Gunternation

We’re at the end of our second real-life week in Dublin. Bill’s been working each day and then coming home and making us dinner. You didn’t think I’d be cooking, did you?

Our menu this week:
Monday–Chili
Tuesday–Stew of potatoes, cabbage, chick peas and chorizo
Wed–Grilled chicken salad
Thursday–Scrambled eggs, white pudding, rashers, sausage and toast

Tonight, maybe a trip to the pub?

On Monday, I went into the city to meet with CPL, a recruiting company I’ve been working with. They’re located in Merrion Square, so after my meeting I went to the National Gallery to eat lunch and view the Paintings from Poland exhibit.

I am particularly charmed by museum cafes. You can find one just by listening for the clinking dishes and hum of conversation, and they serve food that embodies the idea of lunch. I had chicken and mushroom soup with a tomato roll. If you’re served a pinkish/orangey bread in Ireland, it’s to-mah-to bread. Quite tasty. I had a book with me, so I read while eating my soup, stopping every so often to butter my bread. It seems wrong not to butter bread here.

I enjoyed the Polish exhibit. You could choose an audio tour in English or Polish. I chose English. The exhibit included the years 1880-1939–Symbolism through Modern Art. I found a Polish culture site referring to the exhibit saying,

The popularity of both Poland and Poles in Ireland is growing so rapidly, that the Irish are more and more interested in presenting Polish culture in their country. By means of the exhibition, they are aiming to attract the Polish audience and, at the same time, to promote Polish culture and provide the Irish with knowledge concerning Poles.

I hope Poles are popular in Ireland! I know many have immigrated in recent years. I was just looking at a grocery advertisement that features items such as Krakus Krakows – Sucha, Piwo Lech puszka, and Pierogi z serem.

I enjoyed the paintings. Some of the early paintings feature sad jesters and courtly elegance. Mythological and fantastic creatures make frequent appearances as well. The effects of cubism are apparent in many of the more recent works.

This was one of my favorites:

Ferdynand Ruszczyc
The White Mazurka, 1905

I like how much is depicted by this setting alone. The Mazurka is a traditional Polish dance and the White Mazurka is the last dance of the evening, frequently danced at dawn. So, the title denotes an ending, and the candles and tulle an ephemeral loveliness. This is the painter’s family estate and I think we can share his affection for these traditions and an awareness of their fading relevance. (Or that’s what the catalog says at least!)

The exhibit contained paintings from several father and son painters that spanned the transition from Symbolism to more Modernist ideals. One such pair is Jacek and Rafał Malczewski. These two paintings were displayed side by side.

Jacek Malczewski
St. Agnes 1920-1921

Rafał Malczewski
Pipeline in the Field, 1938

These paintings show obviously shared elements of composition from two interpretations. Jacek sought to convey the spiritual power of resurrection in his paintings–the change of the seasons being a constant reminder of rebirth. The colloquial saying, “St Agnes letting larks out of her purse” heralded the arrival of spring. His son was attracted to the effects of industrialization on his homeland.

Many more beautiful and interesting paintings in this exhibit. If you’re in the area, you should go! By the way, if anyone is watching, these images are for purely personal use!

I rode the train to Pearse Street on my trip to Merrion Square. We passed one scene on the way that I really wanted to photograph, but trying to look cool and non-touristy, I didn’t pull out my camera. It was near the Clontarf Road stop, and looking out to the East I saw an expanse of rooftops, small, crowded hills of grey shingles with groups of short, round chimneys, and beyond, on the horizon, a criss-cross of yellow and orange cranes reaching up into the sky. It depicted the current transformation of Dublin to me. But, as the man across from me said to his companion, “Ah, but they’re all idle. Doesn’t mean a thing if they’re idle.”

The rest of the week I’ve been taking calls from recruiters, wandering the neighborhood and slowly unpacking our last two suitcases.

This Monday is a Bank Holiday, so Bill and I are taking off for parts green. Then my parents arrive on Wednesday and we’ll be hitting the culture hard.

Some of you have heard Bill’s plan to keep us from falling into too much of a routine and forgetting we’re on a Grand Adventure. He’s proposed that each month we spend one weekend doing something Dubliny, one weekend traveling somewhere in Ireland, one weekend hopping to another country, and one weekend just hanging out.

The monthly inter-country trips may be a bit ambitious–we’ll see. We do want to go everywhere. However, I think yesterday (Saturday) might qualify as a Dublin weekend.

Yesterday morning we walked to a Food Market in the park next to our apartment. St. Anne’s park is large, approximately 270 acres, so it was about a 20 minute walk. The park was formally part of a 500 acre estate belonging to the Guinness family. (Dublin has one of the largest urban parks in Europe, and I’m guessing the US too. Phoenix Park is 1752 acres.) The park is so big that I haven’t wanted to explore too far by myself as my weak sense of direction truly fails me when trees are involved. It’s an amazing park with sports turf, playgrounds, green fields, mossy rocks and dense trees. The rose garden is past its prime, but is still gorgeous. It will be stunning when all the bushes are in full bloom.

The Food Market is smaller than the one in Howth, but we still managed to spend all our cash. We had to get crepes of course. I had hard goat cheese, salad greens and sun-dried tomato pesto in mine. Bill had smoked salmon, crème fraîche, lemon juice and scallions. We bought four jars of jam: Plum, Damson Plum, Rhubarb and Ginger, and, by law, black currant. (Black currant is to Ireland’s palate what Purple Grape is to the taste buds of the US.) We also bought some chive goat cheese and an apple walnut AMAZING log.

I talked to a jewelry maker named Vincent Meehan who used to sell jewelry to Neiman Marcus in Texas. He also said he was commissioned to design jewelry to represent Ireland that didn’t have harps or shamrocks. He went to the ruins of Newgrange and based his designs on the ancient markings. He had some nice stuff, so next time we need to take a little more cash!

The market is held at a facility that also provides studio space to artists, and has a cafe there as well.

Last night we went to City Centre in search of food. Bill made a list of moderately priced restaurants in Temple Bar, and we chose an Italian placed called Trastavere. Pretty good, and we had a great table for people watching. Lots of the people were sparkly. I had a very nice ricotta and truffle oil ravioli with pancetta and Bill had penne with ragu of pork sausage and mushrooms.

On the bus on the way home we sat next to the same guy we had sat next to on the way into town. Weird. He was on his way to hear his friends play in a band and invited us to come. He said he could possibly get us in free. When he found out we were from Texas he made some comments related to the death penalty, I think, and said he understood why we wanted to leave. “They’ll never find us here,” I said, and he agreed. So, we could have met the next U2, but we’re old remember, and had bought books and really wanted to go home and start reading.

Oh, our books. We’re a little worried about them. Bill had a message on his NI voice mail in Austin saying one of the boxes was in the Lost and Found at FedEx. Apparently, the USPS uses FedEx for their m-bags. The particular box had his work books with his work number. Maybe the other boxes are sitting in customs in Ireland, which was the fate of a squirrel costume in an account we heard recently. I was upset about my books, and then Bill reminded me that his cookbooks were also in the missing boxes, at which point I became inconsolable, and hungry.

Bill can cook freestyle, thank goodness. Our dinner tonight of leek and goat cheese omelettes was delicious.

Today we went to church and lunch and then the grocery store. Bill is going to make chili. Yea!

We knew we’d start noticing the differences after settling in. First it was the lack of outlets in the bathrooms. Then we had to figure out how the water works. What we thought was a hot water heater is actually two tanks, the hot water tank and a cistern. Yes, a cistern. Apparently modern homes in the UK and Ireland use an indirect plumbing system. Water from the city main comes directly to the kitchen tap and to a cistern (and an outside tap if present). All the other taps are fed from the cistern. This is why children are taught not to drink the water from any tap except the kitchen. Most homes have the cistern in the attic so gravity does the work, and anything can fall into the cistern, e.g. dead pigeons and squirrels. Yuck. Our cistern is in a closet, so we shouldn’t have to worry about floating rodents, and we have a booster pump to get the water to the taps.

The indirect plumbing system does have some advantages, chiefly that the water pressure is consistent throughout the day. Also, if the water supply is cut off for any reason you still have some water. Still, it’s very strange to this American city-boy who is used to mains-water at every faucet.

Pub Grub

Some pubs offer a carvery. Usually a few meats and sides. Bill’s lunch here: roast beef, mashed potato, roast potato and veg, and stuffing I think.

Also from the carvery, I had tomato quiche, chips and slaw.

Last week we ate at a very nice Indian place in Swords (a town just up the M1) called Agni. Here are our appetizers:

At a sandwich place, Diet Coke served in coffee mugs with nary an ice cube.

I took a stroll to village center this afternoon. I was pleased to be asked for directions for the first time. I didn’t know the street of course, and was immediately revealed as American, and lost all respect when I offered my map. We were told recently that Irish folks don’t count map reading among their skills, and if directions can’t be given by the standard landmarks of churches or pubs, don’t even bother!

I took some pictures along the way.

The Station House pub we have visited twice. This is where I will wait for Bill when I don’t feel like walking home from the train station.

Semi-detached houses on our street.

Not sure where this leads, but looks worth checking out.

In other news:

• I’ve talked with several recruiters, and have been submitted for two positions. We’ll see if any interviews materialize.
• Bill picked up our ’96 VW Polo today.