The Burren and the Power of Identity

On day two of the West tour, we spent a large chunk of time at the Connolly family farm in Oughtmama, Clare. The farm was run by the family of Caroline, our tour guide. Her cousin Dara gave us a tour of the farm and the burren, the word used to describe the rocky mountain land of the West.

As we climbed higher up the mountain, he told us about the history of the Irish farming this rocky land. His farm has been in his family for over 300 years, and you could tell that he was intensely proud of his family's and his people's history of farming and working the land. Every particular oddity, like how the farmers bring their cattle up the mountain in the winter and to the valleys in the summer instead of the other way around, was special, unique. He had a connection to his family's land such that I've never witnessed. 

There was even a faerie tree on the property. Legend says that at these trees, faeries leave their underground world and rise to the surface. Humans tie their problems to the tree, leaving their problems "with the faeries". 

On the backside of the mountain, Dara pointed out the "peace walls", which scar almost every mountain in the Burren. During the time of the famine, England refused to just hand out aid. But they also didn't want to Irish to become modern and successful. Instead, they established useless public works projects and made the starving people work on them for food. These walls are useless, and you could see that even though he had lived there his whole life and saw the walls every day, Dara was still angry at the thought of the British making these starving people suffer so unnecessarily. 

After the hike, Caroline's family had a buffet waiting for us, composed entirely of homegrown, organic produce. Quiche, salad, bulger wheat, bean salads...it was honestly some of the best food I've ever had. There was no comparison; the taste of home grown food is simply on another level. 

Afterwards, we played hurling and sang songs on the front lawn; as earlier in the week proved, I'm still terrible at hurling. I attempted again, anyway.

Visiting the farm, I was acutely aware of the family's pride and ties to their land. They worked hard to make it successful and wanted to show that success to us. 

I think they succeeded.