A Few Last Thoughts...

We’ve been back in the States for over a year now, and although I can’t say as we experienced any particular culture shock upon our return, after this much time it is easy to see what the biggest differences are between Irish culture and that of the U.S.

When people ask me what I miss the most about Ireland my first answer is always “The bread”. The Irish are not known for their gourmet cuisine, but boy do they know how to bake a loaf of bread. Every morning a huge truck would pull up in front of the corner grocery store to unload warm loaves of fresh-baked, sliced bread wrapped in paper packages. Bread we could eat slice by slice with nothing on it, just to feel the warm softness in our mouths. There is nothing here that can compare to that fresh Irish bread.

The second thing I miss is the walking. In Ireland—in most of the U.K. actually—walking is just what you do. Walk to the store, to the train, to the bus, to work. People have cars, certainly, but they don’t use them for a quick trip to buy groceries. I miss the idea that walking isn’t a fitness exercise, it’s just what we as humans do. “Have legs, will walk.” Nowadays I get up early every morning to go for my daily constitutional in the still, damp morning air. I relish the time alone to think quiet, uninterrupted thoughts, or to listen to my NPR podcasts. But this was not something I would have had to do in Ireland, because you get your walking in as a matter of course.

I suppose this leads me into the public transportation. Especially in these days of exorbitantly high gas prices, I really, really miss good public transportation. Walking to our small town center, grabbing a bite of lunch at the pub, then taking the DART (the train) into Dublin to do some shopping, see a movie, or visit the castle or St. Patrick’s Cathedral was a pretty perfect way to spend a Saturday. And it’s not just the lack of expense, or the convenience of public transportation that I miss, but there’s a certain feeling of accomplishment, of independence, that comes from taking the bus or train. I would get a simple sense of satisfaction from studying the route map and timetable and planning out my journey. I loved sitting in the train-cars with the other riders, reading a book, eavesdropping on conversations in that lovely Irish lilt, watching the brilliant green fields and somber grey churches roll by. Then stepping off the train with the rest of the crowd, holding the door for each other, commenting on the weather, smiling to let the woman with the buggy go first out the door. It made me feel I was part of something cosmopolitan, something more sophisticated than myself alone.

The last thing I’ll mention is the eye contact. Here in California we avoid eye contact, it seems, and I’m not sure why. Maybe we’re too busy, maybe we’re afraid, maybe we’re just snobs—who knows. I was alone a lot in Ireland, we weren’t there long enough for me to make a whole lot of friends, but I never felt that I lived in a vacuum. It was common courtesy when walking down the street to exchange glances and nods. If men still wore hats I feel certain they would have tipped them to the ladies. Cab drivers conversed with their riders, knowledgably and eloquently I might add.

Looking back over what I’ve written, I guess I’d have to say that what this all leads to, what I miss the most about living in Ireland, is the recognition of our connection with the community, with the rest of the world. You can’t bite into warm, fresh bread without knowing on some level that it was baked that very morning by a brave early riser. You can’t walk down the street without meeting plenty of other pedestrians and acknowledging them. You can’t ride the bus without wondering about the lives of those cheerful other riders. You recognize that you share space with these other individuals, and you’re (for the most part) happy that you do.

All that being said, I’d like to borrow a line from Robert Frost and say “let no fate willfully misunderstand me… and snatch me away…” I’m happy to be back in the U.S. with my family and my friends. I like my car, I like our schools, I love my house. When I was in Ireland I missed the mountains of California, the sharp smell of the evergreen trees, the Pacific ocean. I missed them terribly. As wonderful an experience as it was to live in another country, I found that I am a California girl at heart, and that will never change. But I wouldn’t mind bringing one or two small parts of Ireland back here to the U.S. So I’ll continue my campaign to bring eye contact back into vogue, and please send me your recipes for fresh-baked bread.

Go mbeannaí Dia duit (May God bless you)

Jenni

A Word About the Weather

Well first of all, it's SNOWING! A little bit every day for the past 4 days. It melts almost immediately, but that doesn't stop Delaney from enjoying it to the fullest. She says she loves it when it sticks to her hair, and she'll never stop trying to catch it on her tongue. Even when she's wet and cold she won't come inside. I have to bribe her in with hot chocolate by the fire. As for myself... born and raised near coastal California means that snowfall is not part of my seasonal memories. I have been in the snow before on winter vacations--skiing, sledding, snowball fights, all that good stuff. But I don't remember ever seeing it come down from the sky. I had no idea it was so... pretty.

Aside from the daily flurries of this pretty white stuff my weather report is to tell you that it...is...cold! Even when the sun is out the biting wind finds it's way between scarf and coat. Currently it is 29 degrees (0 degrees Celsius if you're here in Ireland). For some of you out there that's not big deal, but let me remind you again I'm from coastal California.

It's true what they say about an Irish day containing all 4 seasons. Today alone we've had a calm, beautiful and sunny early morning (cold, but sunny), a grey and windy noontime, and now it's snowing. All that's missing is the rain. We haven't had much rain in the past few days because it's just been too cold. The little pond in our backyard has been frozen all week.

I am happy to report that the days are lengthening noticeably now. Whereas in December we only had about 6 hours of daylight, we now have about 11. And the locals tell me that if we were to stay for the summer we would see days where the sun doesn't go down until 10:30 or 11pm! I'm not sure how I would like that. Although Delaney's sleep patterns are pretty set (9pm-8am every night) Gwenna's seem to follow the sun. During those winter months Gwenna wouldn't wake up until around 9am. Now, of course, she's up with the sun at 7:30am. If we were staying to see the sun come up at 4am on summer mornings we would have to invest in some lead drapes!

To be honest, I am enjoying experiencing a true winter. The short, dark days, barren trees, biting cold and winter snow are a somewhat new experience for me. It helps me better understand some of the traditions and holidays I've read about, and makes me appreciate Celtic myths and fairy tales in a new light. No wonder the ancient Celts held hospitality in such high regard, when a traveler left out in the elements could die of exposure so easily. And I'm not surprised that Bards and Storytellers were in such demand, when nights are very long, and days are too cold to do much outside. Seeing the seasons as they are here gives more depth to some of our family traditions, and has made me re-think how we may celebrate certain holidays in the future.

And now, if you'll excuse me, the snow has stopped falling for a while, and the kids are at the door, clamoring to come in for a fire and coco.

A Life of Surprises

Life is constantly taking us by surprise. In January 2005 I wrote a goal in my journal; to find a way for our family to do more traveling. I had no idea it would manifest in the form of this wonderful opportunity to live in a European country. (I should mention here that since Rob was the one who procured the job in Ireland, my goal probably had nothing to do with our recent travel except possibly as encouragement.) Our experiences here have been filled with surprises, both good and bad. And now life has surprised us again. Rob's old company in California, WayForward, has been in constant communication with him for the past few months, and lately asked him to come back, making him an offer he couldn't refuse.

Rob is excited to be going back. It was very difficult for him to leave WayForward in the first place, he's been there for 13 years and the company is like family for him. And I am excited to be going back, I have missed my family, friends, and work in California very much. Still, we have mixed feelings. We have not been able to do nearly the amount of travel we were hoping to, and we were expecting to stay for at least a year, to experience the full range darkness and beauty that the Irish wheel of the year has to offer. From what people tell us, by leaving before spring we will be missing out on the best of the Irish seasons. But you have to take opportunities as they are presented, and so once again we are packing our suitcases and shipping our boxes and preparing to leave a phase of our lives behind.

March 7th is to be Rob's last day at the company here in Ireland. We'll be taking the 2 weeks following that to travel and see more of Europe before we return to the U.S. We plan to be back in Thousand Oaks by the 18th or 19th of March. Once back, we'll be renting an apartment in the short term until our home is ready for us to move back in. I don't imagine we'll slip instantly back into all the old aspects of our lives, but I anticipate the transition will for the most part be a smooth one. And we certainly look forward to seeing all of our friends and family again.

There is a tree down the street from our house that overnight seemed to explode from bare twigs into tiny pink blossoms. Snowdrops, the first bulbs of spring, are starting to poke up from the ground, and every once in a while we'll see a huge flock of birds flying overhead in a migration pattern. Maybe we won't miss the whole of spring after all.

Imbolc or St. Brigid's Day

The River Boyne, Irish President Mary McAleese, the pertetual Brigid's flame in the Kildare town square, Jenni, Jane, the kids and I at Brigid's sacred well.
(The pictures of President Mary McAleese and the Kildare town square are courtesy of http://kildare.ie/greyabbey/archives/latest_news/)

My dear, dear friends Jenni K. and Jane W. have come for a visit! Visitors always inspire you to see more of your own backyard, and seeing it through their eyes makes Ireland seem magical and mythical all over again. We kept most of our exploratory trips close enough to home to be able to do in a day. Rob was sadly unable to get any time off work, and the kids, little travelers that they are, still are kids, with naptimes and mealtimes, and short attention spans. We planned our trips accordingly. Luckily for us, Jane and Jenni are both very understanding aunties.

Our first trip was to Newgrange, which I don't think I could ever see too much of (see earlier blog entry from October 2005). Aside from the amazing passage tomb itself, the river Boyne and surrounding countryside are quite a sight to see. The Boyne valley is the site of the historic Battle of the Boyne, and is mentioned in many, many Celtic myths and fairy tales as well. There's a spot on the grounds of the tourist center where you are crossing a bridge over the river, and as you look over the landscape you can see the Boyne making its meandering way through the tall grass of the valley. There are sheep nestled in a curve of the river, trees dot the valley here and there, and on the crest of one far off hill you can see Knowth, another less well-known passage tomb similar to Newgrange. Truly you feel as if you have gone back in time. Or rather, that time has no real meaning in this part of the world.

As I was getting much more comfortable driving on these narrow Irish roads, we decided to take a trip a little further afield to the county and town of Kildare on February 1st, for the ceremony celebrating the lighting of the eternal Brigid's flame in the town square. A little background.... Brigid is a Celtic Goddess and Saint, rather, the Celtic Goddess and Saint. She was the Goddess of poetry, fire, and metalworking artistry. Also a great Goddess of healing. As Christianity spread throughout the Celtic lands, many of the pagan beliefs and traditions were incorporated, and this is probably what happened with Brigid, although there is enough evidence to also support the actual existence of a woman who established the church in Kildare and held a unique position of authority in the church. Saint Brigid also established centers of healing and education, and was known as a woman of great strength and compassion. As Brigid was the Saint (or Goddess) of fire, a perpetual flame was kept alight by Brigid and her nuns, possibly up to the 16th century. Recently, the order of Brigidine sisters has been re-established, and the current sisters have revived the tradition of keeping vigil over a perpetual flame dedicated to Brigid, be she saint or goddess.

February 1st is the festival of Imbolc, or St. Brigid's day, a celebration of the return of the light and warmth in the onset of spring. This year Jane, Jenni, the kids and I were able to join in the celebration in the Kildare town square. A lovely lamppost style torch had been erected in the square, along with a temporary stage. The square, as well as shop windows, homes and the church itself, were beautifully decorated with flags, snowdrops, and other spring bulbs, and Brigid's crosses of all sizes (a Brigid's cross is an equal armed cross traditionally woven out of reeds, http://www.iol.ie/~scphadr/makecross.html). People from all over Ireland and the world filled the town, as speeches were given by town VIPs, performances were given by well-known Celtic vocalists, a parade of flags and a dance was performed by local schoolchildren. Then came the surprise of the day, the President of Ireland, Mary McAleese, arrived to light the flame herself! She gave a very moving speech about Brigid, and reaching out to others in peace and friendship, before lighting the eternal flame.

It was such a satisfying and exciting day that we returned two days later to further explore the town, visit with the Brigidine sisters and light candles of our own from Brigid's flame, and make the ancient pilgrimage to Brigid's sacred well. We also had time to stop by the Kildare Japanese Gardens, only to find that it was closed for the week. However, Jenni, perpetual optimist that she is, went to the door and spoke with one of the employees, who was only too happy to open the gates for us when she found out we were from California, and were not likely to be able to make the trip again in the foreseeable future. The gardens themselves were absolutely beautiful, but the highlight was a very clever "path to wisdom" that wound through the grounds, taking the traveler from birth through adolescence, partnerhood, old-age and death.

Aside from all the wonderful sight-seeing we've been doing together, Jenni and Jane have brightened our lives with a little bit of home. It's nice to sit with my dear friends again and talk the night away, with a fire in the fireplace, wineglasses in our hands, and the kids playing all around.

Toothless

Delaney lost 2 teeth this last week! Her front two bottom teeth, to be precise. I can't believe she's old enough to lose teeth. I can't believe how much of a big girl this new toothless smile makes her look! As for her own feelings on the subject, she is exceedingly proud. Anyone who knows Delaney knows that she has never been the most outgoing of children, but after losing her teeth, she stops anyone on the street or in the market who's willing to listen and shows them her toothless gap, tells them about the tooth fairy, and demonstrates any other wiggly teeth she imagines on that given day.

Speaking of the tooth fairy, we learned something very interesting about our American toothfairy's Irish counterpart. Apparently Ireland has not one toothfairy, but a whole gaggle of fairies. When Delaney shows the natives her empty sockets they inevitably ask her (in their friendly Irish lilt), "Did the fairies come?" We had assumed, when she woke up the morning after the big loss and found her tooth replaced by 2 Euro and a pack of juicyfruit that it had been the good ol' toothfairy. But the truth may be that it was the Irish fairies who came and made the exchange.

Delaney isn't the only Buchanan experiencing dental changes. Gwenna is getting in her 1 year molars, which makes for some sleepless nights for mom. But other than that I have to say that Gwenna is a cheerful and delightful toddler. She is going through such a developmental surge I barely recognize her from one day to the next. She's really working on her verbal skills right now. When you tell her something, she latches on to the main subject of your sentence and tries to say it herself. "Apple", "bowl", "doggie", "book". You name it, she'll name it too! She's moving forward in leaps and bounds physically too. Actually, she's literally moving forward in leaps and bounds! She loves to run, jump on the bed, dance around to music, and do anything else her big sister is doing.

One thing that I am very grateful for is that our girls get along so well. Delaney loves to play with Gwenna (most of the time), and actually feels very proprietary about her much of the time ("this is my sister"). Gwenna of course idolizes Delaney, and follows her everywhere. One of their favorite games to play these days is that they're dogs. They both crawl around the house on hands and knees, barking and yipping until their "owners" are tempted to put them outside! They're names are Howly and Growly... And they are aptly named!

We spend much of our time playing outside in the slowly lengthening daylight. Delaney got a pair of roller skates for Christmas, and she practices every day. She is getting quite good on them, speeding along the street with all the other neighborhood girls, and rolling down steep driveways like a daredevil. She also likes to build fairy houses in our front garden. She's made some very creative domiciles out of natural elements like sticks and stones, flowers and leaves. Gwenna of course likes to demolish the fairy houses, and Delaney has been admirably patient with her rebuilding. As for Gwenna, she adores the outdoors. At least twice a day she toddles into the front hall and brings me her hat and shoes to put on. Her favorite place to go is a little grove of trees down the street from us. There's a crooked tree in the grove whose trunk she likes to ride like a hobbyhorse. "Gee-up!"

Delaney has made many friends in the neighborhood, but she still talks about her friends in California most often. She hopes to celebrate her birthday with her friend Nicolas, whose birthday is 3 days before her own. She can't wait to meet her friend Mia's new baby sister. She wants to play ponies and cars with her friends Lexi and Gus, go swimming with Richard and Brianna, go to the beach with Giancarlo, have tea with Camille, and numerous other friends and activities I've forgotten to mention. She even reminisces wistfully about being back in Miss Brenda's class at Montessori.

Gwenna, as you may imagine, is happy as a clam wherever she is. As long as she's got her mom, dad, and especially her big sister, she's content. Although she does have a decided partiality for the stairs in our house here, and will miss those at least, when we go back.

As for mom and dad, we also miss our family and friends in the States. As much as we are enjoying our experiences here, our underlying feelings of homesickness has never completely dissipated. Rob has found many friendly folk among his co-workers, but the job itself has yet to challenge and excite him as his job back home did. I myself love drinking in the Irish literature and landscape, but still feel like a stranger in this strange and beautiful land. As many wonderful growth opportunities as this adventure has brought our way, our hearts still remain firmly rooted in the soil of our California homeland.

Not All Shamrocks And Rainbows

(Evidence of modernization: Dublin skyline, trash in our neighborhood. And yet there's beauty: A swan in our local estuary.)

Most people when they think Ireland they imagine acres of green, dotted with quaint villages in which old men in tweed ride around on bicycles and spend hours gossiping at the local pub. Or maybe you imagine an ancient landscape shrouded in fog, and mysterious rings of stones where you can almost sense the lingering presence of the fairies. Ireland is a little of both of these things, the the locals certainly encourage the tourists to continue in these fantasies, but there is an underside to this small, turbulent island as well.

I don't mean to sound dramatic. This "underside" is no worse than the usual dark parts that inhabit any city or country. And truly, the dark parts of Ireland are much lighter than those of other countries. But so far in this record of our adventures I've mostly described our vacations and weekends, I'd like to take this opportunity to round out the picture.

I've mentioned before that Ireland is a country with "new wealth". It was only in the past decade or so that their economy has skyrocketed, and the inhabitants are still getting used to all that this new money brings. The landscape is dotted with evidence of construction. Skeletons of high-rise buildings reach into the sky, tall cranes block the roads, thick green forests end abruptly in acres of freshly-cut stumps and swathes of brilliant green are scarred with newly laid pipes or wires.

There is evidence of modernization on a more intimate level as well. The Irish are experiencing a recent influx of disposable goods and resources. And they dispose of it everywhere! Our local coastline during low tide is a junkyard of old tires, discarded home appliances, and even building materials. There is a lovely grove of trees near our house that the kids love to play in... Or at least it would be lovely if it wasn't so littered with trash contstantly. I've taken to bringing a plastic bag along every time we go outside to walk or play, as my curious 1 year old loves to pick up anything she sees lying on the ground. I often have to rush to pick up a dirty piece of broken glass, or a rusty beer can before she tries to put it in her mouth. And we always come back with our trash bag filled to the brim. I hope that this is a seasonal phenomenon. Strong winter winds blowing trash out of resident's waste bins, rather than neighborhood apathy or carelessness.

I think it takes a while for people to get used to a new influx of materials, resources, and new immigrants. Ireland has always been known as an exceptionally friendly country, but the people have recently become more reserved and careful, according to a rare conversation I had with a native recently. He informed me that "in his day" newcomers to a neighborhood would be visited right away, invited to tea, made to feel welcome. "These days people in certain areas put on airs, they won't invite you to join their club, you have to work for it. Everybody's too busy to be welcoming." This in itself isn't so strange to a native Californian, where this describes most people and neighborhoods. But we've had time in California to make up for it by making our clubs and social groups highly visible and responsive. Sadly, this is not the case in the Dublin area.

This "land of a thousand welcomes" has put conditions on its welcome in other ways as well. Ireland is still a very Catholic country politically. Divorce was just recently legalized (within the past 10 or 15 years), and abortion is absolutely illegal. Just about all of the charities you can contribute to are Catholic-run, and the school system is run by the Catholic majority as well. Upon our research into education options for Delaney we found that of the three schools in our area, two required a Catholic baptismal certificate to enroll. The third school does not require a baptismal certificate, but it is still religiously funded (by Protestants, this time) and has a program of religious education. We had already been homeschooling, and finding it easier to take the time to travel this way, so we were not as disappointed as we might have been.

Everybody has preconceptions about places they've never been. We were no different when preparing for our move here to the Emerald Isle. Oh, we did as much research into the weather, the economy, the land, and the culture as we could, but there are some things that can't be learned or discovered until you live in a place. There are good things and bad things about living in Ireland, and for the most part the good outweigh the bad. But to give a truly honest picture of our experience here, the dark should be acknowledged along with the light.

Raise your pint to 2006!!

New Year's eve in Dublin is an Event! With a capital E. And my mom was generous enough to offer to watch our two little Irish fairies so that Rob and I could go party it up with my brothers in the city. Thank you Mom!

The story starts a few days earlier though, when my mom, Mark and I were exploring Dublin on our own one day. As the sun went down (as it does early here in this northerly country--the sun starts setting somewhere around 4pm in the winter) and the shops closed up we went looking for a place to enjoy a warm meal, a cold pint, and some good music. Being the literature geek that I am, I dragged Mom and Mark through Grafton Street, the shopping district of Dublin, following signs I saw pointing the way to a "Literary Pub Crawl". Eventually we found the end of the road, a respectable looking pub called Duke's. Although the sign outside informed us that the crawl was only offered on Thursdays, and this was Wednesday, luck was with us, because an extra crawl was scheduled for this very evening, and was about to begin in 5 minutes. We promptly sat down, ordered some Irish coffees, and prepared to crawl the same pubs of Dublin as the literary greats who had gone before us.

The pub crawl was, as the Irish say, "grand!" Two actors, with an impressive knowledge of Irish authors and literature, acted as our tour guides. They acted out scenes from Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett, performed dramatic readings of writings by James Joyce, George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, and basically filled our minds with fun and useless literary trivia. But most importantly, they took us drinking! We visited a number of pubs that were homes away from home for many of Ireland's most famous writers. (Or so our guides assured us.) And more to the point, this provided us with a very limited knowledge of the Dublin pub scene to bring with us to our New Year revelry.

We decided to start out New Year's eve at Duke's, the same pub at which the literary crawl began. After a pint we decided that it was a bit too quiet to stay, and we went off in search of more festive places, and some food to soak up all the liquor we planned to drink as the night wore on. Now, here is something you may not know about Irish pubs, they only serve food until a certain hour, and that hour is generally earlier than many tourists and partiers are used to eating. We were no exception. By the time we went out in search of food it was 9pm, all the pubs had stopped serving food, and most of the regular restaurants were closed due to the holiday. Just as we were deciding we would have to stop at Burger King, we came upon (what I hope is) Dublin's only "Authentic American Cafe". And that is how we ended up eating our last meal of 2005 in a loud, gaudy, absolutely brilliant "American" cafe in Dublin.

After our meal we finally decided to make our way over to Temple Bar, an area of old Dublin that is considered the "cultural quarter" of the city. For New Year's eve it was exactly the place to be. People from all over the world were playing music and dancing in the streets! We saw Scotsmen in kilts, Hare Krishnas with their tambourines, talked with people from Canada, Australia, and even fellow Americans. When it came time to count down the seconds to 2006 the place erupted around us as people kissed and hugged and raised their pints to toast the new year.

We hope you brought in 2006 with friends and family as well. We wish all of our loved ones the happiest of new years!

With lots of love from Ireland,
Jenni, Rob, Delaney and Gwenna

Celtic Christmas

(A stone dwelling behind Newgrange, Rob in front of Kilkenny castle, Kevin and Mark in back of it.)

This Christmas brought a mixture of old traditions, and new experiences, of seeing new things and longing for the old. But no matter which of those mixed emotions were running through my heart, my family was here with me, which made all the difference in the world!

My mom and brothers had been planning to come to Ireland for Christmas almost since we first decided to make the move. Flights were arranged, passports applied for, gifts purchased. Then suddenly, the US postal service threw a wrench in the works. . . Kevin's passport was lost in the mail.

Meanwhile, here in Ireland, Rob and I were planning for the holidays as best we could. Shopping for gifts in Dublin, ordering the Christmas turkey and New Year's ham, waiting an hour in the "queue" at the grocery store nearby in an attempt to stock up the refrigerator. We walked up the street to the nearest Christmas tree lot to find the perfect tree for our first holiday season in another country. We had to be careful with our choices. I have a tendency to want the "perfect" tree; tall, full-bodied, green and fragrant. But this year we were carrying our tree home with us, or rather, Rob was carrying our tree home for us, and my drive for the "perfect" tree had to be reigned in. We finally found our tree, and Rob somehow avoided throwing his back out as he heroically carried it all the way back home. We had bought some inexpensive lights and ornaments and now we broke out the whisky, put on the holiday music, and set about the task of decorating the tree. However, carol-singing mommy soon became as red-faced as Rudolph's nose, swearing under my breath. The string of lights I had bought were frustratingly tangled, twisted and, it soon became obvious, too, too short. Looking back, it was my own fault for choosing the cheap lights, but at the time I was thanking the powers that be that I had the lights in one hand and a whisky in the other. Delaney and Gwenna didn't seem to notice though, and they (Gwenna especially) enjoyed playing a game wherein Delaney would hang an ornament and Gwenna would promptly remove it. Luckily buying cheap worked in my favor this time, for the sturdy plastic ornaments weathered the season remarkably well. When the tree was finally finished we placed the sun (homemade by Delaney and yours truly) on the top of the tree. Apparently the traditional Irish tree-topper is a fairy (not an angel, a fairy), but I was unable to find one in all my searches.

Christmas Eve finally rolled around, and my mom and Mark arrived at the Dublin airport. Kevin's passport still had not arrived, and to the disappointment of all he had to stay behind in L.A. Delaney woke us all up on Christmas morning with the good news that Santa had indeed found us in our foreign digs. The next few hours were spent joyously opening gifts, taking pictures, and playing with all of our new toys. This day, at least, was filled with all the comfortable and cherished traditions of stockings, presents, turkey dinner, the afternoon walk, and most important--family.

The day after Christmas is St. Stephens day, and is as big a holiday here in Ireland as Christmas itself. Everybody stays home to recover so stores are closed, busses and trains don't run, everything is as quiet as a mouse. Our plans to spend the day in Dublin had to be put on hold. The next day we did go into the city, where we managed to have a good time and see some of the sights in spite of the fact that many of the usual sights still remained closed. We were able to enjoy the vast Trinity College campus, the natural beauty of St. Stephen's Green, and the magnificence of St. Patrick's Cathedral. We were all inclined to enjoy the day no matter what, as that morning Kevin had called with the good news that his passport had finally arrived and he had a seat on the next day's flight to Dublin!

After Kevin arrived we hustled him home, packed everyone into the car we rented, and took off on a 3 day road trip down the eastern coast to Waterford. Waterford, as you probably know, is the home of the world famous crystal factory, and is also a bustling harbor town. The landscape on the drive there is everything the books about Ireland boast, with green rolling fields, picturesque stone walls, crumbling castle ruins and tiny towns where the cobblestone streets are lined with pubs. In addition to visiting the Waterford crystal factory (which sadly, does not give tours during the winter season), we managed to walk the castle grounds in Kilkenny, and visit a few of those traditional small-town pubs, tasting some local brew in the process.

As similar as Irish culture is to ours in many ways, one of the biggest differences between the two is the way they value their time off. We discovered this holiday season that the week between Christmas and New Year is a time to spend with family and friends. Not just for company employees but for those in service-related jobs as well. Many stores, restaurants, and even transportation providers remain closed or off-duty during this week, choosing the wealth that comes from time spent "on holiday" to the wealth of revenues that could be gained by catering to tourists. As disappointed as I was not to be able to show my mom all the wonders Ireland has to offer during her short stay here, I admire this culture that values family over business and has such respect for their well-earned time off.

As the Irish say, "Happy Christmas!"