On Black Friday, three other Americans and I cooked ourselves Thanksgiving dinner. We made a trip to the grocery store for all the necessary ingredients and prepared a feast together. We had a too-big (i.e. just right) turkey, plenty of potatoes, creamed corn, sweet potatoes, green beans, gravy, a pecan pie, and a buttermilk pie. I made the two pies myself, and we all worked on the rest of the meal. We had two bottles of wine, some cider, and two cases of Stella. We had leftovers of everything but the wine. Zach, Christina, Ashley, and I were all very pleased with how everything came together and our mothers should be proud.
I am thankful for my adorable niece and I hope she enjoyed her first Thanksgiving. I am thankful for friends and family that will always listen. I am thankful for being able to spend such an important day with friends who make it feel like home even though we're far from it. I am thankful for knowing where home is better than most other members of my generation. I am thankful for this opportunity to much better appreciate my home. Indeed, I am thankful.
11/29/08
11/26/08
Doing Things the Nate Way
I would like it to be understood that I was happy to do this to get to the wedding.
Now to talk about the bookends of the wedding trip: the traveling. It has occurred to me lately that I am trying my damnedest to disprove the idea that I am a "smart" person. My best piece of evidence is how I got from from Belfast to Newark last week. I booked my London-Newark flight well before the Belfast-London flights, for whatever reason. The London-Newark flight left at 9am on Thursday, and there are no flights out of Belfast that early, so I flew to London on Wednesday. The hotel in Heathrow was closed by the time I got to it, and the public transit doesn't run at 5:30am when I would have needed to check in, so I spent the night in Heathrow. I mean this loosely, because I only took about four 40 minute naps on a bench. This was NOT a good time, especially when the cops woke me up at about 1:30 by looming over me. It was one of the worst experiences I've ever had.
I flew to Detroit (more evidence for my case) the next morning, with virtually no sleep on the eight hour flight. I had heard immigration can be a little sticky even for Americans, but I was pleasantly surprised when the officer said: "Ireland huh? Cool." *Stamp*
The Detroit to Newark flight was easy. I had a little trouble finding the hotel shuttles at the airport, and found the wrong Hilton shuttle first, of course. It took about two hours to finally get to the right Hilton, which I left immediately after to get to Manhattan. I had been awake (except for the naps) for 40 hours when I got to dinner. I was up for another four hours until I got to Jean's apartment that night. By then I was barely coherent and probably didn't remember my own name.
I was never quite right all weekend, but I did my best. By the time I left I suppose my timezone was somewhere over Nova Scotia, possibly Maine. It's Wednesday afternoon now and I'm still not quite back on Belfast time.
I was a bit worried about immigration at Heathrow after their threat two months ago to turn me around if I didn't change some things, but it was clear I would only be in the UK for another three weeks, so I got through easily enough. I didn't need a single scrap of the documentation I had. Heathrow is unlike other airports in that it divides its terminal corridors to segregate inbound/outbound passengers. The way they shut doors behind the different groups before others can move reminds me a lot of sorting cows in a corral. In case it's not clear, I don't like Heathrow.
After flying about 9,100 miles in five days, I stumbled back into my room. This end of the trip had only taken about 26 hours door to door. If you ever need advice on a trip, and want to ask me, stop and think about what you're doing. Either I am not as bright as I've apparently fooled some into thinking or there is roughly a 100% chance of me dramatically screwing up the first time I try anything. There is definitely a better way to do this traveling business, and if I ever plan myself into a situation like that again, I am fired.
Now to talk about the bookends of the wedding trip: the traveling. It has occurred to me lately that I am trying my damnedest to disprove the idea that I am a "smart" person. My best piece of evidence is how I got from from Belfast to Newark last week. I booked my London-Newark flight well before the Belfast-London flights, for whatever reason. The London-Newark flight left at 9am on Thursday, and there are no flights out of Belfast that early, so I flew to London on Wednesday. The hotel in Heathrow was closed by the time I got to it, and the public transit doesn't run at 5:30am when I would have needed to check in, so I spent the night in Heathrow. I mean this loosely, because I only took about four 40 minute naps on a bench. This was NOT a good time, especially when the cops woke me up at about 1:30 by looming over me. It was one of the worst experiences I've ever had.
I flew to Detroit (more evidence for my case) the next morning, with virtually no sleep on the eight hour flight. I had heard immigration can be a little sticky even for Americans, but I was pleasantly surprised when the officer said: "Ireland huh? Cool." *Stamp*
The Detroit to Newark flight was easy. I had a little trouble finding the hotel shuttles at the airport, and found the wrong Hilton shuttle first, of course. It took about two hours to finally get to the right Hilton, which I left immediately after to get to Manhattan. I had been awake (except for the naps) for 40 hours when I got to dinner. I was up for another four hours until I got to Jean's apartment that night. By then I was barely coherent and probably didn't remember my own name.
I was never quite right all weekend, but I did my best. By the time I left I suppose my timezone was somewhere over Nova Scotia, possibly Maine. It's Wednesday afternoon now and I'm still not quite back on Belfast time.
I was a bit worried about immigration at Heathrow after their threat two months ago to turn me around if I didn't change some things, but it was clear I would only be in the UK for another three weeks, so I got through easily enough. I didn't need a single scrap of the documentation I had. Heathrow is unlike other airports in that it divides its terminal corridors to segregate inbound/outbound passengers. The way they shut doors behind the different groups before others can move reminds me a lot of sorting cows in a corral. In case it's not clear, I don't like Heathrow.
After flying about 9,100 miles in five days, I stumbled back into my room. This end of the trip had only taken about 26 hours door to door. If you ever need advice on a trip, and want to ask me, stop and think about what you're doing. Either I am not as bright as I've apparently fooled some into thinking or there is roughly a 100% chance of me dramatically screwing up the first time I try anything. There is definitely a better way to do this traveling business, and if I ever plan myself into a situation like that again, I am fired.
Congratulations Noah and Jean!
A week ago I flew back to New Jersey for Noah's wedding. There are some details to the traveling that I will go into later. I got to Newark mid-afternoon Thursday and made my way to Noah's work in Manhattan. From there we walked to the oldest pizzeria in Manhattan and ate with Jim, Chris, Emily, Sven, Jean, and Noah's Belgian host family from ten years ago Rudy and Mika. It was great to see everyone. We met Aaron, Courtney, and Elayna (ACE) when we got back to the Hilton in Newark. Elayna is HUGE and no pictures can do her justice.
There wasn't much scheduled for Friday, so Jim, ACE, and I went back to Manhattan to pick up a couple tuxes. Jim took the tuxes back to the hotel so the rest of us could do some exploring. We got another hefty dose of the NYC subways and went to about 60th street. We saw the southeast corner of Central Park, ate at a so-so burger place, and wandered around FAO Schwartz, a massive toy store. Elayna hadn't been feeling well most of the day, so we cut the trip a little short and headed back to Newark. The rehearsal dinner was held at a Korean restaurant and was fantastic. I've had Korean food twice, and it amazes me how much can be set on a table. I was still on Belfast time so by about 7pm I was fading, but I had a good visit with my dad and aunt's cousin Willa, who lives in Astoria, and one of the groomsmen, Matt. I stayed at the Hilton that night, in the bridal suite with Noah. I'll let you use your imagination to picture what it was like getting the room keys from the front desk.
The big day started at 6am for Noah and his groomsmen, but the other half of the bridal party got up at 4. A limo took Noah, the other groomsmen, and I to Edgewater, NJ to pick up Jean and her bridesmaids. We were hopefully the classiest people to go to Starbucks that morning. The pictures were taken by the river, and it was frigid.
The ceremony was held on the 22nd floor of the Newark Center, which had an unreal view of the city and the river. It went smoothly, with just enough memorable quirks to chuckle about later. Jean was beautiful, and Noah's tallness was thoroughly admired.
The reception was a great success, with singing and dancing by a very agreeable crowd. Elayna tried her best to show up Jean. I was glad to visit with my Pennsylvania cousins, especially Blake who spent two summers irrigating and haying for us.
Noah and Jean stayed in the Ritz Carlton that night, so a small group of us had drinks in its 14th floor bar after the reception. The place has a great view of the New York skyline. Noah and Jean have a fun group of friends and I'm glad to have met them, especially Matt Matera and Jon Blank, the groomsmen. I was truly honored to even be with Noah and Jean on their wedding day, not to mention to be Noah's best man. Congratulations Noah and Jean!
I flew out the next morning, back to Belfast and the last few weeks of my Irish experience.
There wasn't much scheduled for Friday, so Jim, ACE, and I went back to Manhattan to pick up a couple tuxes. Jim took the tuxes back to the hotel so the rest of us could do some exploring. We got another hefty dose of the NYC subways and went to about 60th street. We saw the southeast corner of Central Park, ate at a so-so burger place, and wandered around FAO Schwartz, a massive toy store. Elayna hadn't been feeling well most of the day, so we cut the trip a little short and headed back to Newark. The rehearsal dinner was held at a Korean restaurant and was fantastic. I've had Korean food twice, and it amazes me how much can be set on a table. I was still on Belfast time so by about 7pm I was fading, but I had a good visit with my dad and aunt's cousin Willa, who lives in Astoria, and one of the groomsmen, Matt. I stayed at the Hilton that night, in the bridal suite with Noah. I'll let you use your imagination to picture what it was like getting the room keys from the front desk.
The big day started at 6am for Noah and his groomsmen, but the other half of the bridal party got up at 4. A limo took Noah, the other groomsmen, and I to Edgewater, NJ to pick up Jean and her bridesmaids. We were hopefully the classiest people to go to Starbucks that morning. The pictures were taken by the river, and it was frigid.
The ceremony was held on the 22nd floor of the Newark Center, which had an unreal view of the city and the river. It went smoothly, with just enough memorable quirks to chuckle about later. Jean was beautiful, and Noah's tallness was thoroughly admired.
The reception was a great success, with singing and dancing by a very agreeable crowd. Elayna tried her best to show up Jean. I was glad to visit with my Pennsylvania cousins, especially Blake who spent two summers irrigating and haying for us.
Noah and Jean stayed in the Ritz Carlton that night, so a small group of us had drinks in its 14th floor bar after the reception. The place has a great view of the New York skyline. Noah and Jean have a fun group of friends and I'm glad to have met them, especially Matt Matera and Jon Blank, the groomsmen. I was truly honored to even be with Noah and Jean on their wedding day, not to mention to be Noah's best man. Congratulations Noah and Jean!
I flew out the next morning, back to Belfast and the last few weeks of my Irish experience.
11/16/08
Bagpipery
Zach Silverman and I took a trip to Armagh yesterday. I had heard about an annual piping festival there and immediately put it on my calendar. I was a bit unsure of what to expect from such an event, but I was very curious.
We got to Armagh around noon and caught a lunch music session in a bar. If I had expected anything from the festival it would be that kind of music, with a couple uilleann pipers, a 9-year-old concertina player, and a couple fiddlers doing their thing. As soon as the session was over, we walked outside for a very impressive outdoor concert. The band playing consisted of fourteen highland pipes, about fourteen small French woodwinds, two snare drums, a large bass drum, and a full drum set. I'm no bagpipe expert but their music was unlike any other bagpipe music I've ever heard. The power of that many bagpipes with the strong bassline underneath was amazing and made the hair stand up on my neck, especially when all the bags were inflated and fourteen sets of pipes all stood up at once. It's no wonder they used to lead armies into battle.
We wandered around the town for awhile between concerts. Armagh has two cathedrals, and the Catholic cathedral is enormous. Armagh may be one of the more attractive cities in Northern Ireland because of the hills on which it was built. Some of its streets had been redone recently and gave the town a much fresher look than most others. The theatre and arts centers were also fairly new and were well suited for such an event.
The second concert was much different from the first. Four musicians from all over Europe each played a set. The first was Spanish and played one kind of pipes, the second was from Northumbria in Britain and played the border pipes attributed to that county, the third was Bulgarian and played a kind of pipes from the Balkans, and the fourth was French and played the Scottish highland pipes and the biennu pipes. I had no idea there was so much to bagpiping and that it was so widespread. For some, listening to bagpipes all day may be the definition of a nightmare, but I very much enjoyed it and learned a lot.
Also, while waiting for the bus back to Belfast I was hit on my two girls because of my accent. I've been here more than two months and this was a first. Then again, I might meet a few more girls if I wasn't in the old man pubs all the time. The girls didn't stick around long, so that was the end of that.
As I write this I am only a couple days away from my trip to New Jersey for Noah and Jean's wedding. I am very excited to see most of my family again and to be back on American soil. It won't be Montana, but I'll sure take it anyway. There are two very important things on my to-do list once I arrive: have a REAL cup of coffee, and eat an American cheeseburger.
We got to Armagh around noon and caught a lunch music session in a bar. If I had expected anything from the festival it would be that kind of music, with a couple uilleann pipers, a 9-year-old concertina player, and a couple fiddlers doing their thing. As soon as the session was over, we walked outside for a very impressive outdoor concert. The band playing consisted of fourteen highland pipes, about fourteen small French woodwinds, two snare drums, a large bass drum, and a full drum set. I'm no bagpipe expert but their music was unlike any other bagpipe music I've ever heard. The power of that many bagpipes with the strong bassline underneath was amazing and made the hair stand up on my neck, especially when all the bags were inflated and fourteen sets of pipes all stood up at once. It's no wonder they used to lead armies into battle.
We wandered around the town for awhile between concerts. Armagh has two cathedrals, and the Catholic cathedral is enormous. Armagh may be one of the more attractive cities in Northern Ireland because of the hills on which it was built. Some of its streets had been redone recently and gave the town a much fresher look than most others. The theatre and arts centers were also fairly new and were well suited for such an event.
The second concert was much different from the first. Four musicians from all over Europe each played a set. The first was Spanish and played one kind of pipes, the second was from Northumbria in Britain and played the border pipes attributed to that county, the third was Bulgarian and played a kind of pipes from the Balkans, and the fourth was French and played the Scottish highland pipes and the biennu pipes. I had no idea there was so much to bagpiping and that it was so widespread. For some, listening to bagpipes all day may be the definition of a nightmare, but I very much enjoyed it and learned a lot.
Also, while waiting for the bus back to Belfast I was hit on my two girls because of my accent. I've been here more than two months and this was a first. Then again, I might meet a few more girls if I wasn't in the old man pubs all the time. The girls didn't stick around long, so that was the end of that.
As I write this I am only a couple days away from my trip to New Jersey for Noah and Jean's wedding. I am very excited to see most of my family again and to be back on American soil. It won't be Montana, but I'll sure take it anyway. There are two very important things on my to-do list once I arrive: have a REAL cup of coffee, and eat an American cheeseburger.
11/10/08
Comber
I spent last weekend in Comber, Co Down and stayed with a friend of Greg and Sarah Clark. Diane Presho met Greg and Sarah on an exchange to MSU and was even Sarah's maid of honor in their wedding. I was at the wedding and Diane was shocked to know that I was ten or eleven at the time. She showed me the the many things worth seeing in the Comber area, including the scenery around Strangeford Lough, Sketrick Castle, Nendrum monastic site, and Scrabo tower above Newtonards. I very much enjoy getting off the beaten path and seeing these out of the way sites. To me, they're just as interesting, if not more, than major attractions in big cities, and come without the crowds and the feeling that you have to rush to see it all.
On Sunday, I was treated to a home-cooked lunch with Diane, her parents, and her brother. They live on a small farm and I was showed around the place. Most farms in Ireland are smaller, at least acreage-wise, than ranches in Montana. Diane's dad took me to a neighbor's farm though, and I was surprised. Four brothers own 1100 acres, 500 dairy cows, and 700 beef cows, which is a huge holding for Ireland. Not only that, but they custom cut 5000 acres for silage and another 2000 acres of grain. They showed me their very impressive equipment shed and I drove one of their five New Holland tractors. I was thrilled (really) to stand out in the cold and talk about hay equipment and how they put up silage.
Between the food and drink, the site-seeing, and the conversation, last weekend was one of the most enjoyable I've had since I got here. Diane mentioned more than once that she loved her time in Montana and was happy to repay the kindness that she had been shown. I will be more than willing to do the same for anyone who might come to Montana in a similar situation.
Many thanks to Diane Presho and her family for their hospitality, and to the Clarks for helping to make the world a bit smaller.
On Sunday, I was treated to a home-cooked lunch with Diane, her parents, and her brother. They live on a small farm and I was showed around the place. Most farms in Ireland are smaller, at least acreage-wise, than ranches in Montana. Diane's dad took me to a neighbor's farm though, and I was surprised. Four brothers own 1100 acres, 500 dairy cows, and 700 beef cows, which is a huge holding for Ireland. Not only that, but they custom cut 5000 acres for silage and another 2000 acres of grain. They showed me their very impressive equipment shed and I drove one of their five New Holland tractors. I was thrilled (really) to stand out in the cold and talk about hay equipment and how they put up silage.
Between the food and drink, the site-seeing, and the conversation, last weekend was one of the most enjoyable I've had since I got here. Diane mentioned more than once that she loved her time in Montana and was happy to repay the kindness that she had been shown. I will be more than willing to do the same for anyone who might come to Montana in a similar situation.
Many thanks to Diane Presho and her family for their hospitality, and to the Clarks for helping to make the world a bit smaller.
11/3/08
Another Weekend Come and Gone
I made good on my claim of wandering off some afternoon. I traveled to northern county number five on my list and went to Omagh, Co. Tyrone on Thursday afternoon. It's about two hours to the west of Belfast and has about 40,000 people. I stayed the night at the Omagh Hostel just for the sake of getting out of Belfast for more than a day. From my past experiences at hostels I expected there to be at least a couple other people staying there, but I was the only inhabitant that night, except for the Vermonter who appeared out of the attic rather suddenly after I had been there for a couple hours. The hostel was about three miles out of town, so I didn't get to go out and experience the sparse nightlife.
The next day I asked around to see what in the town was worth seeing, and was surprised that even the locals don't talk up their town much. I found the memorial to the victims of the Omagh bombing of 1998 and took several pictures of it which are on my shutterfly page, along with the rest of the sites. I had heard that Omagh had some noteable music shops, but I only found one. I played their fiddles for the better part of an hour and tried out a tenor banjo for the sake of curiosity, but didn't find anything I couldn't live without.
I found my way back to Belfast that afternoon, but decided to be one of very few people in Ireland who didn't make a big deal out of Halloween. Wherever I was after dark, fireworks went off and seemed very close. A lot of the people I know here dressed up and even went all the way to Derry for the street parties, but I just played poker at a friend's house.
I went to the John Hewitt session on Saturday night because my friend Zach wanted to show his girlfriend Haley some real Irish music while she was here on a visit. The musicians welcomed me back like they have before, but I am still very slow at picking up their tunes. I am realizing just how high the learning curve is in this game, not just because of the very high degree of difficulty and quality in the music here, but also in my abilities, or lack thereof. I haven't been kicked out of the place or anything, but I have been humbled.
While at the John Hewitt, Zach and Haley were joined at their table by two couples from Cushendall on the northern coast. We ran into them later in the night, and they were an interesting bunch. Going to pubs and visiting with strangers "for the craic, the beer, and the banter, but mostly the beer" was something they took very seriously. They aren't at the pubs all the time, but when they do, they take all of their kids, and everyone has a great time socializing for the sake of it. It is their hobby. This is about as clear a contrast between Ireland and the States as I can imagine.
I spend quite a bit of time in my flat than I let on, cooking my college student meals and sometimes being studious. I visit with my flatmates during the week but they all go home during the weekend, leaving me with a very quiet flat. I entertain myself one way or another, and one of my favorites is listening to Prairie Home Companion on the internet. I've listened to it for quite a while now, and have made a habit of tuning in to pass the time during those long July Saturday afternoons spent on the swather. Listening to the news from Lake Wobegon, where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and the children are above average, is a very comforting reminder of home, even if home's in Montana.
The next day I asked around to see what in the town was worth seeing, and was surprised that even the locals don't talk up their town much. I found the memorial to the victims of the Omagh bombing of 1998 and took several pictures of it which are on my shutterfly page, along with the rest of the sites. I had heard that Omagh had some noteable music shops, but I only found one. I played their fiddles for the better part of an hour and tried out a tenor banjo for the sake of curiosity, but didn't find anything I couldn't live without.
I found my way back to Belfast that afternoon, but decided to be one of very few people in Ireland who didn't make a big deal out of Halloween. Wherever I was after dark, fireworks went off and seemed very close. A lot of the people I know here dressed up and even went all the way to Derry for the street parties, but I just played poker at a friend's house.
I went to the John Hewitt session on Saturday night because my friend Zach wanted to show his girlfriend Haley some real Irish music while she was here on a visit. The musicians welcomed me back like they have before, but I am still very slow at picking up their tunes. I am realizing just how high the learning curve is in this game, not just because of the very high degree of difficulty and quality in the music here, but also in my abilities, or lack thereof. I haven't been kicked out of the place or anything, but I have been humbled.
While at the John Hewitt, Zach and Haley were joined at their table by two couples from Cushendall on the northern coast. We ran into them later in the night, and they were an interesting bunch. Going to pubs and visiting with strangers "for the craic, the beer, and the banter, but mostly the beer" was something they took very seriously. They aren't at the pubs all the time, but when they do, they take all of their kids, and everyone has a great time socializing for the sake of it. It is their hobby. This is about as clear a contrast between Ireland and the States as I can imagine.
I spend quite a bit of time in my flat than I let on, cooking my college student meals and sometimes being studious. I visit with my flatmates during the week but they all go home during the weekend, leaving me with a very quiet flat. I entertain myself one way or another, and one of my favorites is listening to Prairie Home Companion on the internet. I've listened to it for quite a while now, and have made a habit of tuning in to pass the time during those long July Saturday afternoons spent on the swather. Listening to the news from Lake Wobegon, where the women are strong, the men are good looking, and the children are above average, is a very comforting reminder of home, even if home's in Montana.
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