Mar

Ireland for the Virtual Traveler

by Joyce McGreevy on March 30, 2020

Two Irish terriers by the sea and virtual visitors from across the miles help a writer in Ireland stay connected during a time of necessary social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Dog days at the edge of Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Staying Connected Across the Miles

It’s springtime, the sun has come out of hiding, and I want you to come visit. Oh, I know—these days, you can only be a virtual visitor. But now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

Take a moment to imagine: Put on your favorite old sweater, the one with a hole in the elbow. Lace up your mud-spattered walking shoes. Pack only your five senses.

Oh, for good measure, toss in your sense of delight. Because we’re off to explore one of Ireland’s most beautiful places. Along the way, I’ve a story to tell you.

To reach Ballyshane, drive south, passing smaller and smaller towns, until you come to a certain crossroads. Yes, that one. Now, thread along ever-narrowing roads, knowing the coast of East County Cork awaits you.

A pond in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland is accessible to all virtual travelers as technology helps people stay connected across the miles during a time of necessary social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

A place for reflection at Ballyshane.
© Joyce McGreevy

Have the hedgerows begun thrumming with birds? Then you’re nearly there. Watch for breaks in the wild shrubbery that glimmer with hints of the sea. At last, you see old stone gates, the color of ripening apricots.

Down the long drive you go. You’re here.

You’re actually only 30 minutes from a city. But Ballyshane is a world all its own.

Which reminds me, I promised you a story.

I was already in isolation when it happened. Not that anyone called it “self-isolating” Back Then. I’d simply returned to Ireland, a place that’s long felt like home, to house-sit for a man who was traveling.

Given the remote location, it meant “social distancing.” Not that anyone called it that Back Then.

Walks with an Irish terrier in the woods and the company of virtual visitors from across the miles help a traveler self-isolating in Ireland stay connected during a time of necessary social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

A walk feels liberating now.
© Joyce McGreevy

But who could be lonely? I had the companionship of two Irish terriers, and the land, with its 1800s country house, was companionable in its beauty. Beyond the main house were secluded cottages, among the most popular on Airbnb. Yet I’d been generously granted one all to myself.

A cottage in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland welcomes virtual visitors as people stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing, self-isolation, and virtual travel. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Stone cottage, soft sky.
© Joyce McGreevy

In between the homeowner’s travels, there were elegant yet informal gatherings. Touched to be invited, I met new friends. Because this is Ireland, some of the new friends knew some of my old friends. Even if they hadn’t, I’d never have felt lonely. Because in Ireland, conversation is something one savors along with its now-celebrated cuisine.

Rain clouds over Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland, foreshadow a time when social distancing and self-isolation will become the norm, and virtual travelers will go online to stay connected across the miles. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Storm clouds gather over Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Then it happened.

The “wave” made its way across Europe, and life in Ireland changed utterly. When even the churches closed down, the gravity of the situation sank in.

Suddenly, people around the world were hurrying home or sheltering in place. Word went out: Wherever you happen to be, stay there. Stay safe, don’t travel.

That year, I’d been all over the map. Three months in Italy. Rambles around world cities. Long days in airports, nights in airport hotels. When Earth’s globe suddenly stopped spinning, the roulette wheel of my continuous travels could have landed me anywhere.

To my gratitude, I woke up in Ballyshane.

Come, I’ll show you around.

A garden in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland welcomes all virtual visitors, as loved ones become virtual travelers to stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Gardening feels hopeful now.
© Joyce McGreevy

Here are the gardens: raised beds of rosemary, rhubarb, cardoon, and other organic edibles. The courtyard garden filled with terracotta pots of flowering bulbs. The formal outdoor corridors of box hedge and stone sculpture. The tapestries of tender grasses, daffodils, and bluebells spread under the groves of wind-sculpted trees.

Here come Molly and Rosie, the Irish terriers.

Two Irish terriers in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland help a writer stay grounded during a time of self-isolation, just as virtual visits help friends and family stay connected across the miles despite social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

“Good morning, good morning, sweet girls!”
© Joyce McGreevy

They’ve come to take us for a walk. We’ll rove across land that fans out along the coast, then clamber down tufted hillsides where the butter-bright gorse frames the silvery canvas of the sea.

Nature’s varied flora help people self-isolating in Ireland stay grounded, and offer virtual travelers a way to stay connected across the miles, during a time of worldwide social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Nature’s quilt at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

We can trot along to the rocky seashore, the girls’ paws picking up the pace the closer we get to the briny scent. Or move stealthily across a field of tall grass, our least step alerting the little birds who forage there. We can watch as they rise in sudden, fluttery clouds.

Speaking of birds, come see the chickens.

Chickens to be fed, fresh eggs to wash, and sharing one’s daily routine with virtual visitors from across the miles helps a traveler self-isolating in Ireland stay grounded during a time of worldwide social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy).

“Hello, ladies. Any eggs this morning?”
© Joyce McGreevy

Ah, there’s my favorite. If you’re feeling down, her bandy-legged gait will make you grin—she seems to wear feathery bloomers and pedal a penny-farthing bicycle.

All day long, there’s satisfying work to do. At evening, it’s quiet. Time to settle in by the fireplace, to log on, contact friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues around the world.

Daffodils at sunset in Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland, suggest how images shared online are helping virtual visitors stay connected across the miles through virtual travel despite worldwide self-isolation and social distancing. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

No filter needed: Sunsets at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

We’re globally, socially distant but imaginatively gathering close together. We talk, laugh, listen, share worries and encouragement. Each virtual visit is an “Oh, I see” moment: In a time of separation and uncertainty, words weave us back together.

It’s late. One more look at the stars, then we’ll say goodnight. But please visit me here in Ireland any time. We are all virtual travelers now, and I’ll visit you, too—in California and Italy; Boston and Istanbul; Seattle and Seoul; New Orleans; New Zealand; wherever you are.

Starlight above an Irish cottage with a satellite dish evokes the way nature and technology support virtual travel, allowing virtual visitors to stay connected across the miles during a time of social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Starlight & satellite: Nature and technology keep us connected.
© Joyce McGreevy

Between us, we’ll piece together the patchwork of our perforated days. Between us, we’ll remake the quilt of our shared human experience, the stories that make us whole. Because now, more than ever, we need to stay connected across the miles.

A coastal view from Ballyshane, County Cork, Ireland offers perspective to virtual visitors as people rely on virtual travel to stay connected across the miles during a time of global social distancing and self-isolation. (Image © by Joyce McGreevy)

Taking the long view at Ballyshane, Ireland.
© Joyce McGreevy

Take a virtual tour of the cottages at Ballyshane here and here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy 14 Comments

Art of Travel/Ireland/Nature Discovery

Mar

Make Any Meal a Travel Adventure

by Joyce McGreevy on March 16, 2020

A food market in Denmark features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

You can order French bread in Denmark (but not a “Danish”).
In France, just order bread—in French.
© Joyce McGreevy

Food Origin Fun with a Dash of Cultural Awareness

So you’ve just canceled that upcoming trip, but you’re still feeling the wanderlust? Don’t be consumed by disappointment—there’s a travel adventure in the food you consume.

Lunch time scenario 1: Lee and his friend Ana meet for lunch. Lee orders a French dip, French fries and a salad with French dressing.

Intrigued, Ana asks Lee, “What did you have for breakfast?”

“French toast,” says Lee. “Why?”

“Wow,” says Ana with crystal-clear cultural awareness. “You sure love American food!”

Brussels sprouts, known as spruitjes in Belgium, are one of many foods associated with specific places, even when actual food history differs. (Image by Pxhere

In Brussels, nobody eats Brussels sprouts, but many people enjoy spruitjes.
Photo by Pxhere

Lunch time scenario 2: On a culinary travel adventure one summer, I realize it’s been years since I’ve had a Reuben sandwich. Although it’s non-kosher (mixing meat and cheese), it’s a staple of many Jewish delicatessens.

As Meredith Mileti writes in Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses:

“I devour the sandwich, a mountain of corned beef between two greasy slabs of marble rye, leaking cheese and Russian dressing all down the front of my sweater. It’s delicious, and I don’t stop eating until I’ve finished the last thick fry, which I use to mop up the remains of the sandwich.”

Ah yes, the front of every sweater, blouse, and pajama top I own might just as well be emblazoned with an image of an airport runway. I order a Reuben anyway, because here I am in the city that invented it. You know, Omaha.

Wait, what?

It’s not “rye” humor—the Reuben sandwich may hail from the Cornhusker State.
© Kimberly Vardman (CC By 2.0)

A Slice of History

Reportedly, the Reuben sandwich was invented during a poker game at Omaha’s Blackstone Hotel circa the 1930s. Hotel proprietor Charles Schimmel then added it to Blackstone’s menu.

Fern Snider, a former employee of the Blackstone, used the recipe to win a national competition in 1956. That’s when the Oxford English Dictionary cites the first published use of the term “Reuben sandwich.”

Several New York-based origin stories also exist, including one from cookbook author and New York Times food journalist Craig Claiborne.

But I’d keep that to yourself if you’re in Nebraska on March 14. That’s when people in Omaha celebrate National Reuben Sandwich Day. The food fest became official there in 2013.

Oh, I see: Food histories are like mystery novels, except that you can eat the clues, red herrings and all.

In a Pickle

Granted, it doesn’t take gourmet detective Poirot to reveal that a Reuben’s Swiss cheese and Russian dressing are neither Swiss nor Russian—just a case of “Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with Kraft Foods.”

But even the Reuben’s sauerkraut, well-documented in German culture, has ties to another culture: Mongolia. One reason Genghis Khan galloped from Asia to Meissen, Germany is that his nomadic horsemen packed the perfect lunch for those 4,000-mile commutes. Fermented food: Don’t leave the yurt without it.

Mongolian horsemen features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Erdenebayar/Pixabay)

From Mongolia to Germany to a Chicago hot dog, pickled cabbage has come a long way.
Photo by Erdenebayar/Pixabay

A Mystery that Takes the Cake

In 1963, when President Lyndon Johnson hosted a luncheon for German Chancellor Ludwig Erhard, the dessert chef served German chocolate cake. One wonders what Erhard thought of this three-layer confection of buttermilk, pecans, and not-exactly Teutonic coconut. No German bakery had ever produced one.

So why “German”?

In 1852, an English American chocolate mill worker named Samuel German developed a baking chocolate sweet enough to eat as a bar. Mr. German sold his recipe to Mr. Walter Baker of Baker’s Chocolate Company in Dorchester, Massachusetts. The resulting product, still on grocery shelves today, was Baker’s German’s Chocolate.

A mere 105 years later, a recipe for German’s Chocolate Cake appeared in The Dallas Morning News. According to National Public Radio, sales of Baker’s German’s chocolate “shot up 73 percent that year, 1957.” Somewhere along the way, folks forgot the apostrophe in German’s. Yes, they fudged the spelling and “German Chocolate” took the cake.

A vintage ad for Baker’s chocolate features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Public domain image)

I like ads that emphasize the nutritional importance of eating chocolate.
Public domain photo

You Say Croissant, I Say Kipferl

So many foods associated with one place began in another that tracking them down becomes a culinary adventure.

The croissant, that iconic French bread, might never have happened without an Austrian entrepreneur. According to food historian Jim Chevallier, author of August Zang and the French Croissant, the word for croissant did not even exist in 1838. That’s when Zang launched the first Viennese bread bakery in Paris, at 92 Rue Richelieu.

Zang, whose breads included the crescent-shaped kipferl, filled his patented steam oven with moist hay to add “a lustrous sheen.” Customers took notice. So did French bakers. A trend was born.

A Danish features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Pxhere)

Surely the Danish came from Denmark. No, Austrian bakers invented that, too.
Photo by Pxhere

A Moveable Feast of Food Origins

In the annals of food history, one culture whets the appetite of others:

San Francisco launched “Italian soda.”
New York, not Nome, popularized Baked Alaska.
Dutch Baby has nothing to do with the Netherlands—ask Seattleites.
Indian-style vindaloo has ties to Portugal
Tijuana, Mexico is the birthplace of Caesar Salad.
And a Greek Canadian invented Hawaiian Pizza.

As for the pommes frites that preceded fries, they really are French, right? Belgian food historians say, “Au contraire!” Others credit Pedro Cieza, “teenage conquistador turned historian” of Spain. “Hold on!” say others, “It all began with the ancient Incas.”

Yes, the food on your plate is a gastronomical map of the world. Once you bring cultural awareness to the table, it’s all a culinary travel adventure.

A rice dish in Athens, Greece, and a bowl decorated with names of world cities featuresin the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

An Asian restaurant in Athens evokes the global migrations of culinary cultures.
© Joyce McGreevy

• Team Omaha or Team New York? To read more about origins of the Reuben, see the Blackstone story here and food critic Craig Claiborne’s nod to its New York origin story here.

• Get the skinny on a puffy bread. Order August Zang and the French Croissant here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Joyce McGreevy Comments

Cultural Encounters/The World's Chefs/Worldwide Sites

Feb

The Many Worlds of English

by Joyce McGreevy on February 18, 2020

A female traveler looking at the electronic board of departures in an airport, symbolizing an opportunity for crossing cultures (Image © Jan Vašek/Pixabay)

Why Crossing Cultures Always Means Learning a Second Language

Most English speakers who travel internationally and enjoy crossing cultures have, at one time or another, depended on people in other countries to also speak English. Such moments may arise because

even a polyglot is bound to miss one or two of the world’s 6800 languages.
your language learning app doesn’t cover how to say, “Could someone help me retrieve my cellphone from the hotel swimming pool?”
long-haul flights, long layovers, lost luggage, jet lag, and an unfamiliar environment have temporarily stalled your progress in speaking a second language.

Or as a public speaker once said, “It’s cool that people Over There are all multilingual and stuff, but me, I just travel where people speak English.”

British English and American English dictionaries suggest that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Humorist Stephen Leacock wrote, “In Canada we . . . use English for literature,
Scots for sermons, and American for conversation.”
Photo by Pixabay

The Universal Language?

OK, the “public speaker” was actually a fellow airline passenger talking on his cellphone, but clearly, he intended everyone onboard to have the benefit of his perspective. As a flight attendant approached him, he delivered one last insight: “More people speak English than any other language.”

Did anyone correct our talkative traveler? I’ll never know. We were all retreating into our headphones by this stage. But more than 1.2 billion speakers of Mandarin Chinese might beg to differ.

“We’re Number Two!”

English actually comes in second, with 983 million speakers. That includes people who speak English as a second or third language.

Still, it got me wondering. What if the man in Seat 37-B keeps his word—his English word, apparently—only visiting countries where English is an official language?

He will be in for a surprise. Because while millions of us around the world speak English, we don’t all speak it the same way.

Imagine our traveler in another English-speaking country. He puts down his cellphone long enough to hear a local say . . .

I could murder a cuppa. (British English)
Shall I be Mother? (ditto)
Strong enough to trot a mouse across. (Irish English)
Let’s grab a capp! (Australian English)
One double-double. (Canadian English)

A mouse on a fence evokes a common expression in Irish English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

In Ireland, what’s “strong enough to trot a mouse across?”
Photo by Pixabay

None of these English speakers is engaged in foul play, role play, building a bridge for rodents, stealing a hat, or placing a bet. The first three are discussing tea— craving it, pouring it, or brewing it—while the other two prefer coffee.

Oh, I see: English, the universal language, spans a universe of languages.

Opposite World

Even when English speakers use the same words, they don’t always have the same meaning:

In Canada, to table a motion means to consider a proposal. In the U.S., it means to set it aside. When Canadians write a test, they’re the ones taking it.
In England, public school is what Americans call private school, and vice versa.
In Ireland, being called bold or cute is not a compliment. The former means you’re acting out, the latter means you’re sneaky.

Like Day and Night

Something as simple as daily routine highlights differences among the worlds of English:

In Ireland, wearing a vest to work would mean showing up in your undershirt. A waistcoat completes that three-piece suit. Putting on pants? Do add trousers, or you’ll get chilly legs and chillier looks.

A brogue, or shoe, highlights the differences in American, Irish, British, and other English language words. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

No one in Ireland “speaks with a brogue,”
but some wear brogues on their feet.
Photo by Pxhere

In many English-speaking countries, drivers check under the bonnet and stow belongings in the boot before motoring to the company car park (or in Canada, the parkade). They top up the petrol, too. But if the car is munted (NZ), goosed (Scotland), or banjaxed (Ireland), they may ring a taxicab or cadge a lift from a friend.

A utility vehicle, or ute, evokes a common expression in Australian English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Fear not the deadly ute! That’s Australian English for “impressive SUV!”
Photo by Pxhere

Eating Your Words

After work, do the messages (shop for groceries). In a hurry? In England, order a bacon sarni (sandwich) or other takeaway from the chippy. Wash it down with a bevvy. Don’t need much? In New Zealand, pop into the convenient corner dairy.

Dairy cows evoke a common word in New Zealand Kiwi English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

You won’t find cows at a New Zealand dairy—just grocery staples.
Photo by Pxhere

Prefer home cookery? American English speakers might puzzle over a shopping list of common words like rocket, capsicum, courgette, aubergine—or arugula, peppers, zucchini, eggplant. A Scottish English list might include brambles, tatties, and ‘neeps—berries, potatoes, and turnips or swedes.

Set the table with cutlery, crockery, and serviettes. Afterward, serve afters—dessert. During the washing-up, don’t be a silly eejit (Ireland) who overloads the garburetor (Canada) with food scraps.

Give Me a Break!

While Americans take vacations, many English speakers go on holiday. In New Zealand, Kiwi English speakers head to a bach, or holiday home, pack togs for swimming, and wear sunnies to protect their eyes. They take off their trainers, slip their feet into jandals, and sip cold stubbies from the chilly bin. But if the weather suddenly turns, they’ll don a pair of gum boots, a.k.a. wellies.

A boy at the beach wearing gum boots, wellies, or rain boots shows that English word meanings differ in different cultures, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Wade into any language and you’ll net fascinating finds.
Photo by Pixabay

Wading into a World of Words

As you can see, English, like all languages, is dynamic, forever exploring the multilingual. On almost every continent, different cultures shape English to suit their own needs, influences, and sense of place.

So where does this leave our traveler from Seat 37-B?

I’m hoping that as he explores the worlds of English, talking with people in new places, he’ll discover that differences enliven communication. That differences are, interestingly, something we all have in common. That crossing cultures and delighting in differences can even lead to the fun—and benefits—of learning a second language.

Two men enjoying conversation evoke the fun of learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Why blather on your mobile? Wherever you travel,
a proper natter with chums is much more fun!
Photo by Pxhere

See John McWhorter’s TedTalk on reasons to learn a second language here.

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