It's Getting Better

Life is improving here in Galway. I mentioned in my last post about meeting with Yvonne, the Ph.D. candidate studying human rights law. Well, yesterday I got a text from her asking if I wanted to join her friends for dinner. Of course I took her up on the idea, and we made (well, she wouldn't let me cook because I was a guest!) chicken curry with mushrooms, orange pepper, onion, garlic, and some coconut milk. VERY tasty! She had just moved into a new flat on Monday—a place she found on the Internet—and she hadn't really gotten a chance to meet her flatmate, the one who advertised the space. They met when she moved in, but he had been at college working on his Master's thesis all week. Last night, though, he joined us for the second half of dinner, and one of Yvonne's good friends Steven joined us too. Steven brought his friend Patty (a man, derived from Patrick).

We had a great conversation. Patty and Steven are from The North (read: Northern Ireland, though they don't consider it another country). We talked a lot about The Troubles (1948-1998) and the IRA. While officially the IRA isn’t conducting an active campaign anymore, apparently the reason that the conflict ended (in a nutshell) was that so many people lost the political cause. Instead of fighting a noble war, groups splintered off because of greed. Many suspect that much of the petty crime that happens around the country (the Republic and the North) is committed by these splinter groups. One of them, known for the Omagh bombing (committed after the Good Friday Agreement in 1998), calls itself The Real IRA. Contrary to popular thought, though, the Real IRA and IRA are very different from one another. The lads at dinner were talking about how annoyed they are with foreigners' support of the IRA; many foreigners, they said, think they are supporting a very noble group and cause, but really they're supporting violent criminals that lost the noble fight a long time ago. Patty and Steven also said that they still face a lot of prejudice from others in Ireland, who see those from The North as foreigners. As I said, though, Patty and Steven consider themselves from the region known as The North, but not from the country of Northern Ireland. They treated me to some "tonic wine," a drink popular with the younger students in Ireland, which tastes much like port, though (in typical Irish fashion!) it was bitterer. Still good, though! It costs about €9, so maybe I'll bring some back to share with some friends. I asked if the wine would keep longer than one night, and they looked at me like I was crazy.

"What?," I said.

"Well, you'd want to finish it in one night," Patty said. "Oh ok—" I began, before Patty interrupted, "If you'd want to have a good time."

I expected a round of laughter, but just received nodding heads!

They were a fun bunch, and we had a great time in a local pub called 903.

I ended up staying awake until roughly 06:00, talking to folks from GW and organizing my room a bit. I, in Corbb fashion, slept until about 15:30 (3:30 p.m.)! Oh that felt good...

Tonight I started what is hopefully the first of many dinner nights. Brendan, Claire, and I cooked a chicken, broccoli, and alfredo-like sauce. We were following an American cookbook, but we had an American measuring cup, so we didn't realize it would be any different. We went to pre-heat the oven, though, and then realized we had to convert to metric! Luckily, I remembered Mrs. Julis' seventh-grade lesson on (9/5)C+32=F and did this calculation by hand on the back of a letter from their landlord. (Apparently the landlord is not a fan of people having parties because neighbours get quite upset, and there was a "rather loud" gathering the first night all the Irish students returned. My friends all told me that the "gathering" was not loud at all, considering few could hear but a hum in their apartments from the courtyard. Menlo Apartments, though, are very strict and don't tolerate any sort of parties or gatherings. I don't know if our dinner was a gathering or not, but we'll find out in a few days if we get a letter, I suppose!)

Brendan and I had a nice walk tonight after dinner. We walked into town and along the main drag, Shoppe Street, where many of the pubs and local businesses are located. I went down to the Spanish Arch for the first time, one of four structures like it built in the 1500s. I'll have to try to see that one in more light than just the moonlight, for it sounds pretty intricate. I was surprised at first to see so few people on the street and in the pubs, that is until I realized that all the Irish students—especially those from County Mayo, just North of County Galway—had gone home for the weekend. It was still busy enough to be fun, but certainly less crazy than the last several nights. That walk was after a delicious dessert at Supermac's—a virtual copycat of McDonald's even featuring a Supermac, which looks precisely the same as a Big Mac. We got Muffin Sundaes, a chocolate muffin warmed and covered in ice cream. Mmmm. I want another one just writing about it!

I had a dream about Phoenix last night. As much as I would love to have his help navigating these streets, I don't think the environment would be very good for him. The pubs are loud and crowded most nights (when the students are in town), so even if the pub owners let him in, I think it would be stressful for him. I miss him, though, and look at a picture of guide dogs—a card that my Dad gave me before getting on the plane—every morning. Hopefully he will still want to work when I get back home. I've realized on this trip how much I rely on his help, even when I don't realize it. My cane skills are great...when I am in a familiar area. He just simplifies so many things. It's too bad he can't understand my apology!

I hope all is well with you. Please do e-mail me and tell me what you are up to! I'm heading to the Galway farmers' market in the morning and will write about that soon.