Phil went back to class early and I slept in. When I was up, I found two of the maids working downstairs and asked them about using the washing machine. The one I saw and talked to first didn't understand English, but the other one stepped in and explained how to use the machines. The dryer was pretty simple and like the ones at home, but the controls on the washer were very different. I was almost finished with the laundry by the time Phil got home for lunch. We walked down to the Serendipity Café. For dinner, we ate at a little hamburger and pizza place on the corner nearest to the apartment and the eastern gate of the university. We saw Angie from England and Davina from New Zealand there, and they joined us. Then we walked together back to campus to find the location for the evening's entertainment. Lorna had posted one of her volunteers on campus to direct people to the right room. The group Uilleann Ceol played traditional Irish music. One of the workshop attendees is a young woman named Erica. She brought her flute and joined the group on a few pieces.
Right before the evening started, Lorna ran into some girls visiting campus from Spain and invited them and their group to come listen to the music. About thirty teenagers and a few adult sponsors from Catalonia showed up soon after the music started. The kids were eager to participate in the dancing and helped to make the party livelier. They stayed for only a few songs, but it was fun seeing them have fun. Near the end of the evening, the musicians asked for anyone else who wanted to perform to come up. Angie was the first, and we got to hear her beautiful voice sing a traditional Irish song which was partly in Gaelic. Just lovely. Another attendee sang a silly song that was fun, too.
The penultimate song was a version of Danny Boy. Lorna explained what the song was about with a completely different story than we heard last time we were in Ireland. She said it was a love story between a girl and a wrongly imprisoned man. What we heard before, and which makes more sense to me listening to the words, was that it is a father singing to his son who is going off
Former TravelPod Member: alreadypacked
Joined: February 8th, 2009From: lives in Albuquerque,United States
"The traveler sees what he sees, the tourist sees what he has come to see." ~ Gilbert K. Chesterton
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