ultra gaelic

St. Patrick’s Day is the national holiday of Ireland, so it’s a day off from work. Imagine the Fourth of July, only with things on a more modest scale. Since about the mid-’90s, the government has kicked up the celebrations (mostly in Dublin but also a bit in Limerick) to bring in the foreign tourists, and they seem to be doing a good job of that. I hear the parade in Dublin used to be a sad affair, but it’s fairly polished at this point. Still, my coworker’s husband mentioned that he overheard some American tourists at the parade say, “This is the lamest parade ever!”

I find it strange that they brought in the North Carolina State University marching band (whose banner read “North Carolina State Band”, which I found misleading) to march in the parade. They performed their fight song and everything, but unlike at a football game in Raleigh, there was nobody in the audience to sing along and cheer. Those kids looked a bit dispirited marching down Dame Street.

In small towns the local parade consist of taxi drivers driving their taxis and farmers driving the tractors down the parade route. We had none of that. However, there was also no final act to mark the end of the parade. The rear was brought up by a bicycle advocacy group (with people riding bikes), a few guards (Irish policeman) on motorcycles, and then an ambulance. The end!

grinds

tutoring

fancy dress party

costume party

football

Gaelic football

soccer

soccer

You don’t get nothin’ for nothin’.

There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

Dublin is known for its Georgian architecture, with whole blocks of nearly identical buildings. To help distinguish one building from another, people paint their front door a different color from their neighbor, usually yielding a tasteful rainbow of red, blue, green, black, and yellow as you walk down a block.

And then people occasionally choose less conventional colors:

It’s hard to tell, but the center door is a vibrant, deep purple. I assume the it wasn’t recently painted purple, but with the current fashion, who knows.

Forget Wild Wicklow tours: the real expert on Ireland is Mary Gibbons of Mary Gibbons Tours. I went on her Newgrange & Hill of Tara tour last week and learned that she can rattle off facts like nobody’s business. Being the first one on the bus, I got a chance to chat with the bus driver and with Mary herself about things in Ireland. Reckless public spending, powerful unions, government bureaucrats, and the encouragement of bicycling (leading to accidents with cars) were among the evils of contemporary Ireland expounded by the locals.
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You know we live in a global world when a French person asks you, “Do you have Starbucks in America?”

I’m learning that people’s phone habits vary by country, not just by language. In Russia, for example, I never learned how to say hello fast enough. You call someone, they answer, and before I have a chance to say something, they’re already saying “hello?” again as if they’re afraid they can’t hear me or I’ve been disconnected already.

In Ireland, on the other hand, what’s different from the US is how you end a phone conversation. Not only do people draw out the word “bye” naturally in everyday conversation, but people here have a bit of competition to see who can get in the last “bye”. What you end up with is both people saying “baaaaaaay-baaaay-bay-baaaaay” until someone gives in and hangs up.

It’s funnier if you hear it, I suppose.

Speaking of colors, it’s getting to be the green time of the year. Green, of course, is associated with spring and St. Patrick’s Day, both of which are approaching quickly.

It’s been getting gradually warmer here, but it’s not as warm as it’s been recently in the US. While places with continental and semi-continental climates (where most of my readers live) are likely to have some more periods of cold before it getting warmer still, around here the daily highs and lows stay practically the same every day, with only minor fluctuation in the seasons. While the grass stays green all winter in this part of the world, there’s still no leaves on the trees.

The past few weeks have been incredibly sunny—even more sunny than I remember when I was here in August—which has been quite welcome. But since yesterday it’s become mostly cloudy like usual, so I suppose all good things must pass.

I’m told that it’s only foreign tourists who wear green on St. Patrick’s Day; I think everyone’s too busy getting drunk to bother. It’s a national holiday here, and the government’s recently expanded the celebrations to include a few days leading up to the day itself. Today I noticed a lot of people wearing green, but that’s because of the big rugby match against Wales today.

I’ve long liked purple clothing, but things in Dublin are getting a bit out of hand with the color. I started noticing purple women’s women’s, but now I’m seeing purple everywhere: shirts, gloves, shoes. It seems to be all the rage this season. Some quick searches online indicate that the fashion began in 2007 or 2008, which makes me wonder it’s Dublin or me that’s a few years behind in noticing.

This past Saturday morning the sun was shining brighter than I’ve ever seen it in Ireland, so I decided to seize the opportunity to take photos before the clouds came back. Add these to some photos I took on other days and it turns out I now have 46 photos of Dublin. Check out the growing collection.

Just down the street from where I work, a new take-away food place has opened. It’s called “Pablo Picanté” (their accent mark, not mine) and is labeled a “Californian Burrito Bar”. Looks like a small version of Chipotle/Qdoda/Pancheros. I was impressed with their viral marketing campaign and had high hopes for it, which were dashed today once I tried a burrito. Forget celery in curry, may I suggest feta in a burrito?