Hello and welcome to the final Donegal gazette for 2007! Things sped up dramatically this week; I caught another cold (first centered around a cough – not, apparently, the National Cold), worked incredibly hard, and was emphatically reminded of why I usually suggest that Cary and Morgan go home before the last two weeks. The workload and problems to solve are generally nearly overwhelming. On Monday I taught a language review class for the two different groups of students, and completed work on the final language exam. Gearóidín Breathnach came to work with them in the afternoon, teaching two exceptionally sad and beautiful songs. She also told stories and anecdotes, and was both perceptive and elegant in her explanation of regionalism in sean-nós singing, and how her tradition fits into the larger set of Donegal traditions. I admire her work (and her crystal-clear singing voice) immensely. I was so lucky to see her win the national championship in Letterkenny several years ago; her singing was brilliant!

In the evening Kate Newmann came for the final poetry class. She brought nice pieces of Donegal driftwood in interesting shapes; mine was the perfect shape of a bird’s head (like a kingfisher or cormorant). Everyone wrote a poem about an individual piece of wood. Kate then passed out “candy hearts” (the ones that have something written on them) and we each read ours out loud! Mine said “first love,” but some were hilarious, like “cheeky boy” and “you are okay.” Then we wrote poems about the candy heart saying that we’d received (mine was about Craig Strong, a person I loved at 14 who ended up a student at Evergreen – one of my colleagues still remembers him!). Kate brought out some large wooden dragonflies that were perfectly balanced so they could sit on the tip of your finger; we wrote about balance and dragonflies. The last poem was about “family members and other animals,” and it was very interesting to hear the wildly variant interpretations that people placed on the assignment. I noticed that for both Gearóidín and Kate’s classes that I felt sort of panicky about it being the last time we would see them.

I had an odd encounter with an elderly local man on Monday evening just before class; he walked up to me when I was getting out of my car and said “Ask and ye shall receive! D’ye know Carrick, about six miles up the road?” I knew he was asking me for a lift, but I had to get to class and told him so. He asked where I was from, and when I replied he said, “Ach, ye’re all from Seattle.” Then he glared at me and said, “Ye shall be punished!” I didn’t know how to answer that, so I decided to give him a big smile and say “Thank you!” as if he’d paid me a compliment. He looked at me like I was nuts and stomped off. I finished my business at the shop and mentioned the fellow outside to the proprietor, and couldn’t for the life of me understand what he said in reply. It was one oddity added to another.

We had our final seminar on the beach on Tuesday afternoon; it was a gorgeous day and not too windy (remarkable, considering how very windy and rainy that it’s been lately). I made a series of announcements about cleaning up and checking out of the cottages, then we took a few group photographs. The real seminar had to do with a couple of main issues: 1) what will you remember five years from now? and 2) what won’t people get about you when you go home? Some of the answers were quite interesting! Certainly people at home won’t be accustomed to the Irishisms that the students know now, or the friendly sociability that one shows to complete strangers. Most of them have seemed eager – even desperate – to go home all week, but there were moments in seminar when one could see subtle looks of “oh, right, that’s going to be different.” In any case, when they were done writing and the seminar was over, I told them that Dunstan and I were going to create a circle in the sand for sumo wrestling, and then we said goodbye and walked down the beach. We drew out a circle and then walked away from it, and within minutes most of the group was gathered, cheering and shouting, around two people wrestling. This has been a part of previous final seminars (on the beach) and it’s a great chance for people to dispel tension, laugh, and have fun.

That night we had a short presentation by Eithne Ní Ghallachóir, whose special focus is Irish medical manuscripts from the 13th to the 15th centuries (if you don’t mind, as the Irish would say to describe something incredibly arcane). What an extraordinary specialty! She is young, lively, charismatic, and charming, so that helped make her presentation quite interesting. She and one other person are the only people in the world doing research on this topic; you need fluency in Early Middle Irish and Latin to do it, as well as some medical expertise. I suspect that people with those capabilities are rather thin on the ground. One of the early manuscripts described men and women as exactly the opposite from each other in terms of their reproductive anatomy (and men, being warmer, need theirs on the outside). Another one noted that the shape of muscles are like the shape of mice – hence the Latin word for muscle is the same as the word for mouse. I never would have dreamed that I would find the topic that entertaining, but I did. Perhaps I’m just a sucker for an academic with charisma – a rare bird indeed!

Some of the things I’ve done this time are spurred by student interest, but have piqued mine as well. On Wednesday morning I took two students to Kilcar to investigate a source for yarns and fleeces. I wouldn’t have gone on my own, but the students were very keen about it and then I was too. I had been given more yarn from the sweater shop the day before (greens, this time) and have loved seeing the heathered colors (and winding a few of them into balls to take home), and Kilcar is only a few miles away. The shop (Studio Donegal) is very nice, with beautiful work. There were multiple sets of tourists coming through while we were there, and I chatted with the proprietor for awhile. The students each bought a fleece (very reasonably priced – I think 33 euro for a kilo) and we all got back in time for the late morning class.

Two former students of mine visited from the States this week: Riley and Ian McLaughlin (father and son). They were students in the summer Irish language and singing class from several years ago, and they are tooling around Ireland for a few weeks and decided to stop by. They stayed for a couple of nights and made themselves very easy guests; we chatted in the mornings and evenings, and they had adventures during the day. I basically had Wednesday afternoon off so I took them around to the (very local) dolmens and standing stones, and it was fun. The weather was good, as well. I hung out during the evening bodhrán class, and I even picked up a bodhrán and tipper and played for awhile. We were playing along with a Stockton’s Wing CD that I like very much.

Liam Cunningham gave the language class on Thursday morning, immediately getting the students to speak and interact, and it was great to see him in action. Too bad he's so busy! Liam has so many administrative duties that he’s busy at all times. In the afternoon I took one of my students to the remote Donegal airport (he paid for my gas) and then got back in time to pick up a handful of students from the home of a local knitter, Bríd. She was so sweet! She lent them patterns, gave them tea and treats, chatted and told her life story to them; they were overwhelmed. And she sells her sweaters for far less than the main sweater shop (because she knits as a hobby). It was really great. I felt like I was intruding on her by coming to get the students! And later that night Dunstan and I went to Killybegs and met Liam and his wife Anne, and Gearóidín who works in the bookshop. We had a lovely dinner at a restaurant called Kitty Kelly’s (I must take Cary and Morgan there next time!); I had tomato-basil soup and duck for dinner, and crème caramel for dessert. Everyone was in a good mood and talking a mile a minute, and the restaurant owner was a delightful, charismatic man with red-rimmed glasses. It really took my mind off all the stress. I came home quite happy.

Everyone has been chattering about the big election that took place on Thursday. There have been posters everywhere for weeks. Men were clustered around the pubs on election night. This area is pretty strongly in favor of Sinn Féin, but it seems that the Fianna Fáil party (the one that’s been in power for ten years, with prime minister Bertie Ahern at its helm) had something of a landslide victory. I believe certain men in the area – particularly those with ties to Sinn Féin – were drowning their disappointment rather heavily on election night. Evidently there was a representative from each of the two main parties (Fianna Fáil and Fine Gael) at every polling place in the nation! My students were wondering if that was legal. Evidently it’s legal in Ireland.

I pretty much began packing much earlier this week so that I’d be ready to go when the time came. By Tuesday night I had the bulk of my stuff packed, actually. I carefully noted what food I would need and began using it up, with strict instructions to myself not to buy any more than what I could eat in the few days left. On Friday morning the students took the final exam; it was a somber room indeed. I couldn’t bear to look at the exams until I got home, so I stuffed them into my bag. Everyone showed up at the dorm for the final potluck dinner party; I’d told them that it was from 6 to 9, so by the time I showed up (6:30) it was in full swing. The food was delicious and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. I sang “Here’s a Health to the Company” after dinner and we collectively presented Tanya, the student who is over six months pregnant, with a lovely card and baby shower gifts. It was so nice!

Paddy Beag, a local man who had guided the students around the Columbkille pilgrimage on the first days of the visit, stopped by with a glass of wine. He was giving toasts in Irish and beaming happily with tears in his eyes when we gave him the card of thanks that all the students had signed (and he had been celebrating Fianna Fáil’s victory in the pub since it opened in the morning). While he was talking, someone noticed that a giant, perfect, double rainbow had formed over the town. The sun was going down and it was shining through an intense rain. And me without my camera!! Everyone was saying how great it was to have a double rainbow on our last night in Gleann. Dunstan and I helped to clean up, and everyone was (apparently) off to the pub by 9 pm. My former student Stacey (she married a local man and lives in the Gleann) and I had a great conversation (over an hour!) on the phone, and it was so nice to debrief the trip with someone who had been here as a student. I cleaned the cottage afterward, finished packing, and tried to sleep in spite of all the coughing.

The students left by 8:45 on Saturday morning; we ran around and inspected all the houses for cleanliness and damage. Dunstan and Liam and I stood at Oideas Gael and waved at the students on the bus as they drove past, and I had a pang of happiness to see them all, waving. It wasn’t even that I was “glad to see the back of them,” as they would say here, but that they are all likeable people with unique complications that have made my trip here incredibly exhausting but also fulfilling. I closed up my house and drove to say goodbye to my former student, Stacey, and her husband Diarmuid and child Niamh. We had a nice chat about the elections (and about the students), I said goodbye to Liam, and went off to Dublin. There was brilliant sunshine, harsh hail and driving rain, then just clouds. As I drove the short distance through Northern Ireland (it’s a short cut instead of driving through Sligo) I was reminded, yet again, of what a different country it is. Whereas in Donegal you wave to every passing driver, or pedestrian, or animal, in the North you keep your hands on the wheel and stare straight ahead. No one waved! It was sad. It certainly is nice not to have border checkpoints anymore, though.

Getting into the hotel and dropping off my stuff was easy and dropping off the rental car was fine. I waited in the bar and had a glass of Smithwick’s (a dark amber ale, pronounced “Smithicks”) until Lillis rang me for dinner. The newspaper was all about the elections, and my favorite headline – about the defeat of Gerry Adams’ Sinn Féin party – was Ní thiocfaidh Sinn Féin’s lá. This phrase is a play on the IRA slogan, tiocfaidh ár lá: “our day will come.” So the headline means “Sinn Féin’s day won’t come.” It’s not that I’m happy about Sinn Féin’s loss, but I like a clever title. Lillis and I went in a lovely BMW borrowed from his soon-to-be brother-in-law John to dinner at Café Provençale in Malahide (a very nice Dublin suburb). Lillis and I never run out of things to talk about, and after we were done we met John at a nearby pub. John is a delight, and although I’ve never met Lillis’s sister I’m sure I’d like her. I’d certainly be happy to have John (smart, funny, interesting, caring) as a member of my family, and I’m sure that Lillis feels lucky.

While we were at the pub one of the local election winners strode in to great cheers, flanked by several bagpipe players in full regalia. It was incredibly loud! But, as they say, it was great craic altogether. We went to John’s house afterward and had tea and sang to each other, and Lillis and I discovered to our mutual amazement that our voiced blend extremely well. We’ve only ever sung solo to each other, but John brought out a guitar and we all sang. It was so much fun! John called a taxi for me but it was Saturday night and very busy, so we sang some more while we waited. At about 1:45 in the morning we were singing “Whiskey in the Jar” and just as we were finishing the last chorus, John sang “whack fol de daddy oh, your taxi has arrived.” We couldn’t stop laughing! This being Ireland, the taxi driver and I got involved in a lively conversation about the pros and cons of taking up music as an adult; I told him about studying the fiddle and he talked about wanting to study the saxophone but being afraid that everyone would laugh at him. I fell into bed and slept better than I had during the entire time in Ireland. Our cottage may be considered one of the best ones in the Gleann, but the bed is just terrible.

I stayed in the Days Hotel near the airport, and was sure that my flight was leaving around 2 pm. But then I checked the ticket when Cary rang me in the morning, and discovered that my flight was booked for 11 am! It was 8:30 at the time and I was just lying around in bed thinking I had loads of time and enjoying what a sound sleep I’d had. So I leaped out of bed, got myself to the airport, and discovered that Expedia had booked me and a whole lot of other people (including one of my students) on a non-existent flight. After lots of hanging out in queues and waiting while the Aer Lingus people bickered about what to do, I was booked on an afternoon flight and allowed to check my bags in way early. So I had time to have breakfast at the airport, talk to Lillis on the phone for awhile, and wander around in the very good bookshop. I wished fervently that I hadn’t brought my fiddle since I hardly played it the whole time I was in Ireland. In fact, I could have left quite a lot of stuff at home in the first place.

The first flight was delayed by a couple of hours. To my surprise, I was detained at the airport security place. “Your name really is Sean?” And it went on and on. They just couldn’t believe that I would be called Sean, and they looked at my passport photo, my face, my chest, my face, my chest, the photo, etc. Meanwhile everyone else was getting on the plane. I did get on in time, but it was awkward to have the, um, female aspects of my upper body be scrutinized to ascertain whether I really was female. I refrained from appearing irritated, but I was certainly thinking that Ireland was about the only place in the world where a woman named Sean would be considered a security threat! The flight wasn’t terribly bouncy, although for each of the first several hours I had to spend a few minutes looking at my watch and counting the seconds to make time pass. Happily, for most of the flight you could barely tell you were on a plane (it’s an 8-hour flight).

Landing in Chicago was easy, customs was easy, and I was rebooked on a later flight to Seattle. I had just enough time to eat a small four-cheese pizza at the Wolfgang Puck place before I got on the next flight. It was more rough; we spent half an hour in a rather harsh storm over the midwest. However, the whole thing was, in general, less anxiety-producing for me than it has been in the last couple of years, and I’m hoping that my fears about being on a plane are diminishing. Landing in Seattle was no problem and (except for one bag that showed up a day late) it was so great to come home at last. And now I’m back in the States, almost over my cold, and ready to get back into my life here. Thanks for listening!