International Corner

Dublin, My Second Home

Whenever I go home, I take my accents and vocabulary with me. These are more important than the clothes in my suitcase. I usually have three accents packed away neatly, to be taken out, ironed and worn for different occasions. My first port of call is always Dublin, where I will use two of these travel items – my normal accent and my Dublin accent. Ireland is a small country populated with distinct accents which will confuse, amuse and delight the visitor. A veritable melting pot of accents! And in Dublin, its fine capital, you can experience the comprehension, fear, anxiety, pleasures, and frustrations of dealing with the people who live there.

A trip home (my Dublin accent)
Arrivin in de airport off de plane, I jump on de bus, tell de driver I’m off to de city center, he nods, I drop in de exact change, and get me seat. Sittin on de bus I see de city as it moves past de window, de new port tunnel, a disaster, de houses, identically lined, into de city, down to de quays, where’ll I’ll get off and get de jo maxi to me mates place.
I jump in de taxi. “Howaya, how’s it goin?” I say to de driver. He says, “Grand, and where to?” “Ah, Allingham Street please, just off Marrowbone Lane,” in de 80’s a death trap to dose hooked on H, now surrounded by new apartment blocks and de Guinness hub. De locals are de same though, strong, proud, nice, caring, a great community, de salt of de earth, but hard to crack if you’re not from around here. De taxi driver asks where I’m comin from. “Korea I say.” “Korea? Dat’s pretty far. What de hell are you doin out dere?” “Ah, teachin,” I say. “Wots it like?” “Not bad, nice job, good people, great food.” “Ah yeah, your man Ji Sun Park is from dere.” “Ur a United fan?” “God no, the pool. And yourself?” “Arsenal.”(silence) “So how’s Dublin?” I ask, “it’s been a while.” “Ah changes, sure there are no Dubs left, all immigrants. Polish and more Polish.” “Sounds good,” I say. He goes quiet. “And Bertie?” “Gone, good riddens, chancer.” “McGowan wont be much better?” “Yea, dere are all de same, a bunch of muppets.” Silence. “Grand. Listen…take a left here and it’s just around de flats , on de right. What’s the damage?” “7 Euro.” “Ok, cheers, keep de change. Have a good one.” “You, too.”

Home (My normal accent)
I’m staying at my friend’s home for a few days. We are from the same town. He is a civil servant, living with his French girlfriend, a nice match. She’s a nanny here. Hugs all round. Times are not good, she just had her left breast removed, but she smiles. Killer, my friend, asks about the flight. The usual answer: long, food was ok, but glad to be on the ground. We’ll go out for a few pints later he adds. I dump my gear in the spare room, take a shower, relax in the living room, giving out some presents, mostly soju (he loves soju), ask about the country, the government, developments in the city, family, friends and so on. It’s nice to be home.
Later I wander out for a stroll, to see the old neighbor hood, the council houses across the road, same old same old. A far cry from the caterpillar hills of Korea. I pass the corner store where I’ll get my loaf of batch, rashers, pudding and sausages for the following day’s breakfast. I always cook breakfast when I stay there. On to Thomas Street, where I went to University, Spar, Londis, Meath Street, the Clock Pub, the post office where Robert Emmet was beheaded, ah, the old town. It’s a hard street, and not one to be toyed with late at night. Surviving on the street is a must in Dublin. The city is divided between North and South by the river Liffey, the south being safer/richer, the north poorer and more dangerous (this is changing of course, new developments, the city has money now). But as in every city, you will bump into people who you would prefer not to. Street aggression in Dublin is mostly ritualistic, and can be dealt with easily. The characters are diverse, easily spotted, both female and male. They have that vacant expression in their eyes (and love/hate tattooed on their knuckles). They can be seen holding a can of Dutch Gold, sovereign rings, a tight hair cut, a shaggy perm and wearing designer sports gear, a “pav” we say, or an older term, a “scanger.” They have two walks, one head first, shoulders back and a spring in their step, there is a purpose; the other is that slow hugging the walls walk, the after the purpose has been achieved walk.

Upon meeting these characters, you might hear the following expressions and you might want to follow these responses or adopt the following accent.

The Street (My inner city Dublin accent)

Character: “Here, you, come here for a second, I wancha.” Your Response: Run

Character: “You lookin’ at me?” Your Response: Run

Character: “What’s de story bud?” Your Response: Run

Character: “You callin’ me a liar?” Your Response: Run

Character: “I’m only messin’ withcha…Sure, I wouldn’t harm a fly.” Your Response: Run

Character: “Do you want any yokes?” Your Response: “Nah, I’m grand...cheers.”

Character: “Do you want your go? Do you want your bleedin’ go?” Your Response: Run like the clappers.

( My normal accent ) As for myself, I usually pretend to be more insane than they are. This gets me out of a lot of things. I love putting on that twitch about 20 meters before I meet them on the street, or talking to myself using as much profanity as I can. The crazy leave the crazy alone…that’s part of the ritual. Of course, Dublin has great people and even greater places to see. When I am home, I like to go through a couple of my own rituals. One a quiet pint of Guinness in Neary’s Bar in the afternoon, just me and the barman. A stroll across Halfpenny Bridge, down Moore Street, back up O’Connell Street, over to the Customs House, on to the Southside, up Grafton Street to the Green, then on to the National Art Gallery, swing into a few modern art galleries, meet a few friends, get a fish and chips from Burdock’s, remember to go to Sam and Iskanders off College Green outside Trinity college for the best burgers and kebabs in town (these of course are my post drinking places), up George’s Street, check out the Arcade, then up to Saint Pat’s Cathedral, and then home to the apartment.

At night, we head out into town, meet a few friends. I like pubs, not bars. It is getting harder to find good pubs in Dublin. Most places have turned into “super bars,” like Café en Seine, the young coked off their heads, drinking expensive drinks, looking great and feeling fine. When I’m home, we avoid these places. Sure, up-market bars are nice, but I don’t want to see the stock exchange figures while I’m downing my pint. I like an old TV in the corner and an older clientele, drooling over their afternoon pint or short. Character. Much better than a row of shots and pounding music (although I will still go to the latter if you twist my rubber arm). Pub culture in Dublin is just fantastic. We binge drink until we can’t stand, but the craic is great. There is nothing better than getting smashed with your mates, especially if you only see them once a year. Here are a few of my drinking holes: the Dame Tavern, the Stag’s Head, the Foggy Dew, the Hairy Lemon, the Lord Edward, O’Neill’s, O’Donohue’s, all Southside.
After the pubs, we hit the clubs, Whelan’s, Ri Ra’s, very old haunts, Toast, a new 30s bar come club, oh the old sounds of the early 90s. I feel old, out of place, but still ok.

Then the kebab; the taxi wait. Things don’t change much and getting a taxi at 2 a.m. in Dublin is impossible. The walk is long, but filled with chat and utterances.

Bed is heaven and the thought of tomorrow’s hangover is far from my mind.

Tomorrow will bring another accent, my country accent; I will go home to my family.

On the whole, Dublin is a vibrant, colorful, creative city with an amazing history, filled with romance, passion, desperation, war, poverty, poetry, and Guinness. It is a great city to live in – if you have the money.

If you want to hear this little article, please go to http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7966908948770967738&hl=en where you can see and hear me.

By Seanan Clifford
Prof., Dept. of European Studies

Any foreign exchange students and foreign professors can submit a contribution to the Gazette. Through the “International Corner,” you can write a story about your country. The Gazette hopes you can introduce yourselves to many Keimyung people and thereby enjoy your time in Keimyung.