A diary with reports and pictures of my life in Ireland                    

The Irish diary

Well, there is no translation of my Web page so far.

But there will be. The plan is to finish the German part first because the reason why I am doing this, is to show the guys back home in Germany, Austria and Switzerland what it means, to live in Ireland.

When people in other countries are talking about Germans, they always think Germans are crazy about Adolf Hitler( a real mix-up, the obsessed ones are the British), we walk around wearing leather trousers ( something is wrong there again: The guys in leather trousers are Bavarians. It is actually a part of Germany, but if you ask me, I don’t know why….) and we drink beer day and night ( well in this case, we would have something in common)….

And when people in other countries talk about Ireland, there is the same kind of “Brain-movie” playing. Everybody here needs to be red-haired, a good catholic person, all unmarried girls are virgins (ha,ha, don’t think I ever met a virgin in Ireland) and so on…..

Not in a Pub, I am too old for this. I was at a Barber and she cut my last hairs. I like to talk to the Irish. You learn so many things about their hopes, their dreams and how they see their country. I asked her: “How do you feel with all those foreigners around?” She was very simple but she really made me think about her answer. She answered: “At the beginning, I liked the foreigners. But they are more and more trying to take over our country. They don’t talk English. Last week somebody came in here and said: Me..good….haircut. I thought, he needed a haircut but after 10 Minutes, I figured out, he wanted to work as a barber in this shop. What was he thinking? He should at least understand our customers. Why do people come to our country without speaking our language? I tell you another story. One Saturday recently, me and my Boyfriend went to McDonalds. You know this Drive-through? You need to talk to this microphone and you cant understand the answer? Well, the person on the end of the line didn’t care. My Boyfriend didn’t know, what to order so he said, “ Give me one more minute”. The answer of the person was ”Large fries or small fries?”. My boyfriend thought, she might not have understand him and he repeated: “No, give me one more Minute”. The answer made my Boyfriend berserk: “What drink?” My Boyfriend answered: “F…off, biatch. Go back to the country where you came from and people could talk to you…”

I wonder whether she had more stories like this but I was running out of hair. I learned here, that all Irish are friendly, very helpful (Police in Ireland gave me a light bulb when the backlight of my car was broken. This never ever happened to me before. In Germany the would have fined me…); funny and very open to everything.

And I don’t know, when my Irish adventure finally ends one day. But I could promise you one thing:

Whenever this page is finally finished in English, you will understand what it is about and I will try, not to do too many mistakes….

Here is a nice example about Ireland and the Irish.

To me, they founded the Queuing. The little movie was taken by me in Ennis at Aldi. Even if the special offer was a very special one, you would never see a Queue like This in Germany. We would have an unorganised bunch of people in front of the shop…