St. Patrick's Day

First of all, I apologize to anyone (the few and far between, that is) who may have been expecting a blog post from me in the past month and hasn't received one. I have been busy, learning so much about this country and myself and immersing myself in all kinds of activities and sometimes there is just so much going on that it is hard to keep up with this blog. Also, and more to the point, I am lazy and just pretty undisciplined with this kind of thing. So, please accept my sincerest of apologies.

Tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day. And I'm in Ireland. Everyone here has been gearing up for this day for a while now. Us American students wondering what to expect mostly and prepping for what is bound to be a crazy day. The city has been celebrating this holiday for the past four or five days already, crowding the streets of city centre and UCC's campus with all kinds of booths--from food, to jewlery, pottery, clothing, art, books, etctera. There have also been all kinds of people dressed up in large strange costumes, ranging from leprechauns to chickens with guns to mermaids on stilts. Live music has been filling the streets... and not just Irish traditional music, but great folk and jazz. I was surprised the other day as I was walking through looking at real Connemara marble and beaded pearl necklaces from Kinsale, to hear Blue Rondo a la Turk coming from the stage set up at the end of Grand Parade St. It was really great seeing all this the other day. But bein there didn't actually make me feel immersed in the St. Patrick's Day festivities at all (though I am sure I will have a different reaction tomorrow.) Instead, all the booths and live music and suprisingly warm weather brought me back to Alexandria. I thought about Titan Expos and Waterfront Festivals and so badly I wanted to be home. And then I realized that a good amount of the time I have spent at home has been spent wishing I was here and that finally here I am.

St. Patty's day for a long while now has just seemed to me an excuse to wear green and drink yourself silly. I was thinking about this just a few minutes ago and then I remembered something. When I was eight or so years old, St. Patrick's Day was my favorite holiday. I would always tell everyone I was Irish, dress up in this little plaid Irishy skirt outfit and go to school, wishing everyone a happy St. Patty's Day. My mom and dad always insisted there were leprechauns around and my eyes would always skit nervously around the room looking for that little green man and his pot of gold. Our Chieftains music would blast, the strident pipes and softly plucked harps echoing through our kitchen as my mom cooked corned beef and cabbage. We were truly Irish, even for just one day.

And tomorrow, it's here. My favorite holiday. And I'm in Ireland. Before I thought about this memory, all I was excited for was the parade in Cork city tomorrow afternoon and then going out tomorrow night. But now, now it's going to be completely different. I feel like I have remembered something essential to my entire experience of being abroad and actually, to my entire life.

We learned in my Irish literature class a few weeks ago about the poet, Thomas Davis, who was actually British but moved to Ireland. Because he felt akin to the Irish culture and people, he considered himself to be Irish, and ended up writing some of the most nationalist poems you will ever read. One of them turned into the rebel ballad you may know, "A Nation Once Again." But anyway, our professor was telling us how Davis believed that as long as you believed you were Irish, then you were. I'm not sure if that would apply to all cultures, or just to Ireland, or if Davis was just a crackpot Brit who felt guilty for his country's actions, but regardless, I think that I agree with this sentiment. I am Irish in heritage but I wasn't born here, my parents have never been here, and before I got here I knew very little about Ireland as a country outside of its cultural aspects (its music, literature, etc) and how beautiful and green it was. But now that I am here, I know more than I've ever known anything, that this is the land where my heart belongs. I know I'll be going home in two months or so, but I honestly believe that I will leave a huge chunk of my heart in these hills, in these city streets, and in the strings and pipes and voices in these songs of my forefathers.

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, all. Have some good craic and God bless Ireland forever.