Getting a Hang of this Irish School Thing

As I entered my second week of school, I got a better feel and understanding of my classes. Most of my classes are history centered and cover most of Irish history, from Celtic history in the Middle Ages to Early Modern Ireland after the Middle Ages and then Ireland since 1800. Can you tell I am a history major? When I am not in a history class, I am either in Conversion, Sin and Virtue, a class filled only with Saint Mary’s girls and seminarians, Political Geography, where I have learned an extensive amount of the Irish political system and how the Irish see American politics, or at my one credit course for just Saint Mary’s girls. Although I am learning an abundance of information from the Irish perspective, the classes are lecture based and allow for no class discussion, unless there is an additional tutorial session for that class and I miss being able to contribute my ideas in class. My classes are squished into Monday through Wednesday and I am thankful for my four day weekends. Amidst this second week of class, were some adventures that accompany living independently.

            First off, Monday was registration day, meaning that I had to solidify my course pickings by an office worker inputting my information and classes into the computer program. Now I am an official student at the National University of Ireland at Maynooth! Besides going to class, registration was probably the highlight of my day. Tuesday rolled around and began with an early mandatory tutorial session on Early Modern Ireland and Great Britain with Kathleen, where we examined a document on religion and I didn’t learn anything new except that my grad school tutor thinks very highly of his history knowledge. I did learn in Political Geography that day that the U.S. presidential election is like the “X Factor” according to my Irish professor. To top my Tuesday night off it was my turn to cook dinner, so I made some delicious pork chops with baked potatoes for my friends. Wednesday not only held more classes, but also an additional tutorial for Celtic History, where these older women students dominated the session with obscure questions that distracted from the point of tutorials. As a celebration of finishing another week of class, Kathleen and I ventured to Tesco, Ireland’s version of Walmart, to find some American sounding snacks that we have not been able to find at Aldi. I considered our trip somewhat successful due to the finding of Hershey’s cookies and crème bars, Ritz crackers and Frosted Flakes, but sadly no equivalent to Goldfish. I am still outraged that Ireland does not know the beauty that is Goldfish; I mean they are the snack that smiles back!

Pork Chops and baked potato dinner. YUM

I love eating celery for lunch, especially with my American peanut butter!

            With Thursday being the start of my weekend, I slept in and after resting throughout most of the day, we decided to go out to The Roost, one of the local pubs, for some dancing and listening to the live band that night. I had a pretty good time, dancing and singing, and will definitely be returning on future Thursdays. By Friday, Kathleen and I wanted a treat for surviving another week in Ireland, so we decided to walk a mile to McDonald’s for lunch. We were desperately craving Coke and something that tasted like home. Best decision for lunch I have ever made. The coke and fries were heavenly and the atmosphere of the restaurant was a lot friendlier than at most fast food chains back home. The week went by with me learning a lot about Irish schooling and adult living, and I am getting on pretty well. 

We color coordinate at the club 

Selfie at the pub?

Freaking good American food. 

Discovering Dublin

I pried my eyes open to feel the warmth of the rising sunrays streaming in through the sides of my shade. It was an early start to the day, but I knew today held an adventure in its grasps. Today, the Saint Mary’s girls were required to go into Dublin to visit three heritage sights of our choosing, without a tour guide. With a week of classes and a few guided tours behind us, it was time for us to plan our own trip in the city. Anticipation fluttering in my stomach, I got myself ready for the trip to Dublin. Once ready, I met up outside with a whole host of smicks, including my lovely roommate, Kathleen, and we were off towards the bus stop in town. As luck would have it, no sooner had we arrived at the bus stop, which is almost a mile away from my apartment, I realized that I had left my heritage card that permits me to go into the heritage sites for free in my room. I checked the time, 10:08, meaning I had twenty-two minutes to run back to my apartment, grab my card, and make it back before the bus arrived. Challenge accepted. I quickly told Kathleen my dilemma, and being the incredible friend that she is, she risked her missing the bus as well to accompany me back to the apartment. We ran down the cobble-stoned road, then Kathleen, realizing that my asthma was acting up in the frigid, damp fog that had settled upon the sleepy town, shouted to me that she would run ahead as I kept my lungs under control.  Kathleen managed to get far enough ahead of me that I couldn’t make out her tall figure through the dense fog, which only worried my panicked mind even more. Did I just put my friend in danger’s clutches? What if someone took advantage of the thick fog and kidnapped her? By the time I jogged up to the apartment I was trembling in a nervous sweat and breathing heavily; however I saw Kathleen descending the stairs with my heritage card in her hand. I thanked her over and over again as we made our way back to the bus stop, praying repeatedly that my forgetfulness did not cause us to have to wait another hour for the next bus. Thankfully, as Kathleen rounded the corner of the main street she smiled excitedly because the bus had not arrived. The bus showed up minutes after we returned from our foggy adventure and we boarded the bus.

On the bus safely

             The bus was a skinny blue and yellow double decker. We sat on the top hoping to get the best views of the Irish landscape, waiting for the last stop in Dublin, Merrion Square. I stepped off the bus with confidence that I could navigate our group to the first heritage site, St. Stephen’s Green. With only a few directional mishaps, we made it inside the garden. We strolled through the sunlit paths, trying to warm up our chilled bones, observing the fountains, duck ponds, and the many birds that fluttered around the park. After our stroll, Kat was freezing so we made our way into a shopping centre. One of the shops was a large Irish gift shop, so we of course rummaged through the aisles, finding all of the Irish knickknacks and souvenirs. Knowing that we had two more heritage sites to see, we left the warmth of the store and on our way to the next site, Iveagh Gardens.

Shadows at a duck pond

Entry way to St, Stephan's Green

            These gardens were located in a tucked away corner of Dublin. Although the dried ivy and the large fountains were magnificent, their true splendor would have shown better in the warmer days of spring. We still meandered our way through the park, admiring the landscaping until our stomachs rumbled, calling us for lunch. Decidedly hungry, we made our way down the infamous Grafton Street to find some place to eat. Walking into a pub, who do we find? No other than another group of smicks, so we sat to grab a bite of chicken tenders with our fellow school girls.

Does someone live here or can it be me?

Iveagh Gardens

So candid Kath

            After a refreshing meal I single handedly navigated our group to Dublin Castle. Walking through the cobblestone streets of Dublin, lined with chic boutiques and quirky cafes, I knew I had to return to the city to go inside all of the shops. Once inside the grounds of Dublin Castle, we asked to go on a tour, and were personally escorted to the tour that had just begun. Finally a part of the official tour, we walked through the castle with the tour guide pointing out the functionality of the different parts of the castle and the State Department. The State Department was ornately decorated with large portraits of prominent Irish and English dukes to queens, and each room had a historical story to share. Astounded by the amount of historical events that took place within those walls, I was made speechless throughout most of the tour.

The courtyard of Dublin Castle.

"Have fun storming the castle!"

The tower wall that has survived since the 12th century

Would a State Department tour really been complete without a mirror selfie?

            Such pretty chandeliers.

            At the conclusion of the tour, we decided to do some shopping. There is a store chain in Ireland called Penney’s that sells clothes and accessories super cheaply, so of course we college students had to take the opportunity to find some bargains. We ventured across the River Liffey that divides Dublin into North and South quadrants in search of Penney’s. As we stepped foot in the store we were blown away by the mass volumes of clothes and their inexpensive price tags. Kathleen immediately managed to find a sweatshirt and some cute shoes for a total of €11! I honestly was too overwhelmed and did not desperately need any new clothes, so I did not end up buying anything. Having walked so far, and learned so much we were ready to leave Dublin and return home. Unsure exactly where the bus stopped to pick us up, we wandered down O’Connell Street and across the bridge as the sky darkened until we found a sign that stated the bus would arrive in 45 minutes. Thankfully there was a Starbucks right there, so we went in and ordered a cup of coffee to warm up our chilled bones while we waited for the bus. With only fifteen minutes till departure we walked back outside, looked up at the same automated sign to see that our bus, number 66, had disappeared. Confused and anxious, we knew that the bus could not have arrived this early and we missed it. We debated waiting around or finding another bus stop, and  eventually decided to wait in a nearby gift shop, and as we entered the shop, I looked back up at the sign and saw the 66 bus back up and arriving in seven minutes. Relieved, I called to my group of friends and we stayed outside until the double decker pulled up to the curb. I deposited the correct change in the ticket stall and took my seat on the full bus next to a stranger, behind my friends. As the bus made its way out of the city and back to Maynooth, I was happy about this adventure in Dublin.

Crossing the river.

Warm cup of coffee, so necessary after a long day.

            

At the Farm

First weeks of school are generally the same. You wake up with a bit of anticipation and excitement in the pit of your stomach, mainly because you’re afraid that you woke up late for class, but in fact you will probably be at least twenty minutes early to your first class. As you tread through campus you wonder if you are heading the right way, you still are unsure of where exactly your first lecture is, but you find it with the help of friends who are just as nervous as you are. Despite all of the uncertainty you manage to bounce between North and South campus to get to all of your classes on time, and before you know it you have successfully completed another first day of school. That is pretty much how my first day at NUIM played out, just with a lot of Irish students mixed in. By the end of the week I was more confident in my routine of classes, tutorials and lunch breaks, and ready for the next weekend adventure.

 

On a walk behind the campus.

            Saturday soon arrived and we were taking a trip to Causey Farm to get another look into Irish culture. With a quirky tour guide named Paul, we were first directed to bake Irish brown bread. Tossing eggs and measuring ingredients in heaps was a new take on baking. While our bread was in the oven, we were guided to a dimly lit room in a barn, lined with wooden benches and taught an Irish jig by Paul. Forty American girls on a dance floor skipping and laughing in time to the traditional Irish music was definitely a sight! After dancing to our hearts’ content we were herded outside and shown the different animals on the farm, including cows, rabbits, horses, chickens, geese and of course sheep. I did get to briefly hold a hen until it flew out of my grasp.

Baking bread!

Some of the animals we met!

            Once we finished meeting and smelling the animals, we hopped on a hay ride to the nearby bog. Although the bog looks like a mud pit, it actually contains no oxygen and is really good for the skin. Some SMC girls put some bog mud on their faces in hopes that it would clear up their face. I personally, I wanted warm food in my belly instead of bog on my face, and warm food is what I got. Traditional Irish stew, our homemade bread, and then hot tea and English muffins with raspberry jam, was the warm lunch that my body needed after touring the farm.

Dog with a bog

Kathleen and our yummy bread!

            Bellies full, we made our way back to the dark barn and learned how to play the Irish drum, the bodhran, and we weren't half bad. Once our music lesson was complete, we begged Paul to let us see the sheep being herded by the border collies; however we accidentally left the dogs at the bog. So when you are out of sheep dogs and have sheep that need to be herded, you just get some Saint Mary’s girls to herd the sheep. Although the sheep were stubborn to go in the right direction, the girls managed to eventually get them into our human pen, led by none other than my talented roommate Kathleen. She led the sheep in our direction, but some sheep did escape accidentally. After the sheep herding escapade, it was time for our hurling lesson. Hurling is an Irish sport that even after a lesson I still don’t completely understand. It includes hitting a hard ball with a bat over a goal, but that is about all I got. The day was filled with new confrontations with Irish culture and left me exhausted.

Ready to hurl!

Jocelyn at Slightly Higher Altitudes

After two days of orientation, where I felt just like a freshman again, sitting in large lecture halls with other international students and listening to directors explain the nitty gritty of the registration process and campus tours, we finally made it to the weekend. Saturday held a big adventure for us: the Wicklow Mountains and Glendalough. Waking up early once again, I roused myself for the long day ahead, putting on multiple layers of clothing because I knew the mountains would have fierce winds nipping at my skin. Kathleen and I choose to take the van instead of the bus up to the mountains, and stayed awake the entire car ride while the rest of the Saint Mary’s girls dozed off. We passed the time with comments about the beauty of the mountains and valleys, because they possessed an unrealistic splendor under the morning sun.  We then veered off the winding narrow mountain road, and arrived at Glendalough.

 The site of Glendalough, with round tower and stone church.

            Glendalough is a site in the heart of Wicklow Mountains, where in the sixth century Saint Kevin came and prayed in recluse. He attracted many followers and eventually churches were erected leading to its becoming a monastery then a holy site for hundreds of years to come. The Saint Mary’s girls strode through the cemetery, stone churches of the medieval period and around one of the most perfect round towers. Through the crisp air I could sense the importance of this famous place, and imagined the same site hundreds of years ago when it was bustling with ecclesiastic life and prayer.

Just a perfect round tower

Saint Kevin's cross. The legend is that if your hands touch while hugging the cross you will find a husband. My hands did NOT touch. Oh well, no husband for me.

            Once we had all gone through the main sites we were turned lose to explore the lakes and mountain trails in the area. The “squad”, which includes Kathleen, Bridget, Kat and I set off on the path to take pictures and appreciate the raw beauty of the Irish landscape. The lower lake was our first stop for pictures, and then I was accidentally left behind. In order to catch up I had to book it through the trail.  My asthmatic lungs were not appreciative of my fast walking mixed with the bitter cold and the hilly path, but I made it back to them. Reunited with the group, we soon came upon the upper lake, which was even more magnificent than the lower lake. It was situated between two mountains, and as we got near the shore the wind blew in huge gusts, whipping my hat off my head and across the grass. That brutal wind was worth the view though.

Me in front of some mountains, quite casual.

It was super windy by the upper lake, my hat blew off!

            Once pictures were taken on the shore of the upper lake, most of my fellow Belles returned to the car park to await the bus; however Kathleen and I decided it was exploration time. Spotting a bench on the opposite bank of the lake, we decided to find it. We trekked through trees and rocks that lined the water’s edge and up to the bench, not realizing that there was a clear path, complete with stairs that led to that spot. Oh well, we had an adventure, and then returned to the car park to wait with the other girls.

Where's Kathleen? Spot my flatmate!

I totally own this place. 

            Back on the bus with stomachs rumbling we set off to Powerscourt for lunch. I swear that Powerscourt, which includes hotel, resort, magnificent gardens and a waterfall, in some way belongs to my family. I will have to do some genealogical research. Anyways this place was stunning, lunch was in a grand café on site that included a main course, 3 side salads, dessert and hot tea. Perfection, if I do say so myself. With a stomach full of Spanish chicken, salad, carrot cake and tea I was ready to tackle the Powerscourt gardens. These gardens were grand, spreading out over a large area, and divided by different styles of gardening, including Italian, and Japanese. We ambled through the hilly gardens, taking in all its charm even though it was late winter. It was exquisite, and I cannot even imagine its beauty when in full bloom. After hiking through the gardens and taking pictures, we made our way back to the reception lobby to purchase souvenirs. Postcards in hand, and weighed down with exhaustion we clambered back into the busses and drove back to campus, where I proceeded to take a two and a half hour nap. Anything that happened after our return home was lost in a drowsy blur. 

These are all of my gardens!

Group picture! Kat, Bridget, Kathleen and I! We cute!

My view from the top of the tower. I felt like Rapunzel! When will my life begin?

Also be sure to check out my video on YouTube!

Out on the Wiley Windy Ireland

Be sure to check out the photo video at the end of this post!
     
          The vibration from my phone’s alarm came all too quickly on Tuesday morning. Eight hours of sleep was definitely not enough for my aching, jetlagged body, yet I managed to drag myself out of bed at 8 a.m. in order to go on our first trip of the year. The Saint Mary’s Ireland program has coordinated multiple trips for their students to take around Ireland during the semester so we can get the most of the study abroad experience. This one however just happened to fall on the day after we arrived in the country and were not recovered from the trip overseas. Haphazardly stumbling around my room and digging through half-emptied suitcases, I was surprisingly able to get myself ready in time to catch the bus. The first stop was the Hill of Tara.

            Walking down the stairs of the bus, and then onto the first hill at the site was a rude awakening to just how cold the Irish wind can be to a girl who just came from a Texas winter of 50 degrees. Chilled to the bone, and fighting the rolling winds I made my way with the group of girls across multiple small hills to the see the Mound of Hostages and the Stone of Destiny. However, due to the howling wind and my slow walking pace I barely heard our tour guide’s stories about the history and legends surrounding the various sites on the Hill of Tara. I did get to make a wish on the Stone of Destiny and the Fairy Tree though. The rest of the Hill of Tara is a blur lost in the frigid gusts of wind.

Just being a super ginger on the Hill of Tara

            Once I regained my footing on the level ground and clambered back onto the bus, we were off to the Hill of Slane. All I could do once we got off at our next destination was look at the grass and the hills in the distance. The grass was lusciously soft, thick and the greenest green I have ever seen. Crayola doesn’t even get close to making an Ireland green crayon.  I am pretty sure that I could discuss the grass for a very long time… Anyways, beyond the green grass lay castle ruins that we climbed and explored. There was a tall tower ruin that I climbed up on the thinnest stone spiral stairwell, where I am so thankful that I did not misstep. Clambering up that tower made me realize that if I lived in this castle and it was under attack I would probably be killed because I can go up or down those steep stairs fast enough. The air soon turned misty as I made my way down the hill and onto the bus.

My flatmate Kathleen and I. Aren't we cute?

Crayola has nothing on this green grass

Relaxing on these ruins

            Mellifont Abbey was next, and had some medieval history that my mind cannot recall because I was fascinated with what was left of the stone structure. I was allowed to explore all of the crevasse and stones left at the site, before we departed for Monasterboice. In County Louth, lies a round tower, and Muiredach’s cross, all a part of Monasterboice. Walking around gravestones, and then seeing these high crosses ornate with depictions of the bible was breathtaking, especially since they date back to tenth century. Even through the bitter wind, the high cross of Ireland is a truly a work of art.

In front of Ireland's many round towers

            After a delicious burger, chips (fries) and a cheesecake topped with fruit at a restaurant where they played a song that I adore, we made our way to Newgrange. Soaking up all I could from the museum exhibit on the history of Newgrange, I educated myself on this world heritage site so I could be well informed when we actually went up to the site. My love for history and museums resulted in me staying quite a long time in the exhibit and almost missing the bus that would take us up to the burial mounds. Upon arriving at the passage grave of Newgrange, I was astounded. The tomb stretches over 280 feet and is made up with megaliths, completely built over 5,000 years ago. I felt as if I had stepped back in time as soon as I was allowed to go insode the passage tomb, ducking and squeezing slightly to avoid bumping my head on the large stones. Completely immersed within the legend of Newgrange, I was blown away by the intact stone carvings and even the graffiti from the 1800s.

At Newgrange

            Spending an entire day visiting these historical sites deserved a night out at the pub, The Roost. Being the indecisive person that I am, plus the fact that my stomach hadn’t fully adjusted to being in Ireland I chose not to buy a drink. Despite my lack in courageousness to try some legal beer, I still enjoyed the new surroundings of the pub life in Ireland. The dim room was very relaxing and put my anxious nerves about the newness at ease. Finally after our table being overcharged for our order, but paying for it anyway out of fear of confrontation, we said goodnight to the pub and found our way back to the apartments for a long overdue sleep. 

A compilation of most of my pictures from January 27