In keeping with my grand tradition of Mondays and Tuesdays where I don’t really do anything, these two days were no different. So rather than waste this space with two more paragraph-long updates talking about summer school, I figured I’d expand a little on what this trip has been like so far.
Irish people, specifically those who live in Dublin, are some of the most idiosyncratic people on the planet. Let me explain. They often behave in a way that is completely different from everywhere else in the world, and they are more than content to do it. Case in point: when walking around the sidewalks of most American cities, you find people ambling along, taking their time and “stopping to smell the roses” (so to speak). In Dublin, every single person (with the exclusion of girls aged 14 to 18) walks at a rather swift pace that my history professor/program coordinator Dave Kilroy calls “Dublin Standard Pace.” This means that when you ask someone for directions, they may tell you it takes about 10 minutes, but you could end up walking for 20, especially if you’re looking at a map. Fortunately, I’m someone who enjoys walking very quickly, and so if I know where I’m going, I fit right in.
The other thing that really stands out about the Irish is their propensity to lie. Not lying in a malicious way, but in a joking way that can make it seem like you’re not really having a conversation so much as reciting dialogue in a comedy, and you’re the straight man. People of Ireland, specifically Dubliners, specifically Northsiders (north of the River Liffey) absolutely love to pull each other’s leg, and they love to do it to Americans even more. I’ve seen many people on our trip get a very confused look on their face as they try to figure out why this Irish person has just refused to give them directions. Usually, they see the look of confusion and let up, as they are not sociopaths. But the best way to get around this is to call them out on it. If you join them on the joke, they immediately see that you have your wits about you, and they’re instantly your best friend. Incidentally, that’s a good way to get someone to buy you a pint.
But one of the biggest things that has surprised me since I arrived here on the Emerald Isle is how backwards the American view of the Irish accent really is. Every single American I know thinks they can do an Irish accent. What I’ve realized is that the accent everyone is imitating is used by a very small percentage of the population, and they tend to live in rural areas. Within the city of Dublin, you’ll encounter at least two different accents (Northside and Southside), not to mention all the regional accents. It’s like the US, but compressed into a smaller country. But speaking with some Irish people (namely my film professor, Seamus), you would be hard pressed to figure out what country they were from. You can tell they have an accent, but it would be quite difficult to pin Ireland as the exact source. Lucky (the leprechaun from Lucky Charms cereal) would definitely come from the much more rural west, and thus his accent would stand out like a sore thumb in Dublin. Perhaps the worst instance of an American “doing” an Irish accent is Julia Roberts as Kitty Kiernan in Michael Collins, the story of the figurehead in the Irish War for Independence from Britain. I asked Seamus before watching the clip, “Does she have an Irish accent?” His reply: “She thinks she does.”
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