An Irish wedding party

I broke out of my American nutshell Thursday with the beautiful Guinness and a wedding party south of Dublin. Though I was off to a very rocky start, things turned out to be literally better than I ever could have imagined.\nThis rocky start I speak of occurred in France. I was never a huge fan of the French before, but now, with their huge lack of time organization and take-your-time attitude, they helped me miss my flight. While one man was helpful by telling me my plane had already taken off, he assured me that I would get a seat on the following flight. This would mean I'd miss the ride with my program instructors and taxi to my apartment by myself. So I finally landed in Ireland, I met a man named Denny who taxied me to my apartment for about 30 euro. I stepped into my front door and literally dropped my jaw when I saw how gorgeous the place was. I never imagined I'd be living somewhere this cool when I was this young. It's a very modern, European, four-bedroom flat with all of the amenities.\nAfter we settled in, our program directors took us on a tour of Glendaloch, where Saint Kevin is presumed to be buried in one of the first Irish monasteries in Ireland. Besides its religious connections, the beauty of this land was breath-taking. Though the original wooden churches were destroyed by Vikings five times, the stone churches are still somewhat intact. Lovely landscape engulfed the area and reminded me why I wanted to see Ireland in the first place.\nBut there as another reason I wanted to see the Irish. We had hotel reservations at the Glenview hotel, a swanky hotel in the middle of two valleys, which also had a bar. After dinner, a few people from my group decided to top the night off with a Guinness or two. As midnight approached, more and more people were excusing themselves and going to bed. (But not the Indiana crew.) Don't be worried kids -- we held the place down. When we found out that the bar didn't close until 3 a.m, the night had an interesting twist in store.\nWe walked into the bar and found one of the best things I've encountered so far in Ireland: a wedding party. These people were more than willing to have a wonderful time. We chatted, drank and laughed with these people until they drank us under the table. While my buddy, Dougie, was getting his ear talked-off, he made the mistake of bringing up politics. The Irish don't favor Bush or Kerry and think that Clinton was the best thing to happen to the U.S. since sliced bread. Even though I don't normally talk politics, I learned quickly to never bring up the subject.\nFriday was ugly due to the late night before. It came and went with more orientation activities. That night we got all beautiful and went down to the Temple Bar area. Imagine Kirkwood on crack. There are so many bars, and each one is huge and has such a unique personality. I ended up becoming friends with a lad by the name of Eoghan, pronounced Owen. As a native Dubliner, I somehow talked him into being my personal tour guide for Saturday. Seeing Dublin from a local's perspective in the first weekend was probably the best way I could become acclimated with this city. I am lucky enough to already have some sense of where I am going and which direction I am pointed. So the moral of the story is this: Don't talk politics with Irishmen unless they promise to walk you around the city and help you carry your groceries home.