Sometimes I Spend Weekends in Cork

It has been a very long time since I’ve spent a weekend in Cork, and I have never spent a weekend here where I have felt completely comfortable, unassailed by the feelings of loneliness and displacement that dog anyone who has to live in a new place. But this weekend was enough to make me feel that I have made my way far enough to be relaxed and at peace with my place in this city where I feared I would never belong.

Friday, after classes, a groups of us caught a viewing of Watchmen, the newest in a long line of superhero/comic book films, and the best I have seen. True to the original book down to the character’s facial features and the frames of the scenes. Although it is a very explicit film, I think it was necessary to convey the true sense of the narrative, the way it felt while reading it. I agree that many times in a story it is up to the individual imagination to interpret the amount of explicit content they perceive, and in many respects this was only the perception of the director, but on the whole I think it was very well done.

You should read it though. More than anything, read it. What a wonderful Friday night to talk with one of the Minnesota girls about it- one who loves Alan Moore and comic books as much as I do- and not have to keep all my thoughts in a bottle! It was a good start to the weekend.

Saturday was spent trying to get some work done, finally buying Kipling’s Kim for my Victorian Literature lecture, and welcoming a new roommate. One of the girl’s from Minnesota has a friend from home visiting us for spring break, so to welcome her we had a party and headed out to the Saturday night pub crawl. I have never been out in Cork on a Saturday, which I suddenly realized as I made my way to the Bailey, a three-floor construct that should be a club considering the music and the general patrons, but which somehow is still only a pub. With everyone trying to chat over the pouring of dance music and drink orders it’s a little like chaos and we felt dancing should ensue, so for about an hour we conversed in a corner while also trying to incite a general “dance revolution” if you will.

Eventually admitting defeat we went to the Brog, my favorite place to dance and chat, and from there headed home at the ripe hour of 2.00 am. I’ve been out with the group before, but I felt less like a lone Marylander than ever. They constantly insist that us WACers are simply one of the group, and now I know that. I know I can count on them and they can count on me; be it on a regular night out or an emergency, as we experienced last week when one of our number had to fly home due to a death in the family. She returns to us tomorrow, when we’re preparing her a family-style welcome back dinner in hopes that she’ll see here she has family too. We’re all in the same boat and we know that we probably won’t see each other again after this, but while it lasts we owe to each other to be the support none of us has.

Today I woke up in hope of getting some serious reading done in the rainy morning when I was invited to coffee by two Spanish girls I met a few weeks ago (and consequently the same that took me salsa dancing.) We met up at the library along with a few fellows from the English Lit Society and went into town, stopping at a shop where they played Skin and Bones in the background, and there we talked until they closed at the ridiculous hour of 5.00. From there we stopped at another restaurant and ordered another drink in order to earn our use of the space. More than anything being with this eclectic group of Irish and Spanish make me certain that I have found a place in this city. I love my flatmates, but with these people I see a side of Cork you can only get from a long-term resident.

As it turned towards twilight the seven of us waltzed down to the Lough- a beautiful lake on the south side of the river that I never even knew existed. Surrounded by grass and trees a walkway also encircles the lough and on the water float swans and a myriad of small, black, duck-like birds with white faces. Here we fed them leftover chips and laughed and noted the way airplanes come in so low over the city. Having never been here before I only hope I can find it again. It’s one of the few places in Cork where I’ve seen benches- or any park-like sitting area- and large swatches of grass. It’s not a large lough by any means, but it is enough to provide an oasis for the girl who misses grass and trees and natural things.

Getting dark by then we dispersed to get some work done. With the end of the term fast approaching we all seem to have things to do (the regular UCC students more so than any of us Americans) and I hope once classes are out we’ll continue to get together for coffee and roam Cork and meet between studying and head out to the pubs. They’re a group I can’t help but like, and a group the likes of which I’ve never been a part of before. New experiences all around and a wonderful Corkian weekend. Now to work.