A Well Kept Man

Alli and I went for a walk one evening along the coast en route to dinner. As we were walking we saw a couple and their daughter walking their dog which looked very much like our dog, only with shorter legs and a stockier build. Alli asked what kind of dog it was hoping it was a Wheaten so then she could pretend it was her dog and give it a hug.

The happy Irishman proclaimed it to be a Glen of Imaal Terrier and then regaled us with the origin of this Irish dog breed and it's purpose (hunting badgers). We then told them of our dog and how the two look very much alike. In fact, if you took our dog and just removed about 3/4 of the length of her legs and added about 10 pounds, you'd have their dog. After talking for a bit about dogs he asked us where in the United States we were from.

This is a pet peeve of mine ever since we have arrived...everyone just assumes we are Americans. Don't they realize we are from Switzerland? (Just kidding, I actually find it quite amusing as the two of us apparently represent the USA very well, so I take it as a compliment.) We explain where we are from (Minnesota) to which he replied that he never heard of it. Most people in Europe think the United States consists of New York and Washington D.C. on the East Coast, LA on the West Coast, and if they are truly cultured they know Chicago is somewhere in-between. From what I've gathered they think that you can get from one coast to the other in about a couple hours by car, and that if you don't live in one of the aforementioned cities then you are a cowboy that lives on a farm.

Back to the story...

At this point this Irishman looks at the two of us and begins to gesture wildly. First he points at me and loudly declares "Not you", then switches his pointing to Alli while making a circular motion (apparently encompassing her person in the air) "...but YOU! Have a major portion of Irish in you." At this point I awarded him the Nobel Prize for the discovery of the century...

Seriously, did it require you making fun of the lowly German boy to point out that my lovely wife has freckles, fair skin, and red hair? Either way, Alli was accepted into the clan and I was banished into the sea with the snakes (we didn't see any snakes in Ireland so the legend of St. Patrick must be true).

Alli looked forward to each new encounter with the locals as she was able explain her Irish heritage. After telling them that she was in fact Irish (leaving out the part that she is only 1/8), what her family name was (Reilly), and where they were from (Balbriggan), we would often get the story of the Reilly's from Balbriggan. Irish people KNOW their history and where the people come from (your name tends to indicate where you are from and what your social standing is/was...apparently the Irish don't move around too much), and apparently with Alli's family they were a good family with decent social standing that seem to have mostly left Ireland during the early part of the twentieth century to seek better lives in America. I decided to ask why I didn't look Irish and they replied that my hair and skin were too dark (I think they implied my ability to tan had something to do with it, and/or the fact that I can go out in the sunlight without turning into a lobster), and that my features were more Italian or Spanish (definitely Latin) of some sort. They seemed disappointed to find out I am German, but were happy to know I made a good choice in marrying a redhead. (I didn't inform them of our Protestantism for fear of being thrown into the sea for sure).