Military Presence

I was chatting with a fellow post-doc who is from Ireland. He was telling me of his recent journey to the US, and how he was so fascinated/bewildered/intrigued/mystified by the strong military presence he saw. Well, first he was at a conference attended by many persons serving in the military, and it was his first time to ever see representatives from a country’s armed forces in person. Ireland is such a small, neutral country that one is not exposed to this atmosphere.

Furthermore, the “garda” or police force in Ireland or the UK, does not carry guns, so whenever he saw policemen and such with guns on their belts, he was amazed.

Then in the four airports through which he traveled, he repeatedly saw signs welcoming home the troops. He said to me, “I then remembered that you all are at war!” The way he said it was actually quite piercing and sorrowful. Yes, we have been at war for 6 years now. And yes, many of us forget or lose touch with the larger picture of what is happening around the world and within so many families. This mentality of having troops overseas has become the norm and mentality of a generation of people in the US. It permeates the media and social affairs so much, it’s difficult to realize that in some places like Ireland, everyday life is quite oblivious to the war that is being fought and all the lives that are being affected.

The Angelus

Every day at noon and 6pm, on RTE, the Irish broadcasting station, there is time taken out for the Angelus. The sound of ringing church bells can be heard and images of people in their various professions and activities in the day taking a pause to pray or reflect can be seen on the television. These are two times during the day when all the people of Ireland are encouraged to pause and acknowledge God and refocus the pattern of their lives consistent with their faith.

Wow. I was completely startled to first experience this in none other than a pub with colleagues after work! Well, okay, here in Dublin, there wasn’t a complete observance of it. But those with me swore that when they were in Donegal (in the country, out west), men were around having their drinks and good craic, and then complete silence filled the room as everyone reflected, some pulling out their rosary beads, etc.

This is Ireland…but not for long. Every year there is a push to remove the Angelus from RTE’s broadcasting, but it gets swept under the rug. There have also been protests about having advertisements with a “crib” (a nativity scene—they call it a crib here), although on O’Connell Street, one of the main thoroughfares of Dublin, there is a large nativity scene next to the Christmas tree in the center section of the divided road.

Christmas in Towns

In Ireland, all the local towns and communities have their main street decorated for Christmas. This means that every 1-2 miles (for this is how quickly one community village becomes the next) you see the lights strung across the shops and café, greenery around the lamp posts, a Christmas tree at the main intersection, and festive decorations and lights streaming across the street reading “Nollaig shona duit” which is Happy Christmas in Irish.

However, it is not common for families to decorate their homes beyond perhaps a simple string of lights and a wreath on the door. None of the extravagant, coordinated neighborhood lighted home shows with moving figures and trees covered in lights that have become so popular in the States.

On the other hand, Christmas trees are seen everywhere. My office building has a tree in the lobby, then in the main entrance to our floor/institute, then in the lounge/dining area, etc. I was a bit surprised at first, but I do find it refreshing to be able to celebrate Christmas overtly again. The university’s school of mathematical sciences had a Christmas party, then the cryptographic institute had a Christmas party, then our building of collaborative research had a Christmas party—never once called “holiday parties.” Yes, while this is a professional work environment, with few actively religious folk, everyone is eager to say “Happy Christmas,” rather than the ambiguous “Happy Holidays” that has become the norm in the US, as the average person there must pretend that Christmas is not a part of the culture she has grown up in…

Various words

I have various words that have come up in conversation that I'd like to point out...

1) People often say something like "She gave out to me all day," or "There will be no giving out while I'm here."

To "give out" means to ridicule or complain about someone to their face, basically to give them a hard time.

2) A mother might ask her child to do the "hoovering," or one might hear teens complaining about having to "hoover" when they get home.

Hoovering means vacuuming. I guess folks use Hoover vacuum cleaners here, in the same sense folks use Kleenex in the US. :)

3) I've had friends ask if they could "call on" me, or suggest that I "call in" on so-and-so.

This does not mean to ring someone and has nothing to do with phones. It refers to stopping by someone's home, to visit them in person. It's like the old-fashioned speak...makes me think of Andy Griffith and Barney Fife "calling on" their girls.

4) Calling someone "Love" is extremely common--strangers will call you that in the stores or in whatever random interaction. Startled me at first, but now it's kind of cute, makes us all seem like a tight-knit community. In the post office, the person will ask, "What can I do for you, Love?" or "To post that will be 1 euro, Love." Or in a shop when someone needs to squeeze past you, they'll say, "Excuse me, Love."

5) I got the following text on my phone from a girl at work:
"Morning Love, I forgot that I was invigilating today, so I won't be seeing you until tomorrow."

I don't know about you, but I had no idea what it meant to "invigilate." I had to look it up.

It is what we would call in the US to "proctor"--basically, to supervise students taking an exam.

6) This is isn't a word, but a pronunciation: "r" is pronounced by the Irish as "Oh-are." Very obvious. As a mathematician, often using variables including "r," it definitely took me time and effort to interpret some of the talks. I had already anticipated the use of "zed" instead of "z," but "oh-are" was unexpected.

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time"

I just finished a book by British author Mark Haddon, titled "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time," published in 2003. It is written from the perspective of a 15 year-old autistic savant, Christopher. Wow, it is an incredible book, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It is very insightful into the thought process, emotional and behavioral challenges of some autistic kids.
Christopher is a genius who loves mathematics, so it is filled with mathematical references and outlook on life. I was in heaven! It is also very witty, I found myself bursting out in audible laughter on the bus! (At times because I could frightfully identify with some of the kid's tendencies...) There is also a mystery involved, and a tear-jerker part of the story (ironic, since the boy is incapable of processing emotion)...I confess I shed a few tears on the bus as well.

Anyhow at the beginning of the book, Christopher writes, "Prime numbers are what is left when you have taken all the patterns away. I think prime numbers are like life. They are very logical but you could never work out the rules, even if you spent all your time thinking about them. "

Since my research is relies on the properties of prime numbers, this quote especially resonated with me.

Later Christopher tells a joke, something to the effect of the following:

There are 3 men on a train. One is an economist, one a logician and one a mathematician. They have just arrived in Ireland and see a brown cow standing in a field from the window of the train (and the cow is standing parallel to the train).

The economist says, ‘Look, the cows in Ireland are brown.”

The Logician says, “No. There are cows in Ireland of which one, at least, is brown.”

The Mathematician says, “No. There is at least one cow in Ireland of which one side appears to be brown.”

Christopher explains, "It is funny because economists are not real scientists, and because logicians think more clearly, but mathematicians are best."

Oh yes. :)

Christmas Pudding, Mince Pies, and Mulled Wine

There is a very serious tradition of eating Christmas pudding and mince pies during the month of December, and drinking mulled wine. I have been to 6 Christmas parties (yes, we all know the Irish love a reason to celebrate...) and the standard dessert is mince pie.

So what are these edible traditions?

Christmas pudding may also be referred to as "plum pudding" and comes from the British traditions. When Americans hear "pudding," we think of a custard-like substance--creamy and dairy-based. However, pudding here contains no dairy whatsoever, and is more like a cake/bready thing. It is a mixture of raisins, currants, sultanas, and other dried fruits, with some flour/bread that is steamed for 3+ hours, so that it thickens and all congeals together. It is eaten warm with a brandy cream sauce (which is incredibly tasty...).

Now then, mince pies... I kept hearing reference to mince pies and seeing it on invitations, but I was confused...for isn't mince like ground meat?? So I had images of shepherd's pie or something being served for dessert and did not find it appealing at all. However, in this context, the mincemeat filling (yes, it is even called that in recipes) consists of no meat at all, but rather minced ingredients: raisins, currants, sultanas, apples, orange rind, with cinnamon and spices placed inside individual shortbread pastry crusts, with crust on the top as well. These are actually quite nice on a cold winter evening (which begins at 4pm now...) with coffee or tea.

I was at an outdoor market and a man was selling homemade mince pies. I asked him what I was eating (before I knew the ingredients), and he replied "Tradition." Yes, this is a deeply accurate statement.

Mulled wine is red wine combined with spices and served warm, a nice complement to the mince pies at evening Christmas parties. Lots'o'cheer at this time of year!

Banking Issues Again...

I got form in the mail with the title "Fee Advice," and it details all the transaction fees on my bank account for this quarter. They charged me .20 for every single transaction I made with my debit card the past three months--which I use every time I buy groceries, bus passes, etc. Then .20 for each ATM withdrawal, regardless of whether or not it was one of my bank's machines or not. Then .20 for each automated deposit of my payroll, .20 for automated withdrawals for my broadband payments, .20 for the use of internet banking, .30 for each check written or cashed, and 4.50 for general account maintenance.

(Yes, per check...makes me not want to write my friends, church or charity a check but rather give cash, out of principle. I hate throwing money away to nebulous, bureaucratic, administrative entities...)

I went into the bank and questioned the charges. They said I should have read the fine print in the brochure and contract before I signed on. Of course. It's my fault indeed, and they had no mercy.

However, in the future, all these fees can be waived if I simply "top-up" my phone once a quarter--which means put more credit on my pay-as-you-go plan. Easy enough, will do, lesson learned!

Christmas break

People here really know how to take a break.

As I've already mentioned, no one works on the weekends, and in fact I've gotten quite horrified looks when I've mentioned being in the office on a Saturday. (But hey, I'm making up for hours missed while doing long runs in the daylight hours during the week.) It is a great feeling to not feel expected to tell the boss on a Friday that "I'll get on that this weekend and give it to you on Monday."

Okay, so the above simply suggests that they know how to maintain boundaries in their personal and professional lives. But it gets better...

The university of 20,000+ students literally shuts down from Dec. 22-Jan 5 and goes to great lengths to discourage, well down-right prevent, persons from attempting to work during these Christmas holidays. I've heard stories of how in the past the university officials had all the heating in the buildings turned off and this was enough to ensure no one came to work. Then they started locking the doors to the buildings, but I know some professors who still got in to do their final exam grading. However, when the doors to the toilets began being locked, then that was the last straw. No one can be spotted on campus for these 2 weeks now.

Oh, and lest you think this is only in the academic world, I have been told by many that during the full week between Christmas and New Year's, all the shops, cafes and such will be closed as well.

Local Lollipop Lady

She wears a bright neon yellow trench coat that reaches down to the ground, a neon yellow cap, and carries a stop sign that is a lemon-er, neon--yellow circle atop a long candy-striped pole.

So she looks like a local lollipop lady. She's actually an official school crossing guard. I see her every morning when I go running and need to cross at her section of the road (it's not at an intersection). We now have nice visits while we wait for a break in the cars. She's very Irish, it's amusing to hear the way she talks (not merely the accent, but also the speech pattern and word choices), and I know all about her family, hobbies and such.

Yes, it's rather fun seeing a familiar face and having a chat in the morning, especially with the local lollipop lady!

More words explained...

A friend was giving me a ride the other day and she suggested I put my violin in the boot.

Ah-ha! I knew now what this meant (see a previous blog post), so I put the instrument in the trunk of her car.

I remarked on the translation that took place in my head and ask her what the name of the front of the car is (what we in the States would call the "hood"). Do you know what it is?

The bonnet.

Hahaha, I couldn't help but chuckle. Suddenly an aspect of a car that is often associated with masculine activity--working on the engine, etc. "under the hood"--now brings to my mind the image of...well, girls, elderly ladies, or nursery rhymes.

My friend then mentioned needing a new "jumper" and "trousers." I translated these to mean "sweater" and "pants." She responded that I am correct on the first item, but not on the second.

Pants to them mean "knickers." What are knickers? Underwear.

Okay, so a the trunk of a car is a boot, trousers are not pants, pants are knickers, knickers are underwear, and a bonnet is the hood of a car.

There's the Irish for you.

Hot Press

I was at a friend's house and passed a door with a sign "hot press."

Hmm...I first think of a printing press, such as publications being "hot off the press," but obviously that's not the context here.
Then I recall being in Japan and the hotel providing a hot press in each room. This was a ironing contraption to press one's pants. So perhaps this room was the ironing room. Nope.

My friend explained that a "hot press" is an "airing cabinet."

One needs to understand the living habits here in Ireland. Many people do not use a dryer for their clothes. They will use a washing machine and then air dry their clothes. But the climate outside is often too wet, so they need to hang inside.

So the closet with the hot water heater (not the same as the kind in the States) is where the clothes hang. Some may also be hung over the radiators in each room (houses are heated via radiators not via heaters that blow hot air as those in Texas).

In fact, the Wikipedia entry for "hot press" reads:

"A large cupboard or small room in a home where clothes, towels, bed linen etc. are placed for airing, that usually contains the hot water immersion heater. In most English speaking countries, the hot press is known as an airing cupboard; the term hot press is peculiar to Scotland and Ireland."

Note the word "peculiar." :)

Another related novelty I encountered was in a hotel on the southern coast of England last weekend. In the bathroom was a special towel rack that one turns on and it heats up to dry the towels. Brilliant.

Traffic Lights

What order do the colors appear when lit in traffic lights in the US?

Yellow-Red-Green.

I imagine this is so that when one is driving while the light is green, the driver can be cautioned by the yellow that the time to stop is fast approaching, right?

Well, here in Ireland they appear in the order

Yellow-Green-Red.

This causes drivers--99% of whom are driving manual shift cars--who are stopped at a red light to anticipate that they are about to be able to accelerate, so they get ready to undo the hand brake (which everyone is taught to use at lights), deal with the clutch, etc...

I guess this is the reason? Other suggestions?

Happy Thanksgiving!

This is my first Thanksgiving spent in the office at work and among people who have no idea that this day is typically one set apart from other days--but fear not, I baked me a sweet potato and composed a list of things I thank God for. :) Indeed, this has been quite a year, filled with blessings beyond what I could have imagined. Thanksgiving is a wonderful day set aside to cause us to pause and be thankful for all we have!

(Note: there is not really an equivalent public holiday in Ireland, although the Church of Ireland celebrates a "Harvest Sunday" in October, in which baskets of fruits are set out and folks express thanks for the bountiful harvest of the year and such.)

Colourful Autumn Leaves

The Autumn (as they say here, rather than Fall) has been absolutely lovely! Very little rain, much sun with cool air but not too chilly (about 55 degrees). Folks are saying this Autumn is so much more pleasant than the summer was. (Evidently it rained tremendously before I arrived.)

The leaves on the trees are changing colours--reds, oranges, yellows--offering beautiful panoramic scenes all about. Leaves are starting to fall on the sidewalks where I walk, allowing me to skip through the colours merrily. There is even a certain glorious aroma in the air.

Ahh, this is life, walking to work each morning in the visual and sensational beauty of the changing seasons...

More Imperial vs. Metric vs. ... Geological?

I was in the health clinic this afternoon and the doctor asked me to step on the scales. She read off "58" and returned to her desk to write it down. Obviously that's in kilograms, not pounds, so I asked if she could convert that measurement for me (I haven't weighed myself in at least 6 months, so I was curious what Ireland has done to me).

Her reply: "Oh of course. That's between 9 and 9 1/2 stones."

I chuckled. "Um, and a stone is...?"

She then laughed and said, "Oh dear, you want me to really convert it, like, into pounds, mathematically??"

So she got out her pen and paper and announced that I weighed 155 pounds.
Whoa, I was certain that was NOT correct. She had no concept of what an average girl of my size would weigh in pounds, hence did not realize that was out of the ballpark for me. I questioned her about this calculation, and her reply was:

"Are you disputing my mathematics??"

I innocently smiled. She recalculated and found that in fact, I weigh 128 pounds. Much more reasonable.

She then asked me what my height is. I replied with 5'8''.
She then stared and said, "Oh dear, you're going to make me do another conversion??"
I then realized that of course, they don't speak of height in terms of feet and inches either, but rather centimeters.

She needed to get my BMI, which turned out to be 20. (Good, acceptable range is somewhere between 19-25.)

She took my blood pressure and then looked at me: "Are you a runner?" Yes. "Your pulse is 51, so I knew you must be fit." Little did she know that I also just briskly walked at least mile in the chilling winter cold and wind...

I got my prescription, took it to the local chemist (pharmacy), and literally within 20 seconds (I timed it), I was out the door with my meds. Gotta love this local community style!

"Gorgeous"

I repeatedly hear the word "gorgeous" used not to describe the attractive *appearance* of something, but rather, the appealing *taste* of something.

"Oh my, this coffee is gorgeous!"

"Aren't those scones just gorgeous?"

"I love lollipops, they're gorgeous."

The first time I heard such a combination of object and adjective, I was startled and thought the person just choose her words poorly, but in fact, this is a standard choice, I know notice it all the time.

So I looked it up on Dictionary.com, and here's what I found:

1.	splendid or sumptuous in appearance, coloring, etc.; magnificent

2.	Informal. extremely good, enjoyable, or pleasant.

Okay, though it is *informal*, I'll grant them legitimate usage.

Halloween remnants

During my morning run (about 7:30am) through the nearby park (in the middle of a residential area), I saw the bonfire from last night still flaming! Not merely smoking, but flames. Not a person around, just a huge black circle with a fire in the center. I had this strange feeling of being taken back to the primitive days of Ireland.

As I continued the run, I passed a couple other piles of bonfire remnants, but with only smoldering coals. Meanwhile, the fireworks last night lasted from 5pm to about 9pm. Tonight I am still hearing them...it's been about 2 hours now...

The "Problem of Pain"

The "problem of pain" is one that has plagued philosophers, theologians, and well, mankind, since...the beginning...
That is, the question of how can a loving God allow such terrible pain and suffering in the world?
It's definitely something I have wrestled with over the years. Well, I'm a part of a reading group, and the book is "Where is God When it Hurts?" by Philip Yancey. So far, I'm finding it an excellent read. He starts from a scientific look at pain, from a biological standpoint. Then he progresses to nonphysical pain, and eventually proposes a distinction between "pain" and "suffering." For example, people with leprosy actually feel no pain, yet suffer terribly. On the other hand, some pain is for useful purposes and does not necessarily create real suffering.

He confronts (insufficient) answers that are often given as a blanket response to suffering, such as "God is trying to tell you something" or "you're lacking faith and have stepped outside of God's will" or "you need to learn to embrace the suffering, it's what's best for you."

I'm only a third of the way through the book, but I'm eager to continue reading and pondering. This has caused me to look forward to my bus rides!

If you're interested in discussing this topic or in finding out the author's conjecture, feel free to email me...

Television License

In Ireland, if you own a television, then you must pay a 150 euro per year fee. Simply for having one in your home--and there are officials who come knocking on your door to come inside and see if you have a t.v. with no license.

It is managed by the postal company, and here is a quote from their website explaining it:
"Under the current Wireless Telegraphy Legislation it is a prosecutable offence to be found in possession of an unlicensed television set. Fines for an unlicensed television set can be up to €635 for a first offence."

Actually, any equipment capable of receiving a television signal (using an aerial, satellite dish, cable or other means) must have a television license. So if you have the capability on your computer to receive such a signal, then you must pay. If you move homes, then you must have the address on your license changed.

Why? Well, it has something to do with the public service broadcasting delivered by RTE, the national broadcasting organization. I guess instead of being like PBS having telethons to raise money in the US, here the government requires you to fund the service. You can Google it if you're really interested in finding more about it, I'll leave the research to you.

Halloween

Last week at sunset I was running through the nearby park and discovered a group of kids building a large bonfire--complete with cardboard boxes and crates stacked high and flames waving violently. I was shocked at the sight, not to mentioned that there seemed to be no adult supervision, and considered asking the people I was passing along on the path what was going on, if someone should notify the authorities or something. However, passersby seemed unaffected, so I did nothing...as I continued, I found another group of kids shooting firecrackers (which I knew were illegal). Hmm...The next night in my evening run through a different park, I again found kids shooting firecrackers (with no adult supervision).

Soon I discovered that essentially every evening in October, one can hear the sound of firecrackers in the air, and very likely find a bonfire somewhere. As I type write now, there has been continual popping for a solid hour and a half--and the night is just beginning. So what's the story?

Why, Halloween of course. It is quite a festivity here--with not merely decorations throughout the month, but these activities with fire...in the streets of residential areas, all illegal (and dangerous?), mind you, but laws (in general) tend not to be enforced. There are also parades and fireworks displayed sponsored by communities/organizations, and of course trick-or-treating.

When I ask people about the meaning of this holiday, there are varied answers, including comments about the Festival of the Dead, the pagan history that dominated Ireland's past, about this being the day when the spiritual world is closest to the natural world, also being the day before the All Souls and All Saints Days celebrated in the Catholic Church, and also it being an effect of commercialization from the US.

Well, all I know is I'm feeling like it's a combination of the Fourth of July and the night before the Aggie-UT football game...

Pumpkins

Evidently, pumpkins only recently arrived in Ireland. Just a few years ago, they were carving jack-o-lanterns out of turnips! Yes, turnips. And forget looking for canned pumpkin in the stores--it is a staple in my pantry in the US, as I love pumpkin bread--people look at me like I'm crazy when I ask where the canned pumpkin is.
Meanwhile, this season just isn't Fall without pumpkin bread baking in the oven...so I bought a real pumpkin and made some bread from it (just to see if I could...and to save my canned pumpkin that a friend mailed me from TX for times of the year when the whole pumpkins are no longer in the stores.) It turned out okay, but a somewhat different taste and texture. I prefer the canned version, not to mention it is much easier!

Grocery Shopping

In the US, it often benefits the buy to purchase an item in larger quantities in order to get a better deal, more for their money. This is part of the concept behind Sam's Club or Costco, yes? Well, I can't trust the Irish sellers to abide by such a principle...which often catches me off guard, as their method just seems so counter-intuitive.
Here are a few examples:
1) 500g of bread flour is .87 euro. 1kg of bread flour is 2.19. Thus, I am better off buying two of the smaller bags as needed, rather than buying on larger bag.
2) 20 tea bags are 1.07 euro. 40 tea bags are 2.39 euro. Again, I am better of buying two boxes of 20 tea bags rather than one box of 40.
3) 6 eggs are .79 euro. 12 eggs are 1.69 euro. Ditto.
4) 750 g bag of frozen broccoli is 2.02 euro. 500 g bag of frozen broccoli is 2.15 euro. Now that one really doesn't make sense!

Thus I really have to watch the prices and sizes, and not assume the sellers operate on the American principles! I guess in Ireland you pay extra for the convenience of not having to return to the store as soon, whereas in the US you pay extra for have smaller portions of fresh items.

Another fact about grocery stores is that they sell out early in the day! So if you want meat or fish, you must arrive by 10am before the day's portions are sold. Also, shelves of dry goods are sparse by 4pm...you'd think we're in a Communist country! Okay, it's not that bad. :)

Bank Security

I haven't written in a long time about the banks here, though the topic dominated many of my earlier posts. Well, today I was reminded that one doesn't just walk easily into a bank. There are three doors. You press a button to enter the first door into a small enclosed area. You must wait for the door to shut behind you, followed by 3 seconds until the white light comes on in the next button in front of you. You press it and then either a red "wait" button is lit, or a greed "enter" button is lit. Then you enter into the next identical enclosed area and repeat this process in order to enter the bank.
Yes, the Irish are serious about their bank security! So much for the friendly welcoming patterns of the US banks, where coffee and treats are waiting for the customer...

Bank Holiday and Dublin Marathon

Today was a bank holiday. Not really celebrating anything in particular, just a reason for a break. (I guess when the US needs these, they tack on some meaning, such as Labor Day, President's Day, etc...but the Irish don't need a reason for good "Craic"!)*
It always falls on the last Monday of October. Actually, it's become sort of a Halloween holiday, not officially, but the timing is so near. Students (or "pupils" as they call them here) get the entire week off for mid-term break.
It's also the day that the adidas Dublin City Marathon is always held. Since I haven't trained for the race but wanted to be involved, I volunteered to "marshal" the spectators near the finish line. (I also got an awesome adidas running jacket and cap.) I've never been at the finish line of a race like this in time to see the winners. I'm either running in it, or watching a friend run somewhere else. So it was fun to see the elite runners cruise across the finish line, the first man at 2:09:07, first lady at 2:29:20. (Both were Russians...I could create a pun with that, but I won't...) It was a gorgeous day, not a cloud in the sky, and about 50 degrees.
Anyhow, seeing the look on the runners faces, looking into their eyes, was a powerful experience--there was a gradual change in the demeanor of the persons crossing as the time passed. I saw victory, focus, pride, amazement, weariness, pain, fear, laughter at the absurdity of what they've done, misery, sickness, weeping, dazed and confused, delirious, more pain. Regardless, each person who crossed that finish line is undoubtedly a transformed person after the training and accomplishment fulfilled today.

* Craic is Irish for "fun, enjoyment, light-hearted mischief".

Have a spanner?

I am borrowing a bike from a friend, and when he gave it to me, he said I might need a spanner to adjust the height of the seat. A "spanner?" The context made me know it must be a wrench, and sure enough that is correct. So add that one to your vocabulary.

Also, I was telling a lady that I ran to Dalkey, pronouncing it exactly as it's spelled. Her reply was,

"Oh no, we don't pronounce the 'L.' Dalkey is just like 'walk', you don't hear the 'L'."

Can you imagine my confusion? I don't know about you, but I find 'walk' to be a poor example of silencing the 'L.'

Black and White Pudding

The Irish will tell you they have two kinds of pudding: black/white pudding or Christmas pudding. Neither of which is dairy based, certainly not custard-like.

Black pudding is basically congealed blood, together with some barley or oats as a filler. White pudding is similar, except without the blood--it's just sausage-like meat and fat together with the filler. These are standard in the traditional Irish breakfast.

Have I tried some? Well...on accident. I ordered a full Irish breakfast (unaware of all that was included on the menu) and after eating some of the hushpuppie-looking things (fried ball of some sort) and not being able to tell what the inside was, I asked a person at a nearby table and discovered what I was eating. Wow. Glad that's done with, I can say I've had it, and will never have to do so again. (It actually had a lot of flavor, somewhat tasty, but the thought of the ingredients utterly takes away all appeal and enjoyment.)

Squirrels

I was having lunch with a family in their home on Sunday and in the middle of the meal, the mother cried out "Oh! There's a squirrel!" This proclamation caused all six people (2 parents, 4 teenagers) to leap to their feet and run to the window and marvel at the squirrel...for quite some time.

I was the only one left sitting at the table, finding this scene a bit curious. Should I tell them that we had so many squirrels in our yard growing up, that we had to shoot some? Dare I tell them what a nuisance squirrels can be when then chunk pecans at your roof or scamper around noisily on the roof when you're trying to sleep? No, this would ruin their pleasure right now.

I tactfully noted that we had many squirrels in our pecan trees in Texas. The family was exceedingly envious. I then learned from them that there are only 20 mammals in Ireland. And definitely no snakes. (Legend says St. Patrick rid the island of the the snakes.)

Going to the Airport

I took a bus to Heathrow Airport. At some point we had to stop for a passing train (but didn’t realize the train was the reason). We just sat still for what seemed like an eternity--enough to drive me batty. Soon I began laughing because I looked out the window and saw a really old man on his electric wheelchair passing us by on the sidewalk! It was so funny! I felt like I was in the movie "Office Space."

Then I noticed another passenger’s on the bus was wearing a blouse that had a pattern almost exactly like the pattern on the seats of the bus. Royal blue with small speckled geometric shapes in red and yellow. I struggled to retain my giggling, she really blended in! And when she got off the bus, it was as if a seat was going with her. Haha, this was too funny. All this is to say, I kept myself amused on the long bus ride. :)

This was my first time to fly with Aer Lingus. My flight cost 1 euro going and 19 euro returning. Well, plus 50 euro in taxes/fees. Also, you're not allowed to check any bags, unless you pay a fee--5 euro (each way) if reserved online, 8 euro if upon arrival. Interesting, eh?

Foot & Mouth Disease

I was staying in Egham which is right near the Windsor Great Park, vast property of the Crown, so I had been eager to go for a long run through the park on this sunny morning of around 52 degrees. However, I learned that the park was closed due to the Foot & Mouth disease. It seems they want to protect the Queen's deer from getting infected. So I decided I'd run through the nearby Runnymede Park, the grounds on which the Magna Carta was signed in 1215. However, when I reached it, I found signs declaring all entrances to be closed because the cattle in those fields actually had Foot & Mouth. So I continued on the path outside the fence. Eventually I made it to the Air Force Memorial (honoring the 20,000 people with no graves who died flying in WWII), which had a great view of the area. I saw the River Thames in the distance, lined with colorful trees and decided I'd run to the town of Old Windsor, then run along the river back to Egham.
Well...I ended up taking a few detours along very windy and hilly roads...fortunately various elderly people out for a morning stroll helped to point me in the right direction...only to discover that portions of the "toepath" along the river was closed due to Foot & Mouth.
Nevertheless, throughout this 11.5 miles, I did see some lovely sights! I was carrying my camera, and it was quite a pleasant adventure. Eventually I ended up in Egham, and enjoyed a blueberry smoothie and mozzarella/tomato/pesto panini before heading back up the hill to the university.

Traversing London

After fulfilling my work responsibilities, I spent a day traversing the city of London. I had no map, no guidebook, and no real plan of action. I just too the only train that goes from Egham (where the university is) to London (Waterloo station) and sort of spontaneously decided what I'd do as I went along.
Sound ridiculous, to have made no preparation for managing in this enormous city? Well, okay, so 8 years ago I lived in London for 4 months, so I was prepared to rely on my memory...
The day went amazingly smoothly! I hit all the sights that I would have cared to see, and with great ease!
First, I went to the Holy Communion service at Westminster Abbey. Then I walked past the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben, then along the River Thames, past the London Eye (ferris wheel in back left of Big Ben picture), up to Trafalgar Square, then up to Leicester Square. I walked through Chinatown and had a great lunch in a Japanese restaurant. Then I walked to Piccadilly Circus, then took the Tube to Hyde Park and walked the length of it to Kensington Gardens. The colourful Autumn leaves make it a delightful place to be this time of year!

Then I took the back streets to the area where I lived and had fun visiting the house, the same cafes, markets, etc. Now then, my favorite place in London back then had been the Tower Bridge at night. It just happened to be sunset at this time, so I took the Tube to the Tower of London, walked alongside it--in all its ancient and gruesome mystery at dusk--then to the Tower Bridge, crossed it and walked along the River Thames, now nighttime. Indeed this is still my favorite place (and it's only such at night), for this is when the magic and wonder emerges. It is at moments like this that you marvel at the opportunity to be in London, which enjoying the peaceful, crisp night air with such a glorious backdrop.

Remembering Past Days in London

I sat outside the house where I lived in 1999 and remembered what a formative experience that time studying in London had been. Actually, it was in the Fall, just as now, so now I could even feel the same weather and sensations in the air. I remember the excitement I had about living abroad. I loved exploring the city and traveling with every opportunity. This is when I gained a sense of confidence and independence. I had never previously really embraced life as a single adult in a big city, and so there I was having such freedom and so much adventure at my fingertips--for me to decide what, where, and when I was going to do something. I realized then that it was up to me to seize every opportunity—academically, culturally, spiritually, relationally. I could pursue what I wanted, be anything, go anywhere (by God's grace)—the whole world had opened up to me. Yes, eight years ago this is what planted the seeds that enabled me to go and do and be who I am now.

I remember the day I left London, it was so sad, as I wondered if I’d ever be back. I behaved as if I wouldn’t be. As far as I knew, I was returning to school in Alabama, and otherwise had family in Texas. Back then I was working on my Bachelor's degree, having no idea I would ever pursue, much less have completed, a Ph.D. at this point...and little did I know then that now I’d be living in Dublin, working in London...indeed it is so interesting to have these moments of looking back, reflecting on where we've come from, where we're going, and all the formative experiences that have helped to shape who we are--fostered our desires, developed our character, challenged our worldview, instilled a sense of calling or purpose in life...

In some sense, I feel like I've come full circle. I am somehow at another crossroads in life. (Are these two geometric figures of speech conflicting or is it okay to use them as I have...?)
There I sat, in the same place--geographically, seasonally, metaphorically--yet from a different angle. And similar questions arise...I am wondering what the next adventure is that life will bring?

Royal Holloway University of London

I am at Royal Holloway University of London this week, giving a talk at a seminar among other things. The above photo is the university's main ("Founder's") building, built around 1880. It's a beautiful campus, near Windsor Great Park, the royal hunting grounds and gardens.

Car Boot Sale

I keep seeing signs for Car Boot Sales--often as fundraisers for schools, churches, charities, etc. What in the world is a car boot?? I keep picturing the brake shoes on my car, but know this can't be it...

Well...a car boot is the trunk of a car! So these car boot sales are basically the combination of a yard sale and a tailgate party! A person will pay 10 euro to get a parking space for their car, and the trunk will be full of odds and ends--items similar to those in a garage sale or flea market. All the cars will open their trunks so that the persons from the community coming through can bartar and buy things and great prices. Other cars will have coffee/tea/treats and be a center for chatting with your neighbors. Brilliant. Someone should try this at a tailgate party of the next UT football game...?

Stones

In a store for runners, the assistant selling the shoes indicates that a certain one is for persons of 12 stones or more. Huh? Yes, a person of 12 stones or more.

Evidently, a "stone" is a unit of weight--part of the Imperial system (along with pounds instead of kilograms, feet instead of meters, etc.)--equaling 14 pounds. So those shoes were for persons weighing more than 168 pounds.

A few days later I was conversing with an elderly woman who told me she lost a stone in the park. At first I thought she dropped a piece of jewelry, but then I recalled the educational experience in the shoe store. Indeed, her point was that by walking around the park every morning, she lost weight!

This is good...one's weight can fluctuate a few pounds here and there but one remains approximately the same stone...

Bono's and Bray

Evidently I live 5 miles from Bono's house (lead singer of U2). It looks like a castle and has a nice view of the coast, just next to Killiney Hill. (No picture of the house because I was running at the time...) It is along a stretch of road that has some impressive mansions, beautiful views of the Irish Sea, and a view of the Bray beach.

Bray is a town about 10 miles south of my house, and the pictures below are from Bray Head, a small hill one can climb for a great view.

"Soft" Weather

What does it mean for weather to be "soft?" It's not an adjective I think of to use for describing the weather; I reserve it for pillows and cheese.

"Soft" is referred to days that are cloudy and with a light mist in the air.
What about "fresh" weather? This seems to be used with sort of a negative connotation. When the temperatures are a bit too cold, it is described as "fresh."

Ireland is Quite Small

I had a long conversation this morning with two Irish ladies about how "small" Ireland is--small in the sense that everywhere you go, even in the "big city" of Dublin, you continually will run into people you know. People from your present circle of interaction, people from your past years in school, or people who are friends of your mother, grandmother, aunt, etc. These ladies shared story after story of meeting someone in the grocery store, who went to middle school with them, or who dated their cousin, or whatever. When you meet someone and ask where they are from and they say Kilkenny, then you ask if they know so-and-so, and sure enough his father was neighbors with the football coach of her daughter...or something like that.
They laughingly claimed this is why there aren't serial killers in Ireland, because the community would know who you are, your family, where you come from, etc. If a guy meets a girl in a bar and she agrees to go out with him, there's a good chance they will know some mutual person, so there's no way he could try to get away with murder, as people could easily track him down. (So they say.)

I have to admit, I've been here just over a month and have already had such experiences that make me realize Ireland is a bit small. Last Saturday night I went to the Gate Theatre. Then on Sunday a lady I've never seen before in my life comes up to me and asks if I was at the Gate Theatre the night before. I said yes, and she smiled and said "You've got great taste, wasn't it a great show!" Then she went about her way. Friendly folks, aren't they? Yesterday I was waiting at the bus stop, and a car pulled up and the persons inside asked if I wanted a ride. It turns out it was the pastor and his wife from the nearby church I've attended.
I must say, given that I can count on my fingers how many people I've met (I wouldn't even say "know") in this city/country, it's nice to be recognized! Although it makes me feel like I need to be careful what I'm doing, I don't want to have a scowl on my face at the bus stop, as who knows who will pass...and word travels in this small island...

Indeed Ireland is geographically small, not merely in this sense of a close-knit community. It takes only 3 hours to drive from Dublin on the east coast to Galway on the west coast--this is like driving from Houston to Dallas or Austin. In fact, I suppose we can think of the Republic of Ireland roughly as that size: the region from, say, San Antonio to Houston to Dallas, if we were to make a box-like shape there in Texas. That's the whole country of Ireland! Wow. No wonder paths cross, as generation after generation develops its web of interaction...

City Centre

Dublin is divided into various postal code regions, and within each little area, there is it's own sort of center--the center of the community, a crossroads where the local pub, shops, chemist and church are located.

Now, I've been instructed that to tell someone I am going into the city centre, I should say I'm going "in to town." However, if I'm just going to my local area centre, I should say "down to town." Okay, got it. Also, one never calls the proper Dublin city centre "downtown," I blunder I was in the habit of saying due to the way in the US.

Note: You may have noticed some different spellings in my posts...for example in this entry, I use "center" and "centre." The latter is a more common British way, as is using "ou" instead of simply "o," such as in "colour" and "harbour."

Shopping

I have a strong aversion to shopping. Particularly clothes shopping. It gives me a headache, and I try to avoid it when I can (unless it's a thrift store, where I may enjoy finding more eccentric items...)

However, I needed to find a hat to keep my ears warm and the rain off, and for some reason I decided to explore the city's shopping options on a Saturday afternoon. The stores were a madhouse--and not merely due to the volume of customers, but due to the messy state in which the people had left the merchandise. Imagine being in an equivalent of a Macy's or Foley's, and looking out and seeing clothes strewn all over the racks and shelves, piles everywhere in complete disarray. In the shoes section, seeing shoes and boots scattered about completely covering the floor so that everyone has to climb over them and hunt for matches. It was frankly quite appalling, I was embarrassed for the store to tolerate the appearance of a tornado coming through.
So in order to survive, I had to view this as simply a touristic experience of observing the life of shopping on a Saturday afternoon in Dublin and I zoomed through the stores without stopping unless a hat jumped out at me--which occurred once when it fell of the pile of clothes it had been thrown on.

Note: to be fair, these state of disarray was only found in the larger stores, where I guess more people come than there are workers to manage the place. The smaller stores were quite well kept, and also the larger stores are not like this during the week.

Blarney Stone

Yes, I kissed the Blarney Stone. The legendary stone is found at the top of the tower of the 600 year old castle, and it's said that those who kiss it will receive the gift of eloquence. (I'm not claiming to have successfully acquired this gift of gab, however...)

As long ago as 1789, the French Consul to Dublin wrote of "Blarney Castle top of which is a large stone that visitors who climb up are made to kiss." The 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue gives the following definition, "Blarney: He has licked the blarney stone; he deals in the wonderful, or tips us the traveler. The blarney stone is a triangular stone on the very top of an ancient castle of that name in the county of Cork in Ireland, extremely difficult of access; so that to have ascended to it, was considered as a proof of perseverance, courage and agility, whereof many are supposed to claim the honour, who never achieved the adventure: and to tip the blarney, is figuratively used telling a marvellous story, or falsity; and also sometimes to express flattery. Irish."

So how is it done? You climb to the top, then lay down on your back and there is a man who holds your torso while you carefully extend backwards and downwards in order to kiss the stone...Someone is there to take your picture of course, but I think I'll refrain from posting myself in such a contorted position on this open blog.

Perhaps you have heard of Baloney? What's the difference between Baloney and Blarney? According to the description on the tour: "Blarney is the varnished truth. Baloney is the unvarnished lie. Blarney is flattery laid on just thin enough to like it. Baloney is flattery laid on so thick we hate it."

My favorite is the following example, "The difference between 'blarney' and 'baloney' is this: Baloney is when you tell a 50-year old woman that she looks 18. Blarney is when you ask a woman how old she is because you want to know at what age women are most beautiful."

Brilliant.

(Note: this trip was taken back in August, but I'm just now getting around to writing about it.)

Irish Germs

Well, it seems this American girl does not have the right immunity for Irish Germs, or else they're much more potent than the tame ones in the States. (I'm not sure these are the appropriate words for germs, but you get the idea...) I very rarely get sick in the US, very rarely. However, I have come down with "something" twice within 5 weeks. Not very fun...
I suppose the weather could be a factor--I wake up with my nose frozen each morning (though my bed is nice and warm, piled high with wool blankets and a duvet, so heavy that I can barely roll over--nice and cozy!). It seems the radiator heaters in this house are only on between 7-9am and 7-10pm. When I step outside, the wind hits me with a mighty thrust, I walk in the cold to my bus and wait tensely until I am rescued by a vehicle packed with teenagers in their cute school uniforms--girls in pleated plaid skirts, knee-high socks, deck shoes, cardigan sweaters, boys in dress pants, ties, and sweaters. When I enter my office, I burn up and must take off my layers to a short-sleeved shirt.
Or someone has suggested it could be the water. Perhaps there are different microbes in the water here. Or perhaps it's simply the strand of germs bred in Ireland. Well, I'll build up my immunity and show them who's boss.
In the meantime, I'll sit here with a hot water bottle in my chair, wearing a scarf and sipping on some hot water, with a box of tissues by my side, typing away on this blog...spreading more germs on my keyboard...

Irish in Sudan

I heard a talk last night by a few Irish people who are living in southern Sudan, helping to bring education, sanitation and medical care to the people. I was overwhelmed by the pictures and stories that were told of their experiences. But I was also encouraged by the commitment of people like them to use their skills and resources to help those who do not have even their basic needs of shelter, food and water. I exhort all of us to examine ourselves and our ability to aid our fellow human beings in such developing countries (formerly called "Third World" countries).

They also had many statistics that I found gripping, but of course I can't remember many of them--we've all seen them before but somehow we go on without taking much personal action. I did remember some stats, as the message was very clear: Europe spends $11 billion US dollars on ice cream each year, the US spends $8 billion on cosmetics, and $12 billion on perfumes in the US and Europe, while it would cost $9 billion to provide water and sanitation, $6 billion for education, and $13 for basic health and nutrition for all developing countries in the world. Basically, we spend so much on luxuries while two-thirds of the world is in poverty. This sort of thing compels me to do without some unnecessary expense and to be intentional about giving that money toward "adopting" a child in Africa or paying the tuition for a teenager to go to vocational school or some other worthy humanitarian relief. We've been blessed with so much and they don't deserve to be with so little. If each of us did our part, we could help that many more people...and if only we would make ourselves aware of what is going on in such places like Sudan, then we might be more inclined to do something about it...but sometimes we get consumed in our little bubble of "worries"...well, I'd better stop now before I get on my soap-box. :)

It reminded me of this brief video clip I saw a couple of years ago: http://www.ekincaglar.com/coin/flash.html

The Gate Theatre

Last night I went with a friend to the Gate Theatre--"the most respected theatre in Dublin." It is famous for being the first in history to stage the nineteen plays of Samuel Beckett, and many well-known actors have performed here. I saw Noel Coward's "Private Lives," which is a somehow serious comedy about a one-time husband and wife who find themselves in adjacent honeymoon suites with their new spouses. The acting was absolutely superb!

I really love going to live plays such as this. The theatre is cozy, the audience is near the actors, and the entire story feels so real and as if you form a relationship with the actors. You are drawn in to the situations and feelings of those on stage, as they are living it out right before you, in real time. You feel as though you are participating somehow in their experience. A cinema has a distant, delayed, fabricated element, so one can never get as involved mentally as with live theatre. Plays such as this, with only 5 actors and a minimal set, also feel more genuine than an extravagant production. I suppose each of these forms of entertainment are intending to serve different purposes, so they are commendable in their own ways. I find films an escape from life here, a journey to another time and place (whether it is fiction or non-). Large productions such as musicals are completely unrealistic so I can only marvel in the talent of the singers and dancers--clearly not true to life as no one in their right mind breaks out in song in the middle of an intense situation. Plays invite me to share in an experience of another's life, they speak to my relational side and allow me to live with them for a moment.

My first real experience with a professional play--when I first realize what a tremendous art form it is--was 8 years ago while I was studying in London, taking a theatre appreciation course. The first play we saw was "The Woman in Black"--a murder mystery with only two or three actors and a very simple set. I was astounded at how we could be so enraptured by the play and truly frightened at the ghost story. We knew it was just a play and these are actors, yet an element of reality is present since they are there--live--experiencing it right before you. I'm shuddering now just remembering that play. So if you haven't gone out to the theatre in awhile, I do recommend it to you!

adidas Dublin Half Marathon

I ran in the adidas Dublin Half Marathon yesterday. It was such an enjoyable run! It was all in Phoenix Park, the start was at 10am (well, because of the Irish way it ended up being around 10:15am...), the temperature was 60 degrees, and sunny blue skies--absolutely perfect!

Despite this being a substantial race, sponsored by adidas, with a great goody-bag and dry-fit adidas running shirt for all the finishers, the start of the race was quite anti-climatic. There were about 3,000 runners packed in...but no announcer to get us hyped up, no music...no national anthem sung like in the States, and certainly no gun. We simply heard a horn and we were off! Miles 5-8 and 10-13 were uphill, but the training in the hills of Austin must really pay off, as my legs and mind weren't bothered too much. Everyone was in great spirits--at the beginning there were some guys behind me singing some jovial songs, which made me feel like I was in an Irish pub. Actually, I only signed up for this race two days before...I haven't run more than 10 miles since the end of July, so I decided I'd try to restrain my competitive urge and just enjoy the scenery during these 13.1 miles. I finished in 1:49 (8:19 min miles) and indeed this may have been the most pleasant race I've done. There weren't near as many people cheering us on as I've experienced in the US, and it was all in the park, so I was able to really escape into my thoughts (interesting ideas come to mind when those endorphins are pumping for 2 hours...)

Now, in the US, as soon as you cross the finish line there are typically water bottles, sports drinks, bananas, oranges, sports bars and the like available for the participants. However, after the race, we had to walk a mile back to the headquarters for "refreshments," which consisted of tea, coffee, brack (raisin-filled bread) already covered with butter, and chocolate-covered biscuits. I'm definitely in Europe.

This was a wonderful day, I am so thankful for the health and ability to have such experiences.

Oh, for you logistics people, I took the bus at 7am (wearing pants, jacket and gloves, still quite chilly) into the city centre, walked half a mile to the next bus that would get me to the park, then walked half a mile to the registration headquarters, then walked a mile to the starting line. By then I was ready to strip down into my sleeveless top for sure. After the race, I walked all this in the reverse...and made it home by 3pm and was ready for a quick nap before heading back to downtown for a theatre show. (see blog to be posted soon...) Yes, it was a fun-filled full day!

How the Irish Saved Civilization

I just finished the book "How the Irish Saved Civilization," by Thomas Cahill. It tells how the Ireland flourished as "a land of saints and scholars" during the time that the European continent was experiencing the dark ages. From the fall of the Roman Empire and the barbarian invasion of Europe to the rise of Charlemagne, the great classics of literature were preserved in the monasteries of this far off island. After St. Patrick brought Christianity to Ireland, monks began establishing monasteries that become like university cities, they copied the greats manuscripts and established libraries with the great classical literature, while all the great libraries of Europe had vanished due to the barbarians. Not only did the monks and scribes preserve the Greek, Roman, Jewish and Christian works, but also these scholars were instrumental in spreading learning back to Europe once stability returned. This bestseller book is an account of history that is not always recognized, but one that is beautiful and inspiring (and even humorous)!

Endurance of the Irish

The Irish have endured a great deal. The Vikings invaded in the end of the eighth century and destroyed many monasteries and massacred countless number of people in their repeated raids. The Vikings were vanquished in the early eleventh century, but by this time Ireland had been marginalized from European civilization. In the twelfth century, the Normans (English) invaded. In the sixteenth century the colonizing Elizabethans (read: England/Protestant) cut down the Irish forests and killed many. In the seventeenth century, the Cromwellians (read: England/Protestant) came close to enacting genocide. In the eighteenth century the Penal Laws (from England) denied Catholics the rights of citizens, causing many to flee Ireland. In the nineteenth century, nearly one million Irish people died of hunger and its consequences between 1845 and 1851...while the English government sat on its hands. Another million and a half emigrated during this time to North America or Australia, many dying during the difficult journey.

No wonder there is much tension between Ireland and Britain. The conflict between Catholics and Protestants in Ireland that we hear about in the US is deeply historical, political and cultural one, not merely theological.

For those of you unaware, the Easter Rising occurred in 1916, when the Irish Republic was proclaimed. The Irish War of Independence was from 1919-1921. Finally, in 1922, Britain and Ireland signed a treaty establishing the Irish Free State, but excluding the six counties of Northern Ireland still under British rule.

Is it a Cake or a Cookie?

During our afternoon tea/coffee break, I learned of a very interesting case in the European Court of Justice a few years back. Evidently there is Value Added Tax (VAT) on luxury items, but not on basic foodstuffs. In Ireland and Britain, biscuits cakes are deemed necessities and are thus exempt from the tax, but chocolate-covered biscuits are considered a luxury and subject to a VAT at 17.5%. (But for some reason it doesn't apply to chocolate-covered cakes.) So there have been several court cases disputing whether a chocolate-covered food is a cake or a biscuit. For example, McVities and HM Customs & Excise argued over the Jaffa Cake (a soft cake/cookie filled with jam and covered with chocolate), as did Marks & Spencer over their chocolate-covered teacake that had been deemed a confectionery.

So what settled the dispute? A soft/hard line of reasoning: it's a cake if when it goes stale it gets hard, and it's a cookie if when it goes stale it gets soft.

Thus McVities and M&S won their case in the Tribunal.

First Cold Snap...

It is September 18. I woke up to the temperature outside being 37 degrees, with a wind chill making it feel like 30 degrees, according to the weather channel. Brrrr! Fortunately, it was sunny, which makes it a bit more bearable. Inside my room, the thermometer said it was 64 degrees. Time to try out these radiators they use for heat!

My inclination was to curl up in a blanket and brood about the paralyzing cold. To combat this, what I have learned to do is go outside for a run. So I donned my special hooded jacket made for running and my gloves and headed to the lovely park nearby. After 7 miles, I was hot and ready to strip down. Then for the rest of the day, whenever I got cold walking to work or such, I remembered running around in it this morning and being hot--thus I knew I'd be able to endure the walks while bundled in a jacket!

Pronunciation

I haven't quite mastered the ability to read an Irish word and know whether it is a person, place thing, adjective, much less how to correctly pronounce it. I received an email that ended with "Eoin, Customer Service Helpdesk." I needed to reply, but I wasn't quite sure to whom I should address it--is Eoin the author's name or is it an Irish word for something like "sincerely"? If I wrote, "Dear Eoin," is that saying "Dear Regards" or is it properly addressing the person I'm communicating with by name?

So I Googled it. Eoin is a name, pronounced like "Owen." Ahh.

Then I met someone named (as it sounds) "Locklin." But when I was to write his name down, I discovered it was spelled "Laughlin." Ah, yes, my second grade teacher's name was Ms. McGlaughlin, I can remember this one.

Meanwhile, I was listening to a talk by an Irish person today and he kept saying "na-ee-a". What is that?? He was saying "Make the most of na-ee-a." Then he'd refer to the "pa-ee-a-a" in something. Hmm...

Eventually I used context clues to discover that na-ee-a is "now" and pa-ee-a-a is "power."

Wow. Or should I say wa-ee-a?

Politeness Protocol

I met a lady today and when she found out I was from Texas, she said, "Oh, do you say 'mum'?" I was a bit confused, I certainly don't say "mum"...I call my mother "mom." I asked what she meant, and she replied that she know another girl from Texas in Ireland who would always say "Yes, mum" or "No, mum."
Ahhh, the lady I was talking to meant "Ma'am," she just wasn't able to remember or pronounce it correctly!
Anyhow, she continued to explain how she thought it was so strange that this girl would say something like that, to have this habit of putting that word/title at the end of yes, no, or sometimes thank you.

How interesting--this a mandatory protocol for politeness in the South of the US caused a bewildered and confused reaction from the Irish. (Actually, I've encountered this startled reaction to such politeness in the north of the US as well.) I didn't bother to tell her how my parents trained me to always say "Yes Ma'am, yes Sir," and that whenever I didn't I was made to write 100 times on a piece of paper "I will say Yes Ma'am" or whatever the appropriate statement was. (I even found some of those papers a few months back when I was cleaning out boxes as I prepared to moved to Dublin!) Once the writing discipline lost its effectiveness, I was made to pay a few cents in a jar every time I neglected to say "ma'am" or "sir." Then my parents decided to try positive reinforcement and I was given a few cents out of the jar each time I remembered.

I wonder what a parallel politeness protocol for kids might exist here in Ireland...?

Rugby World Cup

Last night Ireland played Georgia in the Rugby World Cup. People here are really consumed with the game and tournament, much like Americans would be around the Super Bowl time, I suppose. Well, I know next to nothing about rugby, except that it's sort of between of soccer and American football... But from what I can tell, rugby is a much more dangerous and difficult sport than American football--they certainly aren't wearing the padding like the American football guys have! I watched about 10 minutes of the game as I passed through a hotel lobby--wow, they are throwing guys in the air like cheerleaders to catch the ball! At other times there are packs of players pushing into each other for possession, and then later big tackles...this is pretty intense and exciting to watch. I need to go study up on the rules and terminology so that I can better participate in this cultural experience! I have to admit, it was also quite entertaining watching all the Irish men in their formal evening attire at the hotel go crazy cheering on the team. :)

By the way, Ireland won: 14-10.

Marionette Puppet Show Theatre

Last night I went to the Pavilion Theatre in Dun Laoghaire for a puppet show of Hans Christian Andersen's "The Little Mermaid." Wow, what a production! I had no idea what to expect...I had a combination of images of hand puppets behind a wall and Disney's animated version of the story floating through my head...
Well, this was on a normal stage, with a very elaborate set and costumes on life-sized puppets (well, if a fictitious mermaid can be life-sized...)! It turns out these were marionette puppets-- those that hang on strings from above. (Thing of the Lonely Goatherd scene in "The Sound of Music," except on a much larger scale.) It was truly amazing to see these characters "floating" through the air as if it were in the sea, and the movements of their bodies were so very realistic like swimming, diving, walking. Even the smallest details of head and arm movements were carried out with precision. All of this was done with at least 10 strings or so per character. How do they coordinate this? I don't see how two people can coordinate one figure so well, nor do I see how one person can handle all the strings... (no human was visible, so I'm not sure how it was done). Also, the mermaids were flying all around, swinging rapidly around the set and around each other--how do they never get tangled up? I think I might have been watching for that more than paying attention to the story. (Well, actually, this was a puppet troupe from Poland, so the words were all in Polish--no wonder I was focused on the artistic and mechanical aspects of this production.)
Well, all I can say is this was a truly impressive show, and I'd recommend it to others for sure! Wow, I've still got those images in my mind--a really magical combination of the puppets, elaborate set and classic storyline.
Oh, the Disney version does not follow Andersen's original story. But there is indeed an octopus, and boy was that enormous puppet a scary one, crawling and jumping all over the stage and threatening to jump out on the audience!

Tea? Coffe?

I've definitely gotten into drinking more tea and coffee here. It's just what you do, morning, afternoon, evening, a very social thing.
Now then, whenever I've made a new friend and they arrange a place for us to meet (since I don't yet know the good spots), it's often been Starbucks. Eh? I guess they think they I'd be comforted by familiarity?
Anyhow, yesterday I'd had already enough caffeine to last me a week, so when I was to meet a friend at Starbucks that evening, I decided I'd get some herbal tea. I knew I was running with another friend at 6:30am this morning, so I didn't want to be kept awake. In US custom, the Starbucks person would ring up the bill, then ask precisely which tea I'd like, point me to the containers, I'd choose and it would be placed in the cup of hot water. Simple enough, and I naively expected the same to be done here. But before I knew it, I was given black tea, teabag already dropped in. Where'd my choice go? We Americans like choice. Oh well, it seems it is assumed when one asks for tea, one wants black tea!

Meanwhile, previously, when my mother was visiting, she had ordered water with our lunch at some cafe and was brought a cup of boiling hot water, like for tea. Fun times...

Oh, I am loving the digestive biscuits--the cookies served with tea/coffee. McVities chocolate covered are my favorite...

Computer, part III

The technician contacted the maker of the motherboard (AMD) and retrieved the 5 necessary drivers needed, so now my machine is working! Yea! Now I'll just spend another 2 hours downloading and installing all my programs and things will be just grande.

Computer, part II

I got a message this afternoon from the computer technician who has been working on installing Windows XP on my machine, which reads, "Dell seems to have locked down your PC model to only run Vista. I will call you later to update you."
Oh boy. Dell must have really signed a tight agreement with Microsoft.
So I'm left with a computer that now is not running XP completely, nor Vista.
It's looking like I'll have to get Vista back and suffer with little mathematical software until those folks create updates to be compatible with Vista.
Meanwhile, I'll go back to my trusty pencil and paper and calculations of cryptographic sizes by hand...

Running home from work

Well, to release frustration (see entries below) and occupy excess time that I have, I've been running home from work. This is about 5 miles, and I can get home in the same amount of time it would take to wait/ride the bus. I have enjoyed exploring different routes to get home--my favorite is along the harbour, as there is a path that winds through a park right along the water. Plus I like to people watch as I go through the small town centers and residential areas instead of down the main dual-carriageway filled with cars in traffic (I did that the first time).

Computer

Okay, this isn't an encounter that is uniquely Irish...but it's something I've been dealing with nevertheless.
Three weeks ago I was given a brand-new Dell computer for my office, with Windows Vista. Uh-oh...I was skeptical about the new Vista, but sure, I'd give it a try. So I spend several hours downloading and installing the software I need for my research. Turns out, several of the packages aren't compatible with Vista yet. (In particular, I really needed to use MikTeX for my presentation last week...) The university has a software client that allows users to access the university's many applications...but that client is not compatible with Vista. So the university gives me a machine that it doesn't support??
I called IT Services, they put in a request to have Windows XP installed on my machine. In the meantime, I couldn't do much work on the computer, both because I didn't have the programs, and because I knew everything would get wiped off when they reformat it for the different operating system.

A week later I got an email saying they don't have a license to distribute Windows XP by disc. I replied that I didn't want a disc, I simply wanted them to come over and install it on my machine. A few days later they replied warning me that all my files will be deleted. I replied that I'm aware of that, which is why I'd like this to get taken care of as soon as possible so I can get to work. A few days later they replied asking what my current RAM is, what the hard disk space is, and what the operating system is--this annoyed me, as clearly in my emails that were quoted below in their reply, I had already explained that my operating system was Vista and I needed XP, blah blah blah. Okay, so the next day I get a reply that they are going to have to transfer this request to another building/service in order to get resolution. What??

So yesterday I made some calls to the IT Services of the School of Mathematical Sciences (instead of the university IT folks), to see if they could help. The answer was they have no license to install XP, and they were already familiar with the compatibility problems of math software with Vista, but there's nothing they can do, except offer me Linux. Oh boy. Now Linux is indeed powerful and what a hardcore mathematician/computer scientist would use... But then the IT folks warned me that they offer no support for Linux--"if you are good enough to use Linux, then you're good enough to not need any help." Well, I used Linux for 6 years getting my Ph.D., but I'm not an expect so I think I'll still with Windows...

Finally, today a university IT guy came to my office and said he could install XP, and it would take about an hour. Yea! So I piddled around, trying to occupy myself...but soon 3 hours passed, and he was having trouble getting on the network. Evidently it's missing some drivers needed to get on the network (i.e. no Internet). So he calls Dell, and they say he must put Vista back on, as it's not designed to have XP. What?? The guy hangs up, tries some other things, nothing works, so he says he will call Dell back and insist...

In the meantime, I went home, still without a computer working...

Phone

Now, in the midst of those computer hassles, my office phone still doesn't work.

Again, three weeks ago, I asked why I cannot dial out, and they say I should be able to dial within the university, but I have to apply to call outside the university, as there is a charge for each call. And extra-special permission/signatures are required to be able to call mobile phones. Okay, fine, right now I'd simply like to be able to call within the university, as I need to call IT Services for my computer...

So I filled out the application, etc., and the telephone services said it's all taken care of. Well, turns out, I can receive calls, but still cannot make calls. Their switchboard or whatever says my line is active and ready, but I'm telling them it doesn't work. We've been going back and forth on this the past 3 weeks as well...and to this day it is not fixed.

Meanwhile, since I can receive calls, I figure I should set up my voicemail. Well, after many attempts, I learn that I must send in an application. Gee, I have to apply for absolutely everything here, which means at least 24 hours goes by before anything can get done...

So, now I do have voicemail, but a phone that doesn't work...

Bluegrass

I met some colleagues downtown at the Ha'Penny Inn's pub for some bluegrass music. Well, this Irish band (The Sick and Indigent Song Club) was quite talented (guitar, mandolin, ukelele, harmonica, accordion, whistles, etc.), but it gave me a feel of being 1950's style American bluegrass. Indeed, this was an odd feeling, coming all the way to Dublin in the 21st century to listen to an Irish band playing American bluegrass from the 1950's...
Yup, when I looked them up on the web, they are described as "Old timey, folk, trad, blues and vintage pop."

Meawhile, the Ha'Penny Inn pub is great! It's a cozy place upstairs for music, with comfortable little tables, stools and couches, well lit and fresh (unlike the dark, crowded bar downstairs). It sits right on the River Liffey (which is lovely to walk along at night), across from the Ha'Penny pedestrian bridge (built 1816). The bridge got its name from the half-penny toll that one used to be charged to cross it; the toll was dropped in 1919.

Ryan's Daughter

During the tour of the Dingle Peninsula, there was much mention of the movie "Ryan's Daughter", directed by David Lean (director of "Lawrence of Arabia" and "Doctor Zhivago"), as it was filmed on the Dingle Peninsula. So I have gotten the dvd from the library and have watched about 30 minutes so far--the pictures I have posted above are two that I took, and they appear almost exactly the same in the movie. Indeed, this 1970 film, winner of 2 academy awards, has some beautiful scenery! The film stars Robert Mitchum, Sarah Miles, and John Mills, who got an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. It takes place during World War I, so there is some interesting insights on life in Ireland and Europe during that tense time--the US obviously didn't experience the same challenges, as it only formally entered in 1917, but the rest of Europe had been fighting since 1914. More precisely, the film is set in 1916, not long after the Easter Rising (rebellion in Ireland to win independence from Britain). But the main plot is a love story...
I haven't seen enough of the movie yet to place my recommendation stamp on it, so watch at your own risk. :)

Rapidly Changing

Here is a picture of the coming of a downpour. Well, actually it never came! But see how it was previously totally blue skies and sunny, then within minutes, there is a vast change, and then somehow within minutes it moves off in another direction without the bottom every falling out.
I wonder if people here go easy on the meteorologists, since they have a really difficult job...

Buses

I have been looking forward to living without a car. I've had a car since I was sixteen, and now finally I will break free from that dependency, yes? Living a more minimalist lifestyle, fewer material possessions, fewer luxuries...oh yes, this certainly doesn't come without its pains.
I am a very proactive person, always on the go, always somehow being productive. I'm also very punctual. This is partly because I am very organized and partly because I don't like waiting on others and hence don't want to cause others to wait on me.
Well, waiting on a city bus sure does throw a kink in such a lifestyle.
It's not merely the waiting, but the uncertainty of the waiting--never really knowing if/when a bus will arrive. Never really knowing when I need to leave in order to arrive to a meeting on time, or never knowing when I can tell a person I will be able to join them after my previous commitment. Basically never knowing how much time to allow for an activity.
Uncertainty. Waiting. Not a good combination for someone like me. But I'm learning...
One remedy is to bring a book along. This helps matters, but only slightly. It helps during the journey on the bus, but not the waiting for the arrival--for you must be ready to flag down the bus in time or else it will zip right past you. And, well, actually once on the bus, I am still trying to learn the identifying markers of when to ring the stop bell and begin my decent down the winding staircase on the bus in time my needed departure. (Climbing down the stairs while the bus is in motion with these drivers is not a safe venture, let me tell you...and certainly not with one hand occupied by holding a book...)
So now I've just taken to talking to myself to bide the time. Okay, not really.

Now then, there are bus itineraries so that you know which bus stops where...but these are not accurate. Bus 75 was supposed to come in 10 minutes, but after 35 minutes, I decided to walk to another stop around the corner and get the 46a, which is supposed to come every 6-8 minutes. Wouldn't ya know, I'd see two 75's go past right after this? Oh well, I knew it was a gamble. Meanwhile, I waited at the new stop for over an hour (unable to read my book, because any minute the bus could zoom around the corner). Finally someone came and told me that between 4-7pm, the 46a takes a different route, since it's traffic time. What?? I checked the bus information posted, and there was no mention of this. Urgh.

I do love being able to walk to many places. This is such a freeing feeling, going about on foot. Carrying my groceries back to the house (learning how much weight I can handle per trip...), leisurely stroll to the bank or local bakery.

I do love not having to do repairs on my car. I once needed new tires for my car in the States, and I remember being so perturbed that I was forced to spend a large sum of money and chunk of time out of work in order to get this taken care of, since I was so dependent on a car to get around to my various commitments. No longer is that the case. Ahhh, freedom from that control on me. I also like not seeing the automated withdrawal of car insurance payments from my bank account, and not keeping such a close watch on gasoline prices.

Perhaps waiting for the buses is good, it's making me slow down, smell the roses (or the persons thrust up against me during rush hour...)

Music and Dancing

I haven't posted for a week, as I've been quite busy with a conference. (It was very informative and enjoyable.)
Meanwhile, some of the folks from outside Ireland wanted to find a place with traditional Irish music. So a group of us went to the Arlington Hotel's pub, where there was a band playing such music, and a group of Irish dancers--dancing "Riverdance Style". You know, with the arms down by the side, legs moving super fast, like puppet dolls. It was great fun experiencing this in more of a local setting instead of in a vast auditorium performance. I also think I'm starting to recognize and learn some of the traditional songs I've heard in several pubs now--pretty soon I'll be singing along loudly, swaying my drink...or not. :)

Solitude

I've been pondering the difference between Loneliness and Solitude.

Loneliness seems to be a state of lacking company, an unsavory feeling seeming from perceived incompleteness and abnormal abandonment or alienation.

Solitude is a state of wholeness while in isolation. It carries a feeling of appreciation for the opportunity to be with oneself, apart from distraction, to be complete in the present without the need for additional stimulus or companionship.

Squares

Cereal boxes are square. Not rectangular. I find it a bit (unexpectedly) difficult to get used to this every morning when I sit down and stare at the box. But they are decorated with all kinds of interesting articles and information, which keeps me entertained.
Toilet paper sections are not square. They are are rectangular. This too I find difficult to get used to every time I have to tear off a section at an unexpected place. Ahh, the little things in life we don't realize we are accustomed to...
But hey, this causes the Seinfeld episode where Elaine is asking the person in the bathroom stall next to her, "Can you please spare a square? Haven't you a square to spare? Please, I only need a square!" to loose it's punch...

Metric System

I've kept in mind the switch to Celsius from Fahrenheit.
I anticipated the use of kilometers instead of miles (though many people do speak in terms of miles), so the driver going 100 km/h didn't scare me as much as if I'd thought it was 100 mi/h.
However, I forgot about the switch to kilograms from pounds. So I've been thinking the grocery prices were outrageous. Bananas--1.50. Broccoli--3.00. Tomatoes--3.80. These are in Euro, so in my head I'd convert to dollars, just for entertainment, and be shocked at the thought of paying over $5 per lb of tomatoes. But ahhh, this is the price per kilogram! There are approximately 2.2 lb per kg, so this makes the prices a bit more reasonable. Whew.
Also, one cannot buy a gallon of milk. One buys a litre, at most a 2-litre container. Not a quart of something, but a pint.
I still need some work with cooking from these recipes on the back of containers...no longer will it instruct me to use 1 cup of something, but rather 100 grams or so. I'm going to have to post a conversion chart somewhere handy...otherwise, my bread will never turn out right. Actually, I've managed so far by using ratios (2 parts this to 1 part that), but I expect this will only take me so far...