Long time
no blogging, I know. Too much has happened for me to relay in this single post
but there will be more updates and tales of my adventures coming further down
the road. All you need to know right now is that I had a mishap with my laptop
and that it is currently in the process of being resolved. It isn’t exactly an
ideal situation but that’s the way life goes, isn’t it? Stuff happens. Anyway, I have so much to share! I haven’t even described yet how I spent the
glorious holiday that celebrates Ireland’s patron saint.
I left Waterford
the day before the holiday to be met in Dublin by my friend from college, Mara,
who is living in Dublin for the next year. After getting settled into Mara’s
apartment, we ventured out on the town in search for the craic, the Irish name for all that is fun and enjoyable.
Our search
began at the Dublin street fair. Mara, being the angel that she is, had free
passes for all of the rides because she had volunteered for the festival the
day before. We rode everything, from the most nauseating height launcher to the
kiddie funhouse. A free pass is a free pass so we made the most of it. I left
the carnival with a turned stomach and a new appreciation for the city of
Dublin which I had consequently seen upside down from fifty feet in the air.
I can’t say
that we found the craic at the carnival but we definitely found it at the next
event, the St. Patrick’s Day Festival Ceili. It was here that I had my first
experience in Irish dance. Mara and I learned all kinds of group moves and
listened to different types of Irish music. We stayed for the entire event
which lasted three hours, by the end of which Mara and I had found dance
partners from Germany, the United States, and of course, Ireland. The highlight
of this experience was, without a doubt, when an elderly Irishman asked me to
waltz with him. I had only a small idea of what I was supposed to do but even
so it was incredibly fun. I believe this is what they (the
Irish) mean when they talk about the craic.
The best Irish Waltz partner in Dublin
After finding burritos to satisfy the
dance induced hunger Mara and I were experiencing, there was only one more
logical progression to the evening, and that was to hit the pub. We met up with
all of Mara’s roommates at a big pub that I had actually visited when I did the
backpacker’s pub crawl my first week in Ireland. We had a grand time and I
found no less than three portraits of JFK hanging on the interior walls. Day
one of festivities proved to be a good ole time and I had a very good feeling
that the next day would be even better.
Surreal is how I would describe the
actual holiday itself. Mara had the genius idea of volunteering for the parade.
When she originally suggested this I assumed we would be picking up trash after
the parade. I could not have been more wrong.
Our volunteer assignment was to carry
a promotional banner in the parade. We didn’t just carry any old promotional
banner though. We carried the closing banner of the parade. That’s right, by a
stroke of pure Irish luck Mara and I closed out the St. Patrick’s Day parade in
Dublin.
"Slan Agus Beannacht" means "Goodbye & Blessings" in Irish
The St. Patrick’s parade in Dublin is
no joke. It is a production to the highest degree. There are different pageants
that glide through the streets dressed in the most beautiful and elaborate
costumes. A few of the things I saw were faeries, leprechauns, and flowers
blooming from cycling helmets. There was music provided by American marching bands
as well as other displays of art and entertainment.
As I carried my end of the banner
down the parade route, I felt like none of it was real. It was too perfect. I
witnessed thousands of smiling faces spread throughout historic streets. I high
fived at least three dozen little kids, every one of them responding in elated
enthusiasm. The energy of this single event was euphoric.
Carrying a banner has never been so exciting
The only way to follow an experience
as perfect as walking in the parade was to enjoy a perfect pint. All of the
pubs throughout Dublin were packed as you might imagine. We found our way into
a pub, another one from the backpacker’s pub crawl, and enjoyed some fine Irish
beverages. The craic was to be had here. The live band played everything from
Oasis to Irish folk ballads and became more daring in their song selections as
they became more intoxicated. It was grand.
We ended the night by hanging out
with students from the University College of Dublin, whom Mara knew. After
spending the holiday with other foreigners it was nice to end the day with
people who actually grew up in Ireland.
Experiencing St. Patrick's Day in Dublin felt like a once-in-a lifetime kind of thing. I still can't believe Mara and I got so lucky. Every March 17 I know I will reminiscence about this day in particular. .
