this is all anyone here asks me about

Photo courtesy of the Financial Times

"Ohh were you here when Obama was here?"

This is the question I always get when I tell Irish people that I'm from America (and ESPECIALLY when I tell them I'm a politics major working in the Dail - makes me a perfect target).

I always tell them, "No, but I did watch it on the news." To which I always hear some anecdote about how they tried to go see him, but the streets were too crowded, or they saw his car drive by, etc.

Ireland has caught a case of Obama fever.

It's understandable. If all you see is the media highlights of a young, inspiring man who is spouting the dream of "change we can believe in" and "yes we can." If you know the history of racism in America and this is our first African American president. So to anyone abroad, yeah, you would be excited that this kind of man was coming to visit YOUR country.

But maybe if they looked closer as to what was actually going on. Maybe if they saw that all he did on his visit was giving an inspiring speech with no real substance, no meat and potatoes (which the Irish love by the way), drank a pint of Guiness (and then declared that "the President pays his bar tab"), and played around with a hurling stick with Prime Minister Enda Kenny.

It was a whirlwind of a visit that was surrounded by the smoke and mirrors of excitement, press, and traditional Irish past times. Drink a pint of Guiness, wave around a hurling stick, and chant "yes we can" in Irish, and you got yourself a political visit.

But where was there any real policy discussed? Maybe a firm shaking of Kenny's hand, as Obama promised the United States will have a closer relationship with Ireland? But actions speak louder than words, and Obama's actions that day in Ireland left little to be trusted.

As this presidential rock star jetsetted away to another country, he left Ireland with some exciting memories, but no good 'ol fashioned meat and potatoes.

Father break my heart for what breaks Yours

Photo courtesy of Flickr

During my time in Ireland, I decided that I wanted to try to volunteer. I've always been interested in the plight of homeless people: how people become homeless, how do they survive, what are the stereotypes of homeless people and are they true?

My heart breaks when I see a homeless person asking for money on a street corner, and living in a city, you see that everyday. But then there is always the debate, well will they just use your money to go buy alcohol and drugs?

I honestly don't know. But I also don't think it's our place to judge that. We especially can't judge those outside of the faith. God can be the One to judge. He is the One who is omnipotent after all.

And how much am I really going to miss that loose change in my purse? Whether that homeless person uses it for alcohol or not, I'm not the worse off without it. But he might be that much better off with it.

God calls us to love. To love Him, and to love His creation. Who did Jesus spend most of His time with here on earth? It wasn't those who were socially considered to be the "right" kind of people. If so, he would have been hanging out with what we now see as the over-legalistic Sadducees and Pharisees. No, he spent time with prostitutes and tax-collectors. The lowest of the low. The poorest of the poor.

It's hard to see that God calls us to do the same. It's hard to step outside of our comfort zone. And it's not any easier for me, even though in my head, I know these people need my help and deserve my compassion.

So now I volunteer for an organization called Depaul Ireland, which runs several homeless shelters. The homeless shelter I work at is called a "wet hostel," meaning the residents are allowed to consume alcohol while they live there.

It's an interesting, innovative approach to combat homelessness that is also controversial. Most homeless shelters turn away the people Depaul Ireland accept. But maybe those are the people who need our help the most? Depaul puts their residents on a drinking plan and controls the amount of alcohol they consume every day. Their belief is that you have to lower the threshold and work with these people, understanding that alcoholism is a disease, instead of talking down to them.

My responsibilities are administrative work. I don't work directly with the residents, because you need a police background check, and I am not here long enough to really build relationships with them. But I have witnessed their interactions with other residents and volunteers.

It's so upsetting to see people get to the level that these residents are at. They do nothing with their lives except drink. It's amazing the lack of motor skills, daily functions, and mental capabilities they have. I saw one woman struggling to put gloves on without the help of a volunteer. Another had to be told to "hold it in" before she made it to the bathroom to pee. You have to coax them into taking a shower, and they wreak of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

My best summarization of them is they are honestly just "out of it." They really have no sense of how normal people live, what is socially acceptable, or what to even do with their lives. I hear the worst racist slurs being thrown at people, and fights over the most childish things. It's so sad to see people get like this. You just think: you all are supposed to be adults.

It's also extremely discouraging at times. You know that most of these people are so far gone that they will never leave this wet hostel, and they will be alcoholics for the rest of their lives. I feel suffocated at times with the smell of alcohol and cigarette around me. I feel dirty being surrounded by dirty people, and it makes me wish I could be back in my nice, professional office in Parliament, where everyone wears suits and greets you with a smile.

But there are the success stories. Like the men who sober up and are living in apartments on their own. And I also know this is meant to be an eye opening experience for me, and it's forcing me outside of my comfort zone.

I don't know what the answer is to help these people. But I thank God for people who have the patience to show them love and compassion day in and day out.

And I wouldn't have known any of this, if I hadn't stepped outside of my own little world.

Stopped at a red light looked out my window

Saw a cardboard sign said "Help this homeless widow"

Above that sign was the face of a human

I asked to myself "God, what have I been doing?"

So I rolled down the window and I looked her in the eye

Oh how many times have I just passed her by?

So I gave her some money then I drove on through

And my own little world reached

Population two

Blog post title - My Own Little World by Matthew West

what if there's a bigger picture? what if i'm missing out?

Two weekends ago, several of us took a tour bus to Northern Ireland for the day! We had to wake up really early, so early in fact that even the Dublin bus system didn't run early enough to get us to our tour bus, so I had made a reservation for a taxi van to pick us up that morning.

As we were all getting ready, the taxi company called me and asked if it was ok if they sent two taxi cabs instead of one van, to which I responded, sure! But Brian, one of the guys going with us, didn't realize this, and he immediately calls me as one taxi cab pulls up.

"Hey, there's only one taxi here, I thought you ordered a van?" he says.

He doesn't listen to my response as I try to explain to him the situation over the phone, and instead just turns straight to the taxi driver and bluntly says, "Hey. You're supposed to be a van."

I knew it would be a fun trip from right there.

As we arrive at the tour bus, they had trouble getting us all sorted into our right buses, because we all wanted to sit together. When the bus driver asked us where we're from, and we told him Virginia, he responded with "Ahh, the virgins!" and proceeded to call us that all day.

Thanks, Mr. Bus Driver. Thanks.

Our first destination was Carrick a rede rope bridge. While what the tour company highlights about this destination is the bridge you cross over, the real draw is the beautiful coastline. It's absolutely gorgeous! The water is so blue, similar to the Caribbean actually, which I couldn't believe!

Now the pictures from the tour company kept making a BIG deal outta this bridge. Like it was a huge, scary, rickety bridge that you crossed over open water to get his BIG thrill, to make you feel like some super adventurous world traveler.

Not.

This bridge was VERY underwhelming, and quite small. Clearly the pictures had been taken from far away for the brochure, to make it look like a long, scary bridge.

James, me, and Caroline crossing the supa scary bridge

Caroline said, "This has gotta be a joke."

To which I responded, "Can someone say TOURIST TRAP!?"

Which I think sums up that bridge well. But again, you're really there for the scenery, which is definitely worth it!

Next stop was Giant's Causeway - a natural phenomenon caused by volcanic ash that make the rocks by the coastline form perfectly geometric shapes. Or, if you'd prefer to believe the other story (which we did), the giant Finn McCool laid out the rocks to cross over to Scotland and defeat his enemy.

Creepy right?

As James aptly summarized, "Yeahhh, I'm believing the giant story over volcanic ash."

Me too.

Afterwards, we got to go into Belfast, the capital of Northern Ireland. We only got to spend an hour there though, because we ended up being pressed for time, but it was still cool to be able to see it!

Taking a quick shot from the tour bus of city hall

I later found out that right after we left Northern Ireland, several riots occurred throughout the country. It was due to the upcoming July 12 celebrations, which commemorate the Glorious Revolution of 1688 when William of Orange defeated the Catholic King James II of England, meaning England was now under Protestant control. That has always been what has come to be known as "The Troubles" between Ireland and Northern Ireland: Ireland is predominantly Catholic and wants to be independent,while Northern Ireland is predominantly Protestant and wants to be a part of the United Kingdom. Some groups, like the political party Sinn Fein, want a united Ireland, and the whole issue has been contested over for centuries. July 12 is a controversial celebration, causing the riots from the other weekend. It is interesting to see history come alive while I was there.

I had such a wonderful time exploring Northern Ireland, getting to see more of the Irish continent, experience more outside of my own little world of Virginia, as well as learn more about political issues in other nations.

What if there's a bigger picture?

What if I'm missing out?

What if there's a greater purpose, I could be living right now?

I don't wanna miss what matters

I wanna be reaching out

Show me the greater purpose

So I can start living right now

Outside my own little world

Blog post title - My Own Little World by Matthew West

be careful what you wish for cuz you just might get it

Source: thepurplebow.blogspot.com via Karlita on Pinterest

As I've mentioned before, my boss is very busy at work. His constituency is 3 hours away, and he has a parliamentary assistant, so it doesn't make sense for me to be doing constituency work from Dublin, even though it constitutes most of the work a TD has in Ireland.

That means that sometimes I am left in the dust. With so much on his mind, I think he tends to forget that I'm there, ready and willing to work. He doesn't necessarily have time to show me the ropes if he were to give me more work, so at times I felt stuck in quite an odd predicament.

One day I showed up to work with him nowhere to be found. I knew he was here, because his coat was here, but I didn't see him the whole day, and I had no work to do. I tried calling his constituency office to see where he was/what they wanted me to do, but no answer.

So I sat. and waited. read the news. read some blogs. just killing time.

I was thoroughly frustrated. I didn't come all this way and spend all this money to be sitting at a desk all by myself with nothing to do, I thought to myself. I was jealous of other interns' stories I would hear when I came back home. How they had made friends with their co-workers, went out to lunch with them, and were learning so much in their jobs and getting lots of experience.

In my frustration, I tried to calm myself and said a prayer. Lord, I don't know what You have in store for me with this trip, but I'm just gonna trust that You have it in control.

Not 20 minutes later did my boss come in a flurry of words, telling me that he had been away at a training course for new TDs all day, but he had done a lot of thinking about what he wanted me to do. He said he wanted me to get a valuable experience out of this trip, to be able to go back to America with something to say.

I just sat there stunned as the words spilled out of his mouth. It was like he was saying every. single. thought I had had all day.

During my time there up to that point, I had been doing a little research for him, and he told me that he decided he wanted to turn that into a big research project for me, which I would then present to other TDs in a 15-2o minute presentation.

My first research project is on childhood obesity, finding out what other countries are doing to tackle the issue, and trying to prove to the other TDs that Ireland needs to take action as well.

My second research project is hospital uniforms. There has been research that cuffs from white coats and long sleeve shirts, as well as jewelry and watches actually carry bacteria and pathogens, meaning doctors are giving patients hospital acquired diseases. The UK has implemented a "bare below the elbows" initiative, requiring all clinical staff to only wear short sleeve shirts and no jewelry or watches. My boss believes a similar policy should be implemented in Ireland, and it is my job to help him convince others the same.

Talk about God answering prayer!

Now I am buried under report after report as I sit at my computer day after day, researching these two topics. I'm finding it hard to sit at my desk all day focusing on one task, but it is much better than having nothing to do!

It's just like they say...be careful what you wish for! ;)

The session for the Dail ends next week, and my boss will go home, as will every other TD in Dublin, once again leaving their interns in the dust. I admit I'm concerned that I won't have any work to do and won't find my time at work rewarding in those last 2 weeks. Especially since my boss admitted to me yesterday, "To be truthfully honest, Alicia, I have absolutely no idea what I'll have you do when I'm gone. That's something I need to think about."

Gulp.

But as with all of my other experiences here in Ireland, I'm learning to trust God in these circumstances.

just own the night like the 4th of July

it's blurry...that's ok!

So what does an All-American girl do for the Fourth of July when she's in Ireland?

Hang out with other Americans and eat cheeseburgers of course!

One of the things I've really liked about our program coordinator EUSA is they always provide us with information about events going on in Dublin. So for the Fourth of July, they told us that Baseball Ireland was hosting a barbeque at Grafton Lounge that we all decided to go to.

I know...Baseball Ireland. Who knew, right?

And to top that off, our program director, Tom Kelley actually plays for Baseball Ireland. Tom is an American, Irish heritage, from Cleveland who now lives in Dublin, and as we have all come to realize does a lot more here than just run EUSA.

He owns property in Temple Bar (the touristy strip of Dublin).

He owns the Dublin pub crawl.

And apparently he plays baseball for Baseball Ireland.

It has become a common joke among us whenever we are out that "oh yeah, Tom Kelley probably runs this place too," because from now on we would not be surprised to find his hands involved in other stuff!

Sheesh...us over-achieving americans....

Anyway, I was sooo excited to go to a bbq! I was imagining pulled pork, potato salad, baked beans, some sweet iced tea!

Mmmm mmm! Charlottesville was gonna come back to me that night!

Only to get there and realize, yeah...Ireland has no concept of what bbq is. When they say barbeque they just meant a backyard grill with burgers and hot dogs.

Oh well...that's ok!

It was still nice to eat yummy cheeseburgers and down a Coca-Cola.

Cause baby you're a firework

Come on show em what you're worth

Happy Fourth of July from Ireland y'all!

the only time i would don an obnoxious american outfit abroad - on the fourth of july!

Blog post title - Firework by Katy Perry

oh baby you got me workin' day and night

Source: flickr.com via Zapallos on Pinterest

Two weeks ago, my boss' parliamentary assistant was in town for a training course, and while he was here, I got to work with him in the office and learn more about what it is like working in Parliament and being a Parliamentary assistant.

Now my boss is really nice, but he is also extremely busy. He is a new member of Parliament and his only staff is his Parliamentary assistant John, who is normally based in Limerick. That doesn't leave much time for him to show me the ropes and explain to me what he is doing in Parliament.

So I was so appreciative to have company in the office while working, as well as learning more about Irish politics and culture through John!

John told me that representatives in Ireland spend much more of their time on constituency work, and in his opinion, on work the constituents could do themselves. Whenever someone has to work with a governmental body, they prefer to go through their representative. It would be like us having to call the DMV for a test we needed to take to get a license, etc, but the representative would help you through the process.

This leads to voting behavior becoming more of "What has the candidate done for me?" and less about the policies. Furthermore, politicians then become busier with constituency work, both because of the demand and rational political ambition (aka to get re-elected).

I like the idea of helping your constituents and staying in contact with them more, but I question the motive. But I am not willing to put any weight on that statement, because I did not grow up learning about Irish politics or the Irish people, and I only derived this from one conversation. I do not want to criticize where I am not knowledgeable enough to, this is simply my opinion from my experiences thus far.

So on Tuesday we found out that the Prime Minister would be visiting Patrick's constituency, Limerick, for the official opening of his constituency office there on Friday. With little time to spread the word, we scrambled to get mailings together and sent out.

Now for any of you who have had experiences on campaigns, you are familiar with the time honored tradition that is folding, stuffing, and labeling mailings of campaign literature. I dare you to find one politics intern who has not sat down to a heap of letters and envelopes in front of her to assemble...

...only to have a brand new, hot off the press stack to do in the morning!

So I knew when it came time to tell all those Irish people their Prime Minister was coming that this was what those loooong hours of folding. and stuffing. and labeling. had alllll led up to.

This was my finest hour. And I was ready...to stuff like there was no tomorrow!

I told John that he was in luck, that he had a professional enveloper stuffer on his hands. Don't ya love the fancy skills I've acquired with all this political experience ;)

We successfully got all of the post out in time Tuesday night, and I had volunteered to stay late after work. John was kind enough to take me out to dinner after! Then we went back to Parliament to see a live vote, because I had never seen how it was done before. Much ado about nothing if you ask me, but it was still an educational experience.

On Wednesday, I started calling constituents to let them know that the Prime Minister was coming. That's right folks, I did some phonebanking! Again, I dare you to find a politics intern who hasn't done some good 'ol cold calling strangers, aka phonebanking. As John hurried off to his class, I told him not to worry, I was an old pro.

As well as informing them that the Prime Minister was coming, I was also to ask them if they would like to come into Dublin to tour Parliament. I talked to a lot of old people that day, and naturally, since senior citizens are notorious for being the most active demographic in politics. And as I've mentioned on this blog before: Irishmen. love. me. So here is how one conversation went down:

Interrupts me as I'm talking: Are you American, girl?

Yes, I am.

Oh, whereabouts?

Virginia.

Ohhhh...they have beautiful women in Virginia.

Why thank you!

Will you be there for the tour?

Yes, I will still be working here then.

Oh well then I'll definitely come! I can't wait to meet you! Bye bye my love!

See, I'm tellin' ya...these Irish men...sheesh! My boss rolled his eyes when I told him this story. "They may be old, but they're still hormonal," he said. "Duly noted, sir."

But there's an interesting point to this story. The fact that we had to send letters and call people, that we were trapped by that as our only means of communicating to them in short notice. I asked why we didn't blast it out on Facebook and Twitter and e-mails, to which I learned that social media is not as prevalent here.

Source: designspiration.net via Marcus on Pinterest

Especially with senior citizens, most don't even have internet, let alone e-mail. And those who do have e-mail don't view it as a legitimate source of communication with third party organizations. They would use it to e-mail with a friend, but if they received an e-mail from their representative, they would consider it spam.

By the end of the week, even though I was so busy and didn't get home til 9pm at times, it was so rewarding! Like the good feeling of a hard day's work.

Blog post title - Working Day and Night by Michael Jackson

let the rain fall down and wake my dreams

Photo courtesy of Pinterest

So the weather here in Dublin is very unpredictable. It is either a lovely day (and all you need is a nice jacket! - sorry I had to put that in there. Miss Congeniality anyone?) or it is cold and rainy. You always have to be prepared for both!

So while all of you back in the good 'ol US of A are gettin' that summa sun and nice, golden tans, us Dubliners here are wearing trench coats (but mine is mighty cute i must say) and carrying our brellies (what they call umbrellas).

Except for yesterday.

I always bring my coat and umbrella to work, but rarely find that I really need it, and it just becomes one more thing I have to carry. So yesterday I decided to just bring my sweater and forgo the coat.

And of course that is the day when I step outside of work and it is a pure whirlwind! There is rain going in every direction because of the strong winds, and me and my new Calvin Klein dress are getting soaked.

But you just gotta laugh at it all! I'm sure I looked quite pitiful walking back to my apartment with my umbrella being pulled by the wind and soaked through.

Oh, Dublin, you always keep a girl on her toes ;)

And Calvin Klein? He's fine too :)

Blog post title - Come Clean by Hilary Duff