Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

Tomorrow I will have been back in the United States for one month. 

My final week in Galway went differently than I expected.  The only unfortunate difference was the weather.  I had hoped to take one of my routine walks every day to “say goodbye” to familiar sights.  Unfortunately, copious rain and wind extinguished those hopes.  My walking that week was limited to getting me where I needed to go. 

On the positive side, I was able to conclude my business with the electric company, bank and my landlord swiftly and easily.  I was pleased to finally meet my landlord, Brendan, and his wife the day I left Galway.  They arrived to review the apartment, give me back my (full!) deposit, and collect the apartment keys.   Brendan thanked me for taking good care of the apartment and that felt great.  Brendan was kind enough to drive me to the coach station so that I didn’t need to take a taxi. 

The day before I left Galway, I attended my last knitting class.  The atmosphere was more celebratory than work-focused.   One of the students, Teresa, provided cupcakes for the group and two sisters, Nora and Bridie, gave me a mug as a going away gift.  The mug said “Keep Knitting.”  I was moved by their gift. 

Knitting class on the last day

Mug from Nora and Bridie

I was instructed by the apartment building rental agency that I was to take out every single thing I brought in.  While I was cleaning and packing I realized that my dish drainer was made entirely of metal.  An idea was born.  On my way to Mass that last day, I carried my dish drainer outside and threw it on the scrap heap.   It felt right.  

My dish drainer on the scrap heap

Kevin picked me up at the airport in Lincoln after 11:00 PM on the night of May 30.  He did a great deal to make my transition back home as easy as possible.  He mowed my lawn, bought me groceries and had flowers waiting for me in my house.  Kevin also hosted a house re-warming party at my house to which he invited my department members.  After everyone carried all my boxes and crates upstairs, we ate grilled burgers, etc.  I greatly appreciate the efforts of my friends/colleagues.

Welcome home flowers from Kevin

The three NWU seniors who lived in my house took extremely good care of it.  I feel blessed to have had such a terrific group of young women rent my home while I was gone. 

I am extremely happy to be home.  It has been wonderful to reconnect with friends.  I also visited Michigan and was able to spend time with my family and some friends.  I wish I could have seen everyone, but time was, sadly, limited.  Hopefully I will be able to connect with more people over Christmas. 

I have been falling in love with my house once again.  Interestingly, I am looking at my house with new eyes and purging even more possessions.  I am thrilled with my yard.  I love my trees and the unfolding landscaping project.  I love to travel but I am, at heart, a home-body.

It's not an otter, but I was happy to see the squirrels still crash on the tree in my front yard

It's not a seagull, but it's beautiful

My roses were in full bloom when I returned to Lincoln

The view from my front window is not of working docks, but it makes me feel peaceful

Numerous people have asked me if I miss Galway.  My answer has been, “not yet.”  However, when I was in Michigan, I celebrated my birthday with my family.  After reading a card made by my mom that listed many of the things I experienced in Ireland, my dad presented me with four large prints of pictures he took of the docks in Galway.  I started to cry; it was the first time I had missed Galway since I had left.

I feel blessed to have four cities I call home.  Grand Rapids and other parts of West Michigan will always be my first home.  I have lived in Lincoln now for fifteen years and it is most definitely my home.  After my first sabbatical in Italy, Florence also feels like a home to me.  I expect to feel the same way when I return to Galway in the future. 

And I will return. 

           “Ireland, sir, for good or evil, is like no other place under heaven, 

and no man can touch its sod or  

           breathe its air without becoming better or worse.”  

-George Bernard Shaw

Cardinal Direction

Last week I traveled around Ireland with my Aunt Shirley and cousin, Denise. I had hoped to blog about the experience immediately upon my return, but I first turned my attention to editing all the photographs from the trip—591 of them. 

Almost everything we did was new to me and I suppose I have waited several days to write about this trip because my hope was to capture every minute of the fun and adventure.  This task felt daunting.  How could I write about every beautiful scene, every friendly Irish person, every story, every history lesson, every silly thing we laughed at, every sheep and cow grazing in the fields…?  I don’t think I can without writing a book. 

Also challenging was the task of naming this blog entry.  Aunt Shirley, Denise and I batted some ideas around during our last few days.  I was most struck by what Denise wrote in a postcard; she pointed out that on the trip we had visited all the coasts of Ireland:  Belfast to the north, Dublin to the east, Cork to the south, and Galway and the Ring of Kerry to the west.  I searched “north south east west” on Google and learned that these are called “Cardinal direction.”

North: 

On our trip north we experienced a combination of breathtaking scenery and history.  We visited the Giant’s Causeway and the Carrick–a-Rede (means “rock in the road”) rope bridge.  In Belfast we toured the area where the Titanic was built.  The Titanic and her two sister ships were modern marvels and the workers were very proud of their accomplishment.  Most notable to me was the phrase, “When she left here, she was fine.”  I was fascinated to see how Northern Ireland differed from the Republic of Ireland.  We saw many murals depicting “the troubles.” 

Giant's Causeway

The walk to the Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge

Denise and Aunt Shirley on the bridge

The room where the Titanic and her sister ships were designed

Belfast mural

East:

Dublin was our home base during this trip.  We were in the city during an interesting time. The Queen of England was visiting and, as we left, the city was preparing for a visit by Barack Obama.  From what I can gather in the media and from talking with people, both visits were extremely successful.  The people of Dublin, though, put up with quite a bit of inconvenience as security for both trips was tight.  The Queen’s visit, in particular, was a challenge because it lasted several days.  President Obama was only in Ireland for one day.  We returned to Dublin on the evening of the Queen’s state dinner and almost all traffic in the center of the city was shut down.  We attempted to take a taxi from the train station to our hotel but our driver told us he could not get us there.  The driver shared some, ahem, “colorful” words about the Queen’s visit.  Surely taxi drivers were among the most inconvenienced.  He dropped us off near a tram stop and, one minute later, the trams stopped running.  We had no choice but to walk the mile and a half to our hotel.  That’s not all that far, but after a long trip and carrying our backpacks, it was a little taxing.  When we got to our hotel we were able to see the Queen’s entourage drive by.  This marks the second time I have been in the same city as the Queen of England and the second time I have seen the Queen.  Okay, I didn’t SEE the Queen this time, but I saw her car.  I think that counts.

Trams stopped while the Queen visited

Security for the Queen's visit

I'm pretty sure the Queen is in this car

South:

Though we were only there a short time, I loved the city of Cork.  We visited the harbor at Cobh were we toured the Heritage Center which featured the story of emigration from Ireland.  When the Irish left their island in the 1800s, they knew they were likely leaving for good.  Parting was excruciatingly sad.  It’s hard for me to imagine considering how difficult it was for me to leave my home and loved ones for a year. 

Blarney Castle.
Warning:  I kissed the Blarney Stone

Annie Moore, the first immigrant to be processed at Ellis Island.
She departed from Cobh, Ireland.

West:

One of the most exciting events of the trip was during our tour of the Ring of Kerry.  We stopped to see a sheep dog demonstration.   I was utterly fascinated.  The shepherd who trains the dogs, border collies, demonstrated how the dogs herd sheep based on his word and whistle commands.  Each dog has his or her own commands so he can direct them separately.  These dogs are SMART.  I have never seen anything like it.  After the herding demonstration, the shepherd showed us sheep of many different breeds.  As we climbed back on the bus I thought to myself, “THAT was incredible.  The only thing that would have made it better is if I had seen a little lamb up close.”  We saw many lambs from the bus windows and they looked adorable.  As we approached our next stop, a photo opportunity, our tour guide mentioned there would be a man sitting in the parking lot with a lamb that we could hold.  I almost didn’t believe my ears.  Sure enough, the man had a three-week old lamb.  I first asked if I could take a picture and then he asked if I wanted to hold it.  I was in heaven.  This moment is on the list of the top five things that have happened this year. 

Border collie herding sheep

Shepherd showing different breeds of sheep

Little lamb

I have left out so many sites, sounds and stories from this trip…  My aunt and cousin’s visit came at just the right time.  Our jaunt around the island felt like my last Irish hurrah.  I had been working so hard on my book that it also felt good to get away and clear my mind.  Aunt Shirley and Denise are excellent travel partners.  I look forward to exploring another part of the world with them soon.

The last night of our trip we attended a night of storytelling and music at the oldest pub in Dublin, the Brazen Head.  We had great fun.  Our storyteller, John, shared Irish tradition and history along with the stories he told.  John told us a lot about how stories of fairies taught important lessons.  For example, if a person has a good heart and is kind, that person will be rewarded.  I’m sure Aunt Shirley and Denise will be abundantly rewarded by the fairies!

And Now for Something Completely Different

Research Materials boxed for shipment back to the US

 After a great deal of intensive work on my book, I am happy to report a respite.  My Aunt Shirley and cousin Denise arrive in Galway this afternoon.  I am ready for some fun!!!!!

I will attend my last knitting class this morning.  I can hardly believe I have only been knitting for two months.  I so enjoy it and think about it all the time.  I remember clearly how excited I was at the end of my first class that I had knit an inch of stitches—the beginning of a headband.  Today we are going to learn how to put a thumb into a fingerless glove.  Oh boy! 

What I accomplished at my first class

That first project completed

I am surprised by how much I enjoy knitting because I tend to despise repetitive tasks.  This feels different to me, though.  There is something about watching a project grow beneath the needles…  The joy of creative expression, perhaps? 

Hat

Headband with cables and bobbles

Scarf made with yarn I purchased in Paris

Tomorrow Aunt Shirley, Denise and I will venture to the Cliffs of Moher.  On Monday we travel to Dublin.  We will take two rail tours from Dublin which will take us to places none of us have been:  Belfast, the Giant’s Causeway, Cork, the Ring of Kerry, Blarney Castle, etc.  I’m very excited!

When I return to Galway a week from tomorrow, I will have only one week left of my time in Ireland.  During that week I will finish “closing up” activities.   I also hope to edit the final three chapters of my book. 

I have a long road of reference and quote checking ahead of me this summer, but most of my work is complete.  I am very happy and ready to kick back and relax!

The Dock of the Bay

Sittin’ in the mornin’ sun

I’ll be sittin’ when the evenin’ come

Watching the ships roll in

And then I watch ‘em roll away again, yeah

I’m sittin’ on the dock of the bay

Watching the tide roll away

Ooo, I’m just sittin’ on the dock of the bay

Wastin’ time

                                    -(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay, Otis Redding           

I have spent my sabbatical year sittin’ on the dock of the bay.  My favorite spot has been a chair by a window that overlooks the Galway docks, marina, harbor and Galway Bay.  More than any place, this is what I will think of when I recall my time in Ireland. 

My spot on the dock of Galway Bay

Unlike the narrator in the song, I have not been wasting time.  About a week ago I finished a complete draft of my book.  I spent this last week going over materials, including every interview transcript, to make sure I haven’t left out anything important.  I begin the editing process tomorrow. 

I feel like my spot, on the dock of the bay, nourished me for my work.

As my time in Ireland draws to a close and I busy myself with the details of leaving, I find myself remembering the first time I walked into this apartment.  Kevin and I had seen a number of places and when we stepped foot into this apartment, we both knew.  This was it.  

The first few weeks, when everything was strange, I told myself that soon this place would feel familiar.  And it was.  However, one of the things I have loved the most about my location is how the world outside my window is in constant motion. 

            It’s two thousand miles I roamed

            Just to make this dock my home

            Now, I’m just gonna sit at the dock of the bay

            Watching the tide roll away

            Oooo- wee, sittin, on the dock of the bay

            Wastin’ time. 

Murphy's Law

                        Nothing is as easy as it looks.

                        Everything takes longer than you expect.

                        And if anything can go wrong,

                        it will at the worst possible moment. 

I read recently that the phrase, “the luck of the Irish,” has its origins in the United States and actually refers to bad luck.  The phrase has many meanings, but I have been thinking about luck and curses lately because of a series of events that unfolded right outside my apartment window.  The story actually starts elsewhere in Ireland.

Due, I believe, to bankruptcy, two almost-new ferries worth 6 million euro were sold at the reported price of 1 million euro to owners on the island of Mauritius which is located near Madagascar.  These ferries were to be transported by ship to Mauritius. 

The first stroke of bad luck occurred when the Pantanal, the ship that was supposed to transport the ferries, hit some rocks and suffered damage.  That ship was moored in Galway Bay near Mutton Island for a week while the damages were repaired. 

A second ship, the Thor Gitta from Denmark, stood in and arrived in Galway to pick up the ferries.  On April 7, 2011, a second accident occurred.  While people stood on the docks and watched the loading of the first ferry, the ferry fell forty feet into the water when one of the slings holding it snapped.  Right before the accident, I had been standing on my balcony watching and taking pictures.  I turned to go back inside and get my knitting.  When I looked back out the window, the ferry had fallen and all the boats in the marina were rocking from the impact of the ferry when it hit the water. 

People gathered to watch the loading of the ferries

I am grateful I did not see the actual accident because the most horrifying part was knowing that there were three men onboard the ferry when it fell.  That was all I could think of after the accident.  I watched harbor personnel secure the ferry and ambulances and other emergency vehicles arrive.  I was relieved to learn the injuries sustained by the three men were not life threatening.  Still…  The Galway Harbour Board launched in inquiry into the accident.  The harbourmaster was quoted as having said the three men should not have been on the ferry when it was being lifted.   Indeed. 

The ferry right before it fell 40 feet into Galway Marina, you can see people on the ferry, to the left

Emergency responders

By now people began to refer to the ferries as “cursed” and there was great interest in the matter.   A large crowd gathered at the docks to watch the second attempt to load the ferries on Saturday, April 16.  This attempt was aborted when an alarm sounded on one the cranes.

Crowds gathered at the docks to watch the second attempt to load the ferries

After testing the cranes, the first ferry was finally loaded onto the Thor Gitta on April 20.  Securing the ferry took longer than expected, so the second ferry was not loaded until the next day.  Many people walked or drove to the docks to take a look at the ferries after they were loaded onto the Thor Gitta. 

Successfully loading the first ferry

Both ferries aboard the Thor Gitta

On Easter Sunday, April 23 at 8:45 AM, the Thor Gitta left Galway Marina with the two ferries onboard.  A small number of people waved the ship goodbye.  The trip to Mauritius, which will involve stops in France (for some ferry repair work), Congo, Cape Town and Mozambique, is scheduled to take 25 days. 

The Thor Gitta set sail on Easter morning

The Thor Gitta has been traveling for one week now.  I hope any luck on the journey is good luck.  

The Service of Light

Five weeks from today I will lock the door of my Galway apartment for the last time.  After saying a fond farewell to the docks, the marina, the harbor and the bay, I will climb aboard a bus bound for Dublin.  The next day I will leave Ireland and, late that night, I will be home in Lincoln, Nebraska. 

These next five weeks will be quite full and I am sure they will pass quickly.  Week four, my Aunt Shirley and my cousin, Denise, arrive in Ireland for a visit and week five I address all departure details (e.g. closing my bank account and donating my household items). 

I have three weeks left to work on my sabbatical project.  My goal is to finish a draft of my book along with one rigorous self-edit.  I can do it.  As I approach this goal I am both excited and weary.  It’s been a long journey. 

For those of you who might not know, I am writing about Roman Catholic Church reform in the diocese of Lincoln, Nebraska.  I focus on two organizations, Catholics for Active Liturgical Life and Call To Action Nebraska.  In 1996 the bishop of Lincoln, Fabian Bruskewitz, excommunicated the members of twelve different organizations, including Call To Action and Call To Action Nebraska.  I am a member of both.  If I lived any place else in the world beside the diocese of Lincoln, I would be a member of the church in good standing.  Though I choose not to recognize the excommunication as valid, it has impacted my life. 

Yesterday, Holy Saturday, I finished going through the last of four binders of documentary data.  I wrote about a number of things, including the fact that in October 2009, I received a letter from my pastor in Lincoln who told me that he was removing me from parish membership because of my involvement in Call To Action.  He asked me to meet with him.  I did.  At that meeting he told me he was instructed by the bishop to deny me communion.  This is not an easy thing to have happen and it wasn’t an easy thing to write about. 

I went to my favorite liturgy of the year, the Easter Vigil, last night, with that event on my mind.  I arrived early and was pleased to see that my favorite spot was unoccupied.  Just as I started to sit down, Fr. Dick said from across the church, “Oh, Rachel.  Come here.”  He asked a young woman, Ella, and me to participate in the liturgy by carrying lanterns during the part of the liturgy called the Service of Light.  We processed, carrying lit lanterns, to the altar from opposite sides of the church where two other people dressed the altar.  We then processed outside where Fr. Dick lit the Easter fire, blessed it and lit the Easter candle.

After spending the day thinking about getting, quite literally, expelled from the church in Lincoln, this small event held great significance to me.  It felt wonderful to be counted on to help out when a need arose.  Fr. Dick knows about my situation and that didn’t stop him from including me. 

The Service of the Light, it seems, did me a service as well. 

So high were my Easter spirits that I returned to St. Augustine’s for the 11:00 AM mass today.  The church smelled like fresh flowers and the choir was in fine form. 

After mass and the post-mass coffee/tea/biscuit/conversation gathering (at which I told Fr. Dick what I wrote about above), I had a lovely lunch at a Thai restaurant near my apartment.  I then went for a stroll in the sunshine. 

                        Accept this Easter candle,

                        a flame divided but undimmed,

                        a pillar of fire that glows to the honor of God.

                        Let it mingle with the lights of heaven

                        and continue bravely burning

                        to dispel the darkness of this night!

                                                -From the Exsultet, chanted at the Easter Vigil

Easter flowers from Mom and Dad

Babies!

                        Health and a long life to you.

                        Land without rent to you.

                        A child every year to you.

                        And if you can’t go to heaven,

                        May you at least die in Ireland.

                                                            -An Irish Blessing

I have been taken with the children of Ireland since soon after my arrival.  First, I find them remarkably hale and hearty and, with the exception of (perhaps universal?) occasional bad grocery store behavior, genial.  Second, there seems to be an abundance of children and pregnant women.

I wondered if there are more children in Ireland or if I was just more likely to see children here than at home.  In Ireland I walk in the park and through the city center and to the grocery store and post office, etc.  In the U.S., I walk on my treadmill and drive around in my car.  I don’t pay a lot of attention to who is in the cars around me.  For all I know, they are bursting with babies and children. 

As it turns out, I really am seeing a lot of children.  Ireland’s birth rate (16.8 per 1000) is the highest in the European Union (average of 10.7 per 1000).  In contrast, the 2009 U.S. birth rate (13.5 per 1000) fell to its lowest level in a century.

Recently I saw a report that stated that in 2008, 73,996 babies were born in Ireland.  This is the largest number in one year since 1980.  The report speculated that the baby boom might be due to the good economic times Ireland recently experienced.  Perhaps couples put off having their first child while they became established in their careers.  The most popular age for women giving birth in 2008 fell between 30 and 34 (up from the late 20s and early 30s).

Perhaps the recession will impact the number of children born in the near future.  The high birth rate will certainly impact the economy during what is already a difficult time; it will strain childcare, education and health services. Ireland has the largest number of people leaving the country in the European Union (9 per 1000).  Lithuania has the second highest outflow and their number is just under half of Ireland’s.

Now that the days are longer and the weather has taken a turn for the lovely, I expect to see even more young children out and about in the parks and on the street and, God help their parents, in the grocery store.