As part of our "relaxation weekend" before we start planning our big end of the year projects, we took a trip to Giant's Causeway. We were walkin' on a bunch of sixty million year old basalt columns. Legend has it, the giant Finn McCool wanted to have a rumble with another giant across the North Channel in Scotland. Finn began building the path, placing each individual stone. Scientifically speaking, the causeway was formed from an ancient volcanic reaction.
Over the past
week we have toured Loyalist and Nationalist areas of Belfast. Both sides have
used murals to promote their ideas or messages. Some are messages of hope and
peace, some commemorate those who have died throughout the course of the
conflict, and some seem to incite more violence. Whether they were painted by
illegal paramilitary groups years ago who still refuse to take them down, or legitimate
organizations, these murals are on display for the public to see every day.
They are a constant reminder of the past, good or bad.
Murals are good indicators of the Loyalist and Nationalist divisions within the city. Check out this website to see how murals mark territory: http://www.belfast-murals.co.uk/
Click on the picture to enlarge! These murals are detailed so don't miss out!
Nationalist: Bobby Sands, IRA Member who died while
leading a hunger strike in prison, 1981
Nationalist: Marion Price, IRA Member arrested for the
Old Bailey Bombing in London. She has been arrested numerous
times since. Her current imprisonment remains controversial.
Loyalist: Mural painted by the Ulster Freedom Fighters (UFF)
also referred to as the Ulster Defense Association (UDA)
is a loyalist paramilitary group.
Close up of last picture. UFF/UDA officially ended its
armed campaign in 2007.
I’ve been
procrastinating this post for a few reasons. Firstly, we have had a jam-packed
schedule for the past few weeks. Secondly, I have been trying to draft this
post in my head but no words seem to do it justice. Thirdly, whenever I think
about trying to condense my past few days into a post, I’m overwhelmed.
Everything seems vitally important. What I’ve come to realize is that I cannot
begin to understand this deep seeded conflict with origins centuries old.
Northern Ireland is still a puzzle to me and anything I write here now is
merely a part of my thinking process. In my attempt to wrap my head around my
experiences here, I will share the stories about a few of the people we met
along the way.
Story #1:
Republican Majority View in South Armagh
Our first stop
was in South Armagh, also known as “Bandit Country” to all those outside of the
community. South Armagh is an unofficial division of the county of Armagh,
which borders the Republic of Ireland, but is part of Northern Ireland. Some
people in Armagh felt as if they were caught on the wrong side of the partition
and defended Irish nationalist ideas. Our guide was Thomas Marron, a former
member of the Provisional Irish Republican Army. Thomas spent 16 years in
prison as a political prisoner. He was released early under the terms of the
Good Friday Agreement. As part of his job helping the community deal with the
conflict, he takes groups on tours through South Armagh in an effort to give
the Republican perspective and help to promote understanding of the conflict.
Thomas
We met Thomas in
his office: a room covered with artifacts of the Irish conflict: Maps of the
location of the military bases in the area, unexploded petrol bombs, photos and
lists upon lists of volunteers who had died. Thomas works directly with
families who are still recovering from the Troubles and many contributed to
this unofficial museum. Thomas is as cool as a cucumber and cares deeply for
his surroundings and heritage as well as his political beliefs, but also
recognizes the need for peace and healing.
Once we made our
introductions, we piled in the van and set off on our tour. Thomas pointed out
different landmarks, which were significant to the conflict. I felt as if every
100 feet there was another site. We saw O’Hanlon’s Pub which housed secret
meetings of the IRA, Donnelly’s Bar which was the site of a bombing (with
suspected British Army collusion), and granite monuments commemorating those
who were killed or died for their cause. As we drove through the countryside,
it was impossible to tell which side of the border we were on. There are no
checkpoints, no barriers, or signs designating your position. Mailboxes were my
only hint in orienting myself: green for the republic, red for Northern
Ireland. South Armagh is mostly farmland. I found it hard to believe that it
was once the most militarized area in Western Europe. During the Troubles, the
British Army constructed military bases on every hilltop and used only
helicopters to move from place to place as the region was so volatile.
Memorial of So. Armagh IRA Volunteers who died
as a result of the conflict
Memorial to those who died on hunger strike to obtain
political prisoner status
The group at the hunger strikers memorial
Thomas grew up
in this militarized culture. He endured raids and harassment by the British
Army on a daily basis. His family, friends, and neighbors were under constant
supervision and faced a severe lack of privacy. The feeling of occupation was
oppressive. This is what made him decide to join the IRA. During his service, he
carried out many bombings and attacks on the British Army. One of the stops we
made on the tour was to what the IRA called “The Street.” The Street is a
former IRA hideout. On one side of the street is a memorial to IRA Volunteer
Seamus Harvey who was shot by British soldiers in an ambush. Across the road is
an old run-down farmhouse. Thomas told us that a local IRA sympathizer allowed
them to use the building as a hideout. I can only imagine what it must have
felt like to lie awake on the rickety floor of the farmhouse in the blackness
of the Irish countryside; each snap of a twig or rustle of the grass evokes the
fear of an ambush.
Almost everyone I
talked to in Dublin described Mayo as “wild country.” Being close to the coast
and subject to any storm that crosses the Atlantic, the weather can be volatile.
We were lucky and only experienced a bit a rain during our visit. The main
purpose of going to Mayo was to study the conflict brought on by the pipeline
project implemented by Shell Oil Company. Before I came to Ireland, I was
completely oblivious to this issue, which is unbelievable to look back upon now
that I’ve seen the land, met some people involved, and heard their stories.
During the past
week, I have been on a rollercoaster ride of emotions listening to history,
“facts”, personal testimonies, walking the land, talking with Shell
representatives, touring the construction sites, and being physically present
in an area that will be a place of unrest for many years to come.
The parish we
stayed in is called Kilcommon, a predominantly rural and isolated area located
on the Erris peninsula, which juts out into the Atlantic Ocean. The
controversial Corrib gas field is located 80 kilometers off the coast. The
pipeline has been laid offshore from the wells to Glengad. Shell plans to run
the pipe from Glengad, beneath Sruwaddacon Bay, to the onshore refinery at
Bellanaboy Bridge. The construction directly affects the Kilcommon parish
community, but also impacts those who live outside the construction area.
Hostel we stayed in owned by Betty
Beauty of the Bay
During our first
full day in the area, Simon Sweeney, an environmentalist with a special
interest in marine life, took us on a walking tour along the coast of
Broadhaven Bay. Simon’s respect and knowledge for the land radiated through his
descriptions about the many ways in which the locals interact with the land
including the use of vegetation found in the bog and on the shore or special
sheep grazing tactics. He also told us stories about the delicate balance that
must be maintained in order to preserve the fragile area. Broadhaven and
Sruwaddacon Bays have been declared Special Areas of Conservation (SAC) by the
European Union in order to protect birds, fish, and reefs that can be found
just off the coast.
Hike with Simon
Sphagnum moss found in bogs was used during WWI
in place of gauze
Sheep, sheep, and more sheep.
The communities that
make up northern Mayo, like many other rural communities throughout the
country, are rich in history and heritage. Some families have been in the same
community for generations, while others are relatively new. Regardless of how
long they have lived in the area, many people we spoke to expressed the feeling
of having deep ties to the land. Farmer Willie Corduff was quoted as saying, “I was born and reared on this farm. It’s memories
that are making us do what we are doing…They’re the memories you have and the
memories you have to keep. To see someone coming in now and trying to destroy
it, as Shell is doing, it kills you. Our footsteps are around the place since
we were able to walk.” Willie was one of the Rossport 5, a group of men who
went to prison for defying a court order which permitted Shell to work on their
land. The motivation behind their protest goes much deeper than property
rights: it cuts to the core and deals with the ideas of identity and heritage.
Green fence and yellow backhoes in the distance mark
site landfall site
Overlooking the bay where the pipeline runs
One of our lecturers, author
Michael McCaughan notes, “This is a community which takes pride in mapping out
local place names and restoring gravestones, maintaining a connection between
past, present, and future.” In
an area possessing so many layers of history, it is impossible to unravel the
past from present day. We spoke with retired school teacher Micheál (pronounced:
Mee-hawl) O’Seighin and he noted
that the echos of the past are important for daily life. The presence of the
past can be physical, with ancient ruins dotting the landscape or gravestones
placed a few years ago. But the past is also present in the retelling of
stories and in the mindset of the people and is often awakened in times of
struggle. Michael is a soft-spoken former teacher
who was one of the Rossport 5 and spent 94 days in jail. Remarkably, he didn’t
own any land affected by the pipeline, but he told us he went to jail because
for him it was the completely logical and rational thing to do. Michael is not
a radical, tree-hugging, granola-eating hippie (I know at some point reading
this you thought about it…). He is a man who has strong ties to his family, the
land, and has a deep sense of place.
To the people living
near the Shell project, the structures of society (police, judical system,
government representatives) which ideally were created to protect their rights
could no longer be trusted. Betty Schultz, a resident of Kilcommon wrote, “My
elected representative lies straight to my face...I experience hostile response
from all authorities. I witness the judge in court not batting an eyelid when
listening to blatant purjury by the police.” Micheál pointed out that with the
threat of the Shell project and the failure of the legal system to protect
their rights, arose the feeling:“The only thing we
could depend on was what stood the test of time before.”
At the dock area. The fishing industry was hit hard by the pipeline project
Protesting sign on a building in the middle of a field
Some people we spoke with believed that
out of this conflict arose a newfound sense of unity within the community. In
the initial stages of the project, many came out in protest, spent time
discussing the project with neighbors, and participated in community forums. One
could argue that this conflict has pulled Mayo into a much more global
community with a concern for social justice and environmental protection. The
creation of the solidarity camp is a perfect example of this global community. The
camp is currently composed of people from Ireland, England, France, and Germany
and has housed people from an even more diverse list of countries in recent
years. Each individual comes to the camp for different reasons, but their
purpose is to unite with the local community and work with them to make their
voices heard. Kate, a longtime member of the solidarity camp told us that
people throughout Ireland and the world have contacted local residents in
search of advice in creating protest campaigns. Mayo has become an example
(whether it be good or bad) for the world to reflect on.
I am a firm believer in
the idea that in order to truly understand a place, you must spend time there.
But after many experiences both home and abroad, I have found that sometimes
understanding cannot be reached until you have removed yourself from the
environment. This has been the case with my trip to Mayo. Now that I have had
the chance to reflect, I realize that I have taken so much away from our short
time in Mayo in terms of environmentalism, social justice, and conflict
studies: all of which I hope to apply in other areas throughout the program, especially
as I prepare to depart for Northern Ireland, as well as in other areas of my life. In a written piece by our
friend Betty, she identifies Shell’s presence within the community as
occupation, which I believe
to be a fitting description when I think of historical parallels. My first
thought went to the occupation of France during World War II and the
introduction of the Vichy regime. It is hard to believe that I am attempting to
compare WWII to a small rural town on the coast of Ireland, but the two
conflicts do share uncannily similar themes of confusion, lack of authority,
collaboration, resistance, feelings of defeat, and a strong sense of memory. Northern
Mayo may be a small area with a small conflict, but to the people in the midst
of it all, it is a continuous battle and it is anything but insignificant. I believe Patrick Kavanagh captures this sentiment
best in the last line of his poem titled Epic:
I
have lived in important places, times
When
great events were decided, who owned
That
half a rood of rock, a no-man's land
Surrounded
by our pitchfork-armed claims.
I
heard the Duffys shouting "Damn your soul!"
And
old McCabe stripped to the waist, seen
Step
the plot defying blue cast-steel -
"Here
is the march along these iron stones."
That
was the year of the Munich bother.
Which Was
more important? I inclined
To
lose my faith in Ballyrush and Gortin
Till
Homer's ghost came whispering to my mind.
He
said: I made the Iliad from such A local row.
Gods
make their own importance.
More information on the Shell project in Mayo:
Video produced by Shell provides the corporate perspective.
Documentary The Pipe uses real footage from protest and town meetings combined with interviews to depict the feelings of residents living near the pipeline project. If your interested, it's definitely worth a watch.
One of our first assignments was to complete a scavenger hunt for different parts of Dublin. Each group of two was given a different section of the city and a list of places to find. I was paired with Danny and our section was Dublin 1, North Side starting at the Parnell Monument on O'Connell Street. In addition to locating and photographing each place, we also had to find a bit of history or complete a task. Here are a few of the sights we saw:
The Spire
The Spire is located on O'Connell Street and acts as a great meeting point as the structure towers high over any building in the city. The official name of the Spire is "The Monument of Light." It was built to replace Nelson's Pillar, another monument that stood in the same spot until 1966 when it was destroyed in an IRA bombing. We found that Dubliners were apathetic about the Spire as no one showed real enthusiasm with the idea. It has acquired various nicknames including: Pin in the Bin, Stiletto in the Ghetto, Dublin's Biggest Heroin Needle, and many others too "colorful" to mention here...
Our next stop was to head down Earl Street to find a statue of a famous Dubliner:
James Joyce
James Joyce plaques, statues, and quotes are dotted throughout the city. There are also various buildings named after his famous works, displaying Dublin's pride toward the local author. There's also a guy who shows up on different streets impersonating this statue. He scared me half to death the other day when he caught me looking at him and gave me a thumbs up.
Peacock and Abbey Theater
The Abbey and Peacock Theaters were next on our list. We found out that they are housed in the same building. The Abbey Theater is the National Theater of Ireland and was started by W.B. Yeats.
Our next stop was a memorial recognizing the names of those who were killed in the Dublin and Monaghan bombings of 1974. These bombings were conducted by the Ulster Volunteer Force (UVF), a loyalist paramilitary group. The 33 people who were killed and the 300 injured in these bombings marks the highest number of casualties experienced in one day during The Troubles.
Memorial listing the names of 1974 bombings
From the memorial, we moved toward the Docklands to admire the mix between modern architecture and historical buildings. The ship, the Jeanie Johnston docked just up river from the newly constructed Samuel Beckett Bridge illustrate a perfect juxtaposition of the blending of past and present. The ship was used to bring the starving Irish to America during the famine.
Samuel Beckett Bridge
Jeanie Johnston
Not too far from the ship is the famine memorial. These statues are taller than 6 feet, and their long drawn out figures give them an even taller appearance.
Famine Memorial
Our final task was to take a team picture, so Danny and I took one on the bridge.
It was a bit windy....
In the end, we presented our scavenger hunt findings to the group in an awesome Power Point presentation and were voted as the winners. But even more awesome was the fact that our Program Director decided to let everyone in the group participate in the prize: a traditional music pub crawl. I'll definitely post about that when it happens! And to wrap up this post, I'll leave with some awesome graffiti we found near the Docklands. Pretty darn creative if you ask me!
My classroom is
located at 20 Dominick Street in the city center. SIT rents from Youth Work
Ireland, an organization that works with young people through different
projects that facilitate social, creative, and educational development. Youth
Work Ireland owns a four-story building at the end of a long block of identical
structures. The Dominick family constructed the street in the 1750’s and in the
18th century it was known to be a fashionable section of Dublin.
Google Earth picture of 20 Dominick Street. First red door from the right.
The very first
time I pushed opened the heavy Georgian door and climbed the stairs to the
second floor I was in awe. The walls are cream colored from floor to ceiling,
broken up by decorative molding along the edges of the room. But beyond the
two-dimensional plane of the walls, there are pairs of large birds, wings
raised ready for flight, framed by the curls and flourishes of raised plaster. The
patterns continue from the hallway into our own classroom and throughout the
building. Click on the pictures to enlarge and see more detail!
Front door
Second floor hallway ceiling
Panoramic view of the hallway ceiling
Birds are a signature of this particular artist.
Our classroom
View of the street from our classroom
However the
building has a much darker past, despite the incredibly restored beauty it now
possesses. During the famine (1845-1852), the house was sub-divided, becoming a
dwelling for 30 or 40 families. At some point (date TBD) the Dominick Street
area housed many soldiers from the British army helping brew the perfect
environment for prostitution. The house was used as an orphanage until 1960.
Today in 2013 Dominick Street is home to many low-income families.
Cars and buses
race by and people talk on their cell phones right next to iron gates and heavy
wooden doors that are centuries old. I just love the way in which bits and
pieces of history have intertwined harmoniously with modern day.
