surrounding politics.  The third, with a different lecturer, left a lot to be desired.  My only real complaint, however, is the sheer size of the lecture and the largely inconsiderate group of talkers who insist on sitting in the middle of the lecture hall such that their continual whispering infiltrates the entire room. 

 

My fourth course is entitled Celtic Saints and is taught by the cutest old woman.  She is slow as molasses and her hands shake when she moves, but she has the snarkiest attitude known to man.  When she lectures, I feel more like I'm being told a fascinating story rather than an informational lecture.  I love it.

My final course is called Magic and Religion in Reformation Europe: Witches, Demons, Heretics, and Jews.  Needless to say, I picked this course solely on the title and was determined to take it even before I read the course description.  It's got "magic" in the title.  Did I have a choice?  It has proven to be every bit as fascinating as I had hoped.  Our lectures so far have consisted of background information on Christian Europe prior to the Reformation.  Our professor is an extremely dorky but rather brilliant man who has a very large ego.  While his self-assurance might bother some students, I simply find it humorous.  And his lectures are great, so I don't see how anyone could really complain.

Crossing the River Lee onto campus.

In sum, my classes this semester are wonderful, and my love of UCC continues.   

Slán agus beannacht leat.

Home

I've been in Cork now for just over one month.  Time is slipping away far too quickly.  As all of you know from my continued enthusiasm, I love it here.  From the first moment I stepped off the plane to this very minute, sitting at my desk and looking out my window, I feel that I am home.

I've been a lot of places that I've loved, but I can't remember any other that gave me the heartwarming, sense of calm and happiness you get when you come home.  Not so immediately.  I am constantly in a state of peace and joy here.  If home is where the heart is, then I've found my heart here in Ireland.

I've been trying to articulate why I've loved my archaeology class so much because it reflects, I believe, why I love Ireland, but I am still unable to find the right words.  The best I can do at this moment is to say that there is simply something spectacular about standing on the same land your ancestors stood on thousands of years ago.  Of looking at the very beginnings of tools and technology and towns.  Of standing in a Cathedral, looking up at a vaulted ceiling high above your head and knowing that decades of love and care were spent by people to build the space now around you.

I'm rambling now, and so I will quickly end this post.  But I would like to make it known that Ireland is a very special country.  If ever you have a chance, visit.  Perhaps it will be home for you as well.

Always, slán agus beannacht leat.

Caves and Cashels

Me in the wedge tomb.

For our third field trip, we took a day trip through North Cork to the Rock of Cashel. Our first stop of the day was the Labbacallee Wedge Tomb, built in the Copper Age.  When it was excavated in 1934, the remains of a woman were found along with fragments of late neolithic pottery.  As we walked around the tomb, I asked Thomás if we could go inside.  He grinned and said something about it not being safe before hopping in through an opening and beckoning me in after him. 

After the tomb, we stopped at Mitchelstown Caves.  They don't have true archaeological significance, but they are brilliant and Thomás figured we'd enjoy them.  The air in the caves was the cleanest, purest air I have ever breathed.  The guide told us that some hospitals in Europe are actually built in caves to help treat patients with lung problems.  The other incredible aspect of the caves is their acoustics.  Concerts are occasionally held in the caves because the sound travels so well through the different chambers.

The Gothic Cathedral.

In the afternoon, we went to the Rock of Cashel.  Cormac's Chapel, built by the McCarthy family in the twelfth century is one of the earliest Romanesque churches in Ireland and retains some of the only frescos painted in Ireland at the time.  Built right next to Cormac's Chapel as a power play by the O'Brien family is a much grander thirteenth century cathedral in the Gothic style.  

The most spectacular aspect of the afternoon was the view from the top of the Rock of Cashel.  It overlooks the Tipperary plain and the extent of the view is marvelous.  Plus, we happened to be there during one of the few sunny hours and had the chance to bask in the landscape under the pure blue sky.

View from the Rock of Cashel. My friend Heather in the foreground.

~Slán agus beannacht leat

Field Trip #2: Newgrange

After a fancy dinner and a stay in Barnacle's hostel, my class left Dublin and headed north to the Boyne Valley for a visit to Newgrange, a world heritage site.

Newgrange from a distance.

Newgrange is a passage tomb built in the Neolithic period.  Older than England's Stonehenge and the Giza Pyramid in Egypt, Newgrange has been a site of pilgrimage for thousands of years.  During excavations, Roman coins were found strewn around the mound, suggesting the fascination with the site even in the early centuries A.D.

To give you an idea of the tomb, it is 250 feet in diameter and covers just over an acre.  The inner passage stretches about a third of the way into the mound and then opens into a central chamber which has three smaller chambers surrounding it.   Under natural conditions, the chamber is pitch black, but on the winter solstice, the sun shines directly through a hole above the tomb's entrance, up the sloped passage, and illuminates the central chamber.

There's something indescribable about the majesty of Newgrange.  We can't know for sure what it was used for, but it's widely thought to have had religious significance.  Perhaps the neolithic people had a religious connection to the sun.  Our tour guide told a story of people who believed the winter solstice was a day of renewal and a day when the earth and the sun became one.

The entrance stone stands in front of the entrance and the roof box.

I am extremely lucky to have visited Newgrange.  Thomas had to book the trip seven months in advance.  As part of our visit, we got to enter the tomb and watch a demonstration of the winter solstice.  As the light crept up the passage, I got chills.  I can only imagine what it would feel like to stand in that passage during the solstice and experience the real thing.

No one who enters Newgrange would be able to say they don't feel something.  Whether it's simply amazement or it's a connection to something greater than yourself.  For me, it was just utter awe at the engineering capabilities and beautiful craftsmanship of a people who didn't have technology of any kind.  Not even the wheel.  Not even large mammals to help cart the stone, all of which had to be brought to the Boyne Valley.  There is no mortar, nothing to hold the inner chamber's beautiful vaulted ceiling together, nothing except the perfect selection of stone and the pressure of the mound above.

Words do not do it justice.  Pictures cannot do it justice.  It truly is and was something I had to experience, and I know I will remember it the rest of my life.

Slán agus beannacht leat.

Field Trip # 2, Day One in Dublin

The second week in my archaeology class, we took a trip up to Dublin and to several sites around County Meath.  Thomas's wife was expecting a baby (who was born the following Tuesday) so another professor, John Sheehan, Viking Extraordinaire, accompanied our class instead.

St. Patrick's Bellshrine.

In Dublin, we visited the National Museum of Archaeology and History.  There, John told us to ignore the "No Photography" sign and to take pictures sans flash when the guards weren't looking.  His snarkiness continued as he led us through the museum and talked about different displays, poking fun at what we did and didn't know and at Thomas's usual giddy excitement over certain topics.  His lecturing style is completely opposite from Thomas's, but I love him just the same.  Where Thomas is loud, excited, and generally jolly about things, John is dry, soft-spoken, and quite sarcastic.  Thomas had warned us to beware his temper, as John is recently "off the fags."

John talks about Dubhlinn.

After the museum, we walked through Dublin and John told us the history and took us to various spots that had been famous for the Vikings, including what is now a garden but used to be Dubhlinn (pronounced "duvlin"), a lake around which the Vikings first built the city.  After a pit-stop for lunch in a beautiful restaurant, we headed to Christchurch Cathedral.

Once again, John's delightful snark made itself known as he pointed out the way the nave leans to one side, an indication that it will collapse in time.  He then beckoned us in closer and informed us it had happened once before, destroying the pilgrimage tomb of Strongbow.  The tomb now housed there is a fake.  Well, it's real, but it's not Strongbow's.  Awkward...

Cat and Rat.

The Cathedral itself is beautiful.  Small compared to several I've seen (i.e. Notre Dame) but still lovely.  Beneath Christchurch is an impressive collection of artifacts, including the infamous "Cat and Rat" which were found completely preserved in an organ pipe and are referred to in James Joyce's "Finnegan's Wake."

This post is getting too long now, so I'll share the rest of the trip next time.  As always, slán agus beannacht leat.

 

Making an Irish Meal

My second week in Cork, several friends (Connor, Allyson, Sally, J.J) and I started a tradition of Sunday family dinners.  We figured it'd be a nice way to create a family atmosphere amongst strangers.  We take turns hosting the meal and cooking the main course.  Anyone/everyone is invited and the only rule is that you have to bring something to share-a salad, dessert, wine, etc.

This week, I volunteered to host because I was itching to try out an Irish recipe: Guinness Stew.  I simplified and combined several recipes I found and ended up making a pretty successful dinner of Guinness Stew and Colcannon (an Irish potato and cabbage dish).

To make the stew, I browned 3 lbs of cubed beef in olive oil with thyme, sage, salt, and pepper.  Then I let it stew in a pint of Guinness with carrots, onions, garlic, and several other spices until the vegetables softened.

For the Colcannon, I enlisted Connor's help to peel and slice potatoes which he boiled and mashed while I cooked the cabbage.  Then we combined the two with garlic, salt, pepper, butter, milk, and fresh parsley.

We served the meal with a loaf of fresh local bread, brought by our friend Allyson and a salad from Sally.  J. J. supplied wine and a coffee-flavored cake for desert.  

Butter and Jail: Just Your Typical Day

Butter through the ages.

Hello again!  I seem to be getting behind in my posts, so they will necessarily become less detailed as the semester progresses.  I've now been in Cork for two weeks, though it feels like much longer.  Every day is a new adventure, yet it feels like a little bit of me has always been here.  A lot has happened in the past two weeks, but here's a few of the highlights.

     Last Saturday, I went with a few friends to the Cork Butter Museum.  Ireland is huge on the dairy front, in case you didn't know.  Every time I've traveled outside of Cork, I've passed dozens of dairy farms.  There are cows everywhere.  Anyway, the Butter Museum was a fun and quick thing to do in Cork.  The man gave us an extra discount off of the student ticket price, which was an added bonus.

The west wing of the jail.

     After the Butter Museum, we hiked up on the north side of the city to the Cork Gaol (Jail).  For 7 euro, we were able to do an audio tour of the gaol which was fascinating.  If you come to Cork for one day, visit the gaol and heritage center.  The cells are set up with life-size wax figures and the audio guide tells the real-life stories of prisoners past.

     Saturday night, I went out with a bunch of people from my program.  We went to a pub called The Washington Inn and later to An Brog, which becomes a nightclub on the weekends.

    Sunday, I spent the day in the city center with a couple friends.  We did a little shopping and went out to lunch at a lovely cafe.

      Well, that's it for now.  Till next time, slán agus beannacht leat.