Howiya from Dublin!

It’s still hard for me to believe that I am typing from Dublin, Ireland right now, and what a past few days it has been getting here!  I suppose the luck was on my side in getting to the green isle, because all my flights were (mostly) on time. The approach to the wild beauty of the coastline was a wonder to see out of the airplane window I had slumped and slept against for the past six hours. A pounding in my sinuses became concomitant with every miniscule dip the plane made, due a poor combination of a bad cold and even worse windy weather. My Irish plane neighbor said something to me while we were looking out the window. “I’m sorry?” I said. “Rough sea,” he repeated, gesturing towards the ocean below. After blinking, I finally understood what he was saying. And that, so far, has been a pattern for my interactions here in Dublin. As our advisors told us in orientation, you thought you came to an English speaking country, eh? Not quite. I’ve had to be all ears to understand the Irish accent since I’ve arrived, and have had to ask many questions about the meaning of words that I have no inkling of an idea about (Smiling and waiting for someone to take pity on the clueless American doesn’t quite work in this do-it-yourself kind of culture). However, that is an entire topic in itself for another time and another post.

What struck me the most as soon as the plane landed was the green. Everything you’ve heard about the flora of the country is true, and even in the winter, packed between the cement of the runways, think tumbling tufts of green grass were rippling in the wind.  Now the city of Dublin itself is much less green and much more industrial. After going amazingly quickly through customs, as well as after getting over the shock of drivers on the right-hand side of the cars, I was able to take a look at the city on the taxi ride from the airport to my hotel, the O’Callaghan Mont Clare. I barely had time to drop off my bags in my room before our first “activity” began. In the basement of the hotel, all of the students in the Institute for Study Abroad, Butler University program gathered in the Yeats room. Before we all had much of chance to meet each other, we were immediately immersed into our first introduction to Irish heritage. A loud, hilariously aggressive, stout woman named Helen plunged us vigorously into a beginner’s lesson on playing the bodhrán. Pronounced boh-ron, this circular drum is one of the oldest existing Irish instruments. Here we are with them:

I'm either laughing or thinking "this is impossible"

To play it, I had to sit, place it on my left knee, “hug” it a bit under my left arm, and place my left hand on the back of the stretched leather. With my right I held the stick used to play it, holding it like a pencil. It required practice and a great deal of wrist dexterity to hit the rum just right, swinging the stick like a pendulum facing yourself while simultaneously moving it toward your left to strike the drum. However, once I got the hang of it enough to try basic rhythms, it made a lovely sound in various combinations of striking as well as in combination with taping the wooden frame on the bodhrán sides. We laughingly played to jigs and reels, and some were even made to sing tunes in the style of traditional lilting (using nonsensical words to sings out rhythmic songs) much to their chagrin. But all in all, it was a lovely experience.

Following breakfast, our advisers gave us a morning chock-full of information about budgeting, class registration, lifestyle of local students, and so on (the less glamorous yet extremely pertinent info about studying abroad). What was much more fun was a visit to the famous Guinness storeroom and brewery. We walked for a bit through the dreary weather to the enormous buildings, and stepped inside to find a beautifully modern interactive museum space that spanned seven floors. On our own we toured through tons of various aspects of the Guinness company, from the extensive and highly-regarded brewing process to advertising and exporting.

Some of the traditionally and not-so-traditionally labelled barrels

Perhaps because I do not know much about beer, I was pleasantly surprised at how in depth and intricate the museum was. But one also must taste, and pour! On one of the upper levels was a pour room, in which bartenders held training sessions to teach us the proper way to pour a perfect Guinness pint. As explained to us by some of the professionals, it takes exactly 119.5 seconds to pour and serve Guinness draught, and should be done as follows:

1. Inspect the Guinness-labeled pint glass for any smudges or blemishes. It must be sparkling!
2. Tilt the glass at a 45 degree angle towards yourself.
3. Pull the Guinness handle towards yourself as well, and allow the glass to fill 3/4ths of the way before releasing the handle.
4. Set the glass on a drip tray to settle, waiting for the color to change completely to dark brown.
5. Holding the glass straight up, top up the pint to the rim of the glass. This time, push the bar away from you. And remember—no overflow!
6. Serve the perfect pint on the bar with the golden Guinness harp facing outwards.

And there you have it! We are supposedly “certified to pour the perfect pint” now. Yeah, sure.

I'll not be pouring that again... that was the heaviest, darkest beer imaginable.

It’s been a great introduction so far to this country. My next post will be coming from my new home in Galway! Until then, cheers!