I spent one of my past weekends on another trip organized by my university’s International Students’ Society – this time to Derry and Belfast, which are both cities in Northern Ireland. It took me awhile to realize that I was actually entering a different country, since Northern Ireland is part of the United Kingdom. This was my first trip outside of the Republic of Ireland, and this would be my first encounter with the pound – another currency in my wallet!
During our first day on the trip, we learned about the Troubles in Northern Ireland, a political conflict that lasted from the late 1960s through 1998. This conflict concerned the status of Northern Ireland and whether it should remain within the United Kingdom, as desired by the Protestant unionists and loyalists (mostly British), or if it should join a united Ireland, as desired by the Catholic nationalists (mostly Irish). This conflict might also explain why our big green Paddywagon bus was egged that day in Derry, much to the dismay of our bus driver. He explained to us that the Protestant areas of Derry and Belfast would not appreciate a huge green bus driving around the neighborhood (green signifying Irish or Catholic). During the Troubles, Catholics were the minority group that was discriminated against by the Protestant majority, which oftentimes led to violent armed campaigns by opposing paramilitary groups. After some time, the Catholics in Derry became aware of similar struggles for justice around the world, including our own civil rights struggle in the United States. I found it interesting that Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King, Jr. truly inspired the people of Derry to take action.
January 30, 1972 is an important day in Derry’s history known as Bloody Sunday. On this day, 26 unarmed civil rights protesters were shot by the British Army during a Northern Ireland Civil Rights Association march. 13 of the protesters were killed immediately, 7 of whom were only teenagers. These killings were later found to be unjustified, and criminal investigations for those British soldiers responsible are still ongoing to this day. I personally was shocked since I didn’t realize that this kind of discrimination still existed not too long ago. While I was sad to hear all of this, I was grateful to have learned a bit of Derry’s history.
Our second day and night was spent in Belfast. Our entire group took a black taxi tour around the city to see the different political murals from the Troubles. Most of Belfast is divided into a Catholic community and a Protestant community. Even if you consider yourself an atheist, according to one of our taxi drivers, “You are either a Catholic atheist or a Protestant atheist,” depending on the community in which you grew up or depending on the primary school you attended. It isn’t a question of religion but more so one of national identity (most Protestants consider themselves British, while most Catholics consider themselves Irish). For example, the Irish language is taught only in the Catholic schools.
There is even a peace wall in Belfast that physically separates the Catholic community from the Protestant community. In fact, both neighborhoods want the wall to be there in order to suppress the violence that had been occurring within people’s homes. I even noticed some screens that covered the backyards of the homes that were situated on one side of the wall in order to prevent damage from items that could be thrown over the wall. Our taxi driver explained to us that while these communities are separated, Catholics and Protestants can still mingle together, but they generally do so in pubs and shops within the city center and not within their respective neighborhoods. Our taxi drivers then provided us with sharpies, and many of us signed the wall with peace messages for their city. It was inspiring to see people from all over the world write messages of peace and love on this huge, long wall.
As a practicing Catholic, this all felt strange to me. Before we actually learned that these two distinct neighborhoods existed, I had wanted to attend Sunday mass. However, my roommates told me to keep quiet about it, since we were still unfamiliar with the territory and did not want to take a misstep. I truly appreciated the history lesson I received that weekend, since I had no idea that this kind of conflict still existed. I still was happy to return home (yes, I do consider Dublin my home now) where I felt more comfortable practicing my faith.
