First helpstay

I have been working pretty much exclusively on the drive up to the two houses, which is about 100 yards long. It is one of those primitive roads that you see all over Ireland. There is a patch of grass in the center and for the tires of cars are two strips consisting of rocks and dirt and gravel. On the sides are the age old Irish walls simply made of rocks stacked upon each other. My work involves taking up sod on any side that is becoming too narrow for cars and trucks, carting it in a wheelbarrow somewhere else and dumping it. Then if the ground beneath the sod has become compromised, that is, if it's soil that grass may grow up on again or if there are holes, or if it's too slippery, I arrange rocks upon it in such a way that it is flat. I imagine that it's like building the Irish rock walls (which is something I'd like to do at some point), but a lot more simple. This is the kind of road that you take for granted until you realize how much work is required to maintain it. I also trim back the brambles, or blackberry bushes, if you will... this is a job I'm not too keen on. They are constantly fighting their way onto the drive, and as we all know, they are fucking relentless and grow like mad. It's the kind of work that always needs doing, but no one wants to do it.

Sometimes I help mind Rafael, who is a handful and talks and talks and talks. He seems to have taken to me quite well, he'll come up to me and say 'Hi dan hi dan hi dan...' ad infinitum.

The weather here is still absolutely terrible. It was my first day off on sunday and I was hoping to do a little hiking or hitchike to the nearest town, either Bantry or Ballydehob, but no. It didn't stop raining all fucking day. Though, when I'm working it has no problem being relatively nice and dry, ah well, Murphy's Law right? It's cold and wet here. The exception being Saturday, luckily enough, as we went to the annual Ballydehob street festival. Ballydehob is just up the way, a town of about 1,500 or so. The festival took place on the small main street which is on a hill. The whole thing was all quite silly, really. The first event was for the kids, it was a turnip race in which the youngsters have to throw a turnip up the hill race after it, pick it up again, throw it, and repeat the process until reaching the finish line. The second event was the dog races, in which dogs of varying sizes raced up the hill, quite a lark. And the final event, my favorite, was the wheelbarrow race. This was for the adults and they had to push their partner up the hill in a wheelbarrow and stop at a station where the rider has to chug a bottle of beer before they continue up to the next station, of which I think there were two or three. At the end of it all, Rubicon, a celtic rock band played on the back of a truck. Surprisingly, I actually enjoyed the band, the electric fiddle player had a cordless device set up, so he could rip it up on the fiddle and mix in with the crowd. Grand.

On sunday, we went to Fossett's circus, Ireland's national circus. It was kind of standard Barnum and Bailey's style fare, but smaller and very well done with all the clowns, acrobats, trapeze artists, the big round metal cage with the motorcycles going round and round in it as the finale. I was picked by the clown to participate (the second I made eye contact I knew I was in for it) in a little stunt in which I and three other men of similar size were made to sit in four chairs arranged so as we could each lean onto the other's lap. At which point, the clown pulled out each chair one by one until we were laying down on each other with our knees at right angles supporting ourselves with nothing else holding us up. It was a laugh riot. Grand.

With all the shitty weather I've just been reading a lot, really. Upon moving into my room I found that a previous WOOFER left Dave Eggers's 'What is the What' and decided to give it a try. I attempted his 'A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius' but got 3/4 through and found it intolerably egotistical (yes, I know this is alluded to in the title, self-referentiality whoopdeedoo, even taking this into condideration, I found it absolutely asinine), conceited and trite. But I find I'm rather addicted to this one. Eggers adopts the subject's almost childlike way of speaking and it's quite refreshing, not to mention it escapes everything I hated about 'Heartbreaking Work...' As depressing as the subject matter is, it's deeply moving and enjoyable to read. I'm almost done already.

I am now without facial hair. No more 'stache. It's been a few days and I still think it looks weird and surprising when I see my reflection. I'm sure you'll be happy, Deidre.

One last thing: the stars. At night the clouds seem to clear up more often than during the day and I'm thankful for it. It reaveals a blanket of stars that I'm used to having to trek to the mountains to see. I found this to be the case in Donegal also. It's not that populated out here or in Donegal, and thus the light pollution is not that bad. The towns are far more simple than ones, even the smaller ones, in the states because they're far older. It's beautiful and I find it wonderfully refreshing to see.

written by  Dan Schoo on August 20, 2008 from Ballydehob, Ireland
from the travel blog: A cowboy boot to Europe's ass...
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