Sunday, which means I should write something here, hmm?
I don't really have much to talk about this week, or at least nothing particularly Irish. The last two weeks have largely been a reminder for me that I really do love Academia. The whole Academic scene is one I feel comfortable with and really enjoy. My social life lately tends to involve going to some lecture or another of an evening and then going for drinks afterward. The past two Thursdays, I have gone to the "Counter-Factual History Series" at the Galway City Museum. (I didn't actually know about the existence of the museum until Thursday last.) These are lectures where a scholar addresses a "What if...?" question. Two weeks ago it was Dr. John Cunningham, my main history professor, talking about what would have happened if Eamon De Valera had been killed and Michael Collins had lived. This past Thursday, Dr. Quincy Lehr discussed the possible outcomes of a Southern victory in the American Civil War.
Nerdy, yes, but these evenings have also turned into almost networking opportunities. I went to the lectures with my friend and neighbor Brianne, a history PhD student here. As it turns out, she actually was a TA for Quincy last semester! He invited us out to a pub after the lecture on Thursday, where I ended up drinking with a bunch of the NUI Galway History faculty, including John Cunningham.
Then, of course, last night I went to The Crane, my official Favorite Pub, with Brianne, where I met several of the other History PhD students, as well as becoming friends with Quincy. It was very fun-- I really enjoyed meeting some new people, as up until now I've only known about four people outside of my MA group. (I do love my MA group, but I see them every day, and sometimes it's nice change things up.) Also, being on friendly terms with the history faculty can only be a good thing. If all goes well, I'm going to be here for three more years after this one. Very few in my MA group are planning on going on for a doctorate, so it's nice to know some people who will be around longer.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
New year, new semester
I just want you to know that you're lucky you even got a 'blog entry today. My internet, always slow, is particularly molasses-in-January pokey today, and I got so frustrated waiting for the 'blog page to load that I almost abandoned it.
Anyway, I am back in Galway, and actually have been for about a week now. The break was lovely-- it was wonderful to see my family and friends-- but it's nice to be back, back to my "real life" of school and reading and Ireland. I was tired, frustrated, and travel-weary after the 12 hours it took me to get from Grand Rapids to Dublin, but as soon as I walked off the plane, I was surrounded by an unquestionable sense of Irishness that felt like a sigh of relief. I really do love this country, and just looking out the window or smelling the air brings an enormous sense of comfort.
This first week back has been largely taken up by the normal "first day of classes" type things-- introductions, short lectures, and syllabi, though thankfully the teachers here don't care to spend much time on the latter and are content to simply hand them out. The most exciting thing that happened was undoubtedly a visit from Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill.
Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill ([nu:lə ni ga:nəl] or "NOO-la NEE GAH-nal") is Ireland's, and therefore the World's, Foremost Irish-Language Poet. She is, simply, a Big Deal when it comes to poetry in Ireland. I actually had the opportunity to meet her once before: on my study abroad in Dublin, she came and talked to our class about the history of Irish. That time, however, I don't think any of our class had had her importance and near-celebrity status impressed on us, and while she read a little of her poetry most of the emphasis wasn't on her. This time, she came to do a private reading for the Irish Studies Centre. Louis De Paor, our fearless leader, arranged it-- I think they might have gone to college together, at University College Cork, back in the '60's. That's what my very tiny knowledge of Irish gathered from Louis' introduction, anyway. Nuala was wonderful. She is very funny and had absolutely no ego about her writing, referring to it as something she had to do, in order to keep sane and express ideas that nag at her. As she put it, she gets a bee in her bonnet about something and it won't go away until she writes about it to her satisfaction.
She read her poetry to us, telling us the stories behind each one. She would read the translation first, frequently stopping to compliment the wonderful way the translator (often Paul Muldoon) had put something-- when asked why she didn't translate her own work, as she is completely bilingual, she replied "I'm not a poet in English!" We are working on some of her work in my Irish class right now, and so I (along with most of my class) brought my copy of her book Spionáin Is Róiseanna ("Gooseberries and Roses") to be signed. When she opened it, it fell open to one of the pages I'd been translating, with glosses written on the lines above the words and translations in the margins. "Oh, that's just my clumsy attempt at translation," I said, embarrassed and worried that she'd actually try to read my gibberish. "No, I love it!" she exclaimed. "Writing in books is wonderful."
Anyway, I am back in Galway, and actually have been for about a week now. The break was lovely-- it was wonderful to see my family and friends-- but it's nice to be back, back to my "real life" of school and reading and Ireland. I was tired, frustrated, and travel-weary after the 12 hours it took me to get from Grand Rapids to Dublin, but as soon as I walked off the plane, I was surrounded by an unquestionable sense of Irishness that felt like a sigh of relief. I really do love this country, and just looking out the window or smelling the air brings an enormous sense of comfort.
This first week back has been largely taken up by the normal "first day of classes" type things-- introductions, short lectures, and syllabi, though thankfully the teachers here don't care to spend much time on the latter and are content to simply hand them out. The most exciting thing that happened was undoubtedly a visit from Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill.
Nuala Ní Dhomhnaill ([nu:lə ni ga:nəl] or "NOO-la NEE GAH-nal") is Ireland's, and therefore the World's, Foremost Irish-Language Poet. She is, simply, a Big Deal when it comes to poetry in Ireland. I actually had the opportunity to meet her once before: on my study abroad in Dublin, she came and talked to our class about the history of Irish. That time, however, I don't think any of our class had had her importance and near-celebrity status impressed on us, and while she read a little of her poetry most of the emphasis wasn't on her. This time, she came to do a private reading for the Irish Studies Centre. Louis De Paor, our fearless leader, arranged it-- I think they might have gone to college together, at University College Cork, back in the '60's. That's what my very tiny knowledge of Irish gathered from Louis' introduction, anyway. Nuala was wonderful. She is very funny and had absolutely no ego about her writing, referring to it as something she had to do, in order to keep sane and express ideas that nag at her. As she put it, she gets a bee in her bonnet about something and it won't go away until she writes about it to her satisfaction.
She read her poetry to us, telling us the stories behind each one. She would read the translation first, frequently stopping to compliment the wonderful way the translator (often Paul Muldoon) had put something-- when asked why she didn't translate her own work, as she is completely bilingual, she replied "I'm not a poet in English!" We are working on some of her work in my Irish class right now, and so I (along with most of my class) brought my copy of her book Spionáin Is Róiseanna ("Gooseberries and Roses") to be signed. When she opened it, it fell open to one of the pages I'd been translating, with glosses written on the lines above the words and translations in the margins. "Oh, that's just my clumsy attempt at translation," I said, embarrassed and worried that she'd actually try to read my gibberish. "No, I love it!" she exclaimed. "Writing in books is wonderful."
Friday, December 14, 2007
Christmas is all around us!
I'm going to be back in the 'States soon! On Sunday, I travel, taking planes trains1 and automobiles. I'm on the same trans-Atlantic flight with Jen, a friend from the program, which is nice-- we're going to try to switch seats to sit near each other. I'm getting in to Grand Rapids, my final destination, late at night. And then I'll be in Michigan 'till the 11th of January! I might not write in the 'blog during that time; after all, its purpose is supposedly to record my life abroad, not in the tiny village where I grew up.
This past weekend, I spent most of my time writing, or researching for, my final essay. Saturday night, though, I got to take a break, because some friends of the family were in town. Steve Cousins and his friend Joe were visiting Ireland, and my mother gave Steve my phone number in case they made it to Galway. They did, and on Saturday night they wanted me to show them around. All I can say is: man those guys are good craic. Hanging out with Steve and Joe is the definition of good craic.
We went to dinner at a seafood restaurant on Quay street, after wandering around pretty much the whole downtown area. Afterward, I took them to The Crane, which has officially become my favorite pub. I knew there would be a trad session going, and since Steve and Joe are both musicians I figured that would be the best thing to show them. When we got there, though, there was an actual event on. It turned out to be John Renbourn, the guitarist from The Pentangle! The Pentangle was a band that my parents loved when I was growing up, playing folk-jazz type stuff, and the song he was playing when we walked in was"Lord Franklin," one of my favorite folk songs they did. He's probably one of the better classical guitarists in the world. Steve, Joe, and I were all very impressed.
After he finished, there was the requisite trad session. It was fun, not particularly exceptional... until one of the fiddle players shushed everyone and then started singing, sean-nos style. Sean-nos, or "old style," is the "traditional" style of singing in Ireland, very lilty and ballad-like, and it's quite rare to hear these days, especially in a big city like Galway. I turned to Joe and Steve and informed them that they were very lucky indeed to hear it. It was an excellent night overall.
And now, a couple pictures, from Galway at Christmastime.
First, by popular2 demand, a photo of Virginie and I:
Flatmates!
The streets of downtown Galway have all been decorated with lights... it's very beautiful.
(Sorry it's so blurry, night photography is not my strong suit. Actually photography overall is not my strong suit.)
There are also large Christmas trees scattered around, like this one in Eyre Square:
And, finally, taken just today... the winter sun over Galway Bay.
1: I'm actually not taking any trains, for once, unless you count airport trams. Just buses, cars, and airplanes.
2: And by "popular," I mean "maternal."
This past weekend, I spent most of my time writing, or researching for, my final essay. Saturday night, though, I got to take a break, because some friends of the family were in town. Steve Cousins and his friend Joe were visiting Ireland, and my mother gave Steve my phone number in case they made it to Galway. They did, and on Saturday night they wanted me to show them around. All I can say is: man those guys are good craic. Hanging out with Steve and Joe is the definition of good craic.
We went to dinner at a seafood restaurant on Quay street, after wandering around pretty much the whole downtown area. Afterward, I took them to The Crane, which has officially become my favorite pub. I knew there would be a trad session going, and since Steve and Joe are both musicians I figured that would be the best thing to show them. When we got there, though, there was an actual event on. It turned out to be John Renbourn, the guitarist from The Pentangle! The Pentangle was a band that my parents loved when I was growing up, playing folk-jazz type stuff, and the song he was playing when we walked in was"Lord Franklin," one of my favorite folk songs they did. He's probably one of the better classical guitarists in the world. Steve, Joe, and I were all very impressed.
After he finished, there was the requisite trad session. It was fun, not particularly exceptional... until one of the fiddle players shushed everyone and then started singing, sean-nos style. Sean-nos, or "old style," is the "traditional" style of singing in Ireland, very lilty and ballad-like, and it's quite rare to hear these days, especially in a big city like Galway. I turned to Joe and Steve and informed them that they were very lucky indeed to hear it. It was an excellent night overall.
And now, a couple pictures, from Galway at Christmastime.
First, by popular2 demand, a photo of Virginie and I:
Flatmates!
The streets of downtown Galway have all been decorated with lights... it's very beautiful.
(Sorry it's so blurry, night photography is not my strong suit. Actually photography overall is not my strong suit.)
There are also large Christmas trees scattered around, like this one in Eyre Square:
And, finally, taken just today... the winter sun over Galway Bay.
1: I'm actually not taking any trains, for once, unless you count airport trams. Just buses, cars, and airplanes.
2: And by "popular," I mean "maternal."
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
and now for something completely different
I am officially done with my first semester as a postgraduate student. I handed in my last essay yesterday afternoon, after a rather brutal night spent writing it. I have much to talk about in this 'blog... but I'm not going to discuss it today. You can expect more entries this week, breaking from my usual Sunday schedule
Right now, though, instead of Ireland I'm going to talk about America.
I have made up my mind that I am absolutely going to vote for Dennis Kucinich. I've admired him for a long time, and this video made me love him just a little more:
As one of those way-too-many Americans who has no kind of health care whatsoever, I agree that it should be made a priority. This summer, I turned twenty-three and had to go off my parents' insurance, and I certainly can't afford my own right now. I recently informally polled my friends to see how many people in my general age group had health insurance. It was about 60%-- 40% were completely uninsured.
I've heard people joke about elections and say "Who are you voting for?" "A rich person who I have nothing in common with." Dennis Kucinich may get a congressman's salary (I have no idea how much they get paid, but I assume we take care of our Reps, especially as they vote on their own pay) but I feel like he knows where people like me are coming from. Dennis Kucinich has his priorities more in line with what I believe than any candidate I've ever seen.
I know he probably won't win. He's an underdog. Still, I've finally found a candidate who I can actually support. (I voted for Kerry last time. I didn't particularly like him-- I recall the website johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com-- but it was really a lesser-of-two-evils situation.) You may think I'm being young and idealistic and throwing away my vote, but it's really not the case. In fact, I'm cynical enough to feel like no one I vote for will ever make it, or make a difference, so I might as well throw my vote away for something I believe in.
Besides, Kucinich lived in a car when he was 17. Now there is a man I feel can understand my needs.
Right now, though, instead of Ireland I'm going to talk about America.
I have made up my mind that I am absolutely going to vote for Dennis Kucinich. I've admired him for a long time, and this video made me love him just a little more:
As one of those way-too-many Americans who has no kind of health care whatsoever, I agree that it should be made a priority. This summer, I turned twenty-three and had to go off my parents' insurance, and I certainly can't afford my own right now. I recently informally polled my friends to see how many people in my general age group had health insurance. It was about 60%-- 40% were completely uninsured.
I've heard people joke about elections and say "Who are you voting for?" "A rich person who I have nothing in common with." Dennis Kucinich may get a congressman's salary (I have no idea how much they get paid, but I assume we take care of our Reps, especially as they vote on their own pay) but I feel like he knows where people like me are coming from. Dennis Kucinich has his priorities more in line with what I believe than any candidate I've ever seen.
I know he probably won't win. He's an underdog. Still, I've finally found a candidate who I can actually support. (I voted for Kerry last time. I didn't particularly like him-- I recall the website johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com-- but it was really a lesser-of-two-evils situation.) You may think I'm being young and idealistic and throwing away my vote, but it's really not the case. In fact, I'm cynical enough to feel like no one I vote for will ever make it, or make a difference, so I might as well throw my vote away for something I believe in.
Besides, Kucinich lived in a car when he was 17. Now there is a man I feel can understand my needs.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
it's that time of year again...
Yes indeedy, it's that magical time of year that transforms every student into a caffeine-fueled pile of stress that is just this far from a nervous breakdown. I'm speaking, of course, of finals.
I have one essay turned in already, one started, and one that I don't even know where to begin. (It's history, my weakness. I haven't taken a history class since I was 14, and I haven't the slightest idea how to write a history essay.) So I won't be giving you anything insightful this week, I'm sorry. My last essay is due on 10 December, next Monday I believe, so if I don't give you an update next Sunday that's why... but I'll make up for it with something substantial later on. Our class is going to Dublin on Thursday for a "research field trip"-- we'll be going to the Royal Irish Academy, the National Library of Ireland, and the National Archives of Ireland for presentations on how to research their material. I'm excited, if only because I love Dublin. A lot of people here don't care for the city, but in the short two months I lived there, I really fell in love with it.
Anyway, to make up for the lack of content, I give you a panorama of Galway that I made. (Click on the picture for the full size!)
Galway city at dusk, from a hill near my house. You can see the bay and the dome of the Cathedral.
Righty-o. Back to work.
I have one essay turned in already, one started, and one that I don't even know where to begin. (It's history, my weakness. I haven't taken a history class since I was 14, and I haven't the slightest idea how to write a history essay.) So I won't be giving you anything insightful this week, I'm sorry. My last essay is due on 10 December, next Monday I believe, so if I don't give you an update next Sunday that's why... but I'll make up for it with something substantial later on. Our class is going to Dublin on Thursday for a "research field trip"-- we'll be going to the Royal Irish Academy, the National Library of Ireland, and the National Archives of Ireland for presentations on how to research their material. I'm excited, if only because I love Dublin. A lot of people here don't care for the city, but in the short two months I lived there, I really fell in love with it.
Anyway, to make up for the lack of content, I give you a panorama of Galway that I made. (Click on the picture for the full size!)
Galway city at dusk, from a hill near my house. You can see the bay and the dome of the Cathedral.
Righty-o. Back to work.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)