Every week we have mobile seminars. As this was our first week of classes, I didn't really know what to expect. In all of our other classes we were learning everything from Irish culture to economics, and I was curious as to how these mobile seminars would add to my knowledge. For this seminar, we headed to the docklands. The docklands are in the east of Dublin (blackhall place, my home, is in the west), and they are also spilt across both sides of the river - very unusual for a neighborhood. In the presentation given to us by the Docklands Authority (the body in charge of managing the area) they explained to us that the docklands had been a very derelict area until recently. Many great improvements have been made to the area, as well as architectural wonders such as the Calatrava bridge made to resemble a harp on its side; the Convention Center; and the Grand Canal Theater. Unfortunately, however, with the economic collapse many other projects that they had planned fell through. Nonetheless, it was incredible to see how far Ireland, and particularly the docklands, had come in such a short time. On the walk to class after our mobile seminar, I also passed by the Famine Memorial. It was a very moving experience. From far away you can see these hunched brass figures that appear as golden lines against the backdrop of the sky. Up close, these ghosts of a time long past seem to embody fresh pain and sorrow. Later that day in our Irish Culture and Society class, we discussed how one goal of the new Irish government in the beginning of the twentieth century must be that it will always be able to feed its own people. Hopefully such trying time will never happen to anyone again. Later that day we went to see Translations by Brian Friel at the Abbey Theater. The Abbey theater is a really stunning space. Although its small size is a bit of a burden the intimacy of the theater made the experience all the more enjoyable. From the second row I could see every bit of passion and sorrow that the play called for. The play is about British mapping of Ireland in the nineteenth century. By "mapping" what they usually did was give British names to Irish places. In the play, the characters discuss what this could mean for Irish society: how much does a name really embody the culture of a place? There are also references to the coming potato famine, and the growing resistance to British rule.

At first driving in to Dublin from the airport I was expecting to see a city of some sort that I was used to: tall skyscrapers, or perhaps giant castles. Dublin, however, is a much more subtle city. The bus pulled up outside of a lovely wrought-iron gate that I found out will be my home for the next five and a half weeks. Blackhall place (the highly sophisticated name of my new apartment building) opens onto a central courtyard, with balconies overlooking the cobblestone. The building itself is beautiful: red brick with weathered wood, and huge floor-to-ceiling-glass windows. My apartment is on the first floor and has a great view of everything going on.
My first adventure in Dublin was simple enough: getting to class. Dublin is a city split by the central River Liffey into the north and south side. I live on the north side and take classes on the south side. That first walk to class was a little rainy, but not nearly as long and as dreadful as I imagined. The distance is approximately from Drexel's campus to 13th street, but it's a much more winding and interesting route. Crossing the river is a highlight of every day, especially the James Joyce Bridge (picture below). South Dublin is a little more bustling than north Dublin, but both have a sort of charm. After the first day of class I visited the Chester Beatty Library, which is the collection of American mining magnate Chester Beatty, who retired to Ireland before his death. The Art Books of Henri Matisse on disply in the library were absolutely incredible, and I lamented the fact that I couldn't take any pictures. Walking back I experienced what is typical of Dublin: rain. Although the city is great and affords plenty of places to take shelter, it is impossible to travel without an umbrella or raincoat. Even though my walk back from the Chester Beatty was much wetter than I would have preferred, I was happy and satisfied to be in such a great city.