Thursday, February 27, 2014

Research, Rugby, and Other Assorted Random Ramblings (starting with 'R')

This week started off like every other week of my life: with grand ambitions of Being Productive. I don't just mean short-term productive, as in Do Your Homework. I mean, Revolutionize Your Study Habits productive...Become a Better Person productive...Start Planning Your Future productive. And like every other week, my lofty ambitions didn't go as planned. Looking back, however, a lot of important things did happen this week.

I started it off--if you can call Sunday the start--with a day trip to Waterford. Two friends and I caught the noon:40 bus from Cork's main bus station and two hours later arrived in Waterford. It isn't a huge city, but has the 5th largest population in Ireland. It is also apparently Ireland's oldest city. Founded by Vikings, Waterford contains plenty of historic sites to visit. As we had very limited time, we chose to go to the old Viking Reginald's Tower, which is now a sort of Viking museum containing various artifacts of the time and a presentation covering the history of the city based from the history of the Tower. I particularly liked learning the general history of the entire city, as it is somewhat similar to Cork's. And guess who's in the process of busting out an essay on the archaeology of Early Medieval Cork? I was digging the connections. 



Unfortunately, by the time we were done in the Tower, the supposedly excellent Medieval Museum was closed. So we booked it through the pouring rain into a nearby cathedral. Cathedrals are generally spectacular fun for the architecture. That you will feel like a puny little human as soon as you enter is a given. What took me off guard in this cathedral were the ornaments hanging from the ceiling: chandeliers of Waterford crystal. I don't know much about crystal. In fact, "yeah, whatever" probably best sums up my feelings towards it. I don't think it's particularly beautiful. But people like to make a big deal about Waterford crystal: it is highly advertised and probably the main way in which the city differentiates itself. Not by its "oldest city in Ireland" status, or museum, or intense history of Vikings and uprisings and plague. By its crystal. I suppose people come for the crystal and stay for the history. Or maybe just to conduct photo shoots in the sweet Viking stand-ups about the historic center. Hey, to each their own....




(Obviously I am better husband material.)

Sunday past and with little work completed on my archaeology paper, I awoke Monday morning with fierce determination to finish my paper THIS week. That result remains to be seen. I did, however, spend a good chunk of time on Monday and Tuesday in the Special Collections and Archives center of the library researching. That was quite the experience, especially when one considers that this is really the first time Wymana has taken liberal arts courses. First, I had hardly any idea what to expect, or how to access the Special Collections, or where it was. I found it in a quiet corner of the basement, a moderate room fronted by an office and row of cubbies. This corner did not remain quiet for long, as Wymana obviously had no idea what she was doing and could not understand half of what the librarian at the counter was telling her. This can be attributed to two factors: a heavy Irish accent and uncommonly forceful speech not unlike yelling. Regardless, it all worked out in the end. I had to lock up everything that was not a laptop, notebook, and pencil (pens and laptop cases are not allowed). And when I finally entered the room...access to crazy old books dating to the early 1800s, falling apart. It was intense--not only handling the books, but also the study atmosphere. There's something about the Special Collections and Archives center that makes Facebook an extremely guilty study break. Which meant that my study density was incredibly high...when I wasn't trying to hide my computer screen.

Despite these two events, probably the defining factor of my week was and is the stress: everything is due around the same time, and that due date is really not too far off. I have quite a bit of work to do in terms of reading, writing papers, and studying for exams. 

In addition to schoolwork, I was also concerned with finalising plans for this summer and for the upcoming school year. On Wednesday, I interviewed for a job for next year through OSU's College of Engineering. The interview was conducted over Skype, something that I was worried about because I could imagine about 10 different technology-related disasters to go with a Skype call. My computer might freeze, or automatically shut off, or Windows might not boot, or Windows might boot but crash, or Skype might crash, or something might decide to update (yes you, Windows), or the internet connection might give out. All of which happen regularly. Luckily, none of these things happened and the interview was technologically successful. I was very lucky to have a friend who lent me her room and internet connection at another UCC dorm, since the internet connection at my apartment is not strong enough to simultaneously support video and audio streaming through Skype. And as if that wasn't cool enough, she hiked with me afterwards IN THE RAIN to the nearby Centra grocery so I could find some discount ice cream. It was wonderful.

Interesting fact: I have not yet come across froyo and ice cream isn't super easy to find outside the main grocery stores. Chocolate and caramel and candy bar squares, however, occur in very large quantities.

Most recently, I attended a girl's rugby match against UCC's rival, CIT (Cork Institute of Technology) this evening. My friend is on the team and I had my camera ready for some hardcore proud-parenting. Let's just say I will be a little more cautious next time I bother her about the spider haunting her bedroom, most likely the closet.


There were some pretty intense tackles. (Also: note that every member on each team is wearing a prom dress. This was a special event game to help raise donations to charity.)

Thursday, February 20, 2014

Wymana Meets R & G Week

When I was getting ready to leave for UCC, one of my friends came up to me and said, "You are going to come back so buff." And I replied, "?......????.....What?" Have you seen my lifting ability? No? That's probably because it doesn't exist. However, let us consider yesterday:

I WENT TO THE GYM. A friend *dragged* me to UCC's Mardyke (much like OSU's Dixon) Tuesday afternoon, and plans to do so every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from now on. After accidentally setting off the Mardyke's "Unaccounted-For Visitor" alarm and a number of unsuccessful squat-turned butt-plants, I am successfully on my way to returning...buff.

Needless to say, I was the world's biggest grandma getting out of bed this morning. Everything felt stiff and sore. What I lacked in eloquence of movement, I made up for in grumbling. But in truth, I enjoyed my time at the Mardyke quite a lot.

Which doesn't really bring me to my next point, but here it is: This week is R & G week at UCC. That means that while I am happily sitting inside, cup of tea in hand, writing INCREDIBLY FASCINATING blog posts, most other people are out getting drunk for charity. R & G stands for Raise and Give. This week is a huge deal for UCC. Essentially, all the clubs and societies host activities to raise money for charity. The Physics and Astronomy Society hosts Zombie Outbreak, UCC's version of Humans vs. Zombies. Top 40 music blasts at the campus Old Bar (yeah, there are 2 bars on campus) from morning until night. And parties are brewing by 6 pm on College Road, which runs adjacent to campus. It's a crazy week to be out. Trying to get down College Road Monday night at 6 was like playing Frogger: College Edition. Sidestep very evidently inebriated bro stumbling down sidewalk. Dodge large group of 4-inch hot pink stilettos. Look up and see arms brandishing beer bottles out second story windows. Take evasive action and decide to avoid sidewalk. Though the official goal of the week is to earn as much money as possible for that special cause, it's secondary association is as an excuse to show up to class with a bad hangover. In sum, R & G week makes Thirsty Thursdays look like middle school.

I spent the evening discussing pop culture literature at the UCC Chaplaincy book group. It was wonderful.

However, it is possible that my silent monologue may be cut short in a few minutes by friends determined to go for a pint and some nightlife downtown.

With that in mind, I regurgitate this concluding bit of advice in the knowledge that this may be my last entry (and also because I recently re-watched some Firefly):

That Special Level of Hell: A place reserved for child molesters and people who don't replace the empty toilet paper roll on the bathroom dispenser.

Go raibh maith agat. Oiche mhaith agus go n-eiri leat.

Friday, February 14, 2014

La Fheile Vailintin

La Fheile Vailintin sona dhuit!

One of the most wonderful things about language courses is that they make a big deal out of the holidays. As a result, I now have several handy Valentine's Day-themed phrases to bust out at the nightclubs downtown...or maybe I will just harass friends with Gaelic love notes "from Gollum," who happens to be a major flirt.

A ghra mo chroi, preciousss.

No hopes dashed though, since we all know his true affections lie dissolved in the fires of Mount Doom. That aside, I hope everyone has a wonderful Valentine's Day. I think of Valentine's Day as a sort of pseudo-Thanksgiving, and I just want to give a shout out to all the wonderful people back home and in Ireland that I have the fortune to know. Thank you guys for making my day, every day. I love you all.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Cooking, An Aimsir, and Other Fearsome Things: Part 2

So all UCC events are cancelled from 3 pm on owing to the terrible weather. What does that mean?

Time to heat things up with a little help from my badass cooking skillz.

I had grand ambitions to make stew. I had equally grand ambitions to finish making my sweet potato casserole. Both take about 1.5 hours worth of combined cooking and prep time. Well, I like to think that I have a lot of patience. I'm like an earthquake in that I can take a lot of pressure until I unexpectedly blow up. Not so when it comes to anything food related. Give me a frying pan, a bit of thawed meat, and any vegetable...and I can whip you (but mostly me) up a delicious stir-fry in under 20 minutes. I'm not really into the delayed gratification thing. A pot for stewing and an oven for baking leads to dreams of doing--which I'm great at forsaking. But I'd been talking about the stew, and the casserole, and I was excited. Full steam ahead, I was going for it.

What ensued was the epitome of the common 'struggle bus'.

It was truly terrible. I was so excited to jump right into the stew that I forgot the key commandment from A Dummy's Guide to Cooking With Meat. Step 1: Defrost the meat. Oops. I remove my diced beef from the freezer, and, low and behold, it is a stiff block that would probably shatter if I dropped it. I try breaking it up via stabbing by kitchen knife. Beef does not budge. The only way I see this ending is badly, so I drop the idea with the knife and go stare at my computer screen like it will magically tell me what to do. All praise to The Google? Not so. I decide I'll put the stubborn meat back in the fridge and make the stew on Saturday. The most painful part of this decision is knowing that I got the meat yesterday and for some reason stuffed it in the freezer instead of the fridge. (What was that flutter at my ear? Could it be...common sense? Ah no, probably just that dumb fly, following me around like a piece of rotting fruit).

Dreams of stewed goodness dashed and mind in disarray, wymana desperately tries to salvage the afternoon by resorting to Plan B: Casserole. Wayward flour blots out the counter, interspersed with orange droplets of mashed sweet potato that look like I gave the kitchen some exotic strain of chicken pox. Clean, organized cooking practices? Please. When this girl goes cooking, it's go big or go home. (And we all know that she is a neurotic neat-freak, in which case she will do a bang-up job cleaning the kitchen afterwards following the same philosophy). And thus it follows. She beats those eggs, she crushes those walnuts in her bare fist, she accidentally uses up the rest of the communal butter (that's a lot of butter...damn). By the time I'm pouring the mixture into the pan, the counter is a mess and my roommates are giving the stove a wide berth. They come in with amused but apprehensive looks, asking how it's going. I have no idea what I am doing! In principle, I do. But it's a catchy theme from last term and sums up my flustered state perfectly. I realize that I am talking to myself when one comes in and gives me a strange look. You all right? Yep...sniffle...I just put it in the oven. Oh, I say. Yeah, I have a cold...I'm not actually overcome with emotion at my cooking endeavours. I think I've probably looked on the brink of tears all day due to sinus congestion.

Oven pre-heated, timer set, Energy Level +5000 playlist queued, cleaning targets acquired. The kitchen looks spotless by the time I'm done busting moves to the Step Up soundtrack.

The casserole is a delicious-looking bar of gold when the timer goes off. One apprehensive bite morphs into dinner. I savor it to the El Dorado theme song. And as of one hour ago, I don't have food poisoning. Which is a major plus, considering I may have seen a bit of red in the egg. But come to think about it, that might have just been the dye off the shell I dropped in.

Cooking, An Aimsir, and Other Fearsome Things: Part 1

Today began like the most typical of days. I woke up at 8 am, not by my alarm clock but because I had to pee. I lay in bed for half an hour, no intention of leaving, enjoying the merciful warmth provided by my comforter and two wool blankets. To avoid paying extra electricity expenses at the end of the term, our apartment (meaning the collective 6 people living in it) rarely turn the heater on. To enter the kitchen one must first acquire a hat, a scarf, and some hard-core layering skills. So I put off getting up for awhile, choosing to listen to the fascinating gusting noises coming from near my window. Wind? Rain? My grumpy heater vent? Or just sleep deprivation? In Ireland, you can't really tell. Frankly, grumpy wymana didn't care--she figured that by this point she was probably seasoned to handle any horrible Irish weather the gods could throw her way. But as per usual, the gods had different ideas. Wymana lazily bats her curtains aside to check the sky. Grey. Deceptively unassuming.

It is very fortunate that my Gaelic class currently happens to be covering the weather unit. I have a lot to say about the weather this week and I also have some vocab to study for tomorrow's quiz. In such a case, I do not feel guilty at all about a weather rant. So, with the help of a well-loved workbook and a shaky memory, here it is in all its glory:

An Luan: Ta an ghrian ag taitneamh. Ta se tirim, ta an aimsir go deas beaganin. The first beautiful day I think I've experienced in Ireland, so far. I could feel the Vitamin D soaking into my skin, the instant happy. The hills were alive. Spring in the weather, in my mood, and in my step.

An Mhairt: Ta se an-fhuar, ta se ag cur baisti, agus ta se ag cur sneachta. More like slushing, actually. Whatever is falling from the sky has to be as wet as possible. Grumpy wymana returns from her long grocery adventuring looking an-fhliuch. With a little extra dose of grumpy.

Agus....

Inniu: Ta an aimsir go hannais ar fad, ar fad. Ta se an-ghaofar (with gusts up to 150 km/h), ta se ag cur baisti, agus ta se an-fhuar. Think yesterday was bad? Today just blew it out of the water.

It was so bad that they actually cancelled all classes from 3 pm on. Too bad my last class ended at 3. I did some pretty hard-core adventuring to get there. The deal was the wind: on several occasions, it was blowing so hard that one could not move forward. Trees were down, power lines were down, trucks were down. Celtic Mythology ended at 1 pm, the power flickering throughout the entire hour. Walking back, I was ushered into the West Wing of the Main Quad and out of the open by a security official. Apparently slate was flying off the West Wing roof. Five minutes later, I watched a tree crack and fall in the parking lot. A little ways towards my next class, a huge tree had cracked and taken down a power line (and half of the power line's pole). I squeezed past the broken trunk, then did some intense Indiana Jones-style tree-hugging to avoid the completely flooded sidewalk. By 3 pm, UCC was telling faculty and students not to leave the buildings they were in. Well, by about 3:20 pm I'd missed all of the notifications and was back at my apartment, curled up in a warm pair of sweatpants with my emergency jar of shock nutella and a box of tissues.

2014 could perhaps be the beginning of the apocalypse.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Archaeology Field Trip to West Cork

Last weekend my archaeology class had a field trip out to West Cork. Because the class is so large, our professor divided us into two groups based on last name. Well, initially this was a huge disappointment. It somehow turns out that almost everyone I've met at UCC happens to have a last name between A and N. Except, obviously, myself. So I was like, alright, great, flying solo, we can work with this--you just need to activate a little social know-how (Social know-how? Even in the future nothing works) and it will turn out alright. So I got on the bus, and sat down next to the window, and fully expected to fall asleep on our way to the first destination. Except I didn't. I ended up talking to other students for the entirety of the bus rides there and back, and met some really nice people. And it was great.

The first place we visited was Garranes Ringfort. This was a potentially royal ringfort with pottery dating back to the 5th - 7th centuries. It has quite a few trenches. Also, it's just hanging out in the middle of a farmer's field. For a long time, farmers where hesitant to work fields around ringfort ruins for fear of disturbing the fairy folk thought to make their homes in the mounds.



The second place was Ballinacarriga Tower House, supposedly older than its 1585 date. It's got what was probably a Catholic chapel on the top floor--probably on the top floor because the practice of Catholicism was outlawed to make way for Protestantism at the time. Which didn't work out so well. Currently, Ireland is around 85% Catholic.



Below: View from the top floor of the tower house.


Below: Look carefully at the stone and you will see the sculptures. In the second, there are representations of the Crucifixion and the Instruments of the Passion.




The third place we visited was Coppinger's Court. It was a 4-story house built in 1616 and is in the process of falling down. To get there, we slogged through several mud puddles in a farm field and jumped an electric fence. Our professor just stands next to it and goes, oh yeah, well that's live, so...be careful. And we all felt somewhat adventurous. The cows watched our muddy splashing with amusement. 

Though there were no restrictions on where the cows could wander, all students had to stay at least a gable's length from the house. Well, this rebel was up close before our professor got there to tell us to stay away, but he was very adamant that the house was very dangerous and we were NOT to go inside. That said, he then tell us he's going to check out the newly-fallen chimney that was still standing this past fall. And wanders inside. Um, I'll meet you back at the bus, he says. Indiana Jones has spoken.




Our last stop was to the Drombeg Stone Circle and nearby fulacht fiadh. The fulacht fiadh was probably a place where the ancient Irish cooked large portions of meat in a water-filled trench using heated stones.

The fulacht fiadh:
\

The stone circle:



It is possible that, in more recent history, the stone circle was sometimes used as a site of Catholic mass. Many masses were held out in the country when Catholicism was outlawed in favor of Protestantism.

Madam Rosmerta

I'm a pretty big Harry Potter nerd. Don't bust out the trivia on me, because I'd probably do awful. But just because I don't remember every fantastic little detail doesn't mean that my mind isn't partitioned into a Hogwarts side and a real world side (much like my computer). That said, I discovered a fun Harry Potter fact in class this week...in Celtic Religion and Mythology, no less:

In order to claim valid kingship in old Ireland, kings had to fulfill several tests. One of these was to undergo a "sacred marriage." Basically, the king had to take a woman as a consort. This woman symbolized the goddess figure and the sovereignty of Ireland. She was also heavily associated with the role of Pouring Drink. Lug, the most important god for the old Irish, had a consort named Rosmerta. Together, they fulfill the above roles.

Now consider Madam Rosmerta from Harry Potter and how she runs a pub.

Bam.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Bustin' the Moves in Blarney

Every Tuesday evening, the instructor for my step and set dancing classes organizes a group of students to attend a trad music session in the neighbouring town of Blarney. And every first Tuesday of the month, this Blarney pub that hosts the music session also hosts a variety show. Singing, dancing, storytelling, and free food: what could make it better?

Let me tell you.

1. A couple weeks back, I discovered that my dance instructor toured with Riverdance. Not surprisingly, our jaws all drop to watch her dance. I wonder how her feet do not get tangled. Well, not only can she rock the step dance, but she can also rock the fiddle...while simultaneously rocking the step dance.

2. My friend was adamant that she would not dance. First thing that evening, the host has everyone stand up and form two circles. I and another friend drag Adamantly Not Going to Dance into the circle. She is shooting us apprehensive glares when the host tells us not to worry, it's an easy dance, and starts the music. I'm all ready for some exotic stepping. Nope. The Hokey Pokey is what it's all about. Never has such a group had so much fun.

3. Traditional Irish music.

4. Line dancing. Even when 4/5 of the dance floor does not know the line dance.

5. Dancing the complete reel learned in step class: for an audience. Armed with my purple Converse, rusty memory, and fellow classmates to either side, I was determined to go for it. We did the reel twice: the first was a lot of bunny hopping, accidental swearing, and talking to myself. The second went much better.

We stayed in Blarney until after midnight. Based on this girl's track record, you'd think she'd be done and scheduling extended nap time by that point. Not so. After dozing off in the van back to Cork (and waking up to briefly wonder whether she was on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland--driving is that intense), wymana agreed to an impromptu belly dance session with two friends.

Belly dance is very much about the hips. This presents a small problem: What are these hips you speak of? I have to move them? Based on previous line dance experiences (namely the Cupid Shuffle), I didn't expect too much from myself. In fact, I was just like, this ain't gonna work. But the belly dance session was a lot of fun and I'm so glad I tried it.The next morning, muscles I never even knew existed were sore. Hips really don't lie.

Flooded With Adventure

Between spectacular weather events, class field trips, and trad session outings to Blarney, much has happened in the past week.

Some of you have heard that Ireland has experienced a bit of flooding recently. With high tides, high winds, and high amounts of rain, that is very true. Cork is essentially an island in the middle of a river, and it was no exception:

Tuesday evening at quarter to six pm, I began my lengthy trek to the Western Gateway building for a late 6-8 pm Irish history class. Normally, I encounter at least a few other visiting students along my journey, but it was not so this day. I plodded across the bridge on my own, the wind blowing my foot into my leg every time I picked it up. An interesting development. Then I arrived in class. Only about half the usual number of students were there and my professor had an American accent. What? Now, wymana had just woken up from a long nap and was feeling very disoriented and knew that she had very evidently missed some important message:

Officials predicted flooding for 9 pm that evening at high tide. Get yourselves some canned food and your valuables off the ground, my professor suggested. Be safe, stay away from the bridges. But he was totally relaxed. Hm, I thought. My apartment is literally 6 meters away from a rushing stream, on the ground floor. But our professor is relaxed, and everybody else seems relaxed...therefore I should be relaxed. Jump on the bandwagon, missy. I walked back to my apartment wondering if I should make my Bottom-Shelf Food Stash a Top-Shelf Food Stash. Digestive biscuits dunked in flood water would make for a very tragic tea date indeed. According to a roomate, our apartment complex flooded back in 2010 and had to be evacuated.

My apartment wasn't affected, although downtown Cork got hit fairly hard. Oliver Plunkett Street, one of Cork's main shopping streets, was completely submerged. The next morning, I heard about shopping kayakers. Kayakers visiting the ATM. Kayakers purchasing a pint. The Irish know their priorities.

In general, people seemed super relaxed about it. Que sera, sera.

This is a fairly good depiction:

http://www.thejournal.ie/cork-kayakers-floods-1300564-Feb2014/

And a few more pictures:

http://www.breakingnews.ie/ireland/cork-city-and-towns-hit-by-heavy-flooding-621770.html