Irish Radio

Even public broadcasting channels in Ireland have ads every half hour. There is not one single channel were they don’t have those silly call-in programs. Imagine, there are only five million Irish living in Ireland. But there are at least ten radio channels were they can get their personal opinions and problems of their chest. Think after one year living here, listening to radio every day, I’ll have heard every single Irish here at least once on air.

But luckily enough there is John Kelly with his high quality Mystery Train. Listening to it right now. From Monday till Thursday every night at half eight I listen to John’s music program. With his own determined music choice. He just played a track from Ali Farka Tourré’s next album. Reminded me of my first music festival ever. Still my favourite festival. Sfinks Festival it’s called, the largest World music Festival of Belgium. Think I was only ten or eleven at the time. Went together with my dad to see Ali playing. Remember it as it was yesterday. Can even remember the taste of the fish soup my mum made before we went to the festival field. ‘t Was a lovely day, the sun was shining. I remember me eating my soup, standing in the garden. The concert itself made quite a big impression on me. Together with my dad in one of the front rows. All those people around me dancing. Black people, white people, sunburned people, weird people, hippie people, normal people as well, drunk people, sweaty people, people barefoot, people with funny hats,… and me and my dad. Although I think the concert probably finished after an hour, it lasted the whole evening in my memory. ‘t Was after getting dark when the gig was over. Never missed the festival since. Went there at least one day every year. Saw lots of amazing performances there. It’s kind of a tradition now at home. Every last weekend of July the whole family spend the weekend together on the festival field. Even my youngest sister, think she was only four when she joined for the first time. ‘t Was just last year that I for the first time in years missed the festival. ‘Cause I was on a holiday in….Ireland. Am not going to be there this year either. Ireland again. Just realised all that now, by listening the Ali Farka Tourré song. Music…great thing it is indeed.

Going to enjoy the rest of the Mystery Train now. Have a nice weekend out there. And all those lucky Belgian people, enjoy the 34°C. Think the warmest I had here so far is 20°C. Today. No rain either. But is nothing compares to Belgium so. And it was actually me all the time saying that the weather in Ireland wasn’t that different from Belgium.

Saskia

Irish Time

Still not used to the Irish concept of time either.

Got a phone call from Bill this morning. Are ye already on your way down? Indeed I was. All right, no problem, see ye so in two minutes. And he hang up. Waa, panic, only two minutes to get in town. Need at least 15. So I forced myself and walked, run actually, as quick as I could to Saint Patricks bridge. All sweaty and sore shinbones (I always get that when I go downhill to fast, feels like a cramp, really painfull) No Bill there of course. Two Irish minutes equals about twenty Belgian minutes. Just forgot about that.

Saskia

Cork Night Life

I’m still not used to the Irish way of going out. The drunken madness, the curfew, the way people are dressed,…

Went to a blues concert on Friday. With one of my housemates, Catalan guy Joan. I was invited by a colleague of work, Bill. The one who drives me to and from work most of the time. ‘t Were a couple of his friends giving the concert. Two guys from the Czech Republic. I’m not really into blues music, but as Bill put me on the guest list, I didn’t had to pay and so I decided to give it a try anyway. No regrets at all.

The concert was supposed to start at nine o’clock, but as there was not too many people yet, they postponed it for another hour. Ten o’clock so. Went to a folk pub before, Joan and me. For a quick pint. At ten back to the Everyman Theatre. Bill was smoking a cigarette outside. Looked a bit wrinkled, not only his shirt that he clearly forget to iron, but the whole of him. ‘T was obvious he already had a heavy night behind him. He introduced me to some of his friends, bought me a pint and that was it. I started chatting with his housemate and his friend, a girl from Leipzig. Nice people. Think the show eventually started around half ten (for the Flemish readers: half ten is 10.30h, not 9.30h, very confusing thing, but you’ll get used to it). Two older guys; a singer and a bassist. Great stuff they played. Don’t think I’ll ever really get into the blues, but as a live act it is definitely worth seeing it. Great craic indeed. The crowd was quite international, loads of Spanish and Italian people. Not that many Irish I reckon. Already before the start of the gig, a good few of them were tipsy. And the drinking obviously continued during the music. Had one pint too much myself, but definitely still remember everything I did and said and was still able to walk in a normal way. Bought my colleague a pint back, looked like he was already far gone. Couldn’t stop grinning in a strange way. Asked me if I wanted to join the after party in one of his mates house. Because I was in Cork now for quite a few weeks and needed to meet other people blablabla. Prefer other occasions to meet new people then a place were everybody is just dead drunk. I mean, I really love going out for a pint, have a chat and a laugh, but think I’ll never get used to the immoderate Irish version of it. It’s just a fact that after half eleven, you’ll have to look very hard to have a chat with a more or less sober person. What is the point of meeting new people when they are just so pissed they in no way remember you the next day? And then there is the closing time of course. The musicians were in great form and were like working to a climax, when one of the bouncers switched on the lights for last orders. Every one to the bar for last pints and ten minutes later the show was over. Oh, do I miss the Belgian way of going out sometimes. Just drink in a nice and easy way, leave the pub whenever you want, not getting kicked out at one o’clock by a scary looking bouncer dressed in black.

All right, Irish nigh life definitely has his charms as well. That’s after all one of the reasons I’m living here now. Cause think there is no other country in Europe I think where you can find live music in the pubs every night. And there is really something as craic. The atmosphere in a good Irish pub is unique. People are easy going, always ready for a chat. Pubs are definitely the main place for social live. It’s just that after a certain hour, you have to be more cautious. Because those bouncers are there for a reason. People under influence of too much booze, tend to get more aggressive from time to time, you know.
But don’t understand me wrong so, I really love living here. I like going out and enjoy Irish pub life. It’s just that I still have to get used to the differences. And one thing is for sure: I’m already more Irish then the Irish in drinking tea, but never I’ll be able to beat them in drinking the stronger stuff. And I definitely don’t have the intention to do so.

Getting dressed now, still in my pyjama’s (Thomas thought I was just dressed in an Irish way). Have to go to the book shop. Just finished ‘Hundred and one Days’ of Asne Seierstad, about a journalist living in Baghdad just before and during the war. A must. Think I’ll buy one of her other books ‘The bookseller of Kabul’.

There is an early trad session in Sin E tonight, think I’ll go there with Thomas. And this afternoon probably watch a DVD, Joan is going to rent one. The weather isn’t too good at the moment, just taking a lazy Sunday so.

Saskia


Ps: saw two funny Irish movies recently, were free DVD’s in the Irish Sun (which I only buy when there is free DVD’s in it, honestly). Especially ‘The most Fertile Man’ with James Nesbitt is hilarious. But ‘Spin the Bottle’ wasn’t too bad either.

Pps: Just heard Greece won Eurovision. Didn’t see the final, did see the semi final and felt really embarrassed about the Belgian entry. We had a laugh about the Norwegian song, as Finn is from there. It became suddenly very clear for all of us, that not only Finn, but Norwegian people in general are completely mad.