Homestay

This weekend Arcadia arranged a homestay for all the students with different Irish families. My friend Dylan and I stayed with an Irish couple who lived in a rural area outside of Buttervant, Co. Cork. Undoubtedly the best experience I've had in Ireland so far.

The husband's name is Philip, and he's originally from a rural area outside of Dublin. He moved to Co. Cork years ago after he married Mary. Mary's family has a farm in the area, and her sister and her husband live just down the road from her. Most other family members of hers seemed to live in the area. Both Mary and Philip work in Cork city, a 45-minute commute.

After a late start Saturday, we were given a short tour of the family dairy farm. We saw the cows, which are pregnant right now, and the milking machines. Then, we went to a local public park in the area for a walk. The park was formerly an English estate. The park was beautiful and well-kept, but knowing the park's history can make the view a bit darker. Essentially, the land was taken by the English and then they gave the land to an English noble to rule. There was a huge manor house and a beautiful walk up to it. As Philip said, "Beautiful front yard to have. You can imagine riding your horse-drawn carriage up to it. Just make sure you kick the peasants out of your way." Everyone who worked on the estate was forced to live in a series of small houses in Buttervant, and the English ruler got the large estate house. Beating Irish peasants was common.

That being said, the whole area is still beautiful. The best part of my homestay came Saturday night. After dinner, we went to a local pub, O'Neill's, where we met up with the rest of the family. This pub was about as traditional as they come. It was also a small gorcery store, and you had to walk past the grocery area and open up a door in the back to get to the pub area. We then went to another pub. Philip warnedd me that there would be bad music, and that's an understatement. There was a singer who brought a synthesizer to play the accompanying music. I still can't get the synthesized Danny Boy out of my head. But even though the musi was bad, I still had a great time laughing with everyone about it, and it was great to have the experience. Then, we got a taxi back to the house. A family friend came over with a guitar, and we ended up staying up until the wee hours of the morning talking and singing. The experience was great, I felt like the family really bonded with Dylan and me. Their hospitality was touching.

Here's a special note for my mother. I was talking with an Irish man in O'Neill's about American perceptions of Ireland. He complained that American movies made images of Ireland that don't exist. I asked if Waking Ned Devine would be a good example, and he said, "Yeah, that movie is a load of shite!" I asked for another example of a stupid American characterization of Ireland and he mentioned The Quiet Man, accompanied by a finger in his mouth and a gagging expression. "Nothing like that ever existed!"