Musings

I apologize for the randomness of this post. I have no important updates, so instead I give you the musings of my mind.

Spring has sprung here in Northern Ireland. Trees are growing bright green leaves, and others have blossomed brilliant shades of pink. Even beneath an overcast sky, the colours leap out into the world. I never knew there were so many shades of green. Birds are singing more merrily than ever, even in the rain. There is hope for new life in this country.

Yesterday, I was working with a horseback riding program for disabled children. One of the kids found out I was from the States and said, “You’re from America! Do you ever see any Indians?” I had to giggle a little bit. I’ve run into other misconceptions about life in the U.S. – things like a failure to realize just how big the country is, thinking Washington state is the same as Washington D.C., misunderstandings of our political system, and so on. But never a question about Indians.

I have three months left here. This thought has been weighing on a lot of YAV’s minds lately, both here in Belfast and at various sites around the world. It seems like a very short time, and it’s not particularly. The end is in sight, and that is both exciting and scary. I’m trying not to think about it too much.

Word of the Week: Marching season. This is the time between about April and July. During the marching season, both Loyalist and Nationalist bands (mostly flute and drum) turn out to march through community streets as part of frequent parades. As one Dubliner put it, “In Northern Ireland, it goes: January, February, March, march, march, march.” These parades are sectarian in nature, and well attended by both locals and police (to ensure safety). In the past, parades have intentionally gone through the opposite community (Loyalists passing through Nationalist areas and vice versa) and met with some violent opposition, but they are well-regulated now and this is not a common occurrence anymore.