The Hospitality Continues

So I'm still amazed at how friendly people in Ireland are. I know everyone tells you that they're friendly, but I guess I wasn't mentally prepared. I've finished my second day at the hospice. Everyone I'm introduced to seems genuinely pleased to meet me, and eager to make me feel welcome and comfortable. I've never met so many nurses who were concerned about a medical student's well being in my life. The hospice itself is lovely - it's a beautiful building with lots of windows that is built around some well-kept but not discouraging gardens which are filled with tulips and daffodils right now.

I have been somewhat reluctant to Blog because I'm quite certain I'm going to fail miserably at accurately describing my experience Sunday evening. Around 7:30 I left Eilish's house (the woman I'm staying with) and walked down to the pub that is on the corner of our block. I was planning to have a beer and be home in time to watch the Jane Austen movie that was on at 9:00, have a late dinner, and be in bed by the time Eilish returned from her outing, which she thought might be after midnight. After about 10 minutes at the bar, a nice fellow named Kevin came over and started chatting with me. He was in his early 40s with a wedding ring and it was clear he was just being friendly. Eventually, we headed over to his table where all his friends were happy to meet me too. They were just back from a golfing weekend in Donegal, and were having a grand time. They don't live in the neighborhood, but nearby, and the pub at the end of my block was their ancestral stomping grounds, so to speak - they all take taxis there a couple nights a week because it's the pub they grew up in. (Except the one member of the group who's a taxi driver, I think he may have driven.) The conversation mostly involved them insulting one another. A group of younger men at the next table over (obviously well known to the group) was having quite a laugh at the expense of the taxi driver by repeatedly placing a pen behind each of his ears and then asking him if he had a pen, which was quite amusing for everyone, because he was always surprised at the presence of a pen behind either ear, much less both. They also asked me where I was from etc, and whether I could ride a horse, which I eventually figured out must be a euphemism for something, although since Colorado (which they also delighted in talking about) is known for horses and I had mentioned that I'm thinking of going to the big national race day here, it took me longer than it should have probably. Anyway, I was convinced to stay and another pint of Guinness was procured. The friendly insults of one another, the most common of which involved apologizing for the taxi driver, continued. Kevin, my initial friend apologized for the prolific cursing, although it didn't seem like more cursing than you'd hear amongst a group of American friends out at a bar. Maybe the lovely accent makes it seem like less? Anyway, I decided to go to the bathroom and head home, but when I got back there was another half pint of Guinness waiting for me (I had been drinking the pints too slowly, which leads to a less fulfilling Guinness experience according to the apparent experts.) But they also got me a ham and cheese sandwich since I was getting pretty hungry having had no dinner yet. I arrived home after 10, to a somewhat anxious Eilish who had come home early with her sister and niece for a glass of brandy, and expected me there. Of course I am invited to rejoin the group any time I'm in the pub - at least one of them is usually there Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights. I should probably insist on buying a round next time though. Well, I don't think I butchered that description as much as I could have, although of course you would have to be there to really appreciate it fully. Suffice to say it was a fun night, and I'm not sure there's anywhere else in the world that would happen.