Ireland

March 3-6, 2011

                 Racing to a bus, suitcases dragging along behind us, Jenna and I half ran, half walked to the unmarked bus stop on the way to the Stanstead Airport.  We made it with a few minutes to spare, and boarded.  I am not one to get motion sickness pretty much ever.  I grew up boating, and roller coasters give me a rush; however, I have rarely felt more nauseous as I did on that bus ride.  A miserable ninety minutes later we arrived and checked into Ryan Air and waited to board. 

                We took off for Dublin, and after a short flight and a pleasant conversation with the Irishman next to us, we were in the land of Guinness.  We had yet another ninety minutes to wait until the bus came to pick us up to bring us to the hostel.  After staring at some cute Rugby men, we took off to find our bus stop.  We boarded yet again, and took off through the city.  On our way through the city, we saw a 20-something year old get the crap kicked out of him by what looked like a boy no older than 12.  His face was a bloody mess, and the kid was chasing him down the street.  “Welcome to Dublin,” our tourguide announced.  Wow. This is going to be interesting. 

                By nine o’clock we were hungry and tired from a day of traveling, and per the recommendation of our bus driver, we walked up the street to O’Sheas, a traditional Irish pub.  I ordered the fish and chips, and a Coors Light.  I know, I know, I’m in Ireland, but I couldn’t help it.  It was the first time I had seen Coors Light on tap since I got to Europe, and it was the only non-Guinness beer I had all weekend.  As we were finishing our meal, we heard music in the other room.  Curiousity got the best of us, and we went over to the other side of the pub.  There was older couples (I’d guess around 45-65) doing something I can only describe as traditional Irish couples dancing.  It was amazing!

                Two different older men took me up to the makeshift stage to dance, it was probably the coolest experience I had in Dublin!  Around 12:30 am we headed back to the hostel, with the older couples still dancing away.  We set our alarms and passed out, exhausted from our day of travels.

                We woke in the morning and mapped out our day of sightseeing adventures and set out.  Trinity College was first up on our list; we walked around taking pictures, and thrilled by the sight of large areas of grass which are hard to find in London.   The infamous St. Patrick’s Cathedral was next up, and it was very pretty.  I’m finding out that the vast amounts of churches in Europe are starting to blur together.  Don’t get me wrong, Natre Dame will always stand out, but some of them are just starting to run together.  St. Patrick’s exterior was intimidating looking, like it should be in a horror movie.  There was just a foreboding sense to it, until you walked inside. 

                St. Stephen’s Green was absolutely incredible to walk through.  Jenna and I spent a long time wandering through the park, taking picture after picture, and just taking in the nature that surrounded us.  It was stunning.

                For lunch we stumbled into a mall, and got some sandwiches.  We rested our legs and then headed to our next stop.  Christ Church and the Dublin Castle we walked through, and saw some ancient remains in the basement.  There was a cool, eerie feeling in the air as we examined the old ruins. 

                That night we went on a pub crawl, and I ended up feeling kind of ripped off.  We were promised free shots at every bar we went to, and special discounted drinks at each bar as well.  Well we only got 2 free shots and the only special drink prices we received was whatever was already on special at the bar.  At this point, I’m starting to get used to ridiculously overpriced drinks, ad we went from pub to pub to end up at a club.  We entered feeling under dressed, and dumped our coats in a pile making a circle around them.  We were trying to dance have a good time but the unfamiliar music and overall feeling of not quite fiting in made us wary.  Then the beyond intoxicated, obnoxious men began to creep in the background.  Slowly at first, but making their way around us, hands groping, we quickly made it clear we were not interested.  The pattern began; they would saunter away only to return within the next song, stumbling and groping.  After about three cycles of this behavior, I got fed up and found a bouncer. 

                “I don’t know what type of behaviour is considered acceptable here, but when men grope women multiple times after their advances have clearly been declined, we consider that beyond inappropriate,” I told the bouncer.  He immediately knew what group of men I was referring to, and promised to take care of the situation.  The whole ordeal left us all feeling uncomfortable so we opted to leave earlier than planned.  Jenna and I made our way back to the hostel and crashed. 

                We slept in on Saturday, and decided to live it up while we were in Ireland.  We headed to the Guinness factory to tour the facility and drink some of that famous Irish beer straight from the tap.  Jenna learned how to pour that perfect pint, and we both got to try the beer.  I have to admit, the Guinness in Ireland in general did taste different than the stuff from home.  I was told this is because Guinness’ taste is affected by how often the flow of beer goes through the lines of the keg.  Apparently they waste something like three pints every morning bleeding off the lines to get the taste right.  After our tour, I tried the Guinness Foreign Stout, a flavor not available in America. 

                From there we walked to the Jameson Distillery with a little bit of a buzz.  Here there was a guided tour complete with videos demonstrating the various processes.  I had a little bit of insider information from someone we met the night before, and was told to immediately volunteer at the begingin of the tour.  I did so, and was selected to do a taste test of three different whiskeys at the end of the tour.  We went through all the phases of the distilling process, and made it to the end.  I was able to try Johnnie Walker Black, a Scotish whiskey, Jameson’s, and Jack Daniel’s.  Now Jack is only distilled once, wheras Jammeson’s is distilled three times for a smoother flavor.  I found the smokey, woodsy tast of Johnnie Walker Black unpleasant, and although Jammeson’s was fantastic, I still love my Jack. 

                By this time, Jenna and I were beyond hungry, and we made our way to one of the pubs we were at the night before for dinner.  We had seen a group of guys with wings, and decided we had to try them.  We ordered our first plate with some beers, and devoured them.  We sat there for a little while, and then decided we wanted anther plate.  The wings were not like the ones from home, the chickens definitely weren’t on the usual steriods because the wings were rather small, and although they weren’t quite hot enough for my liking, I give my approval for them on an overall basis. 

                Now stuffed, we headed back to the hostel to drop off our souvenirs from the day.  We freshened up for the night and pre-gamed with a bottle of wine.  Looking as cute as we could with the clothes we brought, we headed out to a bar our waitress told us about.  We again felt completely underdressed, and were afraid we wouldn’t get in.  The bouncers were kind to us, and we made it in.  The interior was filled with beautiful women in dresses and heels, but there was a patio outside that had a football (translation soccer) match on where the people were more casual.  There was a group of guys we chatted with for about two hours, and then we decided to go to Temple Bar.

                Temple Bar is the hip area to be in apparently.  We went to a pub, had an overpriced drink, and hung out for a little bit.  Around 2:30 am we went back to the hostel, for about two hours of sleep before we had to get up to catch our flight back to London.  Little sleep and being hungover was not a good combination for an airport, and unfortunately the ariport in Dublin was nothing like the airports at home.  There was one little deli style shop with nothing I care to eat in it.  I was joking with Jenna and was rambling off all the things I would do for Taco Bell.  We finally were able to board our flight after hours of waiting, and went back to London, exhausted but exhilarated. 

In Chase of Perfection

In Chase of Perfection


Jessica Vasil

So I've read an article today (http://www.danoah.com/2010/09/disease-called-perfection.html), and heard a song called Deadly Beauty by Falk (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8IHwai118s) and it really got me thinking....

How many people in my life have struggled with these issues? Body image? Eating Disorders? Self mutilation? Suicidal thoughts? Over all feelings of worthlessness? Stress that is so bad it manifests itself to physical ailments? Sexual Assault? And am I a person they feel they could talk to about it?

I sat down today to focus on school, but I could not shake some of the thoughts I had. How many times have I been a part of a group talking about the ‘skanky’ girls at the party last night? Or stayed silent while good men around me throw around phrases like ‘the ho I’ve been bangin on the side’?

Everyone talks about how they wished they lived in a society where people were more open and honest-it would lead to discussions that would help people overcome these 'obstacles'. Yet no one is talking. Why is it that talking about one of the above mentioned topics is still so taboo? I'm not blameless; I wouldn't even know how to start a conversation like that with someone in my family. My family is amazing, I'm very close with them, but those are issues that just aren't discussed. No one had to pull me aside and tell me not to talk about them. It's just understood. No one wants to talk about something so controversial and uncomfortable around the dinner table or at a family party. Keep it light and simple.

No one wants to be labeled. I think that's part of the struggle. I've done some volunteering for both SAAVI (Sexual Assault and Anti-Violence Information) and CAPSA (Community Abuse Prevention Services Agency), and am passionate about both causes, yet the amount of judgments and stereotypes I have encountered in this field is unbelievable.

I googled perfection, and here are some of the images I found on page one.
So how do we break through these walls of society? I wish I had an answer. It's easy to blame the media-which doesn't help the issue, and probably holds part of the blame. But that's not the whole picture.

I feel like our generation should take the lead. We need to sit down with our sons and daughters at a very young age and talk about these issues until they are no longer uncomfortable.

On a university level, we need to continue to have discussions like the one we had at my school, Utah State University, last semester when Reed Cowan visited us. He showed his documentary “8:The Mormon Propostition,” and led a very emotional and frank discussion about his film and personal experiences being a homosexual man.

How do we reach children in high school where being cool is so important? What about the children even younger than them? My cousin teaches school in the inner city of Chicago, and she has girls in eighth grade getting pregnant. EIGTHTH GRADE! What isn’t this making news? Why aren’t we as a nation more outraged at the deaths of Todd Ransom, David Standley, and Tim Tiley who all commited suicide?

I could rant on and on about the under covered tragedies that should have gotten more coverage. The question still presses, how do we change this?

My contribution is this-I challenge myself to be the type of person who someone could talk to. I work at CAPSA on the mobile crisis unit-I am the first person from CAPSA to meet with victims of domestic violence and sexual assault. I present them with their options, and let them choose what they would like to do next.

I challenge myself to pay closer attention to the words I use, and what affect they have on the people around me.

I challenge myself to speak up in groups when I disagree with the words used and the topics discussed.

This is not to say I’ve suddenly become a different person and will never say a mean thing about another. It does mean I have made a commitment to myself to do so less and less. Who is willing to join me?

Paris!

The day began early, too early, in my opinion. Four am is too early to be getting up, but there we were, all five of us, in the lobby getting ready for our first European adventure.  The group was Jenna, Laura, Emily, Chris, and I.  We gathered our luggage and found our way to Liverpool Street where a bus would take us several hours to the ferry.  We crossed the English Channel and returned to the bus for another two hours.  Nine hours later we were in Paris, and although exhausted, ready for sightseeing. 

We took a boat tour, and although we saw a lot of interesting architecture it was like a teaser.  We couldn’t actually get out and see any of the places we were passing. After the boat tour, we took a bus tour through the city, and received some helpful insight from our tour guide about how to navigate the city.  Around nine o’clock we finally reached our hotel, exhausted and hungry.  The girls went off in search of fine French cuisine on a budget.

We ended up in the quaint area with cobblestones everywhere.  We selected the best restaurant we could afford and although under dressed, we went in.  We tried these amazing French cheeses with a bottle of wine for the table; then, Laura and I split the duck for our main entrée. I was apprehensive, but surprised myself and loved it.  Dessert was chocolate mousse that was rich and creamy and wonderful. 

We returned to the hotel, and Laura and I made plans to go to Pere Lachaise`in the morning before our tour began.  Seven thirty found us still tired, but we took off, determined to see Jim Morrison.    We made our way there, only to get caught up in taking pictures of the amazing headstones, and all maps in French didn’t help much.  We made it back just in time to meet up with our tour group, and decided we would try again the next day to see Jim. 

Our day of sightseeing was amazing.  We began at the Cathedral of Hearts (which translation I don’t remember) where there were no pictures aloud, but was breathtaking.  I said a prayer, and had a rather spriitual experience as I saw part of my name spelt out in the ceiling. 

The market where locals sold their paintings

St. Peter’s was around the corner, and was another gorgeous church.  Stained glass everywhere, amazing attention to detail in everything you saw.  Across the courtyard, was a market where local artists were selling their paintings.  Talk about talent! They were incredible, and I decided when I come back to Europe (as an accomplished career woman) I want to buy a piece of artwork from every country I visit.  Walking around this market were French military men holding automatic weapons. I wanted to see if one of them would take a picture with me, but everyone was too scared to go with me. 

Notre Dame

Moulin Rouge was next on our stop, which was cool to see, but since we didn’t go in, it was just another tourist destination.  Notre Dame was beyond words.  To think that it was built in the 1300s just boggles my mind.  I can’t fathom how people were physically capable of creating such a marvel.  From the stained glass to the Stations of the Cross, to the attention to detail, it was just mind blowing.  The statues were unbelievable.  Even with tourists everywhere taking pictures and trying to whisper, the presence of Christ could be felt.  There was a book where people from all around the world could sign and leave a message.  I left a message for my Grandma Karen, who is very religious and would have loved Notre Dame.     

From there we wandered the streets with our free time.  We found a great hole in the wall for lunch where we all bought homemade crepes from the vendor.  They were fantastic! Everyone got Nuetella and bananas except me, I got strawberry jam.  They were incredibly filling, only a few of us could finish them. 

Me in front of Versailles

We met up with our tour group and headed on a bus to Versailles.  It looked like something out of a romantic novel or a movie.  The entrance was these huge gates covered in gold.  The palace had twenty feet high doors with gold detailing everywhere you look.  Vaulted ceilings covered in paintings, every inch of space contained a decoration of some kind.  There were over a thousand rooms, the king, queen, and daughter all had their own separate wings of the palace.  There was a lift for the king’s favorite mistress to come up secretly for rendezvous. 

Victorian reminiscent art was everywhere.  A hall of mirrors was incredible to view.  Unfortunately it was a really overcast and very rainy day, so we were unable to go walk through the gardens, but it was absolutely amazing place to see.  Visions of women in ornate Victorian dresses spun through my mind all day. 

When our time there was done, we met up with the group and were dropped off in Central Paris.  My feet and legs were throbbing with pain.  We must have walked over four miles that day on little sleep.  For dinner we were all broke, and stopped at a local grocery store for some baguettes and cheese.  We ate on the side of the street, and probably looked like we were homeless.  Laura’s big find that day was wine in a juice box.  We were all amazed by this discovery.

The infamous Eiffel Tower was next up, and we spent several hours there.  We made it all the way to the top and the view was amazing.  There were people all over trying to sell you souvenirs, bargaining with you to try to get you to buy anything.  They were not only ruthless but annoying.  After we made our way back to the AllSeasons hotel, we decided to try to see Jim again the following morning.

I woke up that morning in the same position I fell asleep in, and dragged myself out of bed.  We headed back to see Jim, excited and as refreshed as we could be.  Unfortunately, the cemetery didn’t open til nine am on Sundays, and we had to be back to meet up with our group.  We waited until 8:30 hoping someone would let us in early, but eventually we had to leave, and Laura and I left disappointed. 

That morning we had a real breakfast, and then headed to the Lourve.  Jenna and I mapped out what we wanted to see, so we could maximize our time there. At this point, exhaustion is setting in and our feet were really dragging.  We mustered up as much energy as we could and headed to see the Mona Lisa.  We also saw the Venus de Milo and a great collection of Egyptian, Greek, and Roman artifacts. 

We got back on the bus for the nine hour journey home utterly exhausted, and slept as much as possible on the bus.  Another interesting point I don’t want to forget, is we drove through the tunnel where Princess Diana was hit.  There was a memorial of sorts erected in her honor there.