Into the West: In Summary...

It's currently 8:49pm, and I'm sitting on the bus, hopefully about an hour a half away from Cork. I haven't updated, I think, since the first day in Galway, so I have some catching up to do. Hopefully I'll be able to write a couple of things I haven't addressed yet, because I have plenty of time.

Overall, I had a really nice holiday. I'm still very sad that I didn't get to go to Poland, but I want to believe that I'll get there sometime, hopefully sometime soon. Side note: the woman in the seat across from me has fake eyelashes, and they make me pretty uncomfortable, because they're super-long and not evenly applied. Eek.

Anyway. Hopefully I'll be able to include Poland in my as yet unplanned around-the-world trip. At the moment I'm leaning toward going from South Korea to Australia and New Zealand for at least a couple of weeks, then using the round-the-world ticket for the way back. But wait, that probably wouldn't work, because I wouldn't get to leave Korea until early July, and I still need to get back and find a job and an apartment before school starts in August. But it seems like a waste to be all the way over there and not make use of it to go down to Australia. And if all goes according to plan, I'll be spending the next summer training for Teach for America, so I'm not sure how that would work. And who knows, I might love Korea and decide I want to stay an extra year, in which case I would throw down with the English Department until they agreed to let me take the ONE remaining workshop via the internet somehow.

Quick, updated list of life goals:
1. Thru-hike the AT. This is something I could probably do during the summer when I start teaching, but it's something I'm currently, at least, really enthusiastic about doing. Especially after my Big Walk yesterday (more later). I don't know, I feel like, similar to the way monks achieve a special kind of spirituality by fasting, I would attain at least some sort of spiritual enlightenment... no, experience, by spending every day for three months walking from sunrise to sunset alone. It would be good for me, physically, to train for and do, and it's, I don't know, a test. Some people, I've noticed, don't feel compelled to test themselves. When presented with a situation that they know will be demanding with rewards that may or may not justify the effort expelled, they typically avoid it. I can't say as I actually blame them. But although I fret about those situations, I tend to embrace them, and sometimes I go looking for challenging experiences, like this one. To paraphrase Dwight, I'm ready to take on any challenges that might be foolish enough to take on me. Or something like that. Maybe it's because it's something very few people are able or interested in doing. I'm sure that plays a part in it. It's something I want to be able to say I've done, but one thing David doesn't understand about me is that I wouldn't do it just to have said I'd done it if I didn't think I would either enjoy it or get a lot out of it. It makes me think of that scene in (I think) A Separate Peace when Phineas is coaching the main character as a runner, and the main character describes the moment when he finally hits his stride, and it's amazing. I'm yet to reach that point with running, and I'm not sure I ever will, but I think I could reach it on the trail. A purely physical, repetitive experience. Besides, if I don't like it, I can stop. But I don't think I will.

2. Read all the classics. This is a goal I once had which I put aside, but which I think I'd like to pick up again. Bored in Galway, I decided all I really wanted to do was sit outside and read, so I searched all over for a bookshop, but they didn't carry much good contemporary American fiction. A lot of Stephen King, John Grisham, and Pink Books. But they did have a fairly well stocked classics shelf, and at first I was turned off. I can't remember who, but someone once pointed out that there are way too many books in the world to waste time with one you don't like. And I tend to agree with that. I've read all the classics we're assigned, but I haven't really made a concerted effort (as an English major should) to familiarize myself with the entire canon. Probably because I came to think no one else had either, that they were just pompously faking it. And some books just bore me. Maybe if I re-read Jane Eyre now, which I probably will, I wouldn't find it as boring, but I probably still wouldn't be able to get through Wuthering Heights, though I'll make one more valiant effort. I couldn't even read the first page of Jane Austen's Mansfield Park. So I'm not going to subject myself to anything I really hate, but I'm going to make a real concerted effort to at least give more things a chance. I've picked up two books on this trip I didn't really think I would like, but ended up liking them a lot, so there you go. In Galway City I bought F. Scott Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night on a whim because they had a little copy for two pounds (three euro fifty), and I ended up really liking it. Sure, some of the prose is incomprehensible, in my opinion, but I just didn't let it bog me down, and I'm glad, because I think I may have liked the story better than Gatsby, if you believe it. I've never actually been as gay for Gatsby as some other people though, so there you go. It reminds me of, shit, what's his name who wrote The Natural?... Bernard Malamud. Probably, if I did some research, even just on Wikipedia, I'd discover they're from the same time period, and are probably classified by the same pompous literary term. But no wireless on the bus, so that'll have to wait. Anyway, I really liked it. Idea! I think I might start a book blog, especially if I'm going to embark on an effort to read the classics, to keep track of what I've read, and when, and just some thoughts. I don't know, this is kinda similar to the AT thing--a big part of the reason I want to read them is so I can say I've read them, but not entirely. I consider myself a literary person, or like to, but I'm severely lacking in the necessary knowledge. And I LIKE to read. The act of it will make me happy.

Oh yeah, the other book I picked up, which I'm reading now, was Fyodor Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov. The fact that I'm really enjoying this actually blows my mind, because although I'd never actually read anything by FD (we'll call him), I had a stupid bias that said I wouldn't get it, or I wouldn't like it. Silly. A lot of it's really dense, but to me, more accessible than some of Fitzgerald's stupid paragraphs, and even though it does get very philosophical, I feel like I'm understanding what he's saying. Even the cultural differences aren't as pronounced as I thought they would be. It's just really cool. But really long. I saw I was on like, page 296, but I wasn't even near halfway, and then I discovered that's because the books is something like 687 pages in total. It's not something I can read for more than two hours, I think, but so far it's a really good story, and I find the discussions about God really interesting. Oh yeah, a passage I wanted to include:

"I must have justice, or I will destroy myself. And not justice in some remote infinite time and space, but here on earth. Justice that I can see myself. I have believed in it. I want to see it. And if I am dead by then, let me rise again, for if it all happens without me, it will be too unfair. Surely I haven't suffered, simply that I, my crimes and my sufferings, may manure the soil of future harmony for somebody else. I want to see with my own eyes the lamb lie down with the lion and the victim rise up and embrace his murderer. I want to be there when everyone suddenly understands what it has all been about. All the religions of the world are built on this longing, and I am a believer."

I'm not sure why this passage especially struck me, but I really like it. Up to now I hadn't really like Ivan's character, but I love Aloysha. He's just... awesome. (Maybe this is why I will never get a Ph.D. in Lit. Can that be the topic of my dissertation? The Awesomeness of Aloysha?) Also, could the bus driver chillax with the bumps? I think my laptop is going to break.

3. Go to New Zealand on a LOTR pilgrimage. Although I'm not sure if LOTR is considered a classic proper, or a children's classic, I'm definitely going to read it. And then I'm going to New Zealand on pilgrimage. That's it. Actually, to add to this goal, I intend to have kids and read all of the LOTR books aloud to them. And if they don't like it, tough shit. That's just the kind of mother I'll be.

4. Develop my interest in photography. Obviously this is never going to be any more than a hobby, but I think it would be a neat hobby. I had a really good time taking pictures this weekend, except today when it was pissing rain, and I'm at least going to pick up a book, or take one class, maybe while I'm back at UCF.

I think that's enough life goals for the moment. Now, a brief summary of my time in the West of Ireland.
Sunday- Read a lot of Tender is the Night while lying in the grass outside in Galway City, decided it was cold and stupid for me to be outside, went back to the hostel and took a long nap, went downstairs and talked to Amy, then went back to bed.

Monday was when the real action started. I got up early, re-packed, and checked out to catch the 10.00 tour bus out to Connemara, which was the only way for me to get to my hostel. That was why I'd never gone to Connemara before, but now I'm really glad I did. I'm still pretty disappointed I wasn't able to get into Galway on Saturday so that I could spend a day at the Aran Islands, but alas. My only real regret about leaving is that I didn't make it up to Derry, and I'm seriously considering going for just a day and night after my leaving party, but it's so far away. It'll depend on how much money I actually get in my severance, for one. But I'm really disappointed that in three trips now I've only been up to the north once, and then only for a night. But hey. What can you do? Back to the tour bus. I was kinda offended by the guide on a couple of occasions, particularly in the derogatory remarks he made about travellers, but he was an okay guy. Not as awesome as the first Bus Eireann guide I had, but probably no one ever will be. I took some really nice pictures at Ashford (I think) Castle, which I was proud of, and ended up getting to the hostel around 1pm, which was way earlier than I expected. I managed to do a whole lot of nothing for most of the afternoon, but I don't really feel bad about it. Everyone else was filling up their packs for day trips, but I'm on holiday. I came for the peace and quiet (of which there was plenty), not the nature or adventure centres. I surfed the internet, took a long nap until the hostel "bar" opened (ahem), and then sat in the bar drinking Coke and eating Pringles while I finished Tender is the Night. Then I chatted some more and went to bed.

Side note. I think I figured out why I don't usually enjoy hostels. I'm too shy. Friends or acquaintances may find this difficult to believe, because I'm usually so obnoxiously outspoken, but in certain situations I'm shy, almost painfully so. I don't like striking up conversations with people. And although I'm warm if you address me first, it usually just leads to me sitting and watching people. There's the added pressure of not knowing if the person you're sitting awkwardly close to speaks English, and no one wants to make an ass of themselves trying. So yeah, some people 'meet so many cool people from all over the world and hang out with them in the destination,' but not me. I didn't mind being alone at all, in fact I really enjoyed it, but I feel like I'm not getting the full hostel experience. The Sleepzone in Connemara was awesome because although I was in a four-bed dorm, I had it to myself both nights, and it was en suite. Awesome. I liked being alone. I was worried (obviously) about being alone in Poland, but I had no problem in an English speaking place with which I was semi-familiar.

Tuesday I got up later than I had intended (around nine), ate toast, then sat and surfed the internet until about eleven. Not true, I wrote the first page and a half of my Lazarus story, which I was actually proud of, but then I had no idea where to go with it, so I put it aside. The hostel workers were all giving me piteous looks because I didn't have friends and I wasn't out clay pigeon shooting or playing laser tag or kayaking, and one girl actually said 'What are YOU going to do today?' - She'd been singing 80s hits at the top of her lungs while cleaning (good for her), but I think she was embarassed when she noticed I was there. Eventually around 11:30 I decided to give in and ask her to suggest a walk. I said I wanted to walk for a couple of hours, so she sent me along a nice little trail that would lead me (thankfully NOT via the super-narrow main road) to Leenane, the nearest village. So I set out, and arrived in Leenane about two hours later. It wasn't actually too bad--some uphill, some spring-hopping, and really really rocky, but it was really beautiful in some places, and I got some more cool pictures. (Side note: My favorite story about my aptitude for hiking: Dad and I had been on the AT for about two minutes when I said, "Dad, you didn't tell me it was UPHILL!") I had a nice meal of chicken burger, taco cheese fries, chocolate cake, and a coke in the village. (They suggested that you bring groceries to the hostel, but I didn't realize how far away the shop REALLY was, and that I would only get bread in the morning.) I'd brought five apples and one can of soup, so I was realllly hungry after my Big Walk. I picked up a can of spaghettios and some water and headed back to the trail. About a quarter of the way it started to drip on me, so I hustled the entire way back, praying that it wouldn't open up on me. (It never did). I got back around five and repeated my routine from the night before: soda, pringles, a book, and the internet. I was proud of my accomplishment.

Wednesday was kinda disappointing. I stayed up until 4am somehow, so when I had to roll out of bed at 9, it sucked. I got dressed, packed up and checked out, then spent two hours just reading in the common room waiting for my tour bus. I was exhausted. The bus dropped me off at 1 on Monday, and he said it would be roughly the same time, so I left the hostel around 12:00. I got to the pick-up point around 12:15, which would have been no big deal, except it was pissing rain. So I stood there in the pissing rain for 40 minutes, and I couldn't even read, because it was raining. I finally got on the bus and we went to Kylemore, but it was pretty disappointing. The castle is impressive from the outside but the inside was only a few rooms. The church was a small Gothic memorial for his wife, but it wasn't actually anything too special. And what I'd really been looking forward to was the Gardens, but it will still cold-raining, so I didn't even bother going out there. I had an expensive lunch at the restaurant and read my book until I got back on the bus, then proceeded to sleep through the rest of the tour, which wasn't that interesting anyway. Caught the 6:00 bus to Cork, got a little sleep, and here I am. It was a nice, de-stressing four days. I think I can tackle four day shifts in a row, starting at 8:00am tomorrow. It's 9:47 now. Wow, I've been writing for an hour. I hope we're nearly to Cork.

(Note to self: I'm going to write letters to some of the residents who really affected me, anonymously, in here. I think that will help me find closure, and it'll be an interesting writing exercise in itself.) Also, it's ironic that I specified that was a note to self, since in essence, this is all a note to myself.