Participant Observation

Or, Anthropological field notes

As many know, I was (very) briefly an Anthropology major, and during that time learned some of the lingo - one phrase being "participant observation," the - more or less undisputed - most effective form of truly understanding another culture. I better understand why this is so; the "armchair anthropologist" sitting at home with her books and travel channel would never pick up on the odd, easily forgotten indiscrepancies between the new culture and her own.

Here's one: The Irish and Spanish are the two groups that use cell phones most. This revealed during the library tour yesterday, when our guide indicated the numerous designated call areas around stairwells and entrances, his theory being that the average Irish person becomes anxious if s/he hasn't talked to someone in twenty consecutive minutes.

The Irish University's library also has a giant Finnish super computer to check books in automatically; a student scans her card, puts the book through a chute, and it is whisked away on a conveyor belt for sorting and reshelfing. The computer sorts, I believe, but does not reshelve.

Irish students don't reliably come to class, even though it is only a few days a week, according to my English professor. The consistent attendance of visiting students is one of their most endearing traits, as far as the faculty is concerned.

In Ireland dogs are not expected to be kept on leashes or necessarily in yards. They are very savvy about traffic and uninterested in strangers.

Irish young people are very political and very informed, and will inadvertently shame any American student who thinks herself moderately aware of the dynamics of the presidential campaign.

Today was beautiful, so I took some pictures! You can find them posted, I hope, in a few minutes. The sun was out and it was about 70 fahrenheit. I splurged on a slice of apple pie for breakfast, then read half the novel for my class on the grass with two of my classmates. Walks during breaks presented more photo ops, and a few varied locations to stop and read some more. We met an older gentleman fishing in the river that forms parts of the campus's boundary. We talked about the weather, the poor fishing in this spot, and he seemed pleased that I wanted to take his picture. As did another gentleman a few minutes later, walking his two Jack Russell Terriers off leash, pausing occasionally to pitch a small, heavy ball with some kind of bat. This, he explained, was hurling equiptment. There was one young, spry dog and one elderly dog, and the young dog rocketed after the ball with impressive speed each time, while the elderly dog loped stiffly after him. One began to pity the older dog, but while the young dog raced frantically about in the vicinity of the ball's landing place, nose to ground, twisting in eager circles, the old dog made his steady way to the exact spot, retrieving it wihtout fail.

My new and athletic friend Meg would like to try hurling, which sounds terrible to me. I do plan to sign up for the Mountaineering club, with vague aspirations still of giving the equestrian group a try. I was discouraged after finding on their website the news that their specialty is some kind of combined training for competitions that are one third show jumping, one third swimming, and one third running. The only athletic feat I can think of that I fail more miserably at than running would have to be swimming, so my enthusiasm is, to say the least, dampened.

In Ireland beer costs five euro, so partaking too heavily in the drinking culture could soon effect my overall budget. Luckily I'm eating cheaply by familiarizing myself with the available produce bargains and talking myself out of buying anything but coffee at restaurants.

In all, nothing too creative to report, only these practical details, and that this weekend I intend to kiss the Blarney stone.