G is for Guinness

Hey I finally posted pictures on Facebook! Sorry for not being more stalk-able. I’m working on it.

So this weekend I went on my first trip outside of Edinburgh to Dublin! The way my class schedule works, I can only go on super short weekend trips, but it’s worth it. I was in Dublin for maybe 34 hours, and I loved every minute of it.

I arrived at Dublin airport at 7:30am on Saturday, snagged the bus, and met my friend Anna (hi Anna!) at the hostel where we were staying. After figuring out some directions to a couple major tourist destinations, we set out. Both of us were used to navigating Edinburgh, which is pretty easy, even if you’ve just arrived. Dublin was bigger than either of us expected, and we got turned around quite a few times. Thanks to Anna’s navigation abilities, we found ourselves at Trinity College, St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Dublin Castle, and Christ Church, and along the way, Temple Bar (a downtown area with lots of pubs and restaurants) and the market near Temple Bar.

America I want more pretty churches like this one get on that

About mid afternoon, the adrenaline-and-caffeine mix I had been running on since 4am wore off, and we took a break for naps and homework. That night, we went on a highly recommended literary pub crawl and saw a bit of Dublin nightlife with some middle-aged literature enthusiasts. It was crazy. I had an Irish coffee and we called it a night.

Sunday morning, we had planned in advance not to go to church, but to go instead to the number one tourist attraction in Dublin – the Guinness Storehouse. The storehouse is a mix between a history museum, an educational museum, and a shrine. Seriously. The main building is shaped like a pint.

a possibly overblown description of the experience

This might have been the highlight of the trip for me, as romanticized as everything was. Local beer, when I can get it, has become my drink of choice, but I’m still woefully ignorant about beer in general, and I want to know how to appreciate good beer while I’m, you know, studying in Scotland. The first couple of stories of the storehouse are dedicated to the process of how beer is made, so now I know to say stuff like “oh yeah you can really taste the hops” when in the right kind of company.

After some videos of actors memorializing Arthur Guinness (founder) as a god among men and a tasting room where we learned how to properly taste-test Guinness, we moved on to the Gravity Bar, which boasts of 360 degree views of Dublin City. Here, you can trade in your entry ticket stub for a free (or €13, depending on how you look at it) pint of Guinness. Which of course, was delicious.

mmmm

I’ve been told if a pint of Guinness is poured well, you can draw a smiley face in the foam and it will stay. And when you have an excuse to draw a smiley face in the head of your pint…

Pictured: subtle ways of expressing that you don’t like Guinness

Option 2

Afterwards, we got some lunch and headed back to the airport.

Dublin is a fantastic city. I miss it already. I’ll probably be back.

A is for American (adj.) (n.)

Ex: (A couple sentences into the conversation) I’m going to guess you’re… American?

[Editor’s note: As I think everyone is aware, “American” is not actually a Scottish word. As the creator, author, and editor, I’ve used my influence at the weekly Aye is for Adventure board meeting and we’ve decided, in this instance, that we’ll make an exception this week. We want to thank you for your flexibility and we hope to avoid these disturbances in future.]

Obviously, lots to think about this week as far as being American goes. When I first arrived in Scotland, I thought about my identity as an American constantly. Now that I’ve been here for almost five weeks (!) it’s something that comes and goes.

Before I left, my attitude towards America on the whole was neutral-to-annoyed. I thought, eh, it’s alright, but man the crazies need to pipe down and stop ruining it for everyone. Seriously.

I also viewed America in parts. I viewed the West Coast as a completely separate entity from the East Coast as a completely separate entity from the South, etc., as many Americans do. When having conversations with British students about America, when explaining where I was from, I would map out the US with my hands and say “This is where the stereotypes come from. I grew up HERE and I go to school HERE.” just to make sure they understood – not America - San Francisco and Seattle. HERE and HERE.

While in Scotland, and especially this week, I’ve come to the obvious conclusion that, for better or worse, we’re one nation. All of us, with all our opinions, and everyone under this crazy spectrum of politics we seem to span is roped into the same governing body. We only have one federal government between us, which seems like just an awful idea (re: crazy spectrum).

The pity of all this is, before this week, I was actually feeling really good about America. I’m starting to get into that downswing of study abroad where, no matter how wonderful the place is, you kinda miss home and want to be back. I miss bubble tea and I miss really good hamburgers. I’m dreading missing Thanksgiving dinner with my family. I miss diners, for crying out loud. I don’t even frequent diners, but they’re so American and great and sadly, not in Scotland.

Mostly I’ve started really loving the conversations I’ve had with British students about America. It’s brought American culture (something I wasn’t sure existed until recently) right into focus for me. It’s mostly our philosophies – I love the value of hard work and ambition. I absolutely love that our constitution says that all men are created equal and that rhetoric has shaped so much of how we think. Obviously there are inconsistencies in the way it plays out in our society, but I’ve come to appreciate that those are our starting points.

So anyway, as I’m starting to feel all patriotic, my government fails to pass a run-o’-the-mill budget because some crazies still can’t accept that sometimes progress happens and will do everything in their power to make sure we regress just because their party says new is bad and they deny their capacity to think critically when presented the evidence. And now they will literally stop at nothing to make sure they get their way.

What? My politics are showing? Oh gosh how embarrassing thanks for telling me

(Yes, I understand I maybe lit a fire under half my readership. Sorry. Kindly file my comments under “Young and Opinionated and Receiving Higher Education from a Liberal Institution in the Northwest” if need be and try to set them aside as best you can as you read on.)

At first, it was kinda satisfying to rant around my British friends, because it’s a given they’ll understand how crazy this is. But as the week went on, it became clear that America is the butt of a lot of jokes usually, and not just when crazy stuff happens. I knew that before this week, but I finally grasped the scope of how ingrained into British culture it is. America is kinda like the younger brother who, after leaving home, is kinda successful (how it happened no one is really sure) so we let him live his life however he wants, but once he’s left the room you all talk about how you’re actually kinda worried for him because you really think there might be something wrong with him in the head.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that America, I love you, but you’re embarrassing me in front of my friends. I mean, I'll try defend you best I can, but... everyone's got their limits, you know?