Paddy's Day

I would be remiss if I didn't write about my experience of Ireland's pseudo-national-holiday, St. Patrick's Day. Famous for ridding Ireland of snakes, St. Patrick, I learned, was probably actually from Wales. I can't hold this against him, since I am very fond of Cymru, but I have still not been able to figure out exactly why St. Patrick has made his name as the patron saint of kelley green and public drunkenness. Given the level of celebration associated with this holiday, I can only assume that Irish people REALLY hate snakes. Having experienced this holiday last on a college campus, I was surprised by the similarities between that... academic... celebration and the one that took over Dublin yesterday.

The first similarity was the sudden proliferation of Americans- I heard more American accents than Irish ones (althought many of the Americans were trying (in vain) to imitate Irish accents). I was warned by all my Irish friends to WHATEVER YOU DO avoid the center of town AT ANY COST. Of course, I flouted what turned out to be their very sound advice, eager to experience a real, Irish Paddy's Day, and perhaps to get my face on the Today Show, which was filming at Dublin Castle. By the time I got into town, however, the filming was over, and the drunks were ubiquitous. Deciding to make the best of my arduous journey, I made my way through the sea of green to Leo Burdock's, my favorite chipper. (In my near-year here, I have found that there is little that can't be salvaged by eating a battered sausage...) Of course, the queue was enormous, so I found myself (and my token Irish guide, Dara) waiting outside the tiny chipper with about 30 other hungry revelers.

I was happy enough to get my battered sausage, because while we were waiting a fight broke out between some teenage scumbags, who, fueled by alcohol, seemed to be having a game of 'throw glass bottles at one another as hard as possible'. A few were bleeding by the time they broke a window and the Gardai came to arrest them, at which point we left the Christchurch area and headed back towards the quieter suburbs. All businesses were closed, as Paddy's Day is a bank holiday here in Ireland (more on the amazing number of days I get off from work for religious holidays when we get closer to Easter), so the streets were full of celebrators, most of whom seemed to be staying in town after the parade in the morning.

Once getting home, I spent the rest of the evening tasting various Irish beverages (I still prefer Bulmer's cider to Guinness), but as the lads (who have requested a blog shout out, and may yet get their own post) were out, I called it an early night. I did, however, sleep in my bright green shamrock shirt, in homage to the snake-free island.