That's Got a Nice "Ring" to It

Reader, please knock on some wood for me. I only have fake-wood furniture in my room and I do not intend to tempt fate, especially when it comes to the Irish weather. Two weeks ago, Lindsay and I went on a trip to the Ring of Kerry organized by Marian Ní Shúilliobháin, a Modern Irish lecturer at UCC. The weather was amazing, the accommodation and meals were excellent, the company could not have been better, and of course, the scenery was breathtaking.
The trip ran from Friday afternoon to Sunday evening and we were able to see so much in such a short period of time. Marian, being from Kerry herself, provided us with an insider’s guide of the area.

Early Friday evening our group, consisting of thirty or so UCC students and a handful of students from the National University of Ireland - Galway, arrived at the Ring of Kerry Hotel in the town of Cahersiveen. On the way we actually drove through Killorglin, which if you recall from my first blog entry, is a larger town near Callinafercy – home to Nana Galvin before she came to the United States! I must admit, I found it pretty exciting to be so close to “home!”

We ate dinner at the hotel (yum!) and then went into a function hall to sit and listen to our guest speaker for the night, Maurice Fitzgerald, a famous Gaelic Footballer. Maurice spoke to us about how important Gaelic sports are to the Irish, especially for children. The Gaelic Athletic Association organizes Gaelic football, hurling, rounders, and Gaelic Handball. Football and hurling are the two most popular sports and after watching my flatmate Emma play in camogie (the women’s version of hurling) matches, I can completely understand how one could develop great sportsmanship, athletic ability and a wonderful competitive spirit by playing. Maurice had brought his ten year old son with him so that they could go back and forth with the football and show us some moves used in regular games. When his son told us he was on three different football teams and all of the practices he attended, I was reminded of my own days of Weymouth Youth Soccer and hiding under a living room end-table attempting to get out of going to practice…

Friday evening had concluded with ceili dancing, almost like a version of Irish line-dancing or as Marian referred to it, “Irish speed-dating.” It was a great way to meet everyone else and the jigging, jumping, and jiving ensured a good night’s sleep. Waking up feeling very well rested, Saturday started with an early breakfast and then it was back on the bus for sight-seeing. I’m sorry I won’t be providing you with loads of details of the scenery we saw. Would you mind the general summary of “everything was breathtaking, gorgeous, and green”? I’d love to show you my pictures sometime though, just ask!

Saturday evening is what I would really like to blog about. We had another guest speaker, Cait, a self-described “real South Kerry woman.” She did not appear nervous at all to speak to us although she later admitted that with English as a second language, Irish is her first language, she had worried we would not understand her properly. She had not reason to worry, we all understood her perfectly and her humor and easy-going nature captivated us, not easily done with a group of college students I might add. The amazing thing is, she did not talk to us about a near-death experience, a miraculous event, or anything at all that would ever make news headlines. Cait simply told us about her life growing up in Kerry. I knew I would absolutely have to include this in my blog when she described her childhood by saying “as kids, we weren’t slaves, we were just busy.”

Busy for my childhood was a dentist appointment and soccer practice (if I was dragged from beneath the end-table). Busy for Cait was walking to the well to get two buckets of water or to the store for oil for the one gas lamp in her home. She took shortcuts across a peat bog to get to school, often stopping to investigate birds’ nests, frogs, and any other interesting creature. When the teacher asked why she was late, as she often was, her reply of “we don’t have a clock at home,” may have been a lie but it was totally believable and a suitable excuse. She remembers when electricity first came to her region. This prompted the polite question from Lindsay of “so, not to be rude, but you grew up in 19…?”

Did I forget to mention Cait was 112? No, just kidding. She was not bothered at all to tell us she was sixty years old and the childhood she spoke of had been the typical childhood for almost anyone growing in Ireland during the 1950s. Amazing, isn’t it, to think of how rapidly things have changed? While Cait may have been excited to receive clothes or a doll from America on Christmas morning, I jumped for joy when I opened my battery-operated (and looking back now, a bit creepy) Furby. Different, different times. Now, don’t go and quote me and tell people I’d be happy to walk thirty minutes to the nearest water source every day, but I really don’t think I would mind a bit of a simpler life. Less technology, less hustle and bustle, more peace and quiet, more time to spend with friends and family.