My mum and dad are flying over next week to meet me & we’ll be traveling together – they have been very active since retirement, in fact I have a hard time keeping up with them. We have a very loose itinerary, which means we are winging it – woo hoo, freedom, discovery and excitement. Speaking of excitement, I have yet to buy my return ticket home to America. Wonder what that means….  After travelling in the UK and Ireland, I fly to Germany to visit some friends and who knows what after that – For now, I’m just focusing on enjoying some time off… 

   Belfast’s history is loaded with many tragedies and atrocities, some of which are illustrated or celebrated in the murals painted on the sides of houses, dotted all over the city.

    These first two murals are from the Catholic side of the     Peace Wall – on the infamous Falls Road. This is a mural of Bobby Sands – Republican prisoner who led the hunger strikes and negotiations in Long Kesh prison to protest for the right to not wear prison-issue clothing or do prison work, and instead be given status as political prisoners. While inside, he was nominated and won election as MP (Member of Parliament). He died in the H-Block cells after having completed 65 days on hunger strike.

     This guy was an Provisional IRA prisoner who led the first ‘Blanket protest’ in the H-Blocks at Long Kesh prison. Upon entering the Maze Prison, refused to wear a prison uniform. He was not provided with alternative clothing and wrapped himself in the blanket from his cell beginning the “Blanket Protest”. This started 5 years of prison protests in pursuit of political status, which ended in the 1981 Hunger Strike and the death of 10 prisoners.

    The next two murals are from the Shankill Road, on the Protestant/ Unionist side of the Peace Wall. This first one depicts The Red Hand of Ulster. The myth relates a story of two men contending to be King of Ulster. The High King of Ireland suggested a ship race (but perhaps a horse race). As they both neared the finishing line, Dermott was in the lead, so O’Neill cut off his hand and threw it to the shore thereby physically reaching the goal ahead of his opponent and winning the crown. It is a Unionist symbol, but also seen as one of the most cross-traditional symbols in a land where symbolism, expression, and tradition still cause serious conflict.

   This wall celebrates the UDF, UFF, and UDA – (Ulster Defense Force, Defense Association, and the Ulster Freedom Fighters in the middle — the last two, loyalist paramilitary organizations). This is one of the most threatening murals on the Shankill, and definitely more threatening than those on the Republican side. Our black taxi guide (who was a Catholic trying to be impartial as a tour guide) didn’t have much to say on this side of the Peace Wall. But, he did want to point out to us that no matter where you are standing, the UFF paramilitary gun is always pointing right at you. 

     This is a photo of me and Tej after enjoying an afternoon pint before I left to go back to Strabane. The next two are from our first day wandering around the city streets. It was happy days to be able to go away and not take my computer!

Tej and I went to some old pubs and a fundraiser concert and one of the parks and gardens. We also went on a “Black Taxi tour” – - which used to be called the “Bombs and Bullets tour” because they drive you around the Loyalist and Nationalist areas that were the sites of burnings and bombings and raids and curfews and protests and arrests and all the other things that go along with heavy civil conflict. It seems in a way a bit exploitative, and made me feel a bit voyeuristic, and also sad that the Troubles are Northern Ireland’s “claim to fame.” People who live here have such mixed ways of referring to those days. Anyway, on the black taxi tour, those areas that we drove through and walked around are really still quite downtrodden, and there’s now a “Peace Wall,” 28 feet high, built that divides the Loyalist (Protestant) and Nationalist (Catholic) neighborhoods. Although there are no guards standing at the wall anymore, the gates close in the evening at 6pm. The houses abutting the wall all have steel-grated cages covering their back patios to prevent petrol bombs or other ammunition from reaching their homes. When our guide pointed this out, he said that the cages were taken down last November, and he took it as a positive sign. But in a couple weeks time new cages were installed — the old ones were rusted and just needed to be replaced. Peace takes a long time to achieve.

What people are struggling to do now is talk about it and break the spell by talking about things that used to be forbidden or dangerous to talk about. But keeping your mouth shut and going along with whatever seems safe (whether that is physical or psychological or emotional safety) has been the normal thing for so long, there is a long road ahead.

Meanwhile, in places like Belfast, which I think is the fastest growing city in the UK, life and society is speeding on ahead and development is happening and now for the first time ever, Belfast is becoming a multi-cultural city. But the Falls and Shankill areas where much of the heavy combat took place are still stressed and feared and depressed looking. There is still a high rate of unemployment and are people living here with generations of family members living solely off benefits. But meanwhile, people move to Belfast or other parts of Northern Ireland from other countries, like Poland or Lithuania, finding jobs, having babies, creating new lives…  and so you can see things changing so fast, but the natives who grew up and raised children here during the conflict are not changing fast. Feelings like the people here weren’t prepared to change, but it’s happening regardless.

It’s amazing to witness. It’s confounding to witness. And then I’ve been working with these people (my two key supervisors) who are devoting every breath they have to pushing against the grain and helping change move along as best they can. And I see the real heavy obstacles they are facing. Like I said, an amazing thing to witness. It’s not seriously different than a neighborhood in the US that is in crisis or going through changes (except there are gangs in the US and paramilitaries here) –

a lot of similarities can be seen. But, the difference is, seeing this as an outsider gives me a little more perspective. I have a broader view because I’m not as close to it.

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This is the time of year when the babies are born, but I was very fortunate to see a birth this morning, right in front of my window.

The farmer chased the mommy ewe down the hill until she was cornered. I didn’t know at the time why he was chasing her, I thought he was trying to herd her into another pen. Instead, he held her still and then put his arm into her body and pulled out a limp lamb — Kind of like pulling a rabbit out of a hat..

There was no blood. The lamb was brown. The lamb did not move. The farmer swung the lamb to and fro in the air, by it’s legs. It did not move. The farmer layed it on the grass. Then he jostled the lamb’s head, bouncing it up and down on his hand, as if he were trying to wake it up. I thought, at that point, that it had been a still birth.  (I later learned that they are swung like that to remove the tracheal fluid and force oxygen into the lungs. This one seems also to have been a breech birth, accounting for the fact the ewe was not able to birth it herself).

But then the lamb’s head moved a little. The farmer left and the mother took over. I watched her as she cleaned and preened it for more than an hour. It began to move very slowly, but it finally moved its head. Then 40 minutes later it moved its legs. After about an hour, it stood up. Then it fell over. Stood up, fell over. Stood up, fell over. Stood up, stayed up, and started to search for its first meal…

And that was how its life began. It really was absolutely fascinating….

He comes across with a perspective that’s mixed with matter-of-factness, awe, and curiosity, like “Wow, this happened, did you know? It’s incredible.” When Jeff talks you know he has a big personal stake. There’s no hiding it. Jeff is from Strabane, Northern Ireland. Jim is from County Donegal, in the Republic. Jim has a personal stake too, but it’s different –Although he grew up close enough to the border, and was harassed when trying to cross the border, and the Troubles left a mark on his upbringing, there is a great difference.

Most people claim that Strabane was the most bombed town during the Troubles. It’s not disputed that it had one of the most, if not the most, disproportionate share of bombings per capita. Just like the suicide rate – there have been 5 since Christmas, but if you look at this rate proportional to the population – for example, in a city with a population of a million people, the suicide rate would be 333. That would be considered an epidemic. Last night my housemate told me about a popular television program on BBC 4 that films couples property shopping in the UK going around with the hosts as experts/ guides. They did several programs on the 10 worst places to live, and Strabane was named 3^rd worst on that list just 2 years ago. The town invited the show’s producers to Strabane, but they never accepted the invitation. Since then, it worked its way off of the top 10 list.

I asked Jim more questions about the CPR Project so I could get a better understanding of how all the pieces I’ve heard about fit together. We talked a lot about the impact of the Troubles, in terms of the groups they are working with and a couple severe cases that came through, like one man who spent almost 18 years barely leaving his house, who is just now going through a training program to be trained as a lorrie driver. Aside from the high suicide rate here, there’s also the common depression and anxiety, alcoholism and drug addiction, domestic violence and child neglect, personal detachment and avoidance, with more than its share of severe cases like this young man.

 Most of these people will say they don’t personally know anyone who was a victim. But, everyone who lived here during the violence are victims.  A lot of people think that only those who die are victims; that only those who are brutally attacked are victims; that those who are specifically targeted are victims. Unfortunately, there is a stigma attached to being called or thought of as a victim. It’s disempowering instead of being something that offers permission to grieve and a reason to heal; instead of offering an answer as to the origin of their problems to, thus removing the locus of guilt from inside. And being called a survivor implies individual courage and having gone through a great ordeal, but people who lived here had to normalize what they were living through. Maybe we need a new word that doesn’t have such a harsh or imposing allusion. Besides being a victim/ survivor of the troubles, trauma has been compounded by secondary trauma or compounded trauma from – alcoholism, drug abuse, domestic violence, child and elder abuse, detached or irritable or angry parents neglecting children, and then there are families who have been living on benefits for generations and children who don’t have good role models or aspiration to live any differently. According to Marina, Strabane has one of the highest rates of incest, physical, mental, and sexual abuse.

 Strabane has a history of economic deprivation. Northern Ireland is in a process of devolution – although it will take a few more years, they are supposed to decrease the district councils from 26 to 12. Strabane will be one of the downsized districts and will fall in with the district of Derry or Omagh. Jim talked about seeing negative changes and fragmentation in local culture after multi-national companies moved to small towns. Many people are concerned with the breakdown of the traditional family system and the birth of a dissociated generation, which is a much newer phenomena here than in the states. Marina and Jeff both point to the loss of values in a rising consumerist / materialistic culture.

This isn’t the first time I’m recognizing these things, but it’s the first time I’ve really felt upset about it. This week I feel like I’m suddenly being bombarded with how dismal Strabane is. Right now I just feel such sorrow and heartbreak for this place and the people here. I feel quite overwhelmed by it right now as I write. I was just up in Ballycastle yesterday. It is a beautiful town on the north coast– Tourist-ready with beautiful streets; with colorfully painted signs and shutters; the seashore with gorgeous view, more sunlight, more sky, more glens or “mountains.” There were three school girls at the bus stop when Mary Anne dropped me off. They immediately started “chatting me up” and asked me what part of America I was from. No one in Strabane will do that even if given a ripe opportunity (besides the people I’m working with directly as part of Koram business). Everyone is friendly and wonderful and open, but not anywhere near to assertive like these school girls. They may be curious, but they don’t behave like they are; they don’t express themselves. They react to, instead of act upon. I knew the landscape would be more beautiful, but I had no idea that it would feel so different being in the north. 

Patricia takes confidentiality very seriously, and later when I talked to her in private, I figured out that it’s because practically everyone gossips, even her own staff and volunteers, and she has to go overboard on the issue of confidentiality to keep things contained. Even if no names or details are mentioned, something with seeming insignificance might stimulate gossip and speculation, and Patricia tries to nip all that before it buds. Patricia has done a magnificent job in developing the Women’s Centre. They run anywhere up to 25 programs simultaneously, in the town, as well as in some rural areas. This is great because there are lots of people who are pretty isolated, not everyone owns a car, although it’s pretty hard to get around without one. 

Patricia creates a warm and inviting feeling in the Centre. “It’s like being in your granny’s kitchen,” is what she always says about the atmosphere she creates. And, like in any other agency or home, there are plenty of tea bags, buns, and biscuits. Buns are basically sweet pastries – people here love their sweets! You can not have a cup of tea without something to eat along with it. Bernadette, the counselling coordinator at the Koram Centre, is trying to fatten me up, and I have a weakness for sweets, so there’s a chance that might happen.

No one knows what the motive is, but I’m finding out that this type of violence happens here still, too often. “Knee-capping,” which is where the person is permanently crippled via two shots from behind the kneecaps, is also a common terrorist action. I really don’t know what I feel about this news today. It made me think about all the gang and drug violence in the states, and I don’t see this as much different. The former is terrorism too, if you put it in the context of crime syndicate politics. The killing here was planned. The boy was implicated before he was abducted.