...but I have vowed to keep this blog going. Today's theme is pretty simple. Here's a short list of a few [very] useful things I've learned about living in Dublin so far. Should you decide to abruptly leave your home country and move to the capital of the Irish Republic (I highly recommend it), I hope you find this information of some use.
There's no need to worry about getting smacked by a car... it's the cyclists who are after you.
Everyone in Dublin seems to have a bicycle and ride it at breakneck speed, yet everyone also has a motorcar that they drive like a maniac. The motorists curse the cyclists for getting in the way, and vice versa. Dubliners abhor the cyclists...which perhaps is to say that Dubliners hate themselves, since everyone is constantly pedaling around on a two-wheeler.
Drying your clothes is an expensive luxury.
Most Dubliners are accustomed to airing out wet garments or simply hanging them to dry. For a country that is generally damp and rainy, I don't see how this is practical, but alas, such is the way of things. The practice of doing laundry is quite unusual to me here (I try to avoid saying "weird," as I am making a concerted effort not to cast aspersions on things or people just because a lifestyle habit is different than what I'm used to). That said, I've not yet grown used to throwing circular solvent tablets instead into the washer and hoping for the best. Can I have my liquid Tide back?
As long as you end an exchange with "cheers," you've made good with the cashier you just had a fight with.
"Cheers" is also code for "I live here. I'm one of you."
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| Tod Browning's Freaks. 1932. MGM. Gobble gobble! |
...times a thousand. They are everywhere. When you don't see a seagull, you smell a seagull. When you don't smell a seagull, you step in its feces. On that note, I literally saw a seagull swoop down and grab a sandwich right out of a man's hands yesterday.
If a Dubliner insults you, it means they really like you. The more you bring each other down, the stronger your relationship is.
Much has been written on/about Irish humor and I am not an expert. I was keen to discover, however, upon leaving the following note (pictured below) for my flatmates regarding the messy state of our kitchen prior to move-in, a maintenance man decided to respond. You see, the maintenance team at my residence hall is required to scour, scrub and hose down all communal kitchen areas prior to the arrival of new guests. When I found my kitchen in a less-than-ideal state, as any proper germaphobe would do, I took it upon myself to drown the room in bleach and other toxic chemicals so as to eliminate any sign of human life. When I left the note for my flatmates, I kind of threw maintenance under the bus.
Well, here's what Dave from Maintenance had to say about that. (Note: plaster = band aid).
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| "Brianna, you missed a dirty plaster under the table!" |
For the record, Dave and I get along swimmingly. And I'm not being sarcastic, either.
It's common courtesy for a stranger to ask totally invasive questions...and expect answers.
Take the following conversation I had with a salesman in Foot Locker. Be aware the following occurred over the course of five minutes, as a long line started to form. This particular snippet of dialogue is typical of any exchange one might have with a Dubliner.
Salesman: "That'll be €14. What do you need the insoles for, and what brings you to Dublin?"
Me: "My feet are killing me. I decided to come here for school. Very excited! Thanks again, and have a good da--"
Salesman: "What is it you've done to your feet? What made you leave New York? Did you have a proper job there? Whereabouts are you living now? North side or south? Fancy a pint?"
Me: "Oh, thanks! I'm not big on beer--"
Salesman: "Well, why the f*ck not?"Another example. One of my friends has a service dog. Granted, service dogs are uncommon in Ireland so naturally people are curious.
Person: "What a gorgeous dog. Beautiful, really. Just gorgeous."
My Friend: "Thank you!"
Person (whilst petting dog): "Ah, so you've got a disability, yeah? What is it? Physical or mental?"
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| Willow the Service Pup in Trinity's revered Long Room Library. |