Has spring left Ireland? It was last seen in Berlin, Wrocław and Aleksandrów Kujawski. In Galway, the spring left its yellow sneakers, I found them lying near the river in wild garlic leaves. They fit in my feet perfectly, so I laced up my long laces and set off in search of my lost spring.
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Finally is snowing in Galway. I stick my head out the window, the white flakes dance and fall on my face. It very rarely have fluffy winter in Ireland. Today’s snow is also fleeting, I know it is one day, but I am happy as a child of it.
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Volunteering connects diverse people because helps us to break out of the comfort zone. This is always the beginning of the adventure with the community but also with ourselves.
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There is a cobalt sky behind the window, and a well-known house with a red door. Colourful lights hung on a curtain rod shine with peace. Its glow is reflected in the chocolate cup saucer.
I take out a small table and blue chopping board on it. Next to it, on the sofa, there are old magazines, extraordinary papers, scraps, and a pencil case with liners, scissors, and glue.
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Today we celebrate International Volunteer Day. On this occasion, I would like to introduce you to my volunteer friends: Sita Karki and Hugh Murphy.
They born in various countries, are completely different ages, and have other passions. But equally, they share a big heart and volunteer work as Wave Makers for the European Capital of Culture Galway 2020.
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Many people like to eat porridge for breakfast, and I do it too. Oatmeal was reportedly popular as early as the Bronze Age. But do you have your own story with porridge? Mine is very simple and lives in my heart.
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Once again Ireland showed me that it does not take much to create the magic.
On the 1st of October is chilly and wet. I put on the Wave Maker’s orange jacket and get on my blue bike. Nothing is happening on Walter Macken Place, and the Mervue housing estate seems to be lifeless. I can see mold on the buildings and temporary road works on the street. However, when I look more closely, I can notice sunflowers in the garden and even a small greenhouse.
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Finally, I am going by train. No matter if only fifteen minutes, I feel the same call for adventure as if I were going to Dublin. Meanwhile, I get off in Athenry – a tiny town near Galway.
On the platform, I meet Bronagh. She is also a Wave Maker of Galway 2020. We will be flying kites with Hope it Rains. It is not raining, thanks God, but the wind is as usual. Who would have seen West Ireland without the wind?
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I love murals in urban space. But I missed them in Galway. Meanwhile, something has changed. Thought-provoking photomontages appeared on several buildings in my city, and they called to me.
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This year, the White Locomotive / “Biała Lokomotywa”/ – cozy literary festival from Łazieniec, in Poland organized by Daria Lisiecka, sat at my table in Glaway, in Ireland. Locomotive whistled LIVE through the monitor window. For me it was an awesome experience, truly intense, but different if I could sit under a tree in the front of Edward Stachura’s house. However, digitally the White Locomotive had the same power to take me to the meadow.
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