Ho Ho Ho.
It feels a bit odd when people wish you Merry Christmas in the middle of December, but the marathon has kicked off even earlier. I think the first person to wish me Merry Christmas said this on the 3rd of December. And although this is supposed to be the season of joy and happiness, in a somewhat magic way as of the 1st of December Dubliners lost their usual easy come easy go attitude and turned into an army of angry shopaholics.
Shopping became part of Dublin life a long time before I had noticed a poster on Dublin Bus SHOPPING culture ENTERTAINMENT. The add was supposed to promote all three of the above, but the design of the poster was suggesting that Dublin equals to Shopping culture and Entertainment. Skip culture. Unfortunately quite often it is exactly like that. Unless you come to Dublin for some fiddle tunes.
A few weeks ago my sister was asking me to suggest a museum where she could bring her 12-year-old daughter and a 7-year-old son (they've been living in Ireland for over 7 years). Natural History Museum had been closed until further notice and I couldn‘t come up with any other ideas. You might accuse me of ungrounded bellyaching again, but this reminds me of a visit to Van Gogh’s Museum in Amsterdam, where they have special guide books for children. Kids are being asked to find particular details or colours or shapes in the paintings, observe differences and similarities with comprehensive and unfussy explanations. Last weekend I was in London and while strolling through Tate Modern and National Portrait Gallery I encountered quite a few parents and teachers with children. Looking at a dinosaur replica is one thing, but teaching to read paintings is another.
Anyway. Although constant state of shopping (despite the reason of need) - another attribute of the West - can be encountered in Dublin throughout the whole year (think Henry Street for instance), it reaches its pinnacle in December with Merry Christmas as a driving force behind it.
According to Deloitte’s annual consumer survey Irish households will spend on average §1,431 on Christmas this year. Compare this with §411 in the Netherlands; §420 in Germany and §556 in France. Of the Irish figure, a total of §720 will be spent on gifts, §431 on food with §279 on socialising.
My friend’s colleague who keeps constantly complaining about the lack of money and lives with her mother took a loan from the bank - 3500 euros - which she will spend on Christmas gifts. Next year she’ll be working for the sake of Christmas.
As I was looking for a coat last week I realized that the virus of “thingism” (a desire for things) is highly contagious. Indeed there are so many pretty things out there that cry to be bought. The handbags and the glad rags. Things which you desire, but you will never need. And have you noticed - although this is the season of happiness - everybody seems to be angry! Spend three hours in a shopping mall and you will feel as exhausted as a mountain climber who has just made it to the peak of Everest. That virus of thingism sucks out your spirits and leaves you a replica of consumerism fighting for those gifts. Although it is supposed to be a season of joy and happiness. Ho ho ho you’re in the army now.
In search for response to Christophe's comments on begging, over the past few days I came across two stories in the morning newspapers.
But in the meantime I just want to mention that of course, Christophe, when speaking of freedom I meant to say that our independence and the EU expansion opened the gate and we flooded through them driven by economic necessity and selfishness, yet we chose to work rather than to beg, even when a few years ago we were working illegally, without work permits, often for less than the minimum wage, but we worked, we were not begging (!). And I think I've written enough in my blog about Irish in order for you not to get the impression that I call all Irish street people. God forbid!
According to the recent stories, child begging is up by 30 percent in Ireland and according to some officials, the hike was due to both a change in legislation making it no longer illegal for adults to beg and the growing numbers of Roma in Ireland. This story only heralds my previous post in some way, yet I don't have the answer with a possible solution for this dilema.
Also I discovered that accordng to Dublin Simon Community, about a quarter of Dublin's homeless population suffer from serious mental illness and this is the question of the chicken and the egg: was it mental illness that drove them to the streets or are the streets to be blamed for their mental condition? Either way this should be tackled, but a penny or even a shiny euro jingleing into the empty "Starbucks" cup won't solve the problem.
Come ye who thirsty or starve or are simply lazy and the Celtic Tiger will embrace you all.
I suppose I was 20. Not that I am past my prime now, with grandchildren racing in the shadow of an apple tree thriving underneath my window, begonias on the windowsill and a duck roasting quietly in the oven. Anyway, I was 20. Third year in college, great expectations, naiveness, etc. I was in America. How incredible that even after the recent dark ages across the Atlantic (paranoic war on terrorism, Iraq, economic crisis, shootings in schools) those tree words still carry an aura of magic. The first glimpse at New York's Manhattan, skyscrapers, astounding feeling that nobody cares about you, therefore there is no need to feel uberimportant, black people, enormous traffic, over air-conditioned "Greyhound" busses, "Amtrak" trains, industrial suburbs of New Jersey, a guy with a python across his shoulders on the bus stop in Camden, a kid selling something colorful in a dinger, a street preacher moralizing about Jesus and Apocalypse and a vagabond shoving a tattered "Starbucks" cup into my face. No change, no change!
If you arrive to a Western country from Central/Eastern Europe, panhandling mostly leaves you outraged, the main difference being the fact that in Central/Eastern Europe you could rarely see fit young men and women, physically capable of working, begging on the streets. If you boarded a plane to Lithuania, you would mainly encounter old weary women on their knees asking for change besides Baroque churches. Throughout my explorations to the USA, the UK, France, Ireland, Italy and Spain I've never seen elderly women begging. Honestly - don't remember such an occurrence. Beggars in the West are fit and well capable of working. Men panhandling besides ATMs, restaurants, on Ha'penny Bridge, besides cars stuck in traffic... Have you noticed that the vast majority of them have hands and feet? Therefore I'm convinced they are in the streets not because they can't get a job or are incapable of working, but because they have chosen panhandling as a style of life.
I encountered panhandlers for the first time when I was walking towards underground station in Philly, USA. At first I couldn't even get - what's the problem? Why so much anger?
Over the past two and a half years that I'd spent in Dublin, I came to conclusion that panhandlers in this country are mainly junkies. Not as angry as in the States, but typically all young. Ironically, quite often they find shelter underneath or besides signs "Staff wanted".
I went to the ATM to withdraw some cash a few weeks ago, but some guy was in my way blocking the access. He apologized and placed himself underneath the money machine.
"Nice day", he said.
"I wonder if for long", added.
"Indeed", I answered.
"Good for you, I'm sure you can enjoy it", he muttered in a voice rehearsed for zillions of times.
"Have you got any spare change?" he asked.
"Sorry", I replied.
Panhandling besides ATMs in Ireland is a tremendously common sight. As a matter of fact, panhandling in general is acutely popular over here. Some say because of the widening gap between the poor and the rich - while some get more and more prosperous others become even more poverty-stricken. Sometimes it is the case, although knowing for a fact that dozens of able-bodied Lithuanians bulldozed their way to various benefits from the Celtic Tiger (on top of working 40, 50 or 60 hour weeks), I tend to think that panhandling nowadays for many has become a kind of occupation - despite vast opportunities on the job market. Although Irish still can't compare to the impeccability of the skills needed to, let's say, Italians. During my two-week-long stay in Italy this spring I learned of such numerous ways of mooching money that I could kick start a new career. I.e. distribute a flyer with a picture of a small girl on the train. She has one month to live. This is my daughter. Please help. I gave a euro - damn it, I couldn't look at that picture without apathy.
As of the 1st of January 2007 the number of those, who day in and day out live with a hand reaching out for small change, has even increased over here. New citizens of the expanded EU flooded the streets. But instead of IT professionals and laborers of mushroom factories, it was an army of gaudy skirts with a marching band of accordions. Until now if you ever met an Irish child on the streets of Dublin, it was a busker with a bucket in front. If you hit the streets of Dublin today, you encounter dozens of children, 10-year-olds and younger, with a hand reaching out for change (what a connotation of the word!). "Spare some change, madam" become the first English words they learn.
Once a Dutch woman whom I got to know while working in the shop, stressed to me that begging in the street with children is illegal in the Netherlands. In fact, during a couple of weekends spent over there, I had never encountered beggars. Just a quick glance of a tourist, which, obviously, could as well be quite wrong. During a few days spent in Denmark I was approached by a beggar only once. A friend of mine gave him a cigarette.
A couple of months ago a young beggar won his High Court claim that a law outlawing begging in a public place is unconstitutional because it excessively interferes with his right of freedom of expression. I guess, the expression of freedom can be interpreted in many ways nowadays.
Emigrants from Romania and Bulgaria risk being stopped from entering Ireland until the end of next year because of entry restrictions on low-skilled workers. In order to work in Ireland, they need work permits. Just 106 work permits were granted to Romanians this year and only 33 workers from Bulgaria were given access.
If I went for a stroll in certain areas of Dublin, I can bet a bottle of good wine, that in a few hours I could calculate more than a hundred of gaudy skirts or their mustached cavaliers. No, not those with accordions in their hands. And not those photographing the architecture of Dublin. But those exhibiting their freedom of expression. Because there can be no embargos for it. On the other hand, I could probably still calculate more pahnandling Irish, staying on the streets because they have chosen to. Despite the fact that there are numerous signs in town saying "staff needed".
Freedom lulled thousands of Lithuanians to Ireland like honey does the bees, while the Irish, allured by it, hit the streets. Isn't it ironic?
Time is too short for those who rejoice, (my social documentary project was quite a success) therefore I didn't notice that I'm one day late to post this.
Happy Thanksgiving Mr Bush and the rest of the mankurts. Greetings to Mr William S. Burroughs who's ass is probably being sizzled in hell. 
For those who by now have realized they have gone weary of people and themselves.
For those who get tired of 8 to 5 office jobs.
For those who don't see anything new on 7 o'clock evening news anymore.
For those who think they haven't found happiness yet.
Please watch Sean Penn's new movie "Into the wild" in order to understand that happiness is only real when shared. Listen to Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder's soundtrack in the meantime. Immense beauty.
Sometimes we tend to underrate our people, we are inclined to hand them over to others. You live in New York and they say that you have become a New Yorker, in France - then you have become French. This is a susceptibility of small nations. Big ones never hand over or underrate their people.
The quote belongs to Jonas Mekas, a Lithuanian filmmaker and the co-founder of Anthology Film Archives in New York, one of the world's largest and most important repositories of avant-garde films. Mr Mekas has just returned to Lithuania for a while to open Jonas Mekas Visual Arts Center in the capital Vilnius.
As usual, political matters were not avoided (politicians are always there where big names are present). The ex mayor of the capital Arturas Zuokas, demonstrating ambitions to rally for the presidency of Lithuania, yet facing constant criticism about his financial supporters, has been immensely involved in the opening of the center and also was one of the initiators of a request submitted to our president to grant Mr Mekas the citizenship of Lithuania (dual citizenship is very hard to get in my country). The citizenship was granted indeed. The journalists in the meantime kept quizzing Mr Mekas what were his feelings about the citizenship and Mr Zuokas. The film-maker managed to avoid any political statements and keeps shooting. One movie a day. Highly recommend watching. Avant-garde cinema par excellence.
I would like to mention here that the issue of belonging to Lithuania and the passport as a sign of acknowledgment is a bizarre one. As far as I understand, because of Soviet Union Mr Mekas lost Lithuanian citizenship (since this country ceased to exist until 1990), but the possession of it would not change anything. Figures like him are citizens of the world with their roots geographically undistinguishable. He left the country at the age of 22. And although he claims that he has never renounced Lithuanian citizenship, it is a pity the matter has become of great political importance. And it seems that everybody apart Mr Mekas himself are greatly involved in the subject. In 2050 Lithuanians will probably boast him as one of the greatest Lithuanians ever, although the future of his Visual Arts Centre is still under question and many people in rural areas haven't got a clue who he is. To expand on Mr Mekas' remark, small nations need their heroes otherwise they don't feel like they exist. They must claim their gods back.
I can see some parallels with Ireland here, but I'm frightened to despise its gods.
The pigeon must be Chinese or from some other country which has mastered martial arts. It has escaped. Was about to open the box, but I found it open already: with the brick tossed away, shit in the box and one feather. No sign of blood. I presume it must have had enough rest. The brick weighted about half a pound!
PS
Sorry - don't have any photos...
I get all kinds of customers coming into the shop. But never before have I seen a pigeon. A white one, with fluffy feathers and an imposing tail. He strolled into the shop just like that. At around 4 pm. Not flew in, but strolled in. Before that he hit the window of the hairdresser's next door. Twice. Like in a A. Hitchcock movie. Walked into the "Spar" nearby. And then decided to wander aimlessly in the pharmacy for a while.
I got a roll for him. Or her. It is hard for me to decide on the gender of pigeons. What are the indications, by the way?
Phoned the ISPCA.
Hello? I'm phoning from a wine shop in Churchtown. We've got a pigeon wandering around the neighborhood. A really nice pigeon. With a huge tail and a ring on its leg. What should I do?
They suggested to catch the pigeon, close it in a box, give some food and water and by tomorrow morning he or she should be all fit to fly again. After all it is a racing pigeon, they informed me. It must be tired. Off I went.
It is in a Valpolicella box at the moment. After a couple of minutes of stumbling around the neighboring shops I managed to catch it. It has some bread and water and a stone on the box to keep it from panicking. In the back of the shop. Would this be considered as animal torture? Was trying to negotiate with my boss to let it stay in the cellar overnight, but with no success. He called all pigeons flying rats. Be they racing or not. Hopefully, by tomorrow morning it will be fit to fly. I promise to update on that.
It is not easy to get used to the fact that I don't live on my own anymore. I'm a bad housemate and even worse as a roommate. I have to have my space, where others can't set their foot in. I have to have my cell of meditation where I can mumble to myself, scribble to you, perform in front of mirrors and indulge in reflective solitude.
A selfish kick-off for a monday morning.
For the past four days I have been sharing a room of my own with my best friend who after a few years of hesitations, persuasions and dubieties finally boarded "Ryanair" flight to Dublin. And for the past four days my 80 sq feet or so have been flooded with expectations and visions with spells of regret. Although visions prevail. Despite the troubles that emerge because of severe intimacy. On the other hand, my friends observations shed light on some things which I started to forget or got so used to that I barely even notice them. These are as follows:
***
A trip from Dublin Airport on Bus No. 16A. Somewhere around Phibsborough she exclaimed with childish disbelief:
Look! Walking in slippers!
***
Somewhere in town she suddenly scowled with disgust:
The stench of pee!
I hardly even noticed any...
***
After a job interview she was surprised that by the end of it the interviewer called her by name. She remarked it felt very personal.
***
Despite the fact that Eastern Europeans keep slagging off Irish about being fat, my friend was wondering, where are those fat people?
***
TO LET. At first she was thinking these are signs for public TOILETS with the letter I pealed off. I wish...
***
Everybody is nuts about anything organic.
***
In terms of salaries food is inexpensive.
***
She admired the fact that there are zillions of small shops.
***
Wine lists in the restaurants describe wines rather than just stating "Torres Esmeralda" or "Concha Y Torro Cabernet Sauvignon".
***
Pennies is great!
***
"Guinness" is tasty!
I think she'll be just fine in Ireland, won't she?
"Lithuania" was not the first one. "Homeland" was shut before that and afterwards "Vilnius" was sold. The names of cinemas in my native Vilnius always used to be symbolic. Although I much prefer the way they sounded in the beginning of the 20th century: "Eden", "Fantasy", "Family". Nowadays only "Forums" and "Plazas" survive.
Dublin is much the same.
We're supposed to produce a social documentary project for the photography course. After deciding to leave out the issue of immigrants for now, I came with an idea to shoot closed down cinemas of Dublin. To search for the time lost.
In 2004 it was estimated that cinema audiences in Ireland are among the highest in Europe. The annual frequency of cinema going per capita here (at 4.5 visits per year in 2002) was only surpassed by Iceland’s (5.7 visits).
Although the number of screens in Ireland has increased by 72%, to 328 screens during the period 1991–2001, the number of cinemas in Ireland has reduced by 15% over the same period, but many cinemas were already shut by that time.
When I was in Krakow in January, we went for a stroll alongside a square similar in size to St. Steven's Green Park. There were at least five cinemas neighboring it. Shabby, decaying, run-down. With paint flaking off the walls. They were showing Polish and Central European cinema. In some of them you could still puff on your cigarette or sip at a pint of "Żywiec".
I managed to tally eleven cinemas in Dublin. Out of them IFI is the only one that screens movies that will never make it to the lists of top-grossing blockbusters. What's left are multiplexes with dozens of screens, dreadful sound isolation and carpets mantled with pop corn. These days Tarkovsky* we watch on DVD while the big screen is dedicated to "Spider-Man". The first. The second. The third.
*By the way, Kris Kelvin in "Solaris" is played by an accomplished Lithuanian actor Donatas Banionis. 
Classic Cinema. Demolished in June 2007.
Just like the Irish claim that Guinness doesn't taste the same anywhere outside Ireland (and I've been assured more than once, because, apparently it doesn't travel), Japanese get parcels with miso soup and noodles posted by their mothers (Yamamori or Wagamama do not serve Japanese food), there are a few Lithuanian specialties that I have a longing for. Although as time goes by, I discover that Polish, Belorussians or Latvians claim that those specialties are in fact theirs. After all, in the 14th century Lithuania ruled Belarus (the orange is Lithuania stretching from the Baltic to the Black sea!) and then Polish ruled us and what was ours became theirs and v.v. Eastern Europe became a concoction of local cultures. No wonder Irish or English can't tell the difference between Polish and Lithuanians. Neither can I sometimes - apart from the language.
The other day I was dashing to a local Polish shop called "Samo Dobro" (Only The Best) for some twaróg which in Lithuania we call VARŠKĖ [think varshkay]. It bears some resemblance to cottage cheese (although I haven't seen Irish ever buying it), but is less salty and usually comes in one lump rather than small bits similar to, excuse me, hamster feces. Back to food :)
I entered the shop.
Dzień Dobry, said quite a pleasant guy behind the counter and I stuttered Hello. I do understand some Polish, can utter a few words, but I don't speak Polish.
I headed for twaróg section, took one and went back to the counter.
Jeden pięćdziesiąt pięć or something along those lines came out of his mouth and I could figure out it is less than two Euro. I gave him the money. He gave me the change, said dziekuje. Thanks very much, I replied to that. Do widzenia he said. Good bye, I responded.
It was a all a bit like in Jim Jarmusch's movie Down by Law where Roberto Benigni's character, an Italian tourist with zero English, is is yelling I scream you scream we all scream for ice-cream to a bunch of Americans sharing a prison cell with him in Orleans Parish Prison.
It is possible the guy could have taken me for a Polish refusing to speak Polish. But I only came for some twaróg . A Lithuanian specialty in a Polish shop.
As I was striding to my local shop to buy some beans, a lovely six-year-old girl was strolling towards me. Pressed uniform, shiny shoes, curly red hair. She had just bought a chocolate bar and was unwrapping it eagerly. After removing paper she dumped it without a blink on the ground and walked away. Teeny-weeny bitch!
On the other hand, behavior of such kind doesn't come as a surprise, since this week we all got a chance to discover (again) that Dublin had the most litter on its streets when compared with nine other major European cities: Riga, Vienna, Strasbourg, Cologne, Barcelona, Copenhagen, Zurich, Stockholm and Amsterdam.
The lack of litter-fine enforcement is blamed for the high level of litter in Dublin.
Lithuania's neighbor's Latvia's capital Riga was the cleanest city surveyed. In Vienna, which came second in the survey and was also declared "Clean", 30 new Litter Sheriffs have been appointed to enforce litter fines.
Although recently the on-the-spot litter fine in Ireland was increased from €125 to €150, figures indicate that less than half (12,521) of the litter fines issued in the latter half of 2006 were paid, which equates to only 1.5 litter fines issued per local authority per day.
Apparently, official explanation is that many of those caught discarding food wrappers and cigarette butts simply give false names and addresses to litter wardens.
Hire Lithuanians! You should see how our bus conductors bully students and unemployed likewise until they pay the fine.
On the other hand, Dublin desperately needs more bins: in the bus stops, in residential areas and, of course, in the city centre.
Fare play to Riga! I wonder what would have been the outcome if Lithuania's capital Vilnius had been surveyed.
George Bush says that the largest threat to the USA is the ghost of terrorism. But in fact it is water and fire that terrorize the USA. Hurricane Caterina and wildfires in California. A country with a military that has a budget of 532.8 billion US dollars is impotent in the face of the nature.
As I was watching "Jasminum" in the IFI yesterday, millions of Poles in Poland and thousands here, in Ireland, were casting their votes in a life-and-death parliamentary election. A number of them were queuing besides the embassy of Poland in Ballsbridge for more than three hours. Rumor has it that some even borrowed children from the couples who had already cast their vote in order to avoid the queue. Some say the voting in the embassy didn't finish until after midnight.
Yet despite the fact that the voting procedure was not organized thoroughly and although only 21,000 Poles out of 63,000 living in Ireland (that is officially, although few doubt there are at least a couple of hundred thousand) registered to vote (14,000 in Dublin, with over 3,000 in Cork and Limerick each), Poland's liberal opposition defeated the Kaczynski twin tandem. WE WON!!!! :-D 44-31!!!! may go back to my country!!! - texted a Polish friend of mine yesterday, at around 11pm.
It looks like Poles had enough of former child film stars. During two years in power (Lech Kaczynski, the president, does not face an election until 2010), the conservative Kaczynskis have constantly tumbled into quarrels with the EU partners. Gay people started to flee Poland in fear of possible prosecution.
With 99% of votes counted, Donald Tusk's pro-EU party received more than 41% of the votes, while Mr Kaczynski's Law and Justice (PiS) got about 32%. Turnout was the highest recorded in Poland since communism fell in 1989 - 53,79%.
After the first results were announced, Mr Tusk expressed his gratitude to emigrants, because about 70 percent of them voted in favor of pro-western opposition. It looks like the campaigning before the election has paid off. More than 175,000 Poles registered to vote abroad in Sunday's election, well over three times as many as for the last ballot in 2005, official figures showed. In Britain and Ireland alone over 68,000 registered to vote. Some 31,000 registered in the United States.
Tusk's Civic Platform has promised lower taxes and a more business-friendly administration with closer ties to Europe. Poland certainly needs that.
Let's hope that this is the the end of Twin Peaks (as my Polish friend calls it) in Rzeczpospolita Polska. And hopefully Civil Platform will not take over the baton from other promising Eastern/Central European parties who after managing to come out on top in the elections failed to find dialogue within their team and with their political allies. Think Ukraine. Think Lithuania.
✌
Alright, I stop any pretenses in regards to Polish tonight. I've applauded them (the ones who came to Ireland) on many things: their movie festivals in the IFI (by the way, Seksmisja was absolutely hilarious and I'm expecting Jasminum to be good), their ability to fight for their rights, find niches in the job market, etc. But the news about a group of Polish campaigning for the recognition of Polish as a third official language of Ireland, alongside English and Gaelic, was too much for me. I have never heard about a Polish community magazine "Sowa" mentioned in the story before and I don't know how many supporters its publisher Marcin Wrona has.
Signs "Tutaj pracujemy po polsku" (Eng. "We work in Polish here") in the grocery shops, hairdressers, opticians and in many other places have become a common sight in Ireland over the past few years. In fact, perhaps these signs and attempts to make customer service for Polish residents of Ireland understandable are to blame for the fact that multitudes of them still don't speak any or can at most offer you poor English. If they had to make a leap of faith and started communicating in English in the banks, cafes, supermarkets and beauty salons, there probably wouldn't be much need for a third official language in Ireland (and even those signs).
Perhaps immigrants from Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia should consider the idea in France, Mexicans - in the USA, Turks - in Germany and... Irish in the UK? Yet Ireland is quite smaller than any of these countries (by the way, Poland's population exceeds Ireland's by 10 times). And although Ireland was voted recently as the world's friendliest country in "Lonely Planet" Blue List I beg not to abuse this country's hospitality.
By the way, does anybody know if the magazine "Sowa" is of any significance? Somehow I have a feeling it's not even noteworthy and in that case I sincerely hope that the rant above is not necessary.
What's the most annoying thing about immigrants coming to Dublin? Their unhappiness with the city. Especially Eastern Europeans. Would you agree? I catch myself doing that sometimes, or perhaps even often. But whenever I encounter such bellyachings I try to say (and to myself): come on, but you are not chained to the Spire and the flights are cheap!
On the other hand, I suppose the easiest way to stop complaining is to start looking for bonus points. Among other ones (Irish hospitality, sense of humor, ability to always have a story to tell, sublime nature (if it doesn't rain...), the sea, variety of wine and beer (that's in comparison to Lithuania), "Laser" DVD rental, etc.) I would like to add one more thing, which I discovered today. Dublin Docklands, in particular the right bank (if you stand facing the sea). 
To be honest, I've never been on the right bank before, mostly I stayed on the left one. Of course, the area can't compare to Copenhagen yet, where modern architecture is flourishing, but since today the light was extraordinary, glass constructions looked so refreshingly different to traditional Dublin: pubs, shabby pubs and more pubs. In fact architecture is one of those things I miss most when in Ireland and although Docklands are still expanding, the area seems to be promising. Just more terraced cafes needed, some trees, a few exhibition centres, bookshops and ... Imagination has no limits. I just hope construction companies and local government will realize that it would be great not to get stuck with apartments and office buildings only.
There is another reason I am so hyper about Dublin today. A journalist writing for the website I was working for before came to Dublin recently and yesterday she posted some photos from Dublin and captions for them in the editorial blog. I feel an obligation to mention and translate a few, since they are unexpectedly positive! And truth be told, they reminded me some good things about the city I've been living in for the past two years and a half. Here is Dublin as seen by a Lithuanian journalist Egle Digryte:
* Some fountains remind artworks rather than just mere architectural solutions. (she mentioned this one in particular)
* Footprints or handprints on the pavement look very playful.
* Dublin is incredibly colorful. (Here I would like to comment that it is Georgian doors that make that impression, in my opinion Dublin is quite monotonous, just plenty of red brick)
* Houses with climbing ivies on them.
* There are more plants and flowers in Dublin than in any other major city she has been to.
Despite the fact that the journalist came to conclusion she wouldn't like to live in Dublin, these are definitely some of the facts I will try to remember next time before starting another rant about the Irish capitol Dublin.
Some of you might remember that I was bitching about my old bed. The good news is that the landlord managed to replace it! It's almost new, firm and really high. I call it sexodrome :-)
After replacing the bed my landlord told me there two good things you need in life.
"One is a good bed. What's the other?" he asked me.
"Somebody to sleep with in that bed?" was my pragmatic answer and he started laughing.
"Good shoes", he replied. "Because you if are not in one, you're in the other".
Irish wit, isn't it?
Nelson Mandela, Aung San Suu Kyi, Desmond Tutu, Andrei Sakharov, Martin Luther King, Albert Schweitzer, Mother Teresa, Al Gore.
It is hard not to start feeling god-like when you make it to the list above. Love him or hate him, as Times Online remarks, you have to give credit to Mr Al Gore, the man who introduces himself "I used to be the next president of the United States". Although, as "Guardian" notes, 2007 is his annus miraculous with Oscar for his film "An Inconvenient Truth", Emmy for his Current TV channel and now the most prestigious prize on Earth in his pocket, everybody remembers his over the top moments, as for instance, when he told to CNN that "during service in the United States Congress [he] took the initiative in creating the Internet."
As today is Blog Action Day with about 15 000 blogs pondering about the environment and over 12 mln readers consuming that information, Al Gore's subject seems to be rather relevant.
It takes a while of googling in order to find out speculations about how much he charges for giving a speech (with somebody in the Letters to the editor section in the "Toronto Star" mentioning 125,000) or the origin of his wealth. There isn't much about the latter in Wikipedia, is there?
Al Gore became a senior adviser to Google back in February 2001, and is a close friend of CEO Dr. Eric Schmidt. Google shares went public in 2004, and the stock has soared from $85 a share to more than $400. Co-founders Sergey Brin and Larry Page are worth an estimated $11 billion each.
Al Gore "owns a ton of Google and he's made enough money that he could wait until a month before and just drop $50 million in to launch a [2008 Presidential] race," a well-placed Democrat told Deborah Orin of the New York Post.
And then there are the likes of Leonardo DiCaprio, who like a bunch of other famous artists and musicians during "Live Earth" kept mentioning Al Gore's name over and over again. In fact so often, that I had to fast forward the clips quite a few times.
Al Gore's supporters keep stressing that he started speaking about global warming and it's reasons long long before anybody else did. As if he wasn't doing this just in order to publicize himself.
In "Vanity Fair" green issue this May one of the most important voices among skeptics of global-warming Myron Ebell, the think tank the Competitive Enterprise Institute (C.E.I.), mentioned that amount of money floating in anti global-warming campaigns is enormous.
"The major environmental groups in [the USA] have budgets of collectively over $1 billion a year," he said. "[C.E.I.] budget is $3.7 million a year, of which only about a quarter goes to global warming. Add up the other [global-warming denier] groups and maybe you can get to $10 million."
Somehow, despite these monstrous figures, I tend to doubt that Al Gore is after money. When you own Google's shares you hardly need them. In that case he's either driven by share vanity (**** you Mr. George W. Bush, I'm not the president of the USA, but the whole world is listening to me, falling for my statements and drowning me in the sea of awards) or good will.
Of course, there are ongoing speculations of him running for the post of the President of the USA. In that case this whole apparatus - the movie, the TV channel (which I thing is groundbreaking), "Live Earth" and speeches could possibly be the best PR campaign ever. Yet even if it is, it's not that hard to listen to his words and start changing the world around yourself. By turning of your PC, the lights, recycling, ditching your car for a bike (at least once a week), buying organic produce, putting waste in the bins provided, etc. As one gargantuan supermarket chain claims, every little helps. It does. Indeed. Even if you dislike populists.
Everybody admits Irish weather is unpredictable. Number 2 on the list of unpredictable Irish issues would be Dublin busses. I haven't encountered another country yet where the timetable would state the time when the bus leaves the first stop rather than the estimated arrival to the bus stop where you are waiting. Even if you calculate the approximate time of the journey, your calculations will not necessarily take you home, to work or to your date. You could be stuck killing time on the pathway once again.
I've been always curious why can't Dublin Bus calculate those minutes for me. The heaviness of the traffic at certain times, the distances, the time spent collecting the passengers, etc. Obviously there are certain unpredictable situations. For instance, a year ago, while I was rushing to work (late as usual), the bus driver decided to pull into the garage in order to change ad posters on the bus. Perhaps next time he will decide to go for a cuppa or maybe even a pint. It's only a few minutes anyway, isn't it?
Most of the time Dublin busses s u c k. Yet somehow this week was different. As I was sprinting to the bus stop waving with one hand to the driver asking him to stop and clasping my bag with another the bus:
a. stopped (if you are not on the bus stop mostly they don't)
b. the driver was kind enough to let me know that behind him was the bus that takes me to work much quicker (apparently the driver had recognized me!)
And then in the evening as I was dashing to the bus stop trying to pull ahead of the bus, the driver stopped about 20 feet away before the stop and opened the door. Doesn't happen often...
PS
For those who don't know - in Ireland, unless you stop the bus, it will carry on with the journey. My dad learned the lesson upon his arrival to Ireland a few years ago. He kept wondering why over the last hour, despite being quite empty, none of the busses stopped...
