The Buchanan Irish Journal

A Few Last Thoughts...

2007-07-17T08:40:00.000-07:00

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

2006-02-28T06:43:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-21T05:27:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-04T03:13:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-28T10:12:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-20T09:03:00.000-08:00

(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!!

2006-01-10T09:56:00.000-08:00

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

2006-01-10T06:16:00.000-08:00

(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!"

Shakespeare's England

2005-12-19T15:23:00.000-08:00

For my 30th birthday the family took me on a 4 day weekend to Shakespeare's England. I can't think of a better way to bring in a new decade of my life than making a pilgrimage to the birthplace of one of the greatest writers of all time. It was a wonderful trip! Since England is just across the Irish Sea from our little Island of Ireland, the flight was cheap and the plane ride was short. It was the perfect first vacation with the kids to test the waters. I must say, they held up very well. I think they may become first-rate world travelers in no time!

We left Ireland early, early, early Saturday morning and landed in Birmingham, England at 8:30am. We rented a car at the airport and drove 45 minutes to the Avon Guesthouse in Warwick (pronounced War-ick; drop the 2nd w). Once we had settled into the guest house, the proprietor, a very friendly guy with a 1 year old daughter of his own, gave us some great ideas about kid-friendly places around town to stretch our legs. The town of Warwick is an absolutely beautiful town. It is built around the meandering river Avon, and Warwick Castle, one of the oldest, best preserved castles in the area. It has historical 15th century buildings, quaint cobblestone streets, and a lovely town center filled with shops and restaurants. I also got the impression that Warwick is a community-oriented town, as one of it's largest features is St. Nicholas' park, which contains an impressive community and sports center, a skate park and BMX track, a playground any kid would go crazy for, and a small carnival area with rides and wading pools (closed during these winter months, but we could see how attractive it would be to families with small kids in the spring and summer). I fell in love with the town of Warwick that first day.

Our first stop was St. Nicholas' park. Delaney and Gwenna were in 7th heaven at the playground, and Rob and I took the opportunity to catch our first glimpses of the river Avon. Unlike most rivers I have seen in California, the Avon is a deep, slow, gentle river. It's the kind you want to build your house next to, the kind you go row-boating on in the summer. In fact, we saw a boathouse in the park that I imagine does heavy business from April through September. When the kids had their fill of the playground (or rather when Rob and I bribed them away with promises of food and ice-cream), we continued our walk through town to find a good spot for lunch. We were lucky enough to be there on a Saturday, when the Farmer's Market was going on, and were treated to a perusal of local crafts and cooking. After eating lunch in a local pub we made our way over to the castle.

The castle must have been the center of town business in the medieval days, and my guess would be that it still is. The wooden beginnings of Warwick castle were first built in 1068 by William the Conqueror! William gave the fort and land to his loyal subject Henry de Beaumont, who he appointed the first Earl of Warwick in 1088. The wood fort was rebuilt into a stone castle in 1260, although it grew and changed over the centuries as it passed from hand to hand through family inheritance, or from sovereign to sovereign. For such a long history, Warwick Castle is amazingly well-preserved. No crumbling stone remains, this. This castle is almost completely intact, as far as I could see. And it's been turned into an impressively informative, kid-friendly, hands-on museum. We walked through the main hall and got a fascinating view of what the castle had been decorated like through the centuries, not to mention a compelling glimpse of what life may have been like for many of the inhabitants during different eras. We were able to climb the MANY steps up the tall, tall towers to tour the ramparts and towers, seeing the castle, the town, and surrounding countryside miles around in every direction. We went down into the depths of the dungeon for a lesson in ancient prisons and torture devices (not for the faint of heart). And finally, we explored the grounds, finding the peacock garden filled with live peacocks, the tournament green (a huge grassy area where medieval jousting tournaments were held), the conservatory, and of course, the river Avon.

Warwick Castle hosts a holiday "Frost Faire" during the months of December and January, which meant there was an ice-skating rink set up in the castle courtyard, people dressed up as fauns, fairies, and the Frost King, and there were booths selling seasonal goodies along the drive up to the castle entrance. Delaney went ice-skating here for the first time the evening of our second night in Warwick. She was a natural! She went out onto the ice holding my hand, and after one time around she let go and I had to work to keep up with her!

Not surprisingly, the castle held much of our attention for the first couple of days, but we did manage to walk around the rest of the town and see other sights, such as Lord Leycester Hospital, which was founded in 1571 by Robert Dudley (favorite of Queen Elizabeth) as a hospital for aged or disabled soldiers and their wives. After more than 4 centuries, it still serves as a retirement hospital for soldiers of Her Majesty's service and their wives. It also houses a military museum, which gave us an interesting insight into the other side of English colonialism and especially the Irish revolutionaries. Speaking with residents of the hospital was one of the most interesting parts of the trip, as it illuminated how close the English are to their impressive history. They refer to Queen Elizabeth and her contemporaries almost as though they were just there. Four centuries is not such a long time ago, when your recorded history stretches back so far. I can understand now how America (as a whole, not on an individual basis, in our experience) can be thought of as self-absorbed upstarts. American society is in its teenage years, relatively speaking, and has a lot of growing pains yet to go through, and learning to do.

On our third day we finally moved on to the place that was the purpose of our trip, Stratford-Upon-Avon, birth and burial place of William Shakespeare. As a devoted fan of Shakespeare, I was thrilled to be able to see the town of his youth and eventual retirement. We saw much of what Stratford had to offer, including the house Shakespeare was born in, the site of his home upon his retirement, and the farm his mother grew up on; all of which have been turned into charming museums. Because we were there during the off season we were not inundated with crowds of other tourists, and so we were able to take our time and enjoy the serene landscape along the river, talk with the docents in the museums to hear the stories they had to tell, and wander uninterrupted through gardens where other literary greats such as Charles Dickens, Sir Walter Scott, and many more have wandered before us, also paying their respects to possibly the greatest writer in the Western Canon.

The most touching part of the journey for me was visiting the small Trinity Church which houses William Shakespeare's grave. This ancient church sits on the outskirts of town, along the bank of the river Avon. It is surrounded by quiet groves of trees and secluded green clearings. As you leave the small wilderness around the church you find yourself walking along a gravel and flagstone path that leads up to the large wooden doors. The path is bookended by a charming cemetery which wraps all the way around the church, and houses gravestones that date back to 1051 at least. Many of the gravestones were so worn that the dates were impossible to make out. Shakespeare's own grave is found within the church, which is itself a quiet and comforting place, filled with amazingly crafted wood carvings dating back centuries. The pews are covered with hand embroidered pillows, and the place is warmly lit with a mixture of candlelight and natural light filtered in from the windows. Forgive me if I wax poetic, but honestly, is there any better place to describe sentimentally than the grave of the Bard himself?

I do wish we could have stayed longer in Stratford, especially when we visited two of the three theaters in town and found that they did not offer tours on the days we were there. The Royal Shakespeare Theater, and the Swan Theater, both right along the river, had schedules posted of the plays and musicals they were offering in upcoming months, and the playlists made me drool, wishing not for the first time we could come back again. . . and again, and again, and again!!

Pictures of Shakespeare's England

2005-12-18T05:54:00.000-08:00

Photos are, from right to left and top to bottom: The front doors of Trinity Church, the site of Shakespeare's place of retirement, the cemetery at Trinity Church, Trinity Church spire and nave, the Royal Shakespeare Theater, inside Trinity Church (site of Shakespeare's grave), a swan outside the Swan Theater, Delaney and Gwenna with Hamlet, a street in Warwick, Delaney and Mommy in the peacock garden of Warwick castle, Gwenna and Mommy in front of Warwick castle, the ramparts and towers of Warwick castle.

An American Thanksgiving in Ireland

2005-11-30T05:16:00.000-08:00

Much as we tried to celebrate in our usual manner, Thanksgiving this year had a definite Irish flavor. . . Literally! As I did the usual turkey-day shopping, I found myself hitting walls at every corner. I didn't go early enough to the butcher to obtain a turkey, so I bought the biggest whole chicken I could find instead. As for stuffing, it is a little different here than what we make in the states. To start with, they don't stuff it in the bird! Irish stuffing consists of very, very tiny bits of dry bread, mixed with mostly dried spices, no celery or onion, or any other secret family ingredients, then it is formed into small balls like meatballs, and cooked in oil. The result is delicious, but decidedly Irish. Since we were trying to bring as much of America into the holiday as possible I chose to go the "old-fashioned" way, including celery, onion, etc., and stuff it inside the chicken. The stuffing we ended up with tasted just enough like what we are familiar with to highlight the differences. Although good, every bite of stuffing made us feel that while it was hard to put our fingers on it, something was just missing. The gravy also, was very different. Chicken just doesn't have as much dripping as turkey, and I was unable to find my trusty chicken broth standby, so I made gravy with chicken bouillon instead. The result was adequate, but not something I would recommend. After all this, my adventurous nature was pushed to the limit, and the rest of the meal consisted of the very basics for rolls, green-beans, and mashed potatoes. As Ireland is the potato motherland, and I have mentioned in previous entries the superiority of their bread, you can imagine the satisfaction with that part of the meal, at least. The result of our American-Irish Thanksgiving feast was to make us laughingly thankful of the Thanksgiving memories we have, and to look forward to future Thanksgivings with friends and family.

For the "holiday" weekend, we decided to get to know more about our area of Ireland, and we hopped on the DART train to explore the southern Dublin area. After about an hour long ride which took us through the heart of Dublin city, and then out through the southern suburbs, which offer an absolutely gorgeous ocean vista, we ended up in Bray, a lovely seaside town with a beautiful boardwalk along the sea, which terminates in a casino/arcade where we ate lunch. We could see evidence of the carnival the area must host during the summer, but which was sadly all closed up for the winter months. After lunch we took a taxi through the charming village of Enniskerry to Powerscourt house and gardens. The house is huge, and currently contains a cafe, numerous gift shops, and a visitors center. But the real draw to Powerscourt is the gardens. One of the largest properties in Ireland, the huge cultivated gardens make up just a small percentage of the whole Powerscourt estate. I have to admit, the Powerscourt gardens were the highlight of my week! We started out at the huge, grand staircase which leads down to Triton lake, and gives you a majestic view of the whole gardens, lake, and Wicklow mountains beyond. As we wound our way leisurely through the gardens we passed the beautifully private and secluded dolphin pond, the touching pet cemetery (which contained headstones with the names and breeds of the horses, dogs and other pets, and proclaiming the love, devotion and loyalty of each one during their lives), a field of grazing horses, and a number of Greek-style statues. We spent most of our time in the magnificent Japanese gardens, which were like a maze, around every corner of which we met with a new treasure; a delicate bridge, a moss-covered stone cave, a gazebo in a clearing, or a breathtaking display of autumn colors on a tree. I could spend ten such weekends in the Powerscourt gardens and not get tired of the place.

Sadly, the following day Gwenna came down with a pretty nasty cold, which has kept me from updating this website in a timely manner. She is feeling much better now, I'm happy to say, and so I am glad to finally be able to share our Irish Thanksgiving weekend with you.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Boxes, Books and Birthdays

2005-11-21T05:40:00.000-08:00

This week brought the delivery of some of our boxes from our house in California, allowing us to make our house here seem more like home. The first to be opened was a box of books I packed. Delaney must have thought her mom had gone off her rocker when I literally fell to my knees and kissed my books, but she just doesn't appreciate how hard this literary drought has been on me! I've had to live for 5 weeks on the 3 books I brought with me on the plane in my carry-on. Oh, I've been able to go to bookstores and buy a few books, but a diet of Maeve Binchy and Roddy Doyle just does not compare to the feast of authors that were oh-so-slowly making their way over on the freight boat from the states. I was so pleased I immediately re-arranged our sitting room furniture to make a little reading nook--thinking now that I had my books I would enjoy a comfortable place to sit quietly and enjoy them. Little did I know that the enjoyment of the reading nook would come not from me, but from my two theiving bookworms, who promptly usurped the comfy little niche (shown in the picture, above).

Also in the boxes were kids books, some movies, our personal files, pictures and quilts. Now that we have our own books on the shelves, pictures on the walls, and quilts on the furniture, we feel much more at home. Looking back to our pre-move days, I remember worrying that we were shipping the right things. Rob and I wondered if we should be shipping more practical things... Kitchen paraphernalia, perhaps. But now that we're here, we see that we packed and shipped exactly the right things. Kitchen stuff can be bought, but the little things that say home to you are impossible to replace. We're still waiting for a couple of boxes containing some of the kids toys, that should arrive any day. I'm sure once Delaney's dolls, animals and games arrive she'll have a better understanding of what might motivate a person to embrace a box with the fervor of a long-lost lover!

While I spent the week warming our home, Delaney spent it making inroads with the local kids. Every afternoon found her playing with her "best friend in Ireland", and many of those afternoons they spent playing outside, running up and down the street with the other kids in the neighborhood. There was one day when all three of the three girls on our street were unavailable to play, each having some kind of afterschool activity keeping her from home. Delaney dejectedly chose to stay outside, in the hopes of catching one of her friends as soon as she came home. When I went out to check on her 15 mins. later I found her kicking a football with one of the boys down the street. When I called her in to dinner 2 hours later she was running around in the thick of a game with 4 other boys on the street, all of them about 4 years older than her, all of them patiently teaching her the rules of the game, or doing any number of silly tricks or stunts to coax a laugh out of my shy daughter. I have been extremely pleased to see that all of the kids on our street, regardless of age, play together very well. The older kids include the younger in their games, no one gets picked on, or left out. Even the younger kids will give up their ball for Gwenna, or offer to give one of the other babies in the neighborhood a ride on their tricycle. And they all roam freely from house to house. One day this week I had Delaney and her friend over here playing upstairs, and the 3 year old brother of one of Delaney's other friends came over and camped out in our playroom to play with Gwenna for a while.

Before you start thinking this is all too utopian, let me say that they still act like kids. A group of three kids building a fort (as happened this weekend) will still argue over who gets to sit in it first and with who. But ultimately I'm very happy that we live in the neighborhood we do, and that the kids have what seem to be such nice friends. Delaney was invited to a birthday party this past weekend. The party took place at a pottery-painting place, and after cake and ice-cream the kids all got to play at an indoor playground for a while. Delaney was so excited about it she had picked out her party dress a week ahead of time!

Our research into the culture continues to bring new surprises. We just discovered that many of the schools in Ireland require kids to be baptized before they can enroll. Not such a big deal in a country that is 97% Catholic, but it was quite a surprise to Rob and I, heathen Americans that we are, used to the separation of church and state! We also discovered that although this idea of living in another country is a brave adventure for us, it's nothing unusual to the Europeans. It's quite common here for a person in their early 20s to spend a couple of years living and working in another country before coming home to settle down in their chosen career. This is lucky for us, as we have many neighbors and friends who have traveled all over Europe, and are more than happy to share with us their advice on what cities and countries are the best to visit and when. It has made Rob and I very excited about our travel plans for the year.

The weather is getting colder and colder. We woke up this morning to find a heavy white frost blanketing the ground, and the little pond in our backyard had a layer of ice on it. The kids (and I) have had fun skating around on the frost-covered grass, and using sticks to break the ice on the pond. We've talked about the plants and animals that are burrowing down to hibernate, and are enjoying the new smell of peat fires in our fireplace in the evenings as we burrow into our comfy couch. It starts to get dark around 4:30 or 5 these days, so there's plenty of evening time to spend with a warm fire and a good book. Which just happens to be two of my favorite things!

Legal Aliens

2005-11-14T05:47:00.000-08:00

(The pictures above are of the coastline by our house, the street is the street we live on.)

This week the Buchanan family became legal aliens residing in the country of Ireland. Before this we were merely posers, interlopers, pretenders; but now, now we are free to pick up the accent, speak with authority on matters of politic, and claim this beautiful island as our own. Well, perhaps we can't do all those things quite yet, but we can now leave the country, and when we try to come back they'll let us in, and that is no small thing. After all, doesn't the saying go "Home is the place where when you have to come back, they have to let you in?" So although we can't claim Ireland as our own, we can claim it as our home.

In order to register as a legal alien in Ireland, you have to have four things: a local address, a visa of some kind, proof of private health insurance, and a bank statement proving you have the financial means to support yourself and your family. Once you have all these things (but before the visit expiration date stamped on your passport) you go into the city of Dublin and register with the immigration office in the Garda (police) building. The expiration date on all of our passports was Nov. 11, and so in true procrastinator fashion, the dawn of Nov. 11 found us waking at 5:30am and traveling into the city with two sleepy children to wait in line with all the other foreigners outside the immigration office. It was a good thing we got there early, because by the time it opened at 8am the line wrapped halfway around the city block. Once inside the process was easy, we waited for our number to be called, whereupon we presented our passports, plus all the above-mentioned evidence, the immigration officer took our pictures, and 5 minutes later handed us our registration cards. The cards look much like drivers licenses (it even has the picture where you look like you just woke up.) And so another milestone passes by the wayside.

Although we were never worried about it, it is a little reassuring to know that as legal residents we can't now be kicked out in the cold. Especially since the weather really has been cold. The experience of bundling up with scarves, coats, and mittens is not one we are used to in sunny California. We bought both kids rubbers this week (as in rubber rain boots), and as a California native I had some lessons to learn. The first day the kids went out in their rubbers they came back with their socks and pants just as wet and soggy as if they had been wearing regular shoes. "What a scam!" I thought, fuming about paying money for purposeless shoes as I hung socks and pants on radiators throughout the house. The next day though, I noticed other kids wearing rubbers and realized my mistake... You're supposed to tuck the pants inside the boots! The girls' feet have been much dryer ever since.

A benefit of the cold weather that we Californians are absolutely in awe over is the changing of the leaves. Who knew the autumn could bring such beauty! The girls (and myself, I must admit) have been filling the house with the brilliant colors of autumn leaves. We never come back from a walk without at least a handful of them. Our neighbors look at us askance, I'm sure, but we are enjoying the new experience of the season.

This week we spent a lot of time playing at the coast near our house. After bundling up (of course) we leave the house and go around the corner, through what Delaney calls "the little forest", across a beautiful green field, and there we are on the water. It's not a sandy beach, like we are used to in Southern California, it's a narrow, rocky shore where we've been able to find a plethora of shells and pretty stones, not to mention plenty of rocks to climb on. Most of the shells are little clam and mussel shells, with a few sea snail shells here and there. Because our coast is the coast of an inlet, there are very few waves to speak of. The water laps gently at the gravelly shore, and the birds from the sanctuary nearby fill the air with their cries. As long as you have a warm coat to protect you from the bite of the wind (and your pants tucked into your rubbers, of course) it's a very serene place to spend an afternoon.

Now that I've waxed poetic about the season and the sea, let me give some space to the more prosaic aspects of life. Delaney has found a good friend on our street, and the two of them have been playing together at one of the two houses every day this week. We went to the nearby mall this past weekend, and people are out in full force shopping for the holidays. The stores are all decorated with Santas and snowmen, and the holiday "specials" have begun. One interesting thing about most of the stores here, especially grocery stores, is that they don't automatically put your goods and groceries in bags for you. People here buy bags made of thin canvas for about a dollar, and you take them with you when you go grocery shopping. Then you pack your own groceries into the bags to take home. If you don't have your own bags you can have the clerks pack your groceries into plastic bags, like grocery stores in the states, but they charge you a small amount of change per bag. It's a little less convenient, and puts more responsibility on the shopper to remember their bag, but I find that I'm happy to do it if it keeps waste down and is more environmentally friendly. Once you get used to it, you see that (like most things here) it's a very efficient process.

Some other examples of efficiency here in Ireland that I appreciate are their cell phone service system and their waste disposal system. When you get a cell phone here you don't have to sign up for a calling plan, instead you call the cell phone provider and they charge a certain amount to your credit card, say 30 euros*. Then you have 30 euros worth of calling time. When you start to run low you can do what they call "topping up", which is buying more time, by any number of ways, including buying it at an ATM, a "top up" station, or calling a number on your cell phone. This system appeals to me because you get exactly what you pay for. No lost unused minutes at the end of the month, or paying extra if you go over your allotted number of minutes. Brilliant! The trash system is similar. You buy "trash tickets" at the grocery store for 6 euro. Every Monday the trash truck comes by, and if you need your trash taken you put a trash ticket on the bin and take the bin to the curb. If it's been a low trash week you skip it, and save the 6 euro.

In many ways I love this efficient society, and yet there are plenty of things I miss about the society of convenience in the states. For example, I still have not gotten used to having the clothes washer in the kitchen! But with the ocean and the autumn right outside the door, who has time to do laundry anyway!

*The euro that I talk about here, as I'm sure everyone knows, is the currency used in Ireland, as well as any other country belonging to the European Union.

Making Friends

2005-11-07T01:54:00.000-08:00

(The pictures above are of Dublin castle, Delaney at the Malahide castle playground, the estuary near our house, and Gwenna with the football.)

I am pleased (and not a little relieved) to write that Delaney has made some friends in the neighborhood. One day last week as we were playing outside we saw some little girls who looked to be about Delaney's age. We went over to say hi to them, and as luck would have it, one of them seems to be the social director of the neighborhood. This little girl, barely 7 years old, introduced herself and her friend, and invited us back to her house to meet her mom and for Delaney to see her room. After this, the very poised 7 year old took us around the neighborhood, ringing the doorbells of all the houses with little girls, introducing me to the parents and Delaney to the daughters! We could not have had a better guide. Now, although she's still a little shy, I think Delaney feels a little more at home here. She's even decided that one of the girls is her "best friend in Ireland". It was nice for me to be able to meet more of our neighbors, and good to be able to talk with other moms with children the same age as my own. One of the benefits of these conversations is that we feel very confidant in the school in which we are trying to enroll Delaney.

This weekend Rob and I took the girls into Dublin city for a little sightseeing. Ireland is 97% Catholic, and most businesses, busses and transportation shut down on Sunday. That being so, we made sure to take our little outing on Saturday. The first thing we did in the city was go on a sightseeing tour by boat of the river Liffey. The city of Dublin was originally a port-city built around the river Liffey, which runs into the Irish sea. The one hour tour took us from the middle of the city down to the harbor portion of the city, which because it isn't built up as a tourist/shopping area, is rarely seen by tourists. The tour really accentuated the fact that Dublin (and Ireland in general) has only recently come into it's booming economy. Everywhere you look there are new buildings going up, old buildings being repaired or refurbished, cities and neighborhoods being expanded or roads being re-surfaced. The river's edge was no exception, and it addition to all the boats docked in the harbor we saw plenty of construction along the banks of the Liffey.

After our Liffey Voyage we walked through the Temple Bar area south of the river to Dublin Castle. The castle is a perfect example of the way Ireland has been able to mingle the old with the new. Ancient stone turrets are flanked by the more modern brick and glass library. We arrived too late to take a tour, but the girls had a great time running around Dubh Linn (black lake, in Gaelic, the original name of Ireland's capital city) Gardens. The gardens were especially interesting in that the large grassy area had a pattern of two thin entwined snakes made out of cobbles in the center. As it started to get dark, we hopped back on the train back to our quaint little seaside village, stopping for fish & chips along the way. One of the amazing things Rob and I are constantly noticing is how common it is for people of all ages to walk around the city or village late into the night completely without fear. This is definitely a place without a culture of fear, where for the most part people feel that in a village or neighborhood, you all look out for each other.

I'd like to take this opportunity to note a few more differences in vocabulary and culture I picked up this week:
Something is not too expensive, it's "too dear"
Don't ask for the bathroom, it's the "toilet" or the "wc" (water closet)
Native Dubliners call themselves "Dubs"
You don't go on vacation, you go on "holiday"

As I mentioned, I've also been noticing some differences that aren't exactly vocabulary differences, but they're small enough to mention here with the language section. First of all, the Irish government obviously does not have the problem with "big tobacco" that we have in the states. If you buy a pack of cigarettes it has stamped across the front in big, bold letters "smoking kills!" Not that this seems to be any deterrant to the Irish people, who still smoke more than Americans seem to. The Irish also have very different tastes in snack food than we Amercians do. I noticed bags of "Prawn Cocktail flavored Potato Crisps" in the store last week. Yuck! But they more than make up for it with their bread, which even store-bought is the most delicious I've ever tasted! This is a tea, rather than coffee drinking country. Although we can find coffee, they have not nearly the selection we have in the states, and finding a coffee maker is nigh impossible! Still, we manage to find the things we need, and the things we can't find we don't have much trouble doing without.

Delaney just came running in here with the new football (football = soccer, in this part of the world) I bought yesterday, and I think we're going to go out and kick it around. Football is a HUGE sport here, and the boys in the neighborhood play it in the street all day long. Maybe one of us will show some talent and they'll ask us to join... I won't hold my breath!

Homesickness and Halloween

2005-11-01T01:48:00.000-08:00

This week the homesickness finally set in. Between saying goodbye to my mom on Monday, Rob being kept busy until late hours at work, and the gloomy weather, we were missing our friends, family and house in California.

Because of the rainy weather we spent a lot of our time in the house this week, which brought its own adventures. Learning to do laundry in an Irish washing machine, for example. Their washers are very small, about 1/3 the size of what we're used to in the states, and in Ireland clothes washers are installed in the kitchen, next to the dishwashers. I think this is for efficiency's sake, but it does take some getting used to. The clothes dryer, on the other hand, is in a shed in the backyard. This is because most people don't use them anyway. People hang their clothes on a line outside, or if it's raining (which it usually is) people drape them over the heaters that are installed in every room of the house. The humidity level in our house on laundry day is so high that a fish would feel right at home!

Cooking and shopping has been an interesting learning experience as well. Because everyone walks to the store, you don't "stock up" once a week like we used to in California. We go to the store every day usually, and pick up the ingredients we need for dinner, plus any staples we are running low on. My refridgerator has not looked so empty since my college days! Since my cookbooks are being shipped, I'm looking to other sources for meal ideas. My favorite so far is a website called www.allrecipes.com. One of the reasons I like them so much is that they give cooking temperatures in Farenheight and Celsius. They also have many easy, kid-friendly recipes. But finding ingredients is not always easy. Our little neighborhood store is not exactly a mecca of exotic foods and spices. It's not even a mecca of mundane foods and spices! White cheddar was substituted for Parmesan cheese one night, and I used crushed corn-flakes in place of the required bread-crumbs the night I made homemade chicken nuggets. I have, however, been striving to learn some of the local dinner favorites. Rob loved my shepherd's pie... Although the potato pancake is going to take some practice.

The main reason that the cloud of homesickness has settled over our house is that formal social groups are not as prevalent in Ireland as they are in the states. Or at least they aren't as well advertised. In the states we have mom's groups, religious groups, groups for married couples and groups for singles, we have groups for people who love dogs, groups for gardeners, for needlecrafters, sports fans. So far I have been able to find one e-mail group for moms in Ireland, and one e-mail group for moms in the EU (European Union). It is nice to have other moms to e-mail with, but it doesn't provide a physical person or people with whom to meet and talk face to face. And as for Delaney, there are plenty of kids in our neighborhood, including a number of girls her age, but she has so far been too shy to make any overtures of friendship beyond waving to them from behind my legs. We are looking for a school in the area for her, and after talking to our neighbors and looking at information online we think we've found the best fit. But as it is far enough away to be a bit too much of a walk for a 5 year old to make twice a day, we can't enroll her until we have a car. We are planning to remedy this situation this week by acquiring a vehicle, until then her only playmates have been myself and Gwenna. The two sisters manage to make their own fun (and quite a bit of noise), but I'm afraid I am a poor substitute for a class full of kids her own age.

And now, enough about homesickness! I want to leave you on a happy note, so I will tell you how the Irish celebrate Halloween. October 31 is a big day here in Ireland. It's a bank holiday, so most places of business are closed and employees have a long weekend. This is because Halloween, which used to be called Samhain [sow-en] is the ancient Celtic new-year. At this time of year the ancient pagans believed that the veil separating the world of the living and the world beyond was thinned, allowing spirits to walk among the living. Ancient peoples would put candles in their windows to light the spirits along their way, but they would also put protective charms out, letting the spirits know that they were not welcome in the house. (This is where the tradition of a scary-faced jack-o-lantern with a candle in it comes from). The ancient peoples would also put plates of food outside, to keep the spirits fed and happy. This would keep the spirits from desiring to wander indoors to look for sustenance. And it is from this tradition of putting out food that our own tradition of kids dressed as ghosts and goblins coming to knock on doors for food or candy comes from. Needless to say, current Irish tradition has kids dressing up and trick-or-treating, much to Delaney's relief and delight. Until very recently they also used to celebrate by having huge bonfires. The kids still light illegal bonfires in some areas, and all the kids manage to find enough firecrackers, sparklers and noise-makers to keep the parents up most of the night! In Dublin city, which was where I spent the day, they block off the streets and host a Halloween marathon in the morning, and by the afternoon all the shoppers descend on the city to begin their holiday gift-buying. As for the Buchanan household, we celebrated Halloween much the way we usually do. Delaney dressed up as a witch, and Rob took her out trick-or-treating around the neighborhood, while Gwenna and I stayed home to hand out candy to the hordes of kids who came knocking at our door. Gwenna was fascinated by all the costumes and kids, and Delaney came home with enough loot to last her till the new year!

If anyone would like to send letters to our poor little homesick souls please e-mail me at edana_bkwurm@yahoo.com for our mailing address. We would all (but Delaney especially) love to get mail from all of our dear friends back home.

Happy Halloween, everyone! And happy Celtic new year too!

Getting Around

2005-10-24T00:37:00.000-07:00

Our second week of living here has brought more adventures and lessons. Delaney got to ride on the top level of a double-decker bus and loved it (nerve-wracking for me), we saw more of the sights of Dublin city center after taking a train in and walking to Pheonix park, the largest enclosed parkland in Europe, but perhaps the biggest adventures came at the end of the week when we rented a car for the weekend to take my mom on a heyday trip to Galway before she left this morning.

That's right, we decided to try our luck on the "wrong" side of the road, and inasmuch as we didn't hurt ourselves or anyone else on the road, I'd say we came out ahead. Contrary to popular belief, driving on the left is not the difficult part of driving in Ireland. All traffic is going that way and you're very conscious of it. The difficult part for me was the narrow roads. This is a small island, and space here is at a premium. Which means if you want to keep those gorgeous wide swaths of green, you have to give up the comfortable wide swaths of road. That, in addition to the high speeds at which native drivers hurl their cars down the road made for some white-knuckle driving time for me. The relative hilarity of the Irish road signs make up for all the anxiety though. For example; "traffic calming" which we took to mean traffic was slowing down, since the drivers only seemed to be more agitated.

However, as I said before, we made it safely to each of our destinations, which were Newgrange and the River Boyne on Friday, and Galway over the weekend. Newgrange was absolutely awe-inspiring. It is an ancient passage tomb built over 5,000 years ago (that's older than Stonehenge and older than the pyramids at Giza). The tomb is shaped like a mound, about 6 meters high, with the walls and roof built with huge rocks, stacked in a spiralling corbelled pattern, and topped with 3 meters of soil, so that there is no evidence that any rain or moisture has penetrated since it was built. The stones and boulders that make up its walls and roof are not native to the Boyne valley, and had to have been brought over from other parts of the island. Quite a feat for the neolithic builders. But the most amazing part is a stone window-box that was built above the passage doorway. On the shortest day of the year, the winter solstice, and that day only, as the sun rises it shines directly into that window box, shining in a line down through the passage until it reaches the end and lights up the central chamber. Truly amazing. And excavations have produced evidence that it was in this tomb that the ancient peoples would put the cremated remains of their dead. There are also many spiral, diamond, and chevron carvings in the stone. As our guide told us, we don't really know what the meaning of the tomb or the carvings are, but one of my personal favorite theories is that the round chamber, with the passage leading up to it were meant to represent the womb and birth-canal, and the light coming in at dawn on the day of the sun's rebirth was to help guide their ancestors out of the realm of the dead to be reborn in a new (after) life.

The day after visiting Newgrange Rob was kind enough to watch the kids overnight so my mom and I could spend the weekend in Galway, on the other side of the island, about a 4 hour drive away. Galway is a beautiful city! A college town and a port town, it has a an adventurous feeling about it, like new possibilities and experiences are just around the corner, just beyond the horizon. The city has a number of beautiful seaside and riverside walking paths, a somber church around every corner, and a beautiful cobblestone lane that food lovers and shopaholics would dream about! Galway is the birthplace of the claddagh ring, that popular Irish design of two hands holding a heart, topped with a crown. The hands represent friendship, the heart love, and the crown loyalty. Tradition says that if the ring is worn with the bottom of the heart pointing toward the wrist it means you're taken, if the heart points out to the fingers then you are available.

The drive to get to Galway was one of the best parts. One could never get bored with the Irish countryside. It is by turns mild and fierce, with rolling green hills and calmly grazing sheep, then jagged rocky cliffs or plains, with trees that look like they can barely hold on. This is much like the weather, which will give you balmy sun one minute and wet stormy winds the next. This is a country of contradictions in all ways. The land, the weather, the history, or the people, you never know what you'll see or experience next.

My mom went home today, and now it truly is just us in this strange and beautiful land. Thank you mom for all your help and support. We miss you already.

Before I sign off, here are some more vocabulary differences:
Diapers are "nappies"
A fun time is "good crack" (from the Gaelic craigh)
You don't call someone on the phone, you "ring them"
Pants are "trousers", "pants" are undergarments
And having a "quickie" means a quick pint at the pub.

Again, the pictures above are not my own, but courtesy of http://www.knowth.com/index.htm and www.celtic-claddagh.com, respectively.

Living Here

2005-10-15T06:13:00.000-07:00

We arrived at the Dublin airport at 11am on Tuesday morning. After going through Immigration, picking up our luggage, and going through Customs, our family was finally reunited. Rob was waiting for us just outside of Customs. We were all happy to see him, but perhaps none more so than Delaney, who forgot all about her little sister (whose stroller she was pushing), and left Gwenna hanging in the middle of the airport to run into her daddy's arms. It was quite a reunion.

We lugged all of our many suitcases to the curb to catch a cab, as we have not been able to buy a car yet, and as we would our way through the rain I was able to look around me for my first glimpses of the place that is to be our home for the next few years. I'm not sure I can say that I got my first impression of Ireland on that day. I was jet-lagged, overwhelmed, preoccupied. I don't remember much from that ride in the cab. What I do remember was seeing our house for the first time. As Rob took us in, and took me through all the rooms, pointing out this little nook, or that little cranny, I remember thinking "It's perfect." And after living in it for a week, I still think that.

After we put down our luggage and settled in for a few minutes, Rob took us on a short walk to the corner store. Along the way we saw the two meadows that are just around the corner from us, and the inlet that comes in from the Irish Sea that is just on the other side of the meadow. Despite the rain, it was beautiful. The corner store is literally 5 minutes away, a tiny community store where everyone in the neighborhood of Seabury (our neighborhood) goes at the end of the day to pick up this or that for dinner that night. Next to it there is a great fish & chips place where we got our lunch.

One of the things that is so different here from California is that everybody walks. You walk to the store, to the train to get to work, to the beach, to school... everywhere! Because of this, there are no major shopping centers, no huge malls with parking lots that span the size of football fields. There are a lot of little community stores, and the village of Malahide, which has the family owned pubs, hardware store, school supply store, clothing boutiques, any many more, is only a 20 minute walk away. Along the way you pass a school, the Malahide castle grounds, the DART (Dublin train) station, a pottery studio, two churches, and another neighborhood grocery store. Not to mention innumerable people who are also walking to and from wherever their business takes them. We will definitely come back to California in better shape than we've ever been in!

We've only been here a week, and most of our time has been spent doing those little things that make a house a home. Buying dishes (called "crockery" in Ireland), towels, and other essentials. However, my mom and I did have a chance to go into Dublin city center on Friday. We walked along the Liffey (the main river that runs through the center of the city), took a tour given by a history expert (VERY entertaining and educational), saw Trinity College and the Book of Kells, and walked through the infamous cobbled streets of the Temple Bar area (used to be an area of Dublin filled with wild pubs, now remodeled to become a haven for tourists seeking an "authentic" Dublin experience). We had a grand time. I'm envious that Rob will be working in this exciting city every day.

Today we had lunch in a pub in the village, and we're taking the kids to visit Malahide castle. Here are some interesting vocabulary differences between California and Dublin:
French fries are called "chips"
Potato chips are called "crisps"
A stroller is a "buggy"
A supermarket cart is a "trolley"
Food to go is "take-away" food

The local accent is delightful. Very sing-songy and conversational. A little hard to get used to, but so appealing that I can easily imagine picking it up involuntarily. Perhaps the kids won't be the only ones coming back with an accent!

(By the way, since I'm writing this from the internet cafe, the castle picture above is courtesy of www.malahide.ie, not one taken with my own camera.)

Our House

2005-10-09T05:16:00.000-07:00

I am happy to announce that Rob has found us a house in Ireland, and he says it's perfect. I must say that from the pictures he's sent, I agree. Here is what Rob has to say about it, "It's a 4-bed, 2 1/2-bath house that's been completely refurbished inside...all new furniture, beds, carpet and paint/wallpaper. The kitchen is huge!
The house is located in a quiet cul de sac 2 blocks from the sea, 3-4 blocks from Malahide castle grounds, within walking distance of many, many huge swaths of green grassy areas. The neighborhood is obviously a very kid-friendly place, I saw plenty of strollers in front of houses, and kids riding their bikes around everywhere.

Overall, I think the house is very nice as everything is new and spacious, but here is what really sold me: MALAHIDE! The village of Malahide is a quaint little seaside village, complete with golf courses, a small but very cool village center with lots of neat little shops, and it has many schools to choose from. Malahide is 30 minutes from Dublin by train, 20 minutes to the airport (good for visitors), and close to the main road (the M50) that goes up toward Northern Ireland where we will presumably be catching the ferry to Scotland."

If you're interested in more information on Malahide, check out their website at www.malahide.ie. It's a great website, and really makes the town look perfect!

Overall, I have to say that from Rob's e-mails, and talking on the phone, it sounds too good to be true! Needless to say, Rob called the owner right away and expressed our interest, and he just told me the other day that the house is ours. We entered into a 1 year lease, and now I can relax. It's such a relief to know we have a place to live once we get over there.

Over here in the states, the kids and I are finishing up our last minute packing and preparing for the plane ride. 10 hours is a long time for anyone to be on a plane, especially 2 kids. I'm sure the ride over will be a challenge. But once we get over, the adventure can really begin!

A Flurry of Goodbyes

2005-10-03T21:40:00.000-07:00

Every day of this past month has brought a new goodbye. Goodbye to our cars as we sold them off, goodbye to our house as the movers emptied it before our eyes, goodbye to the neighborhood we love so much, goodbye to jobs and co-workers, to school and mates, and most especially, goodbye to our friends.

Delaney had a very touching going away party at her Montessori school on Friday. I brought cupcakes into the class, and all of Delaney's friends and teachers were there to share in the fun. Each of her classmates had drawn and written a goodbye card for Delaney a couple of days before, each with a unique and personal message for her. Even so, after the party the whole class sat down in a circle and each child got a chance to say a special goodbye to Delaney. Most touching was when one little girl asked, "Delaney, can I give you a hug?" and suddenly Delaney was surrounded by a throng of classmates, boys and girls alike, all wanting to give her a hug goodbye.

All of this leave-taking has had its ups and downs, and each of us is reacting in different ways. Delaney is at turns excited and angry about the move. One day she's asking, "Can we leave for Ireland tomorrow?" the next day demanding that she doesn't want to go. And saying goodbye, though it's obvious she enjoys the warmth and attention, the permanence of it doesn't seem to sink in. She's not the only one. Grasping the magnitude of the situation has been difficult for me as well. I'm so excited about the adventure, curious about this place where we have chosen to spend a chunk of our lives, overwhelmed by the enormous task of packing up our house - and our lives - here in California, that I feel numb sometimes, and unable to convey to my dearest friends the feeling I have upon leaving them. Rob, on the other hand, seems to be handling it better than anyone (with the exception of Gwenna, who is blissfully ignorant of the upheaval). With every box that is packed and goodbye that is said, Rob seems to become more buoyant and optimistic. Although he feels sadness as much as any of us, he seems better equipped to work through it and look ahead to the excitement of the future.

We said our final goodbyes to Southern California on Friday, Sept. 30th. Now Rob is flying across the sea to the country of our future residence, with a mere week to find a home for us in that unfamiliar place. As for the girls and I, we are spending a week in Morgan Hill with my mom before we will fly out to meet him on the 10th. With everything having serendipitously fallen into place on this side of the move, I can only hope that the stars will equally align for us on the other side. Somehow, I know that they will.

Pre-Departure; A Spartan Existence

2005-09-15T09:30:00.000-07:00

The days before our departure are speeding by, and there doesn't seem to be enough time to do everything. We had our yard sale last weekend and sold most of our worldly possessions. We've embraced minimalism and are keeping only the necessities: our couch, washer and dryer, books... you get the picture. It was surprisingly easy to make the decision to get rid of most of our "stuff". It's too expensive to ship it all, too expensive to store it for the 3 or so years we hope to stay overseas, and by the time we return we will be used to living without it. Anything we can't give up and can't take with us my mom has generously offered to store for us. So we're eating off a folding table, sleeping on the floor, watching the occasional movie on my computer, and slowly packing our monolithic suitcases.

The excitement of making this dream of ours come true is keeping at bay most of the saddness we feel at leaving the friends and family we have here. But every day, every get-togther is one less day of the life we know, and one less meeting with the friends we love. Thank goodness for the internet, for making the world a smaller place. It makes it a little easier for us to have this adventure knowing we are only a click away from sharing it with the people we love back home.

T minus 4 weeks

2005-09-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

Things are getting busy. We have our hands full getting things ready to leave... renting the house, selling the cars, packing things for storage, packing to take with us, packing things for the yard sale. "Getting ready" also includes learning about this blogging program. So I'll be getting on with that now. Here's a pre-Ireland picture of us all.