Travel Diary by Dave Abbott
Come Back Saint Patrick - We Need You!
When 200,000 of Vancouver's citizens gather to watch downtown's Saint Patrick's Day parade this month, few will have any idea who he was or what it's all about.
Some may remember he is the patron saint of Ireland, and one of Christianity's most widely known figures, but for all his celebrity his life remains somewhat of a mystery.
Indeed many of the stories traditionally associated with St. Patrick, including the famous account of banishing all the snakes from Ireland, are false, and merely the product of hundreds of years of exaggerated storytelling.
What is known is that he was born in Britain to wealthy parents - his father was a Christian deacon - near the end of the Fourth Century and died on March 17th around 460AD.
At age 16, the story goes, a group of Irish raiders attacked his family's estate taking him to County Mayo where he spent six years working as a shepherd. He eventually escaped, believing God told him it was time to leave Ireland and returned to Britain.
After 15 years of study, he became an ordained priest and returned to Ireland as a missionary. He knew the Irish language and culture and made great inroads converting many pagan Irish to Christianity.
Of course it's no surprise that St. Patrick's life was exaggerated over the centuries - he'd be 1,547 years old this year - spinning exotic tales is the Irish way.
The first Saint Patrick's Day parade took place not in Ireland but in the United States. Irish soldiers serving in the English army marched through New York City on March 17, 1762. Gradually over 35 years Irish patriotism flourished until groups, like The Hibernian Society, gained recognition, respect and popularity.
When the Great Potato Famine hit in 1845, about one million Irish poured into the USA and Canada. Despised for their religious beliefs and funny accents, the immigrants had great difficulty finding work, which was not surprising for newspapers portrayed them in cartoons as drunken violent monkeys.
However, it didn't take long before they formed a "green machine" that wielded political power operating as a voting bloc.
Today the "Wearing of the Green" is global. From the USA and Canada to Japan, Singapore, Russia, Africa and in many European capitals (Paris has 60 Irish pubs!) Paddy's Day is cause for celebration.
In modern Ireland the "Day" was a religious occasion. All the pubs were closed until the Seventies and in 1995 the Government started a tourist campaign to showcase the occasion.
Today it's a multi-day festival. Last year one million took part in the parades, concerts, theatre production and fireworks shows.
It is clear to those who knew it 10 or 15 years ago, that Ireland has changed radically and it is an understatement to say that the newfound affluence is causing problems.
Restraint is a characteristic usually denied the Irish along with two other aspects of their nature: patience and moderation. Neither word is in an Irishman's lexicon.
I'm perplexed. Torn between nostalgia for what was, and concern for Ireland's future, I recently witnessed a country that's become a mirror image of pastel cutouts that pass for style and elegance in middle-class America!
On our recent multiple visits to Dublin, Waterford, Galway, and other points, Hollywood's image of Ireland began to appear.
Mass housing, that makes Kilmainam Gaol look attractive, Days Inn motels, Martha Stewart pastel shops, minimalist office blocks, and ugly soviet style condos. In the rush to modernization, understandable given the impatient Celtic nature, the quintessential difference that attracts tourists is the contrast to their own culture.
North Americans have no wish to visit an Ireland dressed up like a tarty flibberty-gibbet.
"Mutton dressed up as lamb" as my mother would say.
There is no compelling need to go down the road like Cancun's Mexico, which, in pursuit of the Yankee dollar, looks like a celebrity-ho on sale to the highest bidder.
Many of Dublin's post-modern pubs are antiseptic receptacles, models of conformity, boringly predictable, assembled like an IKEA kit, with accessories from Wal-Mart. Surely we don't want Irish pubs looking like many of the neighbourhood pubs in Canada? That they would be built like ours is not surprising for it's the "Young Turk" owners that developed their know-how in America.
Essentially there are three or four Irelands.
The sprawling suburban slum-dwellers of Dublin, heavy with 14 year-olds bearing children shortly after puberty, living happily on social welfare. The contamination spreads to the foot of the Dublin Mountains.
Then there's begorrah, and bejayzus, Top o' the Mornin' and other Silver Screen expressions by Barry Fitzgerald, Maureen O'Hara and others, now common in Killarney and Waterford, to name a few.
The God Bless the Irish has been replaced by the Godless Irish.
Until the recent financial enlightenment, Mass was mandatory at least twice a week. Now only the newly born and the nearly dead see the inside of the hundreds of churches sitting vacant and short of priests.
No moderation! Only their own deathbeds, or First Communions, merits attendance.
The indulgences, perverse and ugly, of the Church elite caused disgust.
And fuelled by Euro dollars, the sense of independence and freedom from guilt reaches epic proportions.
Saint Patrick, where are you...now that we need you?
Dave Abbott's Travel Diary is heard three times daily on Jim Pattison's Radio 600AM, Vancouver. For further information, visit: www.irishlaughter.com.
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