Troubled Man in the Land of Troubles: Summer 2023 Abroad in Ireland

All of the good things in life -- events, moments, trips, even relationships -- inevitably end, and I admit that I was disheartened to know the good times incurred on this trip would be over as I now have to endure a week longer in Ireland with my parents. (While my parents coming here wasn't necessarily a bad thing, I knew that towards the end of my study-abroad trip I wanted to go back home.) When I finally committed to the trip to Ireland, I had not a slight clue on what I was getting into, but in looking back at my trip, I can definitively say that the trip flew by. It honestly feels like just yesterday we took the introductory walking tour through Dublin with Lorcan Collins. But isn't that the point of any brand-new experience -- to enjoy your time with the people you don't always know (or like) even when in a totally new environment? This exact feeling is why I did commit to this trip. I was tired of feeling like I wasn't broadening out my horizons on my outlook t...

What's a home away from home? Well, for this 21-year-old Wisconsinite on the trek to Ireland, a pub -- any pub, really -- is certainly a good start. Throughout my trip to Ireland, I have transformed into a fish in the proficiency and resiliency I have become with my drinking exploits, of which were frequent, cathartic, and an opportunity to take the backpack off my shoulders (sometimes quite literally) and relax for a bit. While I have no cause for concern that this extended episode of frequent drinks and pints at some of Ireland's most established pubs will translate into a problem of some sorts with my alcohol intake, I will admit that I had never consumed this much alcohol in a month-long period. But nonetheless, when I have ever felt down and out with the world in my time in Ireland, there was always a pub waiting for me, a pint waiting for me, a bartender waiting for me, and hopefully a friend waiting for me. To me, for these reasons, a pub is not just an establishment for...

The period of the Irish revolutionaries -- fighting justly for republicanism in early 20th-century Ireland -- is looked upon retrospectively in Ireland as being philosophically akin to past successful revolutions worldwide such as the French Revolution or even the American Revolution. In fact, all three revolutions (or periods, as it is to be known in Ireland) share similar structures: tyrannical oppressors and their tyrannical actions lead distressed subjects to revolt against unruly kingdoms not just to change leadership, but essentially to send in a demolition crew, dismantle the political system, create swift regime change, and bring prosperity, freedom, and liberties back to the people where it belongs. So, it was only out of a matter of righteousness that some of the most tactical, methodical, and brave Irish men, women, and children band together for the name of republicanism to turn the oppression on its head and pave a way out of humiliation, oppression, and gore into a new av...

In our various excursions throughout the Emerald Isle, I have been made aware repeatedly throughout our stops on the history of early 20th-century Irish revolutionaries who fought and often died for the noble cause of Irish republicanism. While I -- an American -- acknowledge the disconnect between myself and a devoted, staunch Irish citizen in paying respect to many of the fallen revolutionaries of yesteryear colonial Ireland, I can't possibly refrain from acknowledging how vital these brave men and women were to fostering and cultivating the Irish republic. As to pour one out for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice or who lived to see strides towards the horizon, I paid a visit to the Glasnevin Cemetery -- the final resting place for many of the most consequential revolutionaries in Irish history. The final resting place of many of the most storied revolutionaries is in suburban Dublin at the Glasnevin Cemetery, known for its unapologetic Catholic imagery prevalent throughout. ...

Kids, when I was a young man unsatisfied with various aspects of UWL and all it inflicted upon my social life, I booked my study-abroad trip to Ireland so as to escape towards something out there that gave me some relief from the more anxiety-inducing events that I encountered in the past three years in La Crosse, even if it would only turn out to be marginal, temporary happiness. That, of all ideas, led me to the wonderful, curvaceous, and tall specimen that you now know as the Cliffs of Moher, the geographic gem of the Emerald Isle that I met at a very strange time in my life. In all seriousness, I had seen the Cliffs of Moher from afar before -- again through pop culture -- namely in The Princess Bride when Inigo Montoya looks to get back at his father's six-fingered murderer by defeating him in a duel; he fails miserably and takes the L on the "Cliffs of Insanity". Of course, the cliffs -- as most cliffs in fact do -- looked pretty cool as a tourist attraction, often...

In booking my trip to Ireland to study the art of Irish memoirs and Irish politics, I was delighted to find out that one destination on the list of class-sanctioned excursions was to the beautiful town of Galway. Of course, as an American, my sole connection to the city of Galway came from a certain musical composition created from a certain English musician (fellow-ginger, one of the only redeeming qualities about him) that seems to talk about everything about stereotypical Irish culture. So, it was to my utter lack of surprise that I totally walked into The Song That Should Not Be Named as a cultural reference in our introduction to the O'Connell's Bar in downtown Galway. A classic Irish pub with an outstanding scene in the backyard beer garden, the bar has a sad history of being eternally connected to that song for being the main location of filming for the events featured in the lyrics. (At least it featured beloved Irish Oscar-nominated actress Saoirse Ronan, which brings...

For someone whose absolute joke of a social life has led him to attend no formal concerts throughout my life, I found it to be advantageous to attend a concert in Dublin for the 1975 -- a band who I had heard of but not heard a single note of a song of. In roughly a week of preparation and homework of the band, whose millennial voice on Gen-Z issues in society has drawn some critical acclaim, I came to the calculation that this was not necessarily a band that I would covet having to see live, but also one that I could have a decent time watching (if that makes any sense). In the grand scheme of things: why not? I was tired of having a social life distinguished as having had no actual fun, and I came to Ireland to change that exact purpose, so a concert could make that change for the better. Come concert day, after our excursion to Dublin City Hall, I was ready to go. After having studied the five studio albums released by the 1975 since their inception (and only remembering a few of th...

For a city as massive and illustrious as Dublin, the state of current-day Dublin cannot simply trace its origin to one single industry, event, or beverage. Throughout my time in Dublin, I have been made routinely aware on the vast influence that culture and history have held the city to a crutch over, and I was again made aware of the city of Dublin's history through my visits to the Irish Famine Exhibition and the Guinness Storehouse. Located in a shopping mall of all places across the street from the St. Stephens Green and the luxuriant Grafton Street, the Irish Famine Exhibition was an informative museum and a glorified PowerPoint presentation on the British vitriol and the unfortunate, lethal actions taken up by British forces to undermine the food safety and food supply of the native Irish population in the mid 19th-century. An accurate representation of the museum itself would hardly render itself to be emblematic in interior to other well-known museums, with black-painted pl...

 As a proud American, I can acknowledge, if not always am infatuated with the fact that a municipal government can produce meaningful change in the lives of its constituents. Now, this idealized vision of municipal government might be a tad drawn out of proportion due to my Parks and Recreation fandom, but it would appear on its facade that the Republic of Ireland would appear to give more legislative/political weight to the federal governments as opposed to more of a localized strain of government outreach. For a nation smaller in size and population than the state of Wisconsin, it wouldn't be farcical to suggest that power should be more centralized as opposed to the American style of federalism. Nonetheless, I found the hospitality of the Dublin City Council to be incredible for a group of students who likely won't be concerned too much about the state of Dublin City Hall following the trip (my apologies for the blatant pessimism here in Dublin's municipal government). ...

As a lukewarm golf fan, the fact that I did not encounter Northern Ireland's favorite son Rory McIlroy at least once on our class excursion to his home constituent country gave me such an "aw shucks" attitude that I (and the rest of the class) decided to embark on Ireland's showcase of nature at the Giant's Causeway to cope. Located at the tip of Northern Ireland near the town of Bushmills, my only past exposure to the wondrous land formation was that of the Led Zeppelin album Houses of the Holy , whose album cover featured the hexagonal columns native to Giant's Causeway, a mystical, orange-tinted sky, and some weird humanoid-figures laying ever so casually on the rocks. Much like with Rory McIlroy, I was perplexed and disappointed to not find an orange sky, weird humanoid-figures, or any of the living band-members of Led Zeppelin, but thankfully, the geographical beauty in front of me was more than enough to overcome my lost opportunity of not seeing things ...

My time in Ireland has also extended to the northern region of Ulster, and more specifically Northern Ireland, a constituent country of the United Kingdom. Months prior to this visit, I was enthused to learn out from my mom that much of her ancestry derives from the Ulster region of the Irish island, but admittedly, this information paled in relation to the notion that parts of Belfast were still segregated by religious and political identities. This notion, unfortunately, rendered a preconceived attitude that I was not to look forward to our visit to the Belfast but for its historical context to the Troubles. For the most part, this assumption was correct, but Belfast still has at least some redeeming qualities in its downtown, riverfront area. To the contrary, our two tours in the loyalist, British-supporting section of Belfast and subsequently the republican, Irish-supporting section of Belfast were two bleak, depressing, and unpleasingly partisan accounts from two incredibly insigh...