Author: kclark23

My time in Ireland is coming to an end. After nearly three months in this country, and two weeks of cultural immersion in the Gaeltacht, I feel I’ve gained a decent understanding of how the Irish culture functions. The differences between Irish and American cultures are subtle; there is a reason why it is so easy for Americans to visit Ireland and vice versa. The fact that many Americans come from Irish heritage certainly plays no small part in this cultural understanding, too.

That said, there are some metrics where Ireland has different attitudes than I was used to. For one, Ireland has a very low power distance, meaning that hierarchy is generally established for convenience and those higher on the totem pole are easily accessible. Leaders aren’t worshiped; they’re respected, and only when they’ve earned it. This could be seen in my workplace over the summer months, where managers and employees would frequently converse on equal footing, even going out for meals and drinks as peers. In my language classes, too, my teachers often offer to buy me a drink at the Ríleán, a behaviour I would not expect in an American school. Those in positions of power speak quite casually, and there’s a general understanding that everyone is human.

Secondly, the Irish have a different concept of time. Each night at my language program, there is an evening event scheduled for 8pm. Each night, that event did not start until 8:15 at the earliest. In the grand scheme of things, 15 minutes does not make a big difference. However, I was raised to expect scheduled events to start at the time they were scheduled for, and it took me a bit to adjust to “Irish Time,” as I’ve often heard it referred to.

Overall, though, I’ve found that Ireland is not so different from the States. I think it is important to remember that cultures are made up of individuals, and any cultural observation is a huge generalization. People do not think or act as a collective; we each have access to our own consciousness, and our own consciousness only. Perhaps that’s just my American individualism speaking, though.

I’ve had a wonderful time here. My language skills have improved immensely; my confidence and understanding in conversations has increased ten-fold, and I’ve made some lovely friends to continue speaking Irish with after I go home. I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity, and I will hold Gleann Fhinne in my heart forever. Beidh mé ar áis, lá éigin…

The social scene in Gleann Fhinne revolves around the tavern, An Ríleán. As the only bar for miles in any direction, it serves as the communal watering hole for the residents of this valley. I’ve frequently spent my evenings conversing with the locals and my classmates at the Ríleán, and the place has become a familiar stop in my daily routine. Usually, the venue is relatively quiet, even on weekend nights; it consists of only two small rooms, just large enough to house the local and Oideas Gael crowd.

One day, as we were approaching the teach tábhairne after the day’s activities, we noticed the Ríleán was a lot more lively than usual. Inside, we found a strange fusion of groups. For one, there had recently been a death in the neighborhood (an old lady who had been living in hospice – not an unexpected tragedy, but very sad all the same), and there was a crowd of well-dressed friends and family members who presumably had just come from the wake. Secondly, there was a crew of birthday-partiers. Part of the wall had been decorated with “Happy 50th!” posters and streamers and the like, and one middle-aged (50?) man was laughing at the bar with several friends and pints surrounding him. Thirdly, a crew of high school aged teens who had just completed their final exams were dancing heartily in the center of the room. Finally, us – a slew of language learners visiting from places all around the world.

It was one of the oddest and most fun nights I’ve experienced here so far. Though every person was there for different reasons, they were brought together in the same small tavern. Hearing everyone’s stories and verifying my initial interpretations of the separate parties gave some insight onto the Irish way of life – that commemorating death means celebrating life. Whether you’re coming from a birthday party or a funeral, everyone ends up at the same tavern for some good craic.

There is a common stereotype of incredible Irish hospitality. Truly, anyone who has spent time in the country will be made well acquainted with the concept. It is impossible enter an Irish household without receiving several offerings of food, lodging, and go leor cupáin tae. Kindness towards strangers and travelers is well integrated into the culture.

However, I was speaking with a woman from Dublin this summer who had an interesting perspective on this. She claimed that these hospitable offerings are made out of obligation, not out of generosity, and that accepting them may actually be deemed rude. She said that there is a societal pressure to offer that cup of tea, even if one does not want to give it. I’ve carried that notion in the back of my mind since coming to Gleann Fhinne. My Bean an Tí is constantly offering me food and drink, and I often decline in fear that she is only offering out of politeness. I’m coming to realize, though, that that Dubliner’s auto-stereotype is not applicable to the entirety of Ireland.

This week, I discovered that my language teacher is a sailor. Being an avid sailor myself, I struck up a conversation with him about it as Gaeilge. We got to talking for quite a while, and he ended up inviting me to sail in a regatta in Derry this weekend. He arranged a crew position for me as well as accommodation and travel. Sadly, the weather took a turn for the worse, and the commodore called off the race. However – his invitation was not an empty offer of obligation, but of genuine kindness and shared interest. He went above and beyond to get me a spot on a boat.

Again – I was visiting a friend staying at another house in the area, and his host mother offered me dinner. I tried to politely decline, as I was planning on leaving before dinner time anyway. She simply would not take no for an answer, though, and she made me a burger whether I wanted it or not.

The level of generosity I’ve received in the Gleann is astounding and inspiring, and I think it is a good case study on the nuances of cultural stereotypes.

My time in Gleann Fhinne thus far has been a whirlwind of new experiences, places, and people. Though I’ve only been here for four days, I feel I’ve already gathered a month’s worth of stories and lessons.

The Gleann itself is a truly beautiful place. I’m greeted each morning by a tapestry of rolling, green hills, hugged tightly by a blanket of grey mist that drips into the valley and shrouds the surrounding Bluestack mountains in mystery. Flocks of sheep and cattle are sprinkled throughout the terrain, and the occasional moo is the only sound to interrupt the muffled breeze that glides through the trees. It is, in my opinion, the definition of peace.

The town of Gleann Fhinne – if you can call it a town – consists only of one pub, one school, and a few farms. My residence for the next two weeks is at one of these farm houses, with a lovely ‘bean an tí’ and several other students who, like me, have traveled to Donegal to improve their Irish. While I am taking language classes at the school, I believe I am learning the most at the house. It’s one thing to go to class and learn a language; it’s another to live in a home where the language is used and thriving.

After living in Dublin for some time, I’ve become relatively familiar with the subtleties of Irish culture. When I first came to this country, however, there were a few small “critical moments” that caught me off guard. For example, the use of the phrase “are you okay?” (“an bhfuil tú ceart go leor?” as Gaeilge). In America, I’ve only heard that question asked when there is a preceding assumption that the subject is not, in fact, okay. So, when shopkeepers and barkeeps repeatedly asked me, “are you okay?”, I felt the need to get to a mirror and examine myself. Did I look sick? Upset? Nope. I soon realized that, in Ireland, the question is used more casually. It is simply an equivalent to, “can I help you?”, as a retailer might ask a patron who wanders into their store. Even here, in the Gaeltacht, the phrase “ceart go leor” has been used quite constantly as a question and as a response.

Small differences like that pop up on occasion. Overall, though, the transition to the Irish lifestyle is going quite smoothly. I am excited to see what adventures these next few days bring.