July 13th– Dublin & Halfin’.
Welcome to Dublin! What experience stands out the most? How is Dublin similar or different from Belfast?
I spent a few days in Dublin prior to meeting my iEi group; I adored the city. Dublin has a bustling, cosmopolitan energy. It encourages a consumer-centric lifestyle and is, unfortunately, a hotspot for tourists. I met a handful of Americans my time traveling alone and this made me feel comfortable.
While Dublin is the capital of the Republic of Ireland, I feel it is necessary to consider its authenticity// “Irish-ness.” Dublin defies the typical “small town” image of Ireland. Especially with its obnoxious gift shops, “Carrol’s.” These stores are packed wall-to-wall with symbols of “Irish-ness:” sheep, leprechauns, clovers, and the like, all adorned in green. They’re exploited to appeal to tourists. Many of these signals are at the crux of Irish history and are icons for a reason. However, this meaning is forgotten (ignored?) as visitor interests take precedence.
My experience of hot people watching with Chris and James at St. Stephen’s Green stands out the most. Dublin is FILLED with beautiful people.
Belfast has a similar city aura, without the international patrons and bustling tourism. Belfast had H&M and Forever 21, like Dublin, but the walls were an overbearing presence. The city’s history looms.
July 12th– The True True.
Consider Faith Healer. Is anyone telling the truth? What makes you say that?
Faith Healer didn’t appeal to me. I was thinking about hanging out with my friends and making a peanut butter&banana sandwich the entire time. So, allow me to examine ideologies of truth that the text touches.
Faith Healer is unique in its format. The play is presented in four acts, each being a monologue account of similar events from three different characters. The idea of “truth” is questioned. Truth is present in each telling; truth is relative. My Dad has often impressed upon me the value of perspective. His fascination with people, their histories, and their truths has played a significant role in my coming to cherish relationships and individual stories. He encourages asking “why” of others, facilitating a dialogue with the goal of reaching a heightened understanding//appreciation of differences in perception.
SO. Everyone in Faith Healer is telling the truth, since truth is a relative concept. But, why is this important? In this case, why does the “truth” need to be revealed?
July 11th– Conor is 18.
Read a Northern Irish newspaper and blog about an article.
While thumbing through “The Armagh Observer,” I notice a substantial difference between this publication and my local “Joliet Herald News:” the material features Armagh in a positive light. My paper is littered with tragedy, while the Armagh Observer focusses on community events and the citizens’ successes.
“18th Birthday Party for Conor” was a photo montage of Conor’s party. The title inspired my absurd short story.
Conor woke up from bed the morning of his 18th birthday. He tore his dinosaur covers from his body onto the floor and thought to himself, “I’m 18! I don’t need these anymore!” Conor’s mother knocked on the door, sweetly crooning “Happy Birthday” to her son. Conor opened the door and his shit was EVERYWHERE. Teddy bears, on the floor, clothes in lifeless piles on the floor, school pictures were torn to shreds. Conor’s Mother raised her eyebrows. “Is this the best you can do son?” She then proceeded to tear down his wallpaper, flip over his red furniture and dismantle his trophy case and left. Conor was taken aback. He shrunk himself into a corner, agape at the destruction. His racecar bed. His dinosaur sheets. She even ruined his Orange Dragon Soccer Most Improved Player Award he earned when he was 5. Conor burst into warm, gooey crocodile tears. Chocolate chips began to emerge from his tear ducts. His hands got so full and the chocolates spilled on to the floor. He cried because of his room. He cried because of the overabundance of candies. He cried because Karlie LoDolce rejected him last week at the school dance. Conor wept. Conor swept. But then beneath his rug got too full of chocolate chips and he didn’t know what to do. “Hold yourself together, brah.” Conor reassured himself in the mirror, “You’re eighteen now.” He began making “tough-guy” faces with his reflection and calmed down. He inhaled stress and exhaled success. Conor turned around and faced his challenge. He climbed around the chocolate chip mountains and destruction, reassembling furniture, restocking his closet, and making chocolate chip cookies for his friends. When he was finished, his room emitted a pristine sparkle. He glanced at his phone, 11:53pm. “Happy birthday to me,” whispered Conor as he resumed his place on his bean bag and sunk into a sleepy stupor.
