I haven’t updated the last two or so weeks, so I hope everything will be pretty fresh. In my other updates I haven’t mentioned the weather. Every single Irish person I talk to tells me how unusually warm and sunny it is – 3 weeks of nothing but sun in Ireland!
The last two days in Belfast were free days, and we spent a lot of time at the pub at the Bot (the Botanic Inn) watching the football games and drinking beer. I’ve been drinking a lot of Jameson and Smithwick’s, though in Dublin there’s a bar called the Porterhouse that makes its own brews. Delish! Also, I had steak for the first time in months… well, I had it twice… in a steak and Guinness pie. When in Ireland, right? Also delish! I cannot stand the Irish tradition of frying EVERYTHING they eat, and I was constipated for almost a week (sorry for the overshare, but bodily reactions are a part of the traveling experience). One night in Belfast, we went to the city center and watched two guys from the O’Malley Experience, the show we saw the night before, play a show outside (brrr) a neat old pub… well, almost every pub in Ireland is a neat old pub. They are break-your-heart good musicians and played some blues and a few old Irish songs and bought us beers after the show. They said that the show was one of the most enjoyable they’d ever played, despite the cold. Lovely gentlemen.We took a train the next day to Derry/Londonderry and made the long hike with all of our luggage and had another free day in Derry/Londonderry, unfortunately on a Sunday when everything was closed. We were staying in a sweet little hotel/hostel/community center… I’m not really sure what to call it… in the middle of the local uptown park. We were far away from everything, so we did a lot of walking. They gave us meals everyday while we were there, and this was the beginning of the real upset stomach. I basically didn’t have any vegetables for 5 or 6 days, and so I broke down and purchased my own produce, which isn’t very good in Derry/Londonderry. The apples are the most fantastic apples I’ve ever had, and the carrots are good. That’s about it. Anyway! Kari and I took a walk over the river to look at the city, which is still covered with graffiti, flags everywhere demonstrating areas’ political allegiances, and a strange, almost hostile hush on the city that is indicative of the tension that still exists between both sides. We were walking on the wall around the city built in the 16-1700’s, now called the “peace wall,” and it obviously divides Catholic from Protestant neighborhoods. The peace wall exists in order to separate the neighborhoods and prevent people from either side to attack or bombard the other side. There are metal gates in front of the residential areas to prevent petrol bombs, rocks, nail bombs, etc., from hitting the homes. People’s backyards, where you can see children’s yard toys, are basically fenced in. It’s really shocking to see, 12 years after a formal ceasefire has been declared. We kept walking, and we accidentally found the Bogside, the Catholic ghetto of Derry/Londonderry (called Derry in the Bogside). It was surprising because we didn’t expect to come upon the site of so much violence and rioting and raids and political turmoil so quickly after seeing the nice Protestant neighborhoods. On a lighter note, Kari and I also went to a little shopping mall, where I purchased a new camera!
Monday, we went on a mural tour of the Bogside and the Bloody Sunday museum. We had two really fantastic tour guides, John Kelly in the museum and Adrian? around the city. Adrian told us in-depth history of Derry/Londonderry and showed us a lot of the murals that are painted on the sides of buildings that tell the stories of Bloody Sunday, the civil rights movement, how the women were involved, who has inspired peace in Free Derry, mourning the dead, etc. Bloody Sunday's a really fucked up event in 1972 when the British, who were supposed to be protecting the peace during a civil rights march, fired on the Nationalists and innocent civilians. The British soldiers got off almost completely blame-free because they claimed that the civilians were carrying weapons and throwing nail bombs. On June 15 (while we were in Belfast) The Saville Inquiry, after 11 years of reexamining the event, released a statement that all those killed or injured in the event were found to be innocent. 
John Kelly, brother of one of the victims Michael Kelly, was our tour guide in the museum. He explained that all he and his family had wanted was for Michael's name to be cleared. Michael's mother is now smiling in Heaven. Adrian also told us about growing up in the Bogside, in the same building as one of the leaders of the IRA. He told us about gathering any free cloth, such as from drapes or old clothing, for the women who were assembling trays of Molotov cocktails in the kitchen. When the British soldiers came to the edge of the Bogside (there was a blockade that the Nationalists had pulled down when the British soldiers first arrived, and then after Bloody Sunday they built it back up) and fired “non-lethal” rubber bullets at civilians, children would all wait for the rubber bullets to ricochet off of buildings, and then they would chase after the bullets. When the British left, the children would look for the metal shells from the bullets. While I climbed trees and played with my dog as a child, they were playing with rubber bullets. One mural commemorated a 12 year old girl who was shot by a British soldier with a rubber bullet and killed. These personal stories are what make the situation so potent and humanize the violence; I do want to say that we only went to the Catholic and Nationalist neighborhoods while in Derry/Londonderry. We have also heard the Unionist and Protestant side in Dublin, and I very much sympathize with both sides. However, hearing gory details from one side helps me understand how civilians have been inextricably involved with the political movements that civilians have no control over, how labels and names and symbols play their roles in these situations, how people are so apt to make judgments when they just don’t know.
Our last night in Derry/Londonderry, the whole group got together and watched a World Cup match and then sang karaoke and danced at the Icon, basically a nicer version of TGI Fridays, haha. They loved us, called our group a “breath of fresh air.” It was a nice wind-down from the heaviness of the day. The next morning was the last morning I would endure a traditional greasy Irish breakfast.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Derry/Londonderry
Monday, June 21, 2010
Day 3 Belfast, unedited
Quick disclaimer: our tours and experiences were mostly from the perspectives of Catholic Republicans, but this is not to put down the plight of the Protestant Unionists who have been living in Northern Ireland for hundreds of years as well.
Wednesday was pretty wonderful/dramatic. We went on a tour of Belfast with the famous Gerry, who showed us around the city, demonstrating which streets constituted which neighborhoods (the difference between Republican and Unionist neighborhoods can be a mere street) as well as the most amazing surprise along our mural tour – Danny Devenny, the artist who is responsible for most of the murals! This cannot mean much to someone who hasn’t met him, but he is such a wise, enlightening man with a powerful presence. I’ll talk about him later in my account. Anyway, it was an on and off bus tour that was unfortunately rushed and definitely not long enough, but Gerry presented us with photographs of the city from 30 years prior during the Troubles and then we compared it to present-day Belfast. Even today, you can see large dents next to the police station where they fired three rounds of RPGs, and the station is surrounded by metal protection and cameras. It gives you an eerie feeling like the protection is still definitely necessary. Gerry talked about different quarrels between the local Unionist groups, the UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force) and the UFF (Ulster Freedom Fighters), and that there were individuals with their own agendas who would use violence as a means to an end. Some families were mixed, meaning that there were Catholics and Protestants in one unit; nothing is black and white in these situations. No individuals are enemies in these situations; no sides of a fight are “bad” sides. When kids play games and one kid plays the “good guy” and the other the “bad guy,” they often grow up completely unaware that they apply that mentality to real life situations, and that’s just not applicable most of the time. The Republicans are big supporters for Palestine’s cause, flying the Palestinian flag in some places, so we talk about that situation and its applicability to Ireland often. I think that the Gaza blockade and the recent Israeli attacks on the flotilla providing humanitarian aid are absolutely despicable, shame on Israel, but they started as a displaced people in search of their holy land. I sympathize, and shame on America for involving itself yet again in affairs that it doesn’t understand or respect. In fact, on our fabulous mural tour, we witnessed some politically charged murals (you can see fabulous
Danny Devenny in front of a Bush mural) with portraits of people like MLK Jr., Nelson Mendela, and Mother Theresa. Danny was the artist who painted the internationally famous mural of political prisoner Bobby Sands, the mural that grabbed public attention and was shown on international television programs. Bobby Sands was a Republican political prisoner who won an MP seat in the British parliament while in the prison Long Kesh; he died almost a month after the election from starvation, a product of his world-famous hunger strike to achieve POW status instead of criminal status. He exposed the world to the lack of civil rights by the extremity of his actions, and many see him as a martyr (though old British PM Margaret Thatcher did not).
Currently, there is a feeling of hope for the future and a sense of peace that is slowly settling in people’s hearts, and Danny engendered that feeling of peace gained from the wisdom many developed from surviving the Troubles. He said something that really impacted a lot of us: (paraphrased) hindsight is like looking in a rear-view mirror; if you look too long, you’ll crash. What a hopeful reminder to stay present and work toward peace for their people! I’ve heard these hopeful sentiments from many different places and people, and it’s really refreshing after hearing about violence as a result of political control.
Wednesday was pretty wonderful/dramatic. We went on a tour of Belfast with the famous Gerry, who showed us around the city, demonstrating which streets constituted which neighborhoods (the difference between Republican and Unionist neighborhoods can be a mere street) as well as the most amazing surprise along our mural tour – Danny Devenny, the artist who is responsible for most of the murals! This cannot mean much to someone who hasn’t met him, but he is such a wise, enlightening man with a powerful presence. I’ll talk about him later in my account. Anyway, it was an on and off bus tour that was unfortunately rushed and definitely not long enough, but Gerry presented us with photographs of the city from 30 years prior during the Troubles and then we compared it to present-day Belfast. Even today, you can see large dents next to the police station where they fired three rounds of RPGs, and the station is surrounded by metal protection and cameras. It gives you an eerie feeling like the protection is still definitely necessary. Gerry talked about different quarrels between the local Unionist groups, the UVF (Ulster Volunteer Force) and the UFF (Ulster Freedom Fighters), and that there were individuals with their own agendas who would use violence as a means to an end. Some families were mixed, meaning that there were Catholics and Protestants in one unit; nothing is black and white in these situations. No individuals are enemies in these situations; no sides of a fight are “bad” sides. When kids play games and one kid plays the “good guy” and the other the “bad guy,” they often grow up completely unaware that they apply that mentality to real life situations, and that’s just not applicable most of the time. The Republicans are big supporters for Palestine’s cause, flying the Palestinian flag in some places, so we talk about that situation and its applicability to Ireland often. I think that the Gaza blockade and the recent Israeli attacks on the flotilla providing humanitarian aid are absolutely despicable, shame on Israel, but they started as a displaced people in search of their holy land. I sympathize, and shame on America for involving itself yet again in affairs that it doesn’t understand or respect. In fact, on our fabulous mural tour, we witnessed some politically charged murals (you can see fabulous
Danny Devenny in front of a Bush mural) with portraits of people like MLK Jr., Nelson Mendela, and Mother Theresa. Danny was the artist who painted the internationally famous mural of political prisoner Bobby Sands, the mural that grabbed public attention and was shown on international television programs. Bobby Sands was a Republican political prisoner who won an MP seat in the British parliament while in the prison Long Kesh; he died almost a month after the election from starvation, a product of his world-famous hunger strike to achieve POW status instead of criminal status. He exposed the world to the lack of civil rights by the extremity of his actions, and many see him as a martyr (though old British PM Margaret Thatcher did not).
Currently, there is a feeling of hope for the future and a sense of peace that is slowly settling in people’s hearts, and Danny engendered that feeling of peace gained from the wisdom many developed from surviving the Troubles. He said something that really impacted a lot of us: (paraphrased) hindsight is like looking in a rear-view mirror; if you look too long, you’ll crash. What a hopeful reminder to stay present and work toward peace for their people! I’ve heard these hopeful sentiments from many different places and people, and it’s really refreshing after hearing about violence as a result of political control.That night, we saw the O’Malley experience, some AMAZING, funny Irish musicians who played with traditional Irish river dance-style dancers. The concert was a blast, and the boys of our group tried (and almost succeeded) to dance with the ladies for a song! Irish music is full of anecdotes and history, and the stories behind the music are just as enjoyable as the music itself. They were so good that we demanded an encore, which I’m pretty sure is an American thing, and the last song was so raw that I shed a few tears. It was a culmination of everything that we’d been exposed to all day. Afterward, drinks at the pub, wandering around looking for good dancing, and one of the most intense moments of my experience in Belfast.
A new paragraph is necessary for this. Chris, Molly, and I were journeying home from the city centre to Elms Village, and three guys a little younger than us got off of a bench in front of city hall and tried to get Chris’s attention. Chris stopped to talk to them, and they surrounded him.
Guy: Hey, where are you from?
Chris: America
Guy: Oh, cool! Well, what were you doing tonight?
Chris: We were just having some drinks at the bar.
Guy: Oh, great! Which bar did you go to?
Chris: Uhhh, Dukes of York.
Guy: Great! Well, you can go on. Have a nice night!
It felt so much like these guys were really territorial and they were making sure that we went to the right places, had the right political allegiance, and they might have jumped Chris if he’d said something wrong. We took a taxi the rest of the way home and have ventured in only large groups ever since.
So that was my third night in Ireland, and we’re at night 7 or something, but I’m too tired to keep writing. We’re taking a coach to Dublin early in the morning, and Chelsea’s meeting me there. So excited!! To be continued…
Thursday, June 17, 2010
first few days
I’ve never walked into something so intense so quickly. Traveling to Belfast was uneventful, other than the chaos that is London-Heathrow airport. As soon as I got to Elms Village where we are staying, my professor (Marika… don’t tell her I told you that we’re on a first name basis in Ireland) told everyone that it was my birthday. It was at that moment that I remember getting swept away with this sense of community that I’m sure we’ll need to support each other through the rough spots of what we’re studying. Monday night was a blast, a lot of partying and shenanigans – a great way to spend the first night with people you will be with incessantly for a month.
Tuesday morning was early. Really fucking early. We had a meeting, and afterward, we went for a walk through the area we’re staying over to the museum that had an exhibit for the Troubles, as well as art, history, and fashion exhibits. Before coming to this program, we had to answer questions about events as they happened chronologically, from the time of the Protestants moving to Ireland until the recently history of peace. It was a systematic and comprehensive way to get the facts straight, that Republicans were typically Catholic for a Republic of Ireland, that Unionists were typically Protestant and wanting to be a part of the United Kingdom, that the IRA fought the UVF and the RUC, etc. When we went into the Troubles exhibit, you got a real feel for the chaos of the period as the exhibit was scattered around the room so that every time you turned your body, there was another wall of information and photographs. It was difficult to read everything and to be surrounded by photographs of the prison Long Kesh and the Royal Ulster Constabulary holding down riots. I believe that the layout of the museum was very deliberate because it isn’t a simple event in time, and there is still a lot of chaos where we are.
After the museum and lunch, we went on our first tour of Belfast on a bus led by the wonderful Martin. He showed us city hall where hundreds of people were laying in the grass, soaking up the sun, the birthplace of the Titanic (did you know it was built in Belfast?!), which is now a big hole in the ground, and Stormont, their parliament. The Stormont is absolutely grandiose, just stunning, but it has been historically open only the Nationalists who ran the government. It was at the Stormont that I had my first really emotional experience, the first of many to come, I’m sure. Martin is a Catholic and a Republican who was an IRA member, and he shared with us the story of his first entering Stormont after the Belfast Agreement was passed in 1998, telling us how difficult it was just to walk inside the building, tears streaming down his face. He talked of how difficult it is to shift from 30 years of hating and fighting to the last 10 years of working with Nationalists for peace and reform. With all the statues and symbols currently reflecting the Unionists at the Stormont, they are trying to add more statues and art that reflect the Republican presence in their government, trying to add community activities on the grounds to pull in and include different communities. I think it’s really noble and inexplicably difficult to rewrite your mental and emotional disposition after having it for over 40 years. Do you ever forgive? Do you ever forget? While we were standing in a smaller group, I asked Martin about whether schools are integrated or not, which led to a much more intimate discussion about how his family and he personally have been involved in the politics of Ireland. His family was educated in a Catholic school, though I believe he wants his children to have Protestant friends, and I know he wants his children to have very different experiences from his own. He showed us the scar on his arm from when he was shot, which naturally led everyone to gasp. A lot of his accounts were really difficult to follow and complicated in nature. When I looked into his eyes, they showed a pain almost tangible and still soft and sensitive, like the pain is still easily rubbed raw, the wound readily opened. I can’t imagine regularly giving tours and opening myself up to perfect strangers like that, subjecting myself to emotional trips like what Martin was obviously experiencing at that moment, but it seems like this city wears its emotions on its sleeve. This was the first really emotional moment I had in Belfast, but everyone we’ve talked to since then has shared the same sentiments, like talking about it is very therapeutic and there are still many overt wounds to be healed. When we left the bus, Martin shook my hand and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I felt a great connection with him, maybe just something I saw and felt in his eyes, and this short but sweet relationship has made me more prepared for all subsequent events on this trip.
Tuesday morning was early. Really fucking early. We had a meeting, and afterward, we went for a walk through the area we’re staying over to the museum that had an exhibit for the Troubles, as well as art, history, and fashion exhibits. Before coming to this program, we had to answer questions about events as they happened chronologically, from the time of the Protestants moving to Ireland until the recently history of peace. It was a systematic and comprehensive way to get the facts straight, that Republicans were typically Catholic for a Republic of Ireland, that Unionists were typically Protestant and wanting to be a part of the United Kingdom, that the IRA fought the UVF and the RUC, etc. When we went into the Troubles exhibit, you got a real feel for the chaos of the period as the exhibit was scattered around the room so that every time you turned your body, there was another wall of information and photographs. It was difficult to read everything and to be surrounded by photographs of the prison Long Kesh and the Royal Ulster Constabulary holding down riots. I believe that the layout of the museum was very deliberate because it isn’t a simple event in time, and there is still a lot of chaos where we are.
After the museum and lunch, we went on our first tour of Belfast on a bus led by the wonderful Martin. He showed us city hall where hundreds of people were laying in the grass, soaking up the sun, the birthplace of the Titanic (did you know it was built in Belfast?!), which is now a big hole in the ground, and Stormont, their parliament. The Stormont is absolutely grandiose, just stunning, but it has been historically open only the Nationalists who ran the government. It was at the Stormont that I had my first really emotional experience, the first of many to come, I’m sure. Martin is a Catholic and a Republican who was an IRA member, and he shared with us the story of his first entering Stormont after the Belfast Agreement was passed in 1998, telling us how difficult it was just to walk inside the building, tears streaming down his face. He talked of how difficult it is to shift from 30 years of hating and fighting to the last 10 years of working with Nationalists for peace and reform. With all the statues and symbols currently reflecting the Unionists at the Stormont, they are trying to add more statues and art that reflect the Republican presence in their government, trying to add community activities on the grounds to pull in and include different communities. I think it’s really noble and inexplicably difficult to rewrite your mental and emotional disposition after having it for over 40 years. Do you ever forgive? Do you ever forget? While we were standing in a smaller group, I asked Martin about whether schools are integrated or not, which led to a much more intimate discussion about how his family and he personally have been involved in the politics of Ireland. His family was educated in a Catholic school, though I believe he wants his children to have Protestant friends, and I know he wants his children to have very different experiences from his own. He showed us the scar on his arm from when he was shot, which naturally led everyone to gasp. A lot of his accounts were really difficult to follow and complicated in nature. When I looked into his eyes, they showed a pain almost tangible and still soft and sensitive, like the pain is still easily rubbed raw, the wound readily opened. I can’t imagine regularly giving tours and opening myself up to perfect strangers like that, subjecting myself to emotional trips like what Martin was obviously experiencing at that moment, but it seems like this city wears its emotions on its sleeve. This was the first really emotional moment I had in Belfast, but everyone we’ve talked to since then has shared the same sentiments, like talking about it is very therapeutic and there are still many overt wounds to be healed. When we left the bus, Martin shook my hand and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I felt a great connection with him, maybe just something I saw and felt in his eyes, and this short but sweet relationship has made me more prepared for all subsequent events on this trip.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
birthday!
birthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthdaybirthday! in sweden!
Birthday abroad
I've been gallivanting around Stockholm with Michael and Jennie for the last 5 days, and I've come to the conclusion that I'm not as in love with Stockholm as I thought I'd be. I miss bustling cities, loud, colorful people, and warm summers. I do love how clean and considerate the people seem to be (compared to Americans) and the many fruits of their successful socialist government, as well as Swedish meatballs :)
Michael and I walked around Gamla Stan, or Old Town, and had some drinks in a really neat underground-cellar-turned-into-coffee-shop and caught up for the first time in months. I had a berry citrus cactus smoothie there, one of two cactus drinks I've had in Stockholm, and I must profess my curiosity for them. They were both extremely refreshing and engendered a sense of summer, but I have no idea what cactus tastes like or its effect on me.
The other drink was a cactus lime cider that was slightly carbonated and slightly alcoholic, like a bacardi breezer, or whatever those drinks are. Anyway, it was awesome and REALLY green.
While we were walking on the old cobbled streets of Old Town, we encountered the best painting I've ever seen. The tacky tourist shops are littered with souvenirs with the Crown Princess and her betrothed posing for cheesy post-wedding photos. You can get a magnet with a thermometer, a mug, a small tray, Swedish crystal plates, even a wedding meal at IKEA in their honor. It's awful/wonderful. Anyway, I had to stop Michael in the middle of our stroll to reflect on this terrible-quality painting someone did of the princess and her fiancé riding a unicorn over the city of Stockholm. FTW! If I have time tomorrow, I'm going back to the shop to inquire as to the artist's information.
Other fun things in Stockholm include going to the Absolut Ice Bar, which seems to have been haphazardly built into the Nordic Sea Hotel, made out of Lapland ice. They serve you one Absolut cocktail in a glass made of ice, which is later used to maintain the cold atmosphere for the bar. Michael and Jennie loved it - well, Michael loved it - but it's not something I'd ever recommend to anyone. It's tiny and cold. We went to see a show at a nice venue located right off of the port called Debaser, featuring a Swedish band and a band from Sacramento. I don't recall the music too much, but I was so happy to be seeing a live show again. Yesterday, it was cold and rainy as we took the long hike to the largest IKEA in Europe (and probably the world) for some traditional Swedish meatballs covered in gravy and served with some lingon berry sauce (similar to cranberries) and potatoes. Oh, Jesus and Heaven in my mouth! I'm not going to lie, that was probably my favorite part of the trip.
When we got home, we made dinner and watched The Princess Diaries for some reason. We were watching the US-England futbol match while we were making dinner, and then the movie came on after the game and we were transfixed by the awful American view of European culture and small, quaint European countries. The movie was on in honor of the royal wedding, of course.
All of my down time has been dedicated to doing research before going to Ireland; I have had to learn the details of 400 years of political strife and civil unrest and consequently write 4 pages of information in a matter of a few days so that I could take a quiz before the program starts tomorrow. In fact, that's why I stayed home tonight while Jennie and Michael went to a Hirvasoya family celebration; I've finally taken the quiz and now I need to make sure that everything is in order before I travel to Ireland tomorrow. It's also my birthday at midnight, and I want to make myself a pie.
Tomorrow consists of mostly last-minute packing and a lot of traveling, so it's not really going to be much of a birthday. I've hit an emotional slump with being abroad and being away from home for so long. I didn't feel this way at all in Aalborg because it felt like I was coming home. We'll see how things change once I'm in Northern Ireland. It's going to be an emotional trip, given the nature of what we're studying. Prepare yourself, Dani.
Michael and I walked around Gamla Stan, or Old Town, and had some drinks in a really neat underground-cellar-turned-into-coffee-shop and caught up for the first time in months. I had a berry citrus cactus smoothie there, one of two cactus drinks I've had in Stockholm, and I must profess my curiosity for them. They were both extremely refreshing and engendered a sense of summer, but I have no idea what cactus tastes like or its effect on me.
The other drink was a cactus lime cider that was slightly carbonated and slightly alcoholic, like a bacardi breezer, or whatever those drinks are. Anyway, it was awesome and REALLY green.While we were walking on the old cobbled streets of Old Town, we encountered the best painting I've ever seen. The tacky tourist shops are littered with souvenirs with the Crown Princess and her betrothed posing for cheesy post-wedding photos. You can get a magnet with a thermometer, a mug, a small tray, Swedish crystal plates, even a wedding meal at IKEA in their honor. It's awful/wonderful. Anyway, I had to stop Michael in the middle of our stroll to reflect on this terrible-quality painting someone did of the princess and her fiancé riding a unicorn over the city of Stockholm. FTW! If I have time tomorrow, I'm going back to the shop to inquire as to the artist's information.
Other fun things in Stockholm include going to the Absolut Ice Bar, which seems to have been haphazardly built into the Nordic Sea Hotel, made out of Lapland ice. They serve you one Absolut cocktail in a glass made of ice, which is later used to maintain the cold atmosphere for the bar. Michael and Jennie loved it - well, Michael loved it - but it's not something I'd ever recommend to anyone. It's tiny and cold. We went to see a show at a nice venue located right off of the port called Debaser, featuring a Swedish band and a band from Sacramento. I don't recall the music too much, but I was so happy to be seeing a live show again. Yesterday, it was cold and rainy as we took the long hike to the largest IKEA in Europe (and probably the world) for some traditional Swedish meatballs covered in gravy and served with some lingon berry sauce (similar to cranberries) and potatoes. Oh, Jesus and Heaven in my mouth! I'm not going to lie, that was probably my favorite part of the trip.
When we got home, we made dinner and watched The Princess Diaries for some reason. We were watching the US-England futbol match while we were making dinner, and then the movie came on after the game and we were transfixed by the awful American view of European culture and small, quaint European countries. The movie was on in honor of the royal wedding, of course.
All of my down time has been dedicated to doing research before going to Ireland; I have had to learn the details of 400 years of political strife and civil unrest and consequently write 4 pages of information in a matter of a few days so that I could take a quiz before the program starts tomorrow. In fact, that's why I stayed home tonight while Jennie and Michael went to a Hirvasoya family celebration; I've finally taken the quiz and now I need to make sure that everything is in order before I travel to Ireland tomorrow. It's also my birthday at midnight, and I want to make myself a pie.
Tomorrow consists of mostly last-minute packing and a lot of traveling, so it's not really going to be much of a birthday. I've hit an emotional slump with being abroad and being away from home for so long. I didn't feel this way at all in Aalborg because it felt like I was coming home. We'll see how things change once I'm in Northern Ireland. It's going to be an emotional trip, given the nature of what we're studying. Prepare yourself, Dani.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Hej hej Danmark, Hej från Sverige!
My last full day in Aalborg was attending to business, closing my Danish bank account, trying to return my yellow card (my Danish ID as a part of my student visa), going to the post office, etc. Afterward, we had a big - and very cheap - dinner for 13 or so people which Dop helped me make. Unfortunately, I haven't taken any pictures since Løkken because I got sand in my lense... oof. It was definitely a night to document! It was just supposed to be dinner with frie
nds, hearing stories of Yasin's trip to Spain, and a celebration for Elisa, who turned in her thesis that night (Brava, Elisa!!!). It became a "Dani's going away, so let's get drunk and do karaoke" party, and Yasin brought a bottle of green anise poison from Mallorca. Oh goodness! Dance party and beer fight ensued. We tore it up until the early hours of the morning, and then woke up at 10 to make sure I packed and caught my (somewhat) early flight at noon. Bastien, Yasin, Laure, and Séverin took me to the airport, all of us in Séverin's tiny car with my giant suitcase. It was a really lovely goodbye, one of the best I've ever had, and I feel so connected to all of my friends, old and new, and my sweet "hyggelig" Danish home.Unfortunately, the flight from Copenhagen to Stockholm was excruciating because the high-elevation pressure didn't mix well with my sinus infection, and I was partially deaf out of my left ear for the rest of the day. All is well now, and Michael and Jennie are renting a really cute flat in student housing one or two blocks from the Natural Museum. We found out that on Sunday, the day before I leave, Jane Goodall will be giving a talk for only 90 krowns!! Michael was making fun of me because seeing the Natural Museum is one of my top priorities here. Me? A nerd? Not at all. I have a full transportation card for the time that I spend here, and I plan on seeing a lot of the city, which is very clean and organized (and very Scandinavian). Last night and this morning have been completely relaxed and calm, but tomorrow we're setting out early to take a trip and have a picnic in an archipelago. We're also going to the Absolut Ice Bar, which is a bar made entirely out of Lapland ice. Pretty cool... pun intended!
There's a Swedish royal wedding between the Crown Princess Victoria and her "frog kissed and transformed into a prince" boyfriend Prince Daniel, who was a fitness instructor turned into royalty. It's supposed to be the biggest European royal wedding since Prince Charles and Lady Di, so the city is in celebration mode. I've been invited to join the "celebration of love," a.k.a. Love Stockholm 2010. This is really sweet and cheesy and strangely appropriate, given my third-wheel status with the happily reunited couple I'm staying with. I believe this will be a nice time to visit Stockholm.
http://www.nordicseahotel.se/en/The-hotel/Food-and-drink/Absolut-Icebar-Stockholm/
http://www.examiner.com/x-/x-5821-International-Travel-Insights-Examiner~y2009m12d2-Celebrate-Swedens-royal-wedding-during-Love-Stockholm-2010-June-6th-to-20thwere-talkintravel
Sunday, June 6, 2010
The great gray country
Today marks the beginning of a week of shit gray weather in Denmark, which is crying because I leave so soon. I leave for the airport at noon on Tuesday to visit Michael and Jennie in Stockholm, and they've already settled in their new flat.
I didn't end up visiting Skagen as I had hoped, but am content nonetheless. Séverin came back while we were having a really nice bonfire at the AIK Friday night. We made smores and drank beer until 4am. The next morning, we went to the west coast to Løkken and Lønstrup for a little dip in the Baltic Sea. Jeebus, it's cold in the sea!!
Løkken is strange because all of the Danes drive onto the beach and sit in their cars, and very few go swimming (with good reason). I put my entire body into the water, against better judgment, with the attitude that any chance to live is worth taking. Now, I believe, I have prolonged this cold of mine. Even so, I think I would have regretted not getting in the water.
After being cold and wind-blown and hungry and thirsty, Bastien, Laure, Séverin, and I went to the store to buy food for lunch and then drove to the lighthouse at Lønstrup. The lighthouse was built 200m inland, but the sea levels rose and the strong winds have blown GIANT dunes around the lighthouse, covering a lot of it. When you drive up to Lønstrup, it looks like you're approaching a desert. You climb to the top of the dunes and overlook the rolling hills and forests on one side, and the turquoise Baltic Sea on the other. It's surreal. I've never seen anything like it. I feel very complete with my trip to Denmark now that I've been to the sea as well as the local viking graveyard. It was a reminder of my love for Denmark.
Tomorrow is my last full day in Aalborg, and I have business to attend to instead of more playing. Besides removing myself completely from Denmark, I have research to do on Ireland for my program. I am choosing not to do any homework or work while I'm in Sweden, so tomorrow will be a busy day. Fortunately, the gray weather doesn't tempt me to do anything else.
I didn't end up visiting Skagen as I had hoped, but am content nonetheless. Séverin came back while we were having a really nice bonfire at the AIK Friday night. We made smores and drank beer until 4am. The next morning, we went to the west coast to Løkken and Lønstrup for a little dip in the Baltic Sea. Jeebus, it's cold in the sea!!
Løkken is strange because all of the Danes drive onto the beach and sit in their cars, and very few go swimming (with good reason). I put my entire body into the water, against better judgment, with the attitude that any chance to live is worth taking. Now, I believe, I have prolonged this cold of mine. Even so, I think I would have regretted not getting in the water.
After being cold and wind-blown and hungry and thirsty, Bastien, Laure, Séverin, and I went to the store to buy food for lunch and then drove to the lighthouse at Lønstrup. The lighthouse was built 200m inland, but the sea levels rose and the strong winds have blown GIANT dunes around the lighthouse, covering a lot of it. When you drive up to Lønstrup, it looks like you're approaching a desert. You climb to the top of the dunes and overlook the rolling hills and forests on one side, and the turquoise Baltic Sea on the other. It's surreal. I've never seen anything like it. I feel very complete with my trip to Denmark now that I've been to the sea as well as the local viking graveyard. It was a reminder of my love for Denmark.Tomorrow is my last full day in Aalborg, and I have business to attend to instead of more playing. Besides removing myself completely from Denmark, I have research to do on Ireland for my program. I am choosing not to do any homework or work while I'm in Sweden, so tomorrow will be a busy day. Fortunately, the gray weather doesn't tempt me to do anything else.
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