Green Day in Galway

(I saw a kid today wearing a Green Day hoodie, and the title was born.)

If two blogs two days in a row is unorthodox, then two in one day is absolutely unheard-of! Consider it a St. Patrick’s Day treat. Besides, I got thirty minutes of free Internet access in this hostel by booking on hostelworld.com! And tomorrow is a special day set aside for a special post, so I’ll get today’s business out of the way now.

Galway’s St. Patrick’s Day Parade was great fun! Kind of like Mebane’s Christmas Parade in character, though not at night. My pictures will tell a great deal more than I ever could, especially in just thirty minutes, but I’ll give a run-down of the highlights:

Favorite float: Not really a float, but I don’t know what else you call the entries in a parade. It was the Narnia “float,” hosted by a church and complete with a wardrobe door, lamppost, and Mr. Tumnus–followed by Rihanna’s “Umbrella” song. No, I’m not kidding, and I’m not making it up. “You can stay under my umbrella, ella, ella, eh, eh, eh…”

Second-favorite float: The Slovic group who performed a traditional folk dance down the street. And the leaders were in traditional garb. Pretty sweet. You’ll know what I mean when I get the pictures up.

Best part: The very best part of the whole parade, though, was at the end when my neighbour, an elderly Irishman, stooped down to pick up a pamphlet from the ground that happened to be from a church. He read it aloud: “How to put passion back into this Holy Week,” or something along those lines, and then he said to me, “I know how that’s done!” And then he gave me the plan of salvation (which, for those who may not have heard, is to admit that you have done things that make God unhappy, believe that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to the world to take your place in the punishment of those wrong things by dying on a cross and being raised back to life after three days of stone-cold death, and finally commit your life to Him, surrendering everything for the fulfilling life that He has to offer. Only he didn’t say it in so many words; he didn’t have to). I almost beat him to the punch when I said, “I know, I already have!” And then we had that great sort of moment that comes when you realise that you’ve made a sure-fire friend in only one afternoon–that feeling that I’m pretty much convinced can only come to Christians.  His last words to me:  God bless you, and have a good life.  (I got a picture with him and with his companion, so you’ll be seeing those as soon as I get to load pictures.)

As I leave you now, let me impart some wisdom: don’t pinch people on St. Patrick’s Day if they’re not wearing green. They don’t do that in Ireland. It’s just mean.

Be seeing you!