My Kind of Town

Wow. Today was quite an adventure. All day long I kept thinking of little things that I wanted to remember, but I didn't write them down so guess what? I forgot. But I will do my best.

First of all, before I go off onto any accounts of Derry, I want to announce this: I've decided on a college. Wheaton it is! There were many contributing factors to this, but the most notable one is that while both schools have really good English programs, Wheaton is the one with a Creative Writing concentration. Hillsdale doesn't do that at all, which has always been a bit of a concern to me. I just really liked the idea of Hillsdale better, I think - but when it comes down to it, I am about creative writing, not about politics or journalism. Also, Wheaton offered me a surprisingly good financial aid package. And even though this wasn't a make-or-break factor, obviously, the fact that it's a Christian school is a really nice thing. So here we are. I accepted their offer and it's official! It was a tough decision, but I feel good about it. Come August, I am Chicago-bound.

Well then there now. I woke up at 7 and Ray and I were gone by half past 8. He dropped me off outside of the walls of Derry an hour later, and picked me up there at 5. So I had about 7 1/2 hours to wander around on my own. It was a long day, I'm not gonna lie - there's only so much you can see for free. (Now, disclaimer, I'd have spent money if I'd come across something that I couldn't have lived without. But I do try to be careful about how easily I define that standard when I'm out.) Anyway - if you're not familiar with Derry-Londonderry, you should look it up; the history of that city is incredible. It's Ireland's only complete walled city left - meaning that there is a huge wall that goes around the city in a complete circle, and the only way to get in it by entering at one of the four main gates. Most of its fame came from the Siege of Derry in the 1600's, when James II and William of Orange were duking it out for the throne of England. There are too many interesting facts about all of that for me to write here - but look it up, if that sort of thing interests you. Battalions, cannons (Roaring Meg, anyone?), the Apprentice Boys (Derry-ians are OBSESSED with those fellows)... it's all there. Also, since it's on the border of Ireland and Northern Ireland (the city is literally split by a river - the Protestant half on one side, the Catholic half on the other), it was an incredibly important and dramatic place during the Troubles. Ray and I talked about the Nationalists vs. the Loyalists for the entire car-ride up there - I learned so much! After a month and a half of living with the Irish and talking with them about the Troubles when I felt brave enough to bring it up, I finally feel like I have an accurate and un-biased knowledge of what's been happening here for the last hundred years. Obviously nobody can ever know the whole story, and there's no easy "cause" or first offense to point at - there's been so much wrong on both sides. But I understand it much better than I did before - definitely (and I don't say this to brag) better than most Americans my age, anyway.

Apparently you can walk around the entire circuit of the walls in less than an hour, if you don't stop to read any of the plaques along the way. But I read them. I also went down every staircase leading to the inner-city streets that I came to, and followed every rabbit-trail I fancied following, before heading back up to the top of the walls again. Oh! Fascinating fact: the walls of Derry have been closed to the public for decades, since the city saw so much violence during the Troubles and the British army didn't want any Nationalist snipers being able to use the built in vantage-points above the city. It's only in the past ten years or so that the walls were opened to the public again. Most natives of Ireland, unless they live close to the city, have never been up there. Anyway - so I spent a few hours doing that, and eventually I had walked pretty much every street in the city. By then I still had more than five hours, so I left through one of the riverside gates and headed toward the Peace Bridge. (Only built in 2011, I think. It was apparently built to show the good will of both sides and the hope for unity to increase. Because although the Troubles are officially over, obviously there is still tension in some circles.) So the Bridge crosses over the River Foyle, in all its shiny white glory. I walked across, strolled down the banks on the other side, walked up to an observation deck to take some pictures (and offered to take a family photo for a nearby family, only to be turned down because apparently they live there or something... psh.), and then walked back across. Except on my way back across, I stopped at the bench that is exactly halfway in the middle, pulled out Breakfast at Tiffany's (which I haven't really touched since I started it by the Shannon in Limerick) and read the last half above the Foyle. There was an old man down the bench from me, and the whole time I was reading, he just stared out in front of him. The whole time I was really impressed at his ability to think such deep, encompassing thoughts - but when I stood up to leave, I realized that he'd been sleeping. I'm not sure if that's more impressive or not.

I walked back to the city, climbed back up to the wall, and walked around once again. I also ate my lunch by the cannons - the rest of the walnuts from home, and an apple I'd brought along. (Again, if I'd been starving, I would have bought food. But oh well. Call it training for our upcoming vagabond days in some of Europe's most expensive cities. I will say that I ate that apple to within an inch of its life, though.) Then I went into the Cathedral. I hadn't gone in earlier because the weather was so GORGEOUS today while I was out, and I was afraid that it wouldn't last - so I figured if it started raining, I would just pop into the church. But as it turned out, the sky was blue and clear pretty much all day - it was glorious. Anyway, so I went into the Cathedral then, which was cool but not the greatest I've seen. I'm also tired of going into places with a "suggested donation" instead of a fee. Seriously, people - it's not a suggestion, and it's not a donation. You rob us in the name of our good will. But aaaaanyway - they did have a cool museum attached to the Cathedral, and in one of the cases, they had the four locks and keys that the Apprentice Boys used to shut the gates against King James II. (He wanted to replace his formerly-Protestant garrisons with Catholic ones, as I understand it. The afore-mentioned Protestants feared that he planned to then massacre all the Protestants in the city, and they didn't want to be replaced, anyhow. So while everyone was arguing about what to do, 13 Apprentice Boys took the matter into their own hands, and locked down the city - an act of open defiance which began the 105-day siege.)

Oh, also, apparently the fellow who wrote "Amazing Grace" became a Christian while his ship was off the coast of Donegal (Agnes told me that), and for awhile after that, his ship was harbored in Derry's harbor. He prayed in St. Columba's Cathedral twice daily until it was ready to set sail again. Also, Cecil Alexander (writer of the hymns "One in Royal David's City", "There is a Green Hill Far Away", and "All Things Bright and Beautiful" - not really any of my favorites, but there you have it) went to that church. Or something... there's some connection between her and the Cathedral. OH, I think her husband was the Bishop. hmm, I should know that... anyway, apparently the "green hill" that inspired her to write that song was the hill across Bogside - which is clearly visible from the walls and is now a huge cemetery. She and her husband are buried there. Knowing the history of Derry, it was especially poignant to read the words of her hymn:

"There is a green hill, far away,
Outside a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all."

It must have felt incredibly lonely, at times, to live in a city so literally locked into its own turmoil. I can just imagine sitting by the windows of St. Columba's, looking at the greenery of the hill and wishing that I was free.

In fact I could imagine it so well that I decided to walk there. I had about two hours, anyway. So I left the city again, this time by the opposite gate, and walked across the rather dilapidated town on the Bogside - referred to in places as "Free Derry." Kind of a sketchy area, really. Especially because once I got there, there was no clear way up to the hill with the cemetery - so I spent quite a while wandering around the streets there. Although I did have an interesting encounter with three little girls while I was wandering. I was walking up a street (I think by then I was on the right track), and all the sudden I heard a kid yell, "Air-yew Spanish?!"
I looked around and saw three little girls across the street from me. "Air-yew Spanish?!" They yelled again.
"Me? No..."
They ran across the street to me. "Where are you from?"
Me: "I'm from America."
Girls 3: "You don't sound American."
Girl 1: "How do you say 'three' in American?"
Me: "Um... 'three'."
Girl 1: "How do you say 'Anna' in American?"
Girl 2: "What's your name?"
Me: "Laura."
Girl 3: "You sound like us."
Girl 1: "Where are your friends?"
Me: "In America."
Girl 2: "You came by yourself?"
Me: "I did, yes."
Girl 1: "I wouldn't have come by myself. Did you come on a plane?"
Me: "Yup. You can't drive across the ocean."
Girl 1: "What?!"
Me: "I tried but they wouldn't let me."
Girl 3: "Do you have a car?!"
Me: "I do, but it's not here."
Girl 1: "Where is it?"
Me: "In America."
Girl 2: "Do you drive here?"
Me: "Not here, no. Because here you drive on the wr - the opposite side of the road, and I'd probably get in a crash."

Here they all started asking me questions at the same time and I couldn't understand them - and then, as quickly as they'd come, they said goodbye and ran across the street and disappeared into a house. Take from that what you will.

Eventually I got up to the cemetery, and I walked around there for about an hour. It's pretty much across a big valley/town/bog from the City Walls, and it's got a fairly good elevation from the top, so there was a lovely view around me. Also, some of the tombstones were really old, so that was interesting. One of the things I've noticed about Irish gravestones, though, is that they're almost always really sad. Most (not all, but most) epitaphs in America would tend to be a bit more hopeful - maybe because our culture is so uncomfortable with death in general, so we try to sugar-coat it. But these ones are just so... hopeless. It was actually really depressing.

Anyway, I walked back and got to the Tourist Info Center in plenty of time for Ray to meet me. We talked more history and politics and family stories, and got home in time for dinner and another game of Clue. I like these evenings in. Well my goodness - I think this may be my longest post. I've been writing on and off for almost two hours. I was going to try to upload pictures tonight, but it's almost midnight and I'm a bit tired... so maybe tomorrow. Aaron took his clock back, so hopefully I won't sleep all day.

By the way, the sunset tonight was GORGEOUS. I'm content. Things are good.