"In Dublin's Fair City"
On the first of April, I met up with a friend of a friend named Anthony in Dublin city center. Now, I did not know this young man previously, but we have two mutual friends, and they encouraged us to get in touch at some point during my semester in Ireland. My friend Kat emailed Anthony and me in early February, giving us each others contact information, and I did not really expect to hear anything from this dude because, well, I don't know why. I guess, in my experience in America, people are really good at small talk invitations because we are afraid of silence. Often times, people end conversations with phrases like, "We should get lunch together sometime", or "You should come by our cabin sometime" just to quickly finish up a conversation, and we are pretty awful at actually following through.
So, with this in mind, I was a little bit shocked to receive an email just 24 hours later from this mysterious dude, and even more surprised when he suggested that we meet up to get to know each other!
This was a genuine offer, which threw me off a little bit. Like I said before, sometimes invitations, and other such offerings are spoken in order to fill silences which many find awkward. Why isn't it normal for us to follow through on our invitations or promises? I have seriously reflected on this experience, and I have decided that I want to make some changes in my life and conversation style so that I do not just talk in order to fill space! So if I ever invite you to tea, lunch, or to my home, please feel free to actually join me! Ok. Now that I've ranted for a second, let us return to the story, shall we?
After a few weeks of phone tag and coordinating schedules, Anthony and I planned to meet in Dublin for lunch, and a stroll around the city. So on the first day of April, I donned my rain jacket, and wandered off to meet this kind stranger that I have never seen in my life.
Thankfully, Anthony proposed that we meet at this giant spire sticking out of the ground, so he wasn't hard to find.
Our journey through the streets of Dublin was only slightly hindered due to the rain, but overall, we had an awesome day! We got some tacos and chatted for a few hours, and I felt like I knew him forever! We found out we had a lot in common, especially our love for the outdoors and adventure.
He took me around to some of his favorite spots in town, including an Adoration Chapel where we spent some time in front of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament. What a hidden gem, right in the middle of the city!
As our afternoon adventure was winding down, Anthony took me to the statue of Molly Malone, a famous figure in the heart of Dublin who was said to have been a beautiful fishmonger (and also probably a prostitute) in Ireland during the 1700s. I had no idea who she was, so Anthony started singing the famous song that recollects her life, and untimely death at a young age. This did not help me cause I had also never heard the song...BUT it was quite a lovely tune nonetheless.
The tune and legend of Molly Malone tell of a beautiful young woman who walks the streets of Dublin each day, selling fresh fish from her wheelbarrow. She takes the same route every day, and a young fiddler named Timothy falls in love with her, even though they have never spoken. Whenever she walks past him, he changes the tune he plays to a sonata to express his feelings towards Molly, and in return, she smiles at him with great affection. One day, Molly does not come past Timothy to sell her fish, and he is slightly concerned. What could have become of her? Eventually, news reaches him that Molly came down with a fever and died quite suddenly, and Timothy is utterly heartbroken. He becomes a merchant in America and does not touch his violin because it makes him long for Molly. Then, one day after work, he indulges in a few glasses of brandy, and picks up his violin to play. However, the song that he plays is unknown to him. It is upbeat, fun, and light, and he continues to play for hours. Suddenly, a woman appears out of no where, and encourages Timothy to continue playing. Guess who this was... MOLLY MALONE!!! So Timothy continues to play this joyous tune on his violin (now known as "The Ballad of Molly Malone") and Molly dances all around the house with him.
Exploring Dublin with a true Dubliner really changed my view of the sites and sounds I experienced. While I had been to Dublin many times, I often blindly passed the different statues and monuments without fully understanding all that they represent. While Molly Malone may not be a real person, her story and struggles parallel those that struggled during the harsh poverty of the 1700s. She is now an iconic character of the city of Dublin. People journey from all over the world to Dublin, and many visit her statue before leaving the city.
With Molly Malone as our last stop during our adventure downtown, Anthony and I parted ways for now. It is possible that we will see each other again while I am in Ireland, but if not, I am sure our paths will cross again at some point. I believe I gained a new friend during this stroll, and it was a real blessing to experience the lovely city of Dublin through the eyes of a local. (Also, the tacos were AMAZING, so that was a bonus.)
Along with gaining a deeper understanding of the Irish culture and history, this experience renewed my faith in human interactions, as I stated at the beginning. I am now going to challenge myself (and you too, if you so desire) to truly mean what I say!!! I am going to follow through with my invitations, promises, and statements in order to grow from this experience.
"The Ballad of Molly Malone"
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, As she wheeled her wheel-barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive alive oh!" She was a fishmonger, And sure 'twas no wonder, For so were her father and mother before, And both wheeled their barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!" She died of a fever, And no one could save her, And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone. Now her ghost wheels her barrow, Through streets broad and narrow, Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh!"
