After
bouncing around between one Bed and Breakfast to another for the first few days,
we spent a week residing on the small peninsula jutting into Castlemaine Harbor,
south of the Dingle Peninsula and north of the small village of Cromane. For a
reasonable sum, a person can rent a “cottage” in Ireland. The one we inhabited
wasn’t as quaint as I would imagine an Irish cottage to be, but instead was a very
spacious newly built home. It was also a symbol of the rise and fall of what is
known as the Celtic Tiger economy. A surge in the technology and pharmaceutical
industries created an economic boom prior to the new millennium, the effects of
which continued until the Great Recession in 2008. Our cottage was built on the
tail end of the Tiger. After the real estate bubble burst it never sold.
Weeks ago I
started this column by referencing my Irish ancestry. Quite a few branches trace
back to communities across Ireland. It is probably not much of a coincidence,
therefore, that our primary place of lodging, we later learned, happened to be near
the town in which the McKenna branch purportedly originates—Killorglin in
County Kerry.
Despite
my failure to adequately research our family history in advance, we thought we
would wing it and see if anyone knew of any locals with the last name McKenna.
The inebriated patron we consulted at the nearest pub in town hadn’t heard of
any, until he thoughtfully pondered it another couple of minutes and then
remembered his wife’s maiden name was McKenna. Without our prompting he dialed
her up on his cell phone and then handed it over to allow us to do the talking.
I’m not sure what that says about the status of their marriage. Regardless, she
was friendly and suggested we stop by the church office and page through their
records.
The
next day we did exactly that and found the church secretary, like most Irish,
was very accommodating. She pulled out the books and quickly gave us the
Genealogy 101 lesson I am certain she is accustomed to giving tourists like us searching
the country of 4.5 million people for a relative from six generations back.
We
began scanning the relevant pages for McKenna when she interjected and warned
us that it would be improper to only search for the spelling we were accustomed
to. Variations of McKenna could also include Kenna, McGenna, Genna, MaKenna,
MacKenna, MacKennagh, MacKinna, MacKena, or even
Ginna. We would have to search them all.
As we
narrowed it down by name we began to look more closely at dates when again she
interjected and urged us not to put too much faith in the accuracy of dates
either. If you can’t rely on the spelling of the names or the accuracy of dates,
then you don’t have much to go off of, in my estimation. We did have one thing
playing in our favor—we were searching for McKenna rather than O’Sullivan. The
inflection in her voice took on a sober tone when she stated that the hair on
the back of her neck raises high when someone walks through the door announcing
they are searching for an O’Sullivan. Our survey of the local cemetery
confirmed the frequency of the O’Sullivan name—nearly one in every three stones
appeared to bear that moniker.
Despite
these inherent challenges, some folks are able to successfully place the pieces
in order, but it became clear we weren’t going to do so that morning. Never mind
that anyway, as she then came forth with the most critical information of the
day—these exact records are all online at www.irishgenealogy.ie/en/ and paging
through the books, as romantic as it might seem at the time, was completely
unnecessary. Just then the office phone started to ring so we quickly thanked
her for her time and assistance and departed.
I also
started the column by giving a brief history of the infamous potato famine. I
can assure you the famine is no longer, and potatoes persist in abundance
despite the absence of widespread poverty that originally made potatoes a
staple in the diet many years ago. Dining at a pub one evening I ordered some
species of local fish of which I was not familiar and can no longer recall.
Like any good Irish meal, it came with some mashed potatoes and a vegetable as
advertised on the menu. I was a bit surprised when the waitress delivered a
side of French fries with the rest of my meal. This happened again later in the
trip. It wasn’t an extra side I had requested, nor had it been indicated on the
menu they were included. Bonus fries, I call them, and they seem to be given
away like water.
To be more
accurate, these fries are technically called “chips” in Ireland. Meanwhile,
what we call chips are called “crisps.” Pudding as we know it is nothing like
pudding in Ireland. Irish pudding is a breakfast food composed of pork meat and
fat, suet (beef or mutton fat), bread, oatmeal, and sometimes blood (from what,
I didn’t ask). Pudding is an essential component of the traditional Irish
breakfast served by most B&Bs. Soup in Ireland doesn’t have chunks. It is
puréed.
Stew is more like our soup. Chicken goujons are chicken strips. The Irish do
not say they are “hungry.” Instead they announce they are feeling “peckish.” The
list goes on.
When it was our
turn to get served at the table or the bar, consistently the wait staff would
ask, some with genuine concern, “Are you okay?”—almost as if initiating a
little friendly small talk. My instincts were always to respond, “Yes, I am
doing fine.” But when I did this while waiting to order a drink, of course,
they would pass me on by and hustle off to the next customer who wasn’t “doing
okay.”
By the time
we were done pestering the patient wait staff each night with questions about what
unfamiliar words meant and what each menu item actually consisted of, they were
probably ready to present us a basket of fries and say, “take it or leave it.” Tipping
is generally unnecessary in Ireland. Nevertheless, I usually found myself adding
extra, hoping it would serve as an informal apology for our unfamiliarity, indecisiveness,
and delay.
Unlike places
like Italy or India, you don’t go to Ireland to indulge in great or exotic food,
since most of their fare can be found right here at home. Nevertheless, we
never went hungry, thanks to those generous servings of potatoes.
