A Phoenix, some art, and the Gaol

After an early Monday morning dedicated to turning a hard copy of my history essay to the department, the week hit a high note on Wednesday. That night, Maggie, Sean, and I joined the Dublin University Rifle Club and participated in their charity fun shoot. Using Olympic-grade air rifles, we competed in a 5 minute heat with 15 bullets to strike several target pigs and shell casings at vary distances in the on-campus but secluded basement shooting range and clubhouse of the society. Due to safety concerns, the fun shoot precluded the .22 caliber rifles, but Sean and I are committed to signing up to shoot them this Tuesday.

Following the club, we joined the regulars for a trip to Mactorcaills to celebrate Russell's birthday. En route, Sean and I helped a stranded motorist push-start his car on Pearse street, as city buses and passing cars threatened to sideswipe the guy holding the wheel. Such a deed was absent in our subsequent trip to Mactorcaills on Friday, following the jazz band at the Pav earlier that night.

On Saturday morning, the regulars set out for Phoenix Park, the largest urban park in Europe. Unfortunately, the blue skies and sunny, warm weather that marked the weekdays before was absent that morning. Nevertheless, we walked the 50 or so minute trip along the North Side of the Liffey to the park's entrance. While there, we visited the tree, under which Brittany regained her hearing, and scaled the massive Duke of Wellington Monument - well more of a miniature Washington Monument. Eating lunch on the granite was not quite the lying-in-the-sun park day that we had imagined, but Brittany and Maggie persuaded us to do a few cartwheels on the grass below.

Atop the Wellington Monument

The cold wind and thick clouds dissuaded us from further exploring the park to find its deer herds, historic fort, and perhaps an illusive set of swings. As Kathryn and Sean departed for Goldsmith, Maggie, Brittany, John, and I continued onward for the infamous Kilmainham Gaol, a mere twenty minute walk from the park. On the way, we crossed the Liffey and passed by a neighborhood of broken dreams - a brand new, empty apartment development along the river. Upon reaching the gaol we purchased our 2 Euro (student) tour tickets, but had over an hour before our scheduled time.

Instead of visiting the Gaol's extensive, 3-floor museum - and presumably similar artifacts as Wicklow - we left for the next-door Irish Museum of Modern Art, as housed in the 17th Century Royal Hospital of Kilmainham. Behind the castle-styled gatehouse to the Museum's grounds was a wide tree-lined avenue to the building's front door. As was expected, closer to the building were various forms of artwork, a interesting juxtaposition given the graveyards that neighbored the gatehouse.

After crossing into a courtyard that mimicked Collin's Baracks, we entered the free Museum. Inside two temporary exhibitions received our full attention. The first was a stirring collection of photographs from the 1970s, which depicted the Troubles in Northern Ireland. The second was a series of paintings by one artist who enjoyed to depict a detailed background covered by an unrelated and different media foreground of intertwining geometric designs. Each canvas was covered in brilliant colors and contrasted well with the white walls of the exhibit. Before seeing the entire permanent exhibit, we were distracted by the response room, where we joined others our age, to draw away the minutes before our tour at the Gaol.

For the tour, we joined at least twenty or so others in a walk through the building's original wing (built in 1796), the death row cell, the movie-famous East Wing, and the work and execution yard. Our guide mixed comedy with history and held our attention for the hour-long visit. Of note were the cells that held the leaders of the 1798 rebellion and the 1916 Easter uprising. In regards to the latter, the swift executions of leaders of that movement is credited with spurring the 1919 successful revolution. In addition, many who opposed the free state during the civil war were interned in the Gaol, including the future Taoiseach and later President Eamon de Valera. For its history and presentation, the facility is well worth a visit.

By the Irish sign for the Gaol

Later that night, and to the chagrin of my friend and die-hard DC United supporter, Craig, the Revolution benefited from some questionable officiating to win 2-1 in their home opener. At the very least, the Revs have demonstrated an ability to score goals, and may rebound from last season's dismal performance.

On Sunday, daylight savings time finally reached Ireland, but not our Nokia phones. So nearly everyone failed to wake up on time for our departure to Dun Laoghaire, a coastal town on the Dart line south of Dublin. Adding fears regarding papers and upset stomachs, only Sean and I managed to keep the trip.

The town is far more developed than it's coastal cousin to the North. After walking along the seawall that enclosed a harbor boasting four yacht clubs, we continued around the town, nearly in vain, to find the Sunday market. Fortunately, we located the bustling stalls and vendors in a park further from the Dart Station than we had expected. Inside we purchased huge Italian sausages and set out for the "Joyce" tower - more likely an ordinary Martello tower than a temporary home of the famous author.

After reaching the closed tower Museum, we explored the Forty Foot "beach" nearby. Despite an abundance of jagged rocks, this section was ensconced by a worn variety of sea walls and beach stations. At its furtherst point, more than several individuals defied the rocky coasts and plunged into the water below. Given the name and their survival, the jumping spot must have some depth.

Christ the King statue in Dun Laoghaire

Full Dublin Album

On the way back from the beach, we stopped at Teddy's Ice Cream shop along the shore. A line extending down the street attested to its price (1.60 euro for a large cone) and quality. We waited in line, and devoured our vanilla cones, complete with a chocolate stick, before taking the Dart back to Dublin.

Next weekend we hope to catch Dublin v. Kilkenny at Croke Park in Hurling and Gaelic Football. During the week I will write my final Politics paper, as we have but two weeks of classes before pre-finals break.

Shaking Hands with a Crusader

This weekend was low key to allow my wallet to recover from the festivities of Saint Patrick's Day. Still, Saturday presented an opportunity to explore a couple more sites in Dublin.

Most of the regulars were trapped in the Ussher Library feverishly writing essays (at least a couple on ranking US Presidents), so Sean and I left without them for Saint Michan's Church and its mummies. Built a few blocks from the north bank of the Liffey, the Church traces its history to a Viking chapel from 1095, with the current structure dating from the 17th century.

Before descending into the crypts below, the tour commences with a visit to the interior (3 euro, student - which Sean and I somehow avoided paying). Four elements of note are held within: a sizable pipe organ is said to have been used by Handel to compose the Messiah as the Cathedrals would not permit him time to practice, the stain glass window was replaced in the 20th century, and is from a city church that was deconsecrated around the same time that Saint Michan's window was destroyed during the revolution; the coverlet on the altar was purchased in a fish market following the theft of the original; and a movable kneeling post was once used for individuals to confess their sins publicly as they were wheeled around the Church.

Following the tour of the interior, we followed another guide, with a flair for compelling storytelling, outside to the bulkheads that seal the crypts. The first crypt was stunted - blocked by a younger wall then those buffeting its sides - but held the Church's famous mummies. Opening coffins is a crime in Ireland (as in all countries?) so the four on display represent individuals who slipped out of broken containers.

Saint Michan's Church, sadly no photography was permitted in the crypts

Full Dublin Album

As our guide explained, the combination of a dry environment, moisture-absorbing limestone walls, and methane gas released from the floor preserved the bodies in remarkable conditions (although with less hair than the bog people). The two female mummies lack any peculiar characteristics beyond their preserved condition. One of the males is missing his feet and his right arm. The feet are likely missing due to a conflict between his height and the size of the coffin, while the hand could represent thievery (but how was he buried below a Church?), an accident, or warfare.

Beyond the other three individuals, the mummy of most interest is the purported 800-year-old Crusader, identified by the cross made by his thighs. More impressive though is his height at 6 foot 6 inches, tall today, and a near giant for his time (his legs are broken to fit in the casket). Although a small metal grate blocks the entrance to the tomb, it serves as a misdirection, as the guide allowed us to move inside to "shake hands" with the Crusade by rubbing his exposed hand for luck.

The second crypt boasted several still-in-use rooms, or at least rooms that may still be used by their respective families. However, the one boasting the Earls of Kenmare is illuminated as the last interned Earl was unpopular among his family - and buried in an unadorned coffin to contrast his roommates' adorned in gold (the tomb was later disowned). Just a few cells away are artifacts and two revolutionaries from the 1798 Rebellion.

Following the Church, we continued along the Liffey until we reached Collins Barracks, now the Art and Decorative History Museum. The name is inadequate for the collection boasted within the massive quadrangle-based structure. Inside are weapons and artifacts from throughout Ireland's military history - including the coat worn by Michael Collins when he was assassinated. In contrast to the Imperial War Museum in London, the Barracks exhibits tell a tale of failed rebellions, the Irish diaspora serving in foreign armies, and the modern contributions to United Nations peacekeeping forces. However, the wealth of artifacts drawn from such foreign involvement, as well as the free admission, made the visit more than worthwhile.

After lunch, Sean and I were joined by John at MacTorcaills to watch the Six Nations Rugby match between Ireland and England as hosted in Dublin at the Aviva Stadium. Having just lost to Wales in a poorly contested match, and knowing that England was destined to win the tournament, Ireland played for pride and to deny their opponents the grand slam (an undefeated victory). In a downpour uncharacteristic of the last few sunny days, Ireland trounced England 24-8 in a style that never permitted the Roses to contend the match.

Following the match (and dinner) I completed the final stage of my PolitiCorps application - a 1 minute video explaining the importance of political engagement and involvement to my peers:

Today was spent exploring the Iveagh Gardens, a public park often overshadowed by the nearby (and larger) Saint Stephen's Green, as well as by the surrounding buildings. The site maintains the sculpted, European-style  found in the Green and Merrion Square, but its more exclusive nature is a welcome contrast to the more tourist-filled others. Unfortunately the sizable stone and statue fountains were not yet active, but a small hedge maze provided a nice diversion - even with two Irish ladies reminding me not to cheat.

Otherwise, I finished my History essay - Understanding Women's Reactions to the 1937 Constitution, galvanized the regulars to take trips to Phoenix Park and Dun Leary next weekend, and will watch the Revolution season opener tonight against Los Angeles due in part to a fortuitous delay in daylight savings in Ireland that will place the game at midnight our time. 

Saint Patrick's Day in Dublin

Either my 8th grade geography teacher Mr. Vasile had it wrong or times have changed over the last several years. The Ireland I was told to expect on Saint Patrick's Day was a country that embraced church attendance rather than American-style binge drinking. Of course that may still be the case, as many of my Irish friends fled Dublin and refrained from wearing green as the city filled with leprechaun-themed tourists.

On Wednesday, my friend Mitch arrived at Trinity from his year studying abroad at Oxford. After a quick tour of campus and the Old Library/Book of Kells we left for Saint Stephen's Green and the free céilí concert. Grafton street was abuzz with green clad tourists covered in the latest cheap merchandise from the street vendors complementing the year-round Carrolls. Among the tourists were the regular street performers, human statues, and musicians to liberate a few more euros from the passerby.

At the concert a crowd of a couple hundred gathered to learn traditional Irish dances from the on-stage performers. After listening to a few songs, we walked about the Green and down to Merrion Square where a carnival had seemed to materialize on the street in front of the park. Complete with a ferris wheel, a fun-house, and various spinning rides. Joining Emma and her friends back at the concert, we were entertained by not a few less than sober groups who managed to complete the more intricate maneuvers with apparent ease.

Parade Route

Full Saint Patrick's Day Album

Heeding our emerging hunger, the several of us left for the Mona Lisa and yet another somewhat secret student menu dinner. With meals ranging from five to seven euro, and with discounted drinks, it is the natural choice for a dinner away from Goldsmith. Of course after dinner we celebrated Saint Patrick's Day Eve at MacTorcaills and were joined throughout the night by the rest of the regulars - and of course their visiting friends for the following day. Befitting our favorite pub, the Cheers theme was the final tune of the night.

At a time perhaps earlier than I would have liked to wake up, we gathered our senses and headed to Frances' next door apartment for crêpes - complete with nutella and sliced bananas - and a couple choice beverages. Unfortunately the strict rules on visitors and an alert guard prevented everyone from joining breakfast. Still, it was then that Frances' roommate Kiernan pointed out that actual Irish avoid wearing green, to the chagrin of group covered in "limited edition" Dublin Saint Patrick's Day T-shirts. I of course wore my vintage, 1980s family reunions "The Cavanaughs" ringer T with a measure of pride.

Following breakfast, we left for the front of campus and the parade route that wound its way from past O'Connell street across the Westmoreland Ave to Grafton and down towards Merrion Square. Of course arriving after the noon start time ensured that the streets were crowded and that most ledges on buildings were already occupied. Some creative spectators brought their own ladders to see over the lucky few who pressed up against the fences lining the route.

Looking for a decent vantage point, we reached the end of Westmoreland Ave and from an opening saw the sea of people lining the route down O'Connell street. Before despairing, I noticed an unoccupied ledge along the building abutting the street corner, and was promptly hoisted by Mitch onto the narrow space. Soon after Kathryn's cousin joined me a long the ledge, and from there we could narrate the strange floats that started towards us just minutes later.

Scenes from of the parade from the ledge

Although I had failed to read the story, I knew that the floats were designed based on the work "Brilliant" by Roddy Doyle. Before the parade ended, Mitch borrowed a copy of the program which added some clarity to the eight chapters. With a nice tie-in to the Ireland's financial woes, the story tells of a dog stealing Dublin's funny bone, and after a series of misadventures, the community banishes it with the word "Brilliant" to return laughter to the city.

After the final chapter, we left the corner for MacTorcaills and lunch. There we met a few of the regulars who entry to Frances' apartment who were denied entry by the security guard earlier that morning. A quick lunch of sausages and chips was followed by a jaunt to the Merrion Square carnival. Once there, we entered the fun house (for the low cost of 3 euro), were entertained by the numerous spinning components, and took it a step further with a ride on the ski slope circular ride that whips two person carts along at a steadily increasing pace. Naturally the box game followed the carnival, with the many visitors eager to learn our favorite Irish game.

The AU Crew after the Carnival

The day ended in the early hours of Friday morning following our third trip to MacTorcaills which included our occupation of the back room of the pub. Of course an in-between trip to Supermac's for some cheaper-than-McDonald's fast food was a must for dinner.

Given the adventures of the nights before, Friday was low key (beyond two lectures), with plans for sightseeing and essay writing this weekend.

Writing and Dublin

The past ten days reflect a mix of writing essays, attending class, and enjoying Dublin's nightlife. After a month filled with travel around Ireland and to London and Lisbon it was a welcome change to stay here over the past two weekends.

The first assignment was a 1,700 word essay on whether Southern attitudes have shifted in regards to the Northern Ireland problem since 1960, and whether there is greater understanding of the problem today. That paper is due tomorrow, but was the project of last weekend. As is the style here, professor's provide lengthy reading lists filled with texts useful for essay assignments. After selecting and reading a relevant group, I wrote my essay to reflect a shift from political rhetoric without substance, which called upon Britain to unilaterally end partition without concern for the opinions of the Northern Irish, to active involvement and compromise, as reflected in a series of treaties that culminated in the Good Friday (Belfast) Agreement. While aspirations for a united Ireland remain unchanged, greater understanding is demonstrated in fluctuating public opinion to particular requirements for unification and a preference for peace over unity.

Last weekend was not just limited to writing essays. We regrouped after our separate 'Reading' Week trips at the Pav on Friday, and continued celebrating at Citi Bar, with its beverage specials, into the morning. For reasons unknown, the club promoted many 90s American songs and afforded crowded and limited bar access by the dance floor. On occasion, that neon-light-illuminated floor would release smoke into the close quarters marked by minimal dancing and more group swaying.

In contrast that the uninspired Citi Bar, I explored the nearby park of Merrion Square on Monday. Filled with statues, artwork, and expert landscaping the park is everything one would expect in European city. Rare sunshine and warm weather were a welcome addition to the walk.

John, Brittany, and I at MacTorcaills (later in post)

Tuesday marked a return to class after break, and my second PolitiCorps interview. Following some technical issues, the Skype interview progressed smoothly, with a 1-minute YouTube video representing the remaining piece of the application process. However, following Skype, I contacted my distant cousins who live on a farm in rural Umbria, Italy. With a bit of luck, Ryan Air offered reduced prices around Europe (despite rising oil prices), and so I will be headed to Italy for a week during pre-Finals break from 10 April to the Saturday before my parents arrive in Dublin.

For Ash Wednesday I attended Mass at the Saint Mary's Pro Cathedral off of O'Connell Street. The high attendance marked a sharp contrast to my earlier visit to the Church of Ireland's Christ Church Cathedral. However that older building shared more characteristics with a traditional cathedral, as opposed to the Catholic Saint Mary's which resembled the interior of a Roman Temple.

Following the shortened 5:30pm Mass, I had enough time to draft my second short essay for history (1,000-1,500 words). Continuing with the theme from my first short essay, I examined women's reaction to the 1937 Constitution, which contains many provisions intolerable to our modern sensibilities but which received little attention from contemporary women. The first paper used primary sources provided for our tutorials, but for the second, I searched the archives of the Irish Independent and Irish Press for editorials written by women prior to the successful referendum.

After drafting that essay, I left with Brittany and Kathryn for Lillie's Bordello and the birthday party for one of our good Irish friend Louise. The club is hidden above Porterhouse with little indication of its presence. Our destination was the secluded 'Library' complete with a wall of old book, chandeliers, comfortable leather couches and chairs, a piano, bar, and red velvet walls. Our Irish friend Mike suggested that this venue catered to after parties for bands visiting in the 80's and was probably the scene of much cocaine usage. No illicit substances were present for our visit, and it proved a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere for great conversation and a couple choice drinks.

Brittany and I in the 'Library,' the book I randomly picked was 'A Covenant with Death'

Little happened on Thursday and Friday beyond additional research for my larger History paper (2,000 words). Using the primary sources from my earlier research, I tackled the topic of: understanding women's reactions to the 1937 Constitution. But before fingers to keyboard, I wandered around O'Connell Street on Saturday in hopes of finding a tux for the Trinity Ball. My efforts proved fruitful by the open-air market with a slightly large, but fine second-hand Mark & Spencer's tux coat for 20 euro. Adding a pair of generic black pants and perhaps a bow tie from Penneys will complete the outfit for less than 40 euro.

After completing my draft with minutes to spare, I joined the others outside of Goldsmith to purchase our chosen drink of 'Buckfast' a tonic wine that tastes of grape molasses originally produced by Benedictine Monks in the 1890s as a medicine. Perhaps it will cure my cold.

Later we headed to our favorite destination, MacTorcaills and ran into Russell and an Irishman disappointed in the poor performance of Ireland in their loss to Wales in 6-Nations Rugby. Following some great conversation, we went to the authentic Temple Bar to see Sean's visiting friend's famous fiddle-playing friend. As part of a three-person band, she entertained with an expert performance of traditional Irish music and contemporary American tunes.

Today was a day to relax from essay-writing. I explored Saint Stephen's Green, a larger park than Merrion Square that boasts a pond filled with ducks, swans, seagulls, and yes even pigeons. Returning to Goldsmith, I released the survey monkey links for the meaningless DC Delta March Madness voting - a bracket I developed on Thursday (to avoid writing essay) using an intricate seeding process - to determine which brother will win the prize to not exceed 500 Coke Reward points.

'DC Delta Madness' bracket

This Thursday is Saint Patrick's Day, and with no classes and my friend Mitch visiting from AU, it promises to be a memorable event.

Castles and Cathedrals of Lisbon

TUESDAY

When I woke up around 10am, I received the news that João had passed away during the night. His passage marked the second from cancer in as many weeks, and the third relative in little more than as many months. He joins my Tio Americo and my Grandmother in too long a list for too short a time.

Nevertheless, my exploration of Lisbon continued unabated. Jorge drove me past the Lisbon Aqueduct that withstood the Earthquake and to the neighborhood of Belem that sits along the shore and is near his apartment. After eating at the famous Pastéis de Belém, he left me in the bustling museum district to explore until dinner later at his place. 

My first stop was the National Coach Museum. Instead of the 5 euro price, I negotiated with the attendant to pay the (younger) student price of 2 euro. However, after seeing the collection, I would pay the former for the opportunity to examine the coaches, berlins, carriages, and other assorted vehicles and artifacts in the museum. Each vehicle matched the opulence of the Palace of Pena, in particular those associated with a state visit to Pope Clement XI, with each decorated with numerous sculptures representing Portuguese conquest and might. 

Imperial Coach Museum

From the museum, I walked along the Tagus towards the Tower of Belem. Along the way I passed the pink Palace that now serves as the official residence of the President of Portugal as well as the Padrão dos Descobrimentos, which celebrates the achievements of the navigators with a tower that evokes a ship jutting into the river and adorned by sculptures looking towards the water.

Before paying the 5 euros to visit the UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the '7 Wonders of Portugal' that is the Tower of Belem, I explored the Monumento Combatentes Ultramar that evokes the Vietnam War Memorial with its wall of names but differs in a reflecting pool and pyramidal monument centered with an eternal flame. From there, I returned to the tower and explored its many levels including a couple gun batteries and the floors of the main tower. The view from the top may not be worth the entrance fee, but the beautiful spring-like weather was enough to permit me to stay there for some time.

Following the Tower, I visited the free Berardo Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art. Inside were two temporary exhibits, one 'Mappa Mundi' which revealed various stages of deconstruction and recreation of the world and cities. An example is a map of Paris formed from pictures at subway stations, with holes revealing popular stops that tourists had pointed at one too many times. In addition, there was a exhibit on cartoons with degrees of comedy and drama played out in color and black and white. Even though many were in Portuguese, they were far more decipherable than the permanent exhibit, which included a floating rock in a dark room.

The United States?

With night setting in after the Art Museum, I was unable to visit the renowned Monastery, Archaeology Museum, and Mariner Museum. Still, I was satisfied with the sights I chose to explore, and was soon off to Jorge's apartment to enjoy a delicious seafood pasta dinner with him and his girlfriend Cristina. During dinner, I enjoyed a education in 70's and 80's American music, including a documentary on the Ohio band DEVO.

WEDNESDAY

Before catching my 6:55pm flight back to Dublin, I made a pilgrimage to the Estadio da Luz, the home of Sporting Lisboa Benfica. Their current stadium, the new 'Cathedral,' was built in 2003 and is quick walk from the subway (1.80 euro round trip). There, I took a picture with the statue of Eusebio, the most famous and successful Portuguese footballer of all time, and who finished his career playing for the NASL in the States. A replica of the statue is displayed outside of Gillette Stadium in Massachusetts, so I made sure to confirm that constant refrain of mine when going with friends to Revolution games.

Had I been leaving Lisbon later, I would have purchased a ticket from the Sporting v. Benfica match later that night - both division 1 teams in the city. Instead, I opted for a couple quick pictures of the field, a brief tour of the museum, with a temporary Eusebio exhibit; and a Benfica scarf from the 'megastore.' Inside of which, I was surprised to find a small aisle dedicated to NBA jerseys.

Standing with Eusebio

Full Lisbon Album

Leaving the stadium, I took the subway to the historic downtown to visit the S. Jorge Castle that overlooks the waterfront and city. We had visited the site 10.5 years prior, but it was worthwhile to pay the 3.5 euro (student price) to tour the updated area with a modern museum and ongoing archaeological dig. Moreover, the opportunity to see Lisbon from yet another high point is not to be missed, as the castle's walls and towers provide ample vistas of the area. 

Following a four course lunch (at 8.50 euro), complete with flan for desert, I needed to run (at several points) back to Jorge's parent's house so that I would be there by 5pm when he would take me to the airport. The run was reminiscent of a couple weeks ago in London, and as with that one, I made it back with a few minutes to spare.

Landing in Dublin, with its much colder weather, I am determined to avoid an absence from Portugal like the one that preceded this trip.

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