There and back again!

Today we journey home to share what we have learned. It has been such a great adventure together. It is hard to express the mixed emotions one feels when your journey has come to an end, but these quotes somehow impart a sense of how we feel:


The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land. ~ G.K. Chesterton


Like all great travellers, I have seen more than I remember, and remember more than I have seen. ~ Benjamin Disraeli


I have found out that there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them. ~ Mark Twain


I met a lot of people in Europe. I even encountered myself. ~ James Baldwin

Shopping, Gael, Shopping, and Shopping, (Oh, and Riverdance)

Our correspondent today is Tom Wintering:

This morning, our last full morning in Ireland, we had the opportunity to finally eat food that hadn’t been deep fried, buttered, or, well, included beans (yes, apparently in Ireland, baked beans are customary in the Ulster fry). Several of us, myself included, felt so excited to be eating regular food that we even tried the blood sausages offered by the Jurys Inn breakfast buffet.

When we had completely stuffed ourselves, we set off for Trinity College, located several blocks from Jurys, where we planned on meeting up with the Belli family to see the Book of Kells. For those of you who have not heard of this extraordinary work of art (it truly is a work of art), it dates back to around the 9th century C.E. The Book of Kells is an illuminated manuscript containing the four Gospels and is filled with ornate artwork painstakingly penned by Celtic monks. While at Trinity College, we learned that, contrary to what we had believed, when a monk made a mistake on any page, whether it was a simple grammatical error or a sentence misplaced, the monk would draw in a figure, perhaps a lion for St. Mark or an ox for St. Luke, over the mistake. One would never know that these drawings camouflaged mistakes, each so beautifully made. We then proceeded to the second floor of the exhibit where Trinity College had an exhibit on Napoleon with some of the manuscripts displayed dating back hundreds of years.

We next walked the couple blocks to Dublin Castle. Here, we were supposed to take a tour together but, due to the two hour-long wait, we opted to skip the tour and instead begin our day of shopping. While the rest of the group set off together, Mr. Bizga, Ms. Duarte, Ryan, and I hopped onto the hop-on, hop-off bus and drove to Kilmainham Gaol (Jail) to see where Irish nationalists and other prisoners were held and executed during the mid-19th century and early 20th centuries. We learned that during the Great Hunger (the Great Potato Famine) many people would intentionally commit a crime so that they could go to jail, where food and shelter had to be provided. At one point there were over 20,000 prisoners in the 100 cell jail. The tour guide also informed us of the procedure for public executions; before a person was executed, they went to mass. After mass, the person, man, woman, or child, was led through a door behind the altar and across a bridge to the outside wall of the jail where they were publicly executed. One story that drew the attention of everyone on the tour was of a man sentenced to death. This man, the Irish patriot Joseph Mary Plunkett, insisted on getting married to his love, who was not in jail, before he was killed. The government acquiesced and the marriage went through. They were given ten minutes to spend together after the ceremony, during which time they were surrounded by armed guards, to say their goodbyes. The prisoner was then taken away and executed; his bride never married another man after her husband was killed. We learned that children were also incarcerated, some of whom had committed crimes, others whose parents were imprisoned, thus requiring the children to stay in jail. In a small courtyard, the children had to march in a circle with their eyes down and mouths closed for upwards of three hours each day. This short time outside of the prison was their only time spent outdoors.

When the tour was over, the four of us got a taxi, not wanting to wait for the hop-on, hop-off bus again, and drove back into the inner city. Here, Ms. Duarte left us, leaving Mr. Bizga, Ryan, and me to wander the shops together.

The first shop we entered was essentially a shop for the aging men of Dublin as it was filled with tweed coats and canes. Because of our youthful ages, the shop owner seemed quite surprised that we had entered the shop, and even more surprised when I bought a shillelagh. After leaving the old-timers’ shop, we walked until we found the best clothing store (well, it was the best according to Mr. Bizga) in the vicinity – Thomas Pink. The reason for our search to find this “best clothing store” was that Ryan had saved all of the money he had brought on the trip for one thing, an extremely expensive tie (yes, I agree, this is a bit, well, interesting). When we had purchased said tie, we continued down the street, stopping to get a reservation for dinner at Fire before Riverdance. While walking, my shillelagh swinging at my side, an Irishman and a teenager came up to us, the man commenting, “Hey, that’s a nice, big stick you’ve got there!” and then proceeding to ask us if we wanted to come to a bible study that afternoon. As we responded, in our American accents, that we simply couldn’t because we were going to Riverdance, the man’s expression turned from one of questioning to one of utter shock (it seems that he thought we were Dubliners, not Americans). He said a kind goodbye, and then he and the boy power-walked on down the street. After several minutes of laughing, we continued in the opposite direction. We then spent the next several hours shopping, walking, and talking, until we separated, Ryan meeting up with the rest of the group, while Mr. Bizga and I went back to the hotel-- Mr. Bizga to update the blog, and I to begin writing postcards to everyone back in the states.

Later, when the rest of the group had returned to the hotel, we all walked to Fire for dinner before going to the theater. After a wonderful dinner and an even better dessert (Bailey’s Irish Cream ice cream = heaven), we ran to the theater, only minutes before the performance began. Luckily, we made it in time for the show. The next three hours were a blur of feet and of time, ending far too soon. After the show we walked back to the hotel, stopping at several pubs (not to drink, just to listen to the live music) along the way.

Back at the hotel, everyone went to their separate rooms… except for Mr. Bizga and me. I realized that I had not purchased stamps for the postcards I had spent all afternoon writing. We ran to the nearest late-night convenience store, praying that they would be open and would have international stamps. When we had purchased the stamps and made it back to the hotel, we followed the example of the rest of the group and went to bed, sad that it was our last night in Ireland but ready for our departure early in the morning.

Here is a brief addendum from Ryan Belmore:

Thank the Lord for fresh fruit and for the absence of the Ulster fry. Our breakfast was (finally) comestible. The croissants and cantaloupe compensated for the Barista’s inexplicable absence (why wouldn’t the businessmen staying there want espresso?). Nevertheless, we walked with full stomachs to Trinity College and the Book of Kells, a bible known for its calligraphy and imagery scripted in the Dark Ages. The book itself was informative in that it showed the group’s self-professed “Latin Scholars” how little Latin they knew.

Leaving the manuscript and the slew of international tourists, we progressed to the Dublin Castle where Mr. Bizga distributed our “Hop on, Hop off” bus tickets and unleashed us on the town. I’m unsure where the others dispersed to, but the teachers, Tom, and I went to Kilmainham Gaol (where the British kept Irish “traitors”) and toured the dank, supposedly “reformed” jail. After returning to the city center via cab, Ms. Duarte left us to do some shopping on her own. We followed Mr. Bizga to get a taste of the “simple” life – la vida Bizga.

In fairness to the other members of our group, I will not enumerate my day’s activities because they surely have their own stories to tell. Our pre-theater dinner at Fire was, per Mr. Bizga’s request, simple and palatable. We ran (literally) to the theater with just barely enough time to sit before Riverdance started. Mr. Bizga purchased horrible tickets in the ninth row; we could see nothing but the entire stage. After the show we took pictures of Sarah’s and Gabby’s outrageously fake eyelashes outside before heading back to the hotel and into bed. Tomorrow at dawn we will depart for home.

Update

We are in Dublin right now having a wonderful time. More updates are coming shortly...

Dublin & the Peacemaker

Our morning correspondent is Patrick Burke:

This morning was probably the least eventful morning we have had on our trip. It consisted of waking up, going to eat breakfast, and finishing the packing process. We then took the Mercedes bus to the Belfast bus station. The ride to Dublin seemed to go by very quickly, probably because I thought it would be a great opportunity to catch up on some sleep.

There is really not much to say about the bus ride, but we finally arrived to Dublin. Everybody was looking forward to seeing the Republic of Ireland; for many of us it was our first time. Dublin is significantly larger than Belfast, and I realized the differences between the two cities right away. Dublin has a lot more diversity, with many more cultures and different ethnicities. We really did not do much besides the bus ride and just settle into the hotel. Jayson and I lucked out as we found out that our room was much larger than anybody else’s.

Everybody had a terrific time in Belfast. I loved the city because it isn’t as big as Dublin. The prices in Belfast are very reasonable compared to the prices of Dublin. It is said that Dublin is the most expensive capital in Europe. Other than the prices, Dublin looks like a great city and I cannot wait to experience it.

After we settled into the hotel, we walked to an Italian restaurant in the Temple Bar area of Dublin. The restaurant was called Luigi Malone’s which offers an interesting menu of Italian, Irish and continental dishes. As we were walking there, we were offered a coupon for free refreshments along with our meal. Mr. Bizga didn’t hesitate to accept. We had a great lunch there. This afternoon we would meet Fr. Reid.

Our afternoon correspondent is Daniel Bizga:

I have an anonymous quote hanging over my desk and it reads: “I guess I am learning little by little that we decide what are lives are going to be, things happen to us, but it is our reaction that matters.” This quote reminds me that I cannot control what life sends my way; but the way I react to life’s twists and turns can make all the difference. This afternoon we had an opportunity to interact with an individual who has illustrated this point to me in a most powerful way. His story and life’s work has shown me that my response to my circumstances can have far reaching effects. It is the story of the true hero of the Irish peace process: Fr. Alex Reid.

Alex Reid is from Tipperary in the south of Ireland. As a young man, he entered the Redemptorist Community. In the mid 1960’s he was transferred to the Redemptorist community in Belfast, Northern Ireland. Since 1897 the Redemptorists have had a presence in Belfast. Their main house, Clonard Monastery, is nestled in West Belfast not too far off the Falls Road. The Falls Road is famous for its colorful political murals that graphically tell the story of the last thirty years. Today Clonard Monastery is situated next to a barrier euphemistically called “the peace line” that divides the Nationalist (Catholic) community of the Falls Road area from the Loyalist (Protestant) community of the Shankill Road. In 1969, the rising tension between the divided communities broke and Belfast became immersed in turmoil and violence.

In order to understand the story of Fr. Reid, you first have to understand Northern Ireland. Northern Ireland was formed in 1922 when Ireland was partitioned. It was formed out of the six of the nine counties of the province of Ulster to ensure a Protestant majority in government. The Protestant majority referred to themselves as unionist: they preferred to maintain political union with Britain. The Catholic minority was called nationalist: they would prefer to be part of a united Irish Republic. From the time of partition, the unionist majority government passed repressive laws to ensure that Protestant hegemony. The Northern Irish Parliament in 1922 passed the Special Powers Act, which gave authorities far reaching powers to arrest and hold without trial or the right to legal counsel people who were considered enemies of the state. This act paved the way for political, economic, suppression of the nationalist minority. The situation has many parallels to the American south before the US Civil Rights movement. In spite of this repression there were some positive laws that led to limited social mobility. In the 1940’s access to public funds for education were opened to all communities: unionist and nationalist. By the 1960’s an educated nationalist underclass began a civil rights movement with great inspiration from our own US Civil Rights movement. It is into this context that Fr. Reid entered into in the mid 1960’s.

The nationalist civil rights movement was well intentioned but met with Unionist disdain. In a short period of time the entire Northern Irish state was drawn into a period of 30 years of domestic warfare that would become known to the world as “the Troubles.” Within the Nationalist community dissident groups formed in armed resistance to state repression: the Irish Republican Army (IRA), the Irish National Liberation Army (INLA), the Official IRA etc. All of the nationalist groups who would resort to violence to achieve their political aims were grouped together in a larger movement called Republicanism. Republican groups were condemned by the Catholic Church without any comment on the state violence and political repression that had been the catalyst of nationalist anger. No Church leaders would speak to any of the Republican groups unless they renounced violence.

The situation in Belfast in the early 1970’s would be reminiscent of scenes out of the contemporary conflict in Iraq today. The city was plagued with daily bombings, shootings and raw sectarian violence. The Falls Road area, near Clonard Monastery, was brought to its knees under the guise of securing the peace. One would see bombed out building and debris everywhere. British Armed Forces moved up the streets in armored personal carriers in an attempt to restore security. A system of road blocks were set up around the city and invasive checks of pedestrians became everyday occurrences. Homes were randomly searched for terrorists and many innocent men were imprisoned without charges or due legal process. No aspect of life was left untouched by the conflict that was to engulf the six counties of Northern Ireland for the next thirty years. It is into this situation that Fr. Reid would feel called to go out into the streets beyond the enclosure of Clonard Monastery to engage with the men who perpetrated acts of violence in order to take any step he could to save lives.

Fr. Reid learned a valuable lesson on the streets of Belfast - the key to the peace process was listening. He believes that it was the grace of God that motivated him to go out to the streets and find out what was causing such instability. By actively seeking the answers his approach to peacemaking was crystallized. He became convinced that one can never fully grasp the extent of a conflict by reading about it. One must go down to the cold face of the conflict and listen to those who are at its heart. When people share their story you learn what motivates them fight. Only engaging in dialogue with EVERYONE involved will you uncover the root causes of the conflict. He also became convinced that no party involved in a conflict has all of the truth. Every party has some of the truth; but no party has all of the truth. The role of the peacemaker is to listen for the truth. The solution will arise when the peacemaker searches in the right spirit. The path to peace will become clearer when all parties are involved. He realized that violence was the effect of injustice. Only when the root causes were identified and addressed could the path to peace become evident.

In the 1970’s the Nationalist community saw divisions within itself causing internal feuds to break out. Fr. Reid became a “last resort” for many that were tearing each other apart. A young man would “disappear” and his family would come to Clonard to see what Fr. Reid could do. Very often he succeeded in having a “death sentence” lifted and an exile imposed instead. These were the most desperate of times and “informers” to the British were summarily executed. Fr. Reid took whatever small steps he could take to save lives. As a result of his involvement, he gradually won the respect of the Republican leadership as a man who could be trusted. He told them that Christ loved them each unconditionally. Nothing they could do could separate them from the love of Christ – even though Christ was pained by their actions. He conveyed to them a theology that was alien to them. Gerry Adams had gone to Clonard Monastery as a boy and he was moved by the humility, love, and patience of Fr. Reid. Fr. Reid sees him as a true catalyst for peace in Ireland.

While the official Catholic Church remained distant, Fr. Reid remained in dialogue with the men of violence and tried to convince the IRA that there was a peaceful alternative. Fr. Reid was and is convinced that no matter how hopeless a situation looks, there is always a peaceful way forward. He persisted in his quest for the alternative despite years of ongoing violence. Although his words at times seemed to fall on deaf ears’ he never gave up. The conflict itself opened his eyes to seeing a way forward. Out of the conflict he was able to gain insight into a way forward. He devised a plan to bring about conditions that would allow space for a peaceful alternative. He established contact with the Irish Taoiseach (Prime Minister) Mr. Albert Reynolds. Fr. Reid convinced Reynolds that the IRA was thinking about the future, but could not be persuaded to give up their campaign of violence unless there was significant dialogue with the Irish Government. Reynolds, a businessman and a pragmatist, wanted to engage in dialogue but realized that this would be political suicide. He cleverly appointed Dr. Martin Mansergh to be his Official Advisor on Northern Ireland and allowed him to conduct exploratory talks at the auspices of Fr. Reid. In the meantime Fr. Reid was reaching out to the constitutional nationalists of the Social Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP), the political party founded by John Hume that is committed exclusively to peaceful means to achieve a united Ireland. Fr. Reid realized that he first had to unite the divided nationalist communities before peace between the nationalist and unionist communities could ever occur.

While all of these secret steps toward peace, were taking place the violence seemed to escalate and should have led him to despair. Fr. Reid personally witnessed three murders in the Milltown (Catholic) Cemetery in Belfast when a lone Loyalist gunman opened fire on the mourners of three IRA volunteers who were assassinated unarmed in Gibraltar. Three days later, he would plead with the killers of two armed, plain clothed British soldiers who were close to the funeral procession of one of the fallen Milltown mourners. Despite his pleas for mercy, the soldiers were both shot in the head. Fr Reid anointed them as they lay dying before him. Fr. Reid was carrying a document from the Irish Government under his arm to give to one of the IRA leadership at the funeral. The soldiers’ blood had splattered on him and the document. He handed it to the IRA contact saying, “This document is stained with British blood.”

This event left him shaken; however, he was more determined than ever to persist in his quest for peace. He intensified his efforts to end the all too real cost of this conflict. He eventually was able to get Gerry Adams, the leader of the Sinn Fein, the nationalist political party closely allied with the IRA, and John Hume, the leader of the SDLP, to agree to meet. This meeting was politically risky for both of them. The resulting dialogue was not easy and took several years to complete; however it successfully led to the Hume/Adams Agreement. This agreement led to the IRA cease-fire, which has become permanent. The day before the cease-fire was announced, Fr. Reid drove to Dublin to the Taioseach’s home to deliver the news to Reynolds that the IRA cease-fire would be announced the next day. Albert Reynold’s passed the news onto John Major, the British Prime Minister that night. John Major retorted that all his intelligence reports pointed to escalation. Yet, the next morning at 11 am the cease-fire was announced.

Through our time in Ireland and our Program Coordinator, Raymond Lennon, a longtime friend of Fr. Reid, we have been able to discover the true “behind the scenes” history of the Irish Peace Process. Its catalyst was a humble, Catholic priest from Tipperary. Our summer program brought our students into contact with key players, from all sides, of the peace process. At a previous encounter with Gerry Adams one student asked what role Fr. Reid played in the peace process. Adams quickly answered, “Fr. Reid is the HERO of the peace process. Without him we would have no peace.” Our group was greatly privileged to meet with Fr. Reid for two hours where he spoke candidly and took questions.

Fr. Reid is an unlikely hero of biblical proportions. This soft spoken, shy Irish priest is a most unlikely hero. His personal response to the dire circumstances made all the difference and changed the world. His faith working through love transformed the lives of the men of his age and his society. His message was simply the Gospel at its core; but so often left untried. His life and story show us that dialogue is the only way to settle intense political conflicts in a just and democratic way. War and violence are symptoms are not a constructive part of the solution. Today Fr. Reid continues his work for peace in the Basque region of Spain.

LOL to Orangefest: traditions in transition

No culture can live, if it attempts to be exclusive.

~ Mahatma Gandhi

What sets worlds in motion is the interplay of differences, their attractions and repulsions.

~ Octavio Paz

Our morning correspondent is Jessica Coleman:

We woke up on this beautiful morning anticipating a big day. Today was the day of the controversial Orange parades commemorating the victory of King William over James II. James II was a Catholic who attempted to become an absolute monarch by dissolving Parliament. Parliament wanted to limit the power of the English monarchs and would not accept their suspension lying down. They invited his son in law William of Orange, a Protestant, to be their king on the condition that he would accept a more limited role as king. William accepted and the power struggle between them played out on Irish soil. William finally defeated James at the Battle of the Boyne and assumed the throne in England.

As we rose from our beds, sleepy but eager to see the spectacle, we inhaled the delicious aroma of crepes. We hurried to the kitchen to receive our share, filling each crepe with raspberry and pineapple preserves. Mr. Bizga and Ms. Duarte further enhanced our morning feast with Mexican eggs mixed with peppers and onions. It was by far and without competition the best breakfast so far!

We started the long (and still not finished…oops) process of packing up for our move to Dublin. During our packing and search for many lost articles of clothing and accessories, we readied ourselves to observe the Orange Marches.

A short walk from our dorm took us to Lisburn Road where Northern Ireland’s largest parade would pass. When we arrived, the various groups of marchers, called “lodges,” were taking a break. After about five minutes, the marches resumed. Each man wore an orange sash outlined in purple with gold fringe around his neck. Each sash said LOL for Loyal Orange Lodge and had a number designating the specific lodge. Sarah pointed out that it was like Girl Scouts, except on a larger and much more mature scale.

Each LOL was introduced with a banner picturing a virtue representing the motto of their lodge. Often spotted were character traits such as “temperance” or “abstinence.” Following the car or people carrying these banners were the members of that lodge. Each lodge rents a traditional flute and drum band that marches behind them. The ages of the men marching in the Orange Order were older, mostly men in their fifties and sixties. The bands, however, were much more youthful with the average member around 20. It was ironic to see banner after banner proclaiming temperence to the assembled spectators who in return were toasting them with alcohol. It should be noted, however, that this was most definitely a family event for people of all ages. A few baton twirlers were as young as six while some men were too old to march and followed, waving to the spectators, in a cab.

The parade was interesting in many aspects. Although my overall notion of Northern Ireland is that it is socially progressive, this parade was not. For example, the demographic of the marchers was predominantly older men. We did see two or three groups of only women, but these generally represent support groups for the lodges. Recent news headlines recorded the declining number of members of the Orange Order. This was reflected in the parade, as some lodges had but three members. The parade, much to everyone’s disappointment, did not consist of candy throwing and fun floats reminding us of the parades of our childhood. Also, the bands did not play any modern melodies, but restrained their tunes to traditional Orange folksongs. The parade was much different than most similar spectacles in the States.

Nevertheless, it was an amazing opportunity to immerse ourselves with the Protestant community during their marching season. As the lodges marched past, loved ones followed after. We came across some people from the Lower Castlereagh Community Group and said our goodbyes after promising to stay in touch. We later saw Gareth’s brother who recognized us from helping at the bonfire festival two nights before. Like any small town in the States, if you stand on a street in Belfast long enough, you’re bound to see someone you know. Because of our friendly relations with both communities, this is certainly true in our case! A friend of ours from the nationalist community used us an excuse to observe the parade.

We will terribly miss Belfast and all of the amazing people who took time out of their equally hectic lives to meet us. We can’t wait to see Dublin, but we won’t forget anything we have learned or experienced here! I know I speak for everyone here that we miss everyone at home as well!! –Me!

Our afternoon correspondent is Gabrielle Belli:

We left the parades, and most of us went back to the dorms while Pat and Ryan went out shopping for a little bit with Mr. Bizga. All of us at home needed to catch up on homework, yet again. Sonja came into my room, as usual, and we read together for a few hours. While I finished Reading in the Dark, Sonja ended up falling asleep for a good half hour in my bed. I think if everyone had the opportunity for free time like that, we would all sleep. It’s been a very long trip.

A weight was lifted off our shoulders after we had our final classes in the dorms. Ms. Duarte gave us a reading quiz on the book, and we did a couple of exercises in preparation for our final paper. Our assignment is to write a poem solely with lines from the book that exemplifies a theme or character in the novel. The paper won’t be due until after we get home, much to our relief. We then talked to Mr. Bizga about our 200-point final exam that we would hopefully take in early August and the guidelines of the final paper.

A few of us went back to our rooms to finish homework and begin packing while some people started dinner. For the first time ever, I actually packed up early; I finished packing within an hour on my own. Mom and Dad, I hope you’re proud of me. I only had to use one more duffel bag in addition to my 75-pound suitcase to fit everything. Plus, I had something to look forward to.

Tonight was pasta night! I could eat pasta five days a week and be perfectly content. It was a great last meal. We had penne with red sauce, homemade meatballs, salad, and a cool French tomato salad Mr. Bizga made. I wasn’t brave enough to eat it, though. One of the main ingredients is Dijon mustard, and here in Northern Ireland Dijon mustard is closer to wasabi than regular Dijon. However, I made up for the lost side dish with about a pound of meatballs. We sang during dinner and cleanup as usual. Tonight’s playlist was filled with classics like Elton John and the Beatles.

Packing up was next on our to-do list. We wrapped all the kitchen supplies in newspaper and bagged them within 15 minutes. There was a little dilemma, though; we ran out of small plastic bags halfway through. But thanks to Mama Belli’s crafty packing skills, I had “Handy-Sacks” with me. According to the package, they have 101 uses, and apparently packing up a kitchen is one of them. We’ve all decided that there must be a Mrs. Belli store somewhere magical, because nobody can figure out where she buys things like that.

Much love from Belfast, for the last time- Gabrielle.

Quote of the day: “We used to always play fantasy land on my jungle gym. I was the black cat and she was the princess, and I always used to save her.” -Tom

From Castlereagh to Clonard

Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
no hands but yours, no feet but yours,

Yours are the eyes through which to look out
Christ's compassion to the world

Yours are the feet with which he is to go about doing good;

Yours are the hands with which he is to bless men now.

~ St. Theresa of Avila

Our morning correspondent is Sonja Schnell:

Our beautiful Sunday morning. Yes, it was actually sunny in Belfast as we walked to St. Brigid’s parish. We went to the 9:30 mass, and it was, to the delight of Jessica, much better than the one we attended last week. Our priest had a charismatic voice, and I believe that his homily spoke straight to the hearts of those individuals who encounter sectarian struggles in Ireland or anywhere in the world. He explained that the scriptures tell lay people to be present where the priests and bishops are not. He described lay people as the “salt of the earth,” those who are there on a daily basis to spread the word of God in place of the clergy. He declared that it was our duty to live God’s word in our own lives. He posed the Gospel as a challenge. He said it was a challenge to live the way that Jesus lived, to spread peace and goodwill and the Good News. His booming voice maintained my attention throughout the service, a great improvement over the mass last week. We walked out into the Irish sun with revived spirits and new outlooks on the situation in Northern Ireland yet again.

About half of the group headed to Roast coffee house after mass, while the rest of us simply walked to the dorms in order to work on our ever-growing piles of schoolwork. I cooked Gabby a quick breakfast, everyone split up to journal. Our scholarly attempts were cut short as we realized we needed to leave for Lower Castlereagh to clean up the mess from last night’s festival and for some community interaction. Although we could not do homework (what a shame) we were excited to see all of our friends again! Apparently they did not party hard enough the night before because, by the time we arrived at the Leisure Center, everything was clean! In my opinion, this showed a great display of the consideration the members of the community have for the land they were graciously allowed to use for the festival. Instead of cleaning first we were able to join the kids in the leisure center for, in the words of Ms. Duarte, “social interaction.”

This interaction, within about thirty seconds, turned into a football match. Surprisingly, the Americans were faring quite well with a close 2-1 game before we were called to an award ceremony for an influential member of the community. When we returned to the indoor field, our teams switched members slightly and an hour long game began. Jayson, Patrick, and I were the only Americans who partook, but we were a force to be reckoned with. The game has been one of my favorite experiences of the trip. Gareth and others joined in the fun, and we had a five vs. five feud. I received the nickname Donovan, a striker for the USA team, and being traded to join the community boys team, our long game ended with an unknown score and many exhausted players. Regardless of the heat and sweat, it was worth it to play with the community boys/men. It also helped that I had the opportunity to fake a few out with my mad soccer skills, and the rest of our group was there to watch ;)

After our goodbyes, which were laced with sadness as we have enjoyed our time there so much, we headed back to Queen’s for dinner. I am going to deeply miss everyone at the Lower Castlereagh Community Group. Every individual there was exceptionally welcoming and a ton of fun. I can only hope that we keep in touch. Michelle gave us her contact info as well as some parting gifts, so we can continue our relations with the group. I hope that everyone has the opportunity to see how amazing situations different from their own can be. I never would have expected to fall in love with the area I drove into on that first day, but now I can truly say that I have.

Our afternoon correspondent is Sarah Murray:

After returning home from Lower Castlereagh, we relaxed, read, and wrote journals. For dinner, Sonja and Mr. Bizga prepared a multi-cultural feast of tacos and pirogies. Sonja, Gabby, and I worked off the calories by learning hula moves from Jess. The lovely ladies danced almost nonstop until Raymond arrived.

Raymond and Ms. Duarte packed us into taxis, and we headed to Clonard Monastery, where Father Alec Reid, the orchestrator of peace talks between nationalist leaders, resided and held talks between important political figures such as Gerry Adams, leader of Sinn Féin, and John Hume, leader of the Social Democratic and Labor Party. Raymond, who knows literally everything, gave us a tour of the monastery where we learned about the artwork in the chapel. We were also educated about the history of the Redemptorists, whose mission is to help every disenfranchised person in the community. During the last week of June each year, a nine day Novena, which over 150,000 people attend, is held at Clonard.

In addition to knowing everything, Raymond is a master organ player and has played for Sunday mass at Clonard since he was quite young. He played a few pieces for us using his amazing skills. He allowed us to play for awhile, and Sonja and Pat displayed their own skills with "The Entertainer" while I, of course, showed off with a few classical and Beatles pieces. We eventually had to leave the organ and continue our tour. We then went behind the scenes and saw the secret back room in which they keep the holy wine and crackas.

Ray led us upstairs and showed us the Peace Wall right next to the monastery. In 1969, the two areas were seamless, but petrol bombs frequently destroyed houses in both communities when the Troubles began. These violent attacks prompted the government to erect the wall and install bomb- and fire-proof roofs on the houses adjacent to the wall. He also showed us where a young brother was shot on the upper floor of the monastery during the Irish Civil War in 1922. We went out to the garden where we saw the priests' lovely roses, hedges, and trees, then we were picked up by taxis and went home to Queens.

We didn't start the fire...

From little spark may burst a mighty flame.

- Dante Alighieri

Our correspondent today is Jessica Coleman:

We woke up this morning with only a half hour to get ready before classes. We had class with Ms. Duarte first. Tom and I created the most brilliant and “emo” found poem from the first chapter of Seamus Deane’s Reading in the Dark. We then had class with Mr. Bizga in which we discussed and defended our classification of Northern Ireland’s leaders according to the examples in Mark Gerzon's Leading Through Conflict. We identified examples from the situation in Northern Ireland of each type of leader: a demagogue, a mediator, and a manager.

After, we joined our friends at Castlereigh to help the festival run smoothly. We had relay and potato sack races and made crafts with the children. To everyone’s disappointment the rain that had been promised for weeks finally fell. The ladies and Tom, who was feeling ill, decided to return to the dorms to better prepare for the bonfire later tonight. The guys stayed behind with Mr. Bizga at the bonfire site. During our absence Mr. Bizga took them to see other bonfires in lower East Belfast. They reported that they were covered with sectarian images that would be offensive to the nationalist community. Back at Queen’s, we bundled up in our warmest clothes and waterproof jackets before meeting the boys at the bonfire.

Although the Lower Castlereagh Community Group encouraged their community to abstain from alcohol for the bonfire not many complied. Children as young as 12 years old joined in with the adults drinking from their individual liquor bottles. It was upsetting to think of the consequences of drinking so heavily, and in many cases, so early. The bonfire was lit about 45 minutes early in the heavy rain when a frenzy of petrol bombs were thrown into it. One caught at the top and the fire was lit. As the flames climbed and ate away at its top, the pallets at the very top began to slide. They collapsed after falling nearly 200 feet close to many bystanders. In the midst of the fire’s fury and the mass confusion, no one seemed disturbed, afraid, or unsafe. All of the friends we made were helping us stay safe from the immense heat and made sure that we kept a safe distance from the falling debris. Their compassion for all of us was heart warming.

Many attempts were made by the Lower Castlereagh Community Group (LCCG) to make this years bonfire a celebration of their culture; not a sectarian protest. For instance, the bonfire did not have the tri-color flag, the symbol of nationalist community at the top. They were the only bonfire in the area that did not fly and burn the flag, along with other symbols of the nationalist community, at the top. It was a very mature decision and proved their efforts to make it a community affair worthwhile. But, as with most things in Ireland, with every step forward, there is a step back. For instance, on the ride home, our taxi driver told us a story about how this is true. His taxi company is called East Belfast Taxis. East Belfast is traditionally Protestant, but when he drove his former customer through West Belfast, his car was attacked. A nationalist group of teenagers were hiding in the hedges and spotted the name of his taxi company. They threw bricks at it, threatening his life and that of everyone else in the cars. In Belfast, cab drivers have to supply their own car. Our driver had just bought this car two months ago.

His story illustrated to us how issues regarding the conflict are still very much unresolved even today. The more time I spend in the north of Ireland, the more I realize how complicated and deep-rooted the problem is. The fact that the Lower Castlereigh Community Group chose not to fly the tri-color at the top of the bonfire was promising, but until cab drivers can do their job without being in danger, there is an obvious issue that needs to be resolved.