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| Cole McGrath is a sophomore English major and writes 'International House of Slaw' for the Daily News. His views do not necessarily agree with those of the newspaper. |
DUBLIN, Ireland -- Sometimes, our bodies and minds yearn for an escape.
Our bodies grow fatigued from too much activity. Our minds can become overwhelmed with information to the point no matter our good intentions; nothing can crack our internal mental barrier.
Sometimes our hearts and souls need vacations from the little aches and pains of everyday life too, and sometimes, we don't even realize it until they come home.
This past weekend, I traveled across the country of Ireland so I could be in Dublin on the most Irish of days, St. Patrick's Day. I figured that since Dublin is Ireland's largest city, it would probably have the biggest celebration. I was right in thinking that it would be big, but I grossly underestimated how big.
When I arrived at about noon, the streets were already clogged with people. The city pulsed as every avenue became a surging artery carrying green-shirted cells. The hum of the crowd made the buildings breathe a heavy breath. Dublin was alive.
There was a parade that was invisible to me beyond the throngs of people. Some lucky ones were able to climb up on statues, stoplights and stepladders to see over the masses, but all I could do was stand 10 people away from the curb and listen to the bagpipes.
My eyes have never seen so many people in one place before in my life. In fact, if I added up all the people I have ever seen in my life before Monday and compared it to the number I saw on that one day, St. Patrick's Day might actually come out ahead.
I don't think any of the pictures I took could do it justice. Just trust me on this one.
I have to admit that I was a little nervous at first. After all, St. Patrick's Day is normally associated with a great deal of drinking, and anytime so many people are thrown together with so much alcohol, trouble is a possibility.
All my fears quickly went away, though, when I looked at the thousands of faces streaming by me. Smiles bigger and brighter than all the stars in Texas shine from O'Connell Street to St. Stephen's Green. Irish eyes were certainly smiling.
It wasn't just the Irish taking part in this Guinness-infused euphoria though.
I saw Spaniards wearing shamrocks. I saw Chinese enjoying good craic. I saw South Africans snacking on soda bread. In Dublin, for one day, everyone was a little Irish and everyone got along.
On the train back to Limerick that night, I couldn't help but dance inside myself at the beautiful day I had just enjoyed. My shoulders weighed nothing and my shoes were clouds. I was infinitely happy.
It is amazing how quickly things can change.
When I got back to my apartment, George W. Bush was speaking.
The war. I had forgotten about the war.
Over the three days I had been away, the terms "weapons of mass destruction" and "second resolution" had all but disappeared from my vocabulary. But then, the all came flooding back.
As I watched Bush use words like "destroy" and "annihilate," my heart unpacked the bags, while my soul started flipping through day-old photographs that seemed to be taken a forever ago.
Welcome back boys, welcome back.
Write to Cole at cpmcgrath@bsu.edu
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