Sing-Song the Witch is Dead...

Due to a lack of consistent wifi and armed with only my iPad, I'm afraid to say that I didn't get to do much blogging while in Ireland.  (Granted, my post about Irish animals was one of utmost importance that I knew I had to get up, no matter what the cost.)  Regardless, I also viewed my time on the Emerald Isle as one of reflection and relaxation, since come August I will hit the ground running with work.  Now that I've been home for two days, with only minimal jet lag, I've had a chance to digest everything I've learned and realized over the last few weeks.

Most importantly, I'M MOVING TO IRELAND!

I mean, when I found out about this service opportunity, the fact that it was abroad was just the cherry on top.  After a long talk with a dear friend over it, we both agreed that I would've applied for the position even if it was in some boring American city.  Ireland wasn't necessarily a country that had ever appealed to me because they speak English there.  Where's the challenge in that?  Even so, I'm quickly realizing that the cultural adjustments I will have to get used to are more staggering than I ever could have envisioned.  The most important piece of new culture I encountered were the sing-songs.

What exactly are these, you ask?  Pretty much what it says - sitting in a circle and singing songs.  Someone will inevitably have their guitar, and probably a whole slew of other instruments, including Irish tin whistles and a bodhrán (Irish drum).  What do we sing?  Everyone has their "party piece," usually a traditional Irish tune or a popular arrangement.  Was I prepared for this hugely important part of Irish culture?  NOT. AT. ALL.  I can barely stand listening to the radio, and beyond Danny Boy, I knew about zero Irish songs coming into this.  My limited knowledge of American musical theatre and operatic literature wasn't likely to get me through this.  Or was it?

At the insistence of Teach Bhríde IV's Nick, I was urged to sing a little of Carmen's Habenera one night at a particularly lively sing-song hosted by our friend, Therese.  The thought to sing something a little - ahem - more classical had crossed my mind, but it definitely didn't seem appropriate for the setting. I mean, come on, where's my grand piano?!  However, I got over myself pretty quickly and sang it anyway.  Everyone seemed to really enjoy the familiar aria.  I ended up using it at a few different "sessions," (which are mostly instruments rather than singing,) and even at a post-morning mass tea.

One of the infamous "Tea Ladies" at Clonard parish is Maura - a delightful woman who is the epitome of what it means to be stylish.  She is a truly sweet soul who is there every morning without fail.  Our parish priest, Fr. Denis, asked me one evening after I sang at a session if I'd be willing to sing the Habanera at tea the following morning.  The Tea Ladies were celebrating Maura's 70th birthday, and Fr. Denis informed me that Carmen was her all-time favorite opera.  (She saw it three times in one year!)  I hesitated - Carmen and I have a rough history after some underlying health issues caused me to give a not-so-favorable performance of the aria at my junior recital.  The fact that I was even singing the Habenera at all was a testament to the level of comfort I was feeling in my new surroundings.

However, I realized you only live once, and if Maura was living to 70 and beyond, it was the least I could do for my new friend.  The crowd who came out for Maura's birthday tea was quite larger than normal.  I stood up and sang it just like I had the previous nights.  The smaller space made my voice seem even larger than I think it already is, and it felt quite staggering.  Afterward, everyone was very appreciative of my effort.  Wexford Town, with good reason, is a little picky about their opera - they hold an annual festival every fall, which is considered the most important in Ireland.  However, I passed their test, and Maura, especially, was so delighted with my special gift to her.  The next morning, I was asked - no, dragged - to give a repeat performance for a couple of the "regulars" who had to miss Maura's birthday.  I think I might've scared a couple of the maintenance men who were helping themselves to tea in the kitchen.

So, I suppose I came to Ireland with my "party piece" in tow, after all.  It isn't necessarily the most traditional of the bunch, but it is definitely something unique to me.  I'm still preparing for the fall, when I know that the members of the sing-songs are going to be expecting much more out of me because I know exactly what's coming!  However, it didn't hurt to also have a monologue in my back pocket when the Habanera began getting a little overused - even if I did forget the words to the end of it...

Cheers!

--Joy.