You Should Be Dancin'

Before I begin, a disclaimer: The people of Ireland were extremely hospitable and charming, and on the whole I thank them for the fantastic experience! Never have I met a more generous group of people, it was almost like being at home. Almost.

Regrettably, though, the countryside of Northern Ireland is a little like the mid- to late 80s. The technology, the entertainment, the sheep...and God, were there ever sheep.

At the reception, most of the music was from the BeeGees' and Abba's greatest hits catalogues. Now you'd expect the older folks to be eating this up, and the younger kids to begrudgingly dance to it, but these 14- and 15-year-olds, boys and girls alike, knew all the words and had choreographed dances to every song. Our contemporary pop requests were promptly ditched in favor of traditional Irish folk songs, one of which had a chorus that went something like, "When your mother's gone and in the ground". Charming.

Now I'm familiar with the Irish people's propensity toward potatoes, but I didn't realize they'd be served with every meal. For God's sake, my chicken curry came with "chips" (french fries). The morning I arrived in Newry, the groom's mother prepared us a traditional Irish "fry" - a word that would soon become the theme of the week. This breakfast consists of 3 types of sausage, a slab of thick-cut bacon, sweet bread, a fried egg, and a baked tomato. Screw Atkins, I think the Irish deserve some credit for pioneering in weight loss.

The wedding reception consisted of two - yes, TWO - dinners, and while the first was remarkable (soup, pot roast, two types of potatoes, veggies, and 4 desserts) the second spread was truly a sight to behold: fried chicken, chips, sausage links, and sausage wrapped in bread dough and then, of course, fried. I ended the evening as sober as I began it, with all that bread in my system. And not for not trying, either!

The men in Ireland were particularly "hospitable" to us younger women, paying for all of our drinks and offering us their seats. Of course, they were still in them. And it seems that at one point in the evening the bride's mother may have even been solicited for sex...by the groom's (married) uncle. I myself scored the younger men, an extremely intoxicated 14-year-old who grabbed my hand and whirled me around the dance floor two or three times before leaning in close and asking for a kiss. I sent him back to his table, dejected, and busied myself with trying to remember the words to "Dancing Queen".

As I said though, all the entertaining stories just happened to be about the quirky things. Northern Ireland was a beautiful place full of kind people and I'd certainly go back again. Maybe I'll give it 20 years or so, though, so I can at least get them to play some Madonna.