Lonely 'Round the Fields

I would like to preface this by admitting that I can't properly spell 'fields', I instinctively go for 'feilds' and it is only the little red squiggly line and the memory of a friend's mocking correction on the day I'm about to describe that prevents me from doing so above. I before E has failed me, the exceptions to that supposed golden rule always make me second guess myself- 'does it sound like neighbor or weigh?'

But anyway, a few days ago I took another little Irish day trip to the nearby-ish town of Athenry, almost purely off of the desire to see the location so romanticized in my favorite Irish tune: The Fields of Athenry. If you haven't heard it, you should go click that YouTube now and let it play as you read the rest of this post. And if you know it well and love it, still click and listen anyway and hum along for the fun of it, because it's so pretty and heartbreaking. We got there by train, the first time I've taken such transportation in Ireland over a coach bus, which is also definitely my favorite way to travel, hands down. It's a fairly small town, characterized by being an intact, well-preserved medieval city. Much of the inner circle is modernized and fully functioning, but it's still surrounded by a centuries-old stone wall, sports a gorgeous monastery, neat castle with free video and 1 euro admission, creepy cemetery and is, of course, surrounded by fields. Much of Ireland is farmland or rolling hills so that's not really a surprise or anything particularly exceptional, but I set out that day with the solid intention of belting 'Fields of Athenry' in the middle of a field of Athenry, with my friends or by myself if necessary.

The first place we stopped at in the town was an old cemetery and church. Creepy enough to wander through on a cloudy afternoon, the atmosphere was made significantly more frightening when I creaked open the door of the large stone cathedral to be greeted with the silhouette of a kneeling hooded monk. Part of an exhibit about the area's history, seeing an ancient holy man in front of a glowing stained glass window was a bit of a shock. I don't really think the woman working the tickets to the exhibit quite appreciated my running out as fast as I could and forcing my two friends to repeat my slow-opening shock experience. But to be fair, I didn't see her/know there was a live person in the building and there is absolutely no way we were the first people to have that reaction to the figure.

So she was a bit standoffish, and we decided to forego an interactive dress-up exhibit about old Athenry and instead ventured to the nearby castle. Everything in the town was really extraordinarily walk-able and after enjoying the castle, we were given wonderfully helpful advice by the curators of the building on how to find a really great field. (Yes, this does mean that I awkwardly asked the woman working behind the counter where I could find some fields. I think they get it a lot- the town certainly was capitalizing on the song, anyway.) So they pointed us toward a holy well, where it is said that Mary appeared to give comfort to the dying on a battlefield there years before. Each year on August 15th there is a gathering of faithful who process out of that site. It was a really beautiful spot and peaceful garden, and an area we would likely have never known about without the advice of a helpful local.

Getting to the well and back was a little bit of a hike, but provided some very good views of the medieval architecture from afar, enabled us to make more friends with animals, and of course, sing some lovelorn Irish ballads. The Fields of Athenry is a really, really sad song, and I'm not sure why it's my favorite- I'm normally one for upbeat and happy, positive and life affirming. It was one we sang frequently when visiting the local elder care center with Ros Geal house, and the several others we sang there also hold a special place in my memory now because of that. I suppose I identify with it in some way: while I can't at all compare myself to a basically-widowed young woman bidding farewell to her husband as he is shipped away to a prison colony for stealing food for their children, the theme of being far away from home and reminiscing on happy times certainly holds true to me.  It's been rough, mostly lately, being away from school. I have made friends here that are absolutely wonderful individuals, who are now so important to me that I can't imagine not knowing them, which only further cements the idea of never being able to have all the people you want in your life. Or me in my life, I suppose would be more accurate. It's one of the trade offs of global inter-connectivity. With Facebook I have been able to get a hold of anyone, at any time, which is nice but also overwhelming. Maybe having hundreds of photos of my friends having fun right in my face at all hours isn't the healthiest situation while grappling with homesickness.

In the Athenry castle, there were a lot of interesting doors that were always locked when I tried to push or pry or pull them open. I kept trying, though, and was vaguely annoyed when each of my friends opened a similar-looking door on two separate occasions the first time they tried. I never did open one that afternoon, but there is probably an inspirational message there about 'one door closing and another one opening' that I should apply to my life. Transition times always make me anxious, as my parents can agree to each time they pick my cranky self up from school, as do uncertain or hastily changed plans. At the moment I'm struggling with both, but I've seen worse and will certainly be fine getting through. The small free birds are flying above Athenry, and for just now, I'm one of them- and that's pretty nice.