The Observer, December 8, 2006
Volume XXXIX, Issue 13
An American Abroad: Experience in Ireland unforgettable
I am standing on Inis Mor taking a picture of a horse. Yes, I am being the consummate urban tourist. I just cannot believe the overt Irish stereotype before me. I am engulfed by lone stone ruins of castles, forts, and churches. They are abandoned and crumbling. Almost everything on Inis Mor is crumbling. The sea is feet away, and I can see the outlines of the other Aran islands: Inis Man and Inis Mean.
One comes to Ireland with lots of preconceptions. The Irish are talkative; they drink a lot, dance, play music, and are pious. Visiting a place that you have always heard a lot about is strange. All you know is secondhand. I have been experiencing that all semester in England, and now I am ready for Ireland.
Since I was a child, I had heard, sung and read about Ireland. Reading How the Irish Saved Civilization, watching all of the History Channel's documentaries on the Famine every St. Patrick's Day, and singing "O Danny Boy" with my family made me see Ireland as some holy, fantasy land. Obviously it was nothing of the sort, but I could definitely see why such a myth was created.
Western Ireland is overflowing with an unearthly beauty. The scenes that I witnessed cannot be caught by any calendar or postcard. Standing in the Connemara Valley, you are surrounded by Stone henge-like ruins. There are slabs of granite and limestone everywhere. Most of them were used to create fences by long-gone farmers. In these abandoned fields are loose horses, ponies, and hundreds of sheep.
Everyone knows the same songs. Walking down the street, a musician is playing "The Strawberry Fields," and a man sings it with him as he passes by. Down the street is a crowded traditional pub that I went to every night. It is filled with alcohol, smoke, fiddles, and guitars. Everyone's feet are banging against the floor to the beat, lips mouthing the lyrics, pints in hands. I do the same, but with a pint of Coca-Cola.
Irish culture is very similar to American culture. Surprisingly, American culture is a lot more like Irish culture than English culture. Of course, a tourist's high comfort level may merely be because of the extreme friendliness that they will encounter. "Welcome to Ireland" was the first thing a native said to me. Never in my life had I been surrounded by such kindness, manners, and good-will. These people would gladly give you the shirt off of their back, and then sing a song about it.
Obviously though the differences between Galway City and London are huge. It is understandable why they have never gotten along. They are such polar opposites of one another. The Irish are so free, open, and unpretentious. Here, I can smile at strangers on the street without scaring them, I can pet other people's dogs, and people actually want me to tell them about myself.
There are some cultural gender differences as well. Irish men are extremely respectful towards women. This was refreshing after some of my experiences in London. While I was there, doors were held, eyes were lowered, and I was never bothered once despite being by myself.
My whole trip to Galway might as well have been off of the GoIreland.com commercials. No, I did not run along a beach with horses, but what I did experience was just as good. What I had heard about Ireland did not do it justice at all.
Frankly, there is reality to all of the Ireland/Irish stereotypes. Yes, it is very green, yes, the Irish are friendly, yes, Ireland is beautiful, and yes, pubs are extremely important socially. However, it is so much more than the images that these stereotypes conjure up. You have to see the real thing. All I can say is that I have to go back, and I cannot wait until I do.
