July 7, 2007
I was running vigorously along a cinder path, flanked by the Smithsonian Castle and the Museum of Natural History, when I suddenly realized that running was my heaven on earth. It was also the optimal time to be in D.C. during the pomp-filled Smithsonian Folklife Festival, showcasing Northern Ireland and the Mekong Delta. The most northern country of the U.K. was experiencing a watershed moment following ten years of stability and peace. Over 100 participants from Ulster — performers, artists, storytellers, craftspeople, cooks, etc. — traveled to the Nation’s Capital for several months to teach, demonstrate and display their lifestyle in their Celtic homeland.
Running and sweating profusely along my well-worn path, it’s very rare to have a chance to enjoy a cold one.
Noticing that the Northern Ireland display had an actual outdoor bar and dehydrated after an arduous run, it was hard to resist the cooldown. I ordered a creamy pint of Guinness that would surely quench my raging thirst.
This is where I met Jamie, a cute, cheerful brunette who had an avid interest in anything Celtic. This was her second year volunteering for the Folklife Fest, and she enlisted so that others could enjoy her passion for folk.
“Some people have volunteered for 30 years. Once you serve for 10, you get a pin. Some say that the pin’s diamond is a shaving from the Hope Diamond on display at the Natural History Museum.”
The Irish love to drink, toast, and chat, and soon Mark Wilson and Lee Lawson, stylish musicians strutted out, showing off their remarkable set of drums. The two could twirl the drumsticks like a cheerleader’s baton and never miss a beat. There was a variety of other musicians and bagpipers at the festival, but Mark was one hell of a drummer who could put on a captivating show leaving the crowd in awe.
Mark introduced me to Tommy Sands — a legendary Irish-ballad singer whose bariton Irish Gaelic voice could calm even my most excruciating painful runs. I could listen to him endlessly and grieved when the show concluded. I gave Tommy one of my signature military coins, and he presented me with one of his CDs that had not yet been released — I felt royally honored and overjoyed by such a heartfelt gesture from such an endearing musician.
Mark picked up a drum stick and gave it a twirl. “Why don’t you join us at the Key Bridge Marriott after the festival.”
“Yeah, it’s the after-hours entertainment in the ‘Olympic Village’ for all the performers,” Lee added.
When I arrived in the drab brown ballroom I was immediately met by Scottish bagpipers and colorfully dressed people from the Bahnar tribe of central Vietnam. There was lots of music, dancing, multicultural harmony, and of course traditional ethnic food.
Mark picked up a traditional French baguette with what looked like deli meat inside. “What kind of sandwich is this?”
Jamie picked up a slice of pate. “It’s a Banh Mi, a Vietnamese baguette.”
“Wow, the crust is super thin and crispy. What’s inside?” Lee asked.
“That’s precisely what makes a Banh Mi different than an American sub. It has pork belly, grilled pork, pate, cucumbers, cilantro, and jalapeños,” Mr. Nguyễn, who was responsible for narrating the tall tales of the Mekong Delta, replied.
Mark took a bite and chewed softly. “Geez, I’ve grown up loving corn beef and Ulster fry, but I appreciate the opportunity to try different cuisines.”
We stayed up late meeting new people, dancing, and consuming Guinness and Harp. At 2 am, we hung out by the pool and went for a dip.
“Have you visited Irish pubs in the area?” Jamie turned and asked.
“Don’t believe I have, except maybe on St Patrick’s Day. Any recommendations to get a good pint of Guinness?”
“In Virginia, there are Ireland’s Four Provinces, and in D.C., there’s the Irish Channel.”
“Super, word of mouth is the most reliable restaurant guide.”
Tommy raised a pint of Guinness. “The mark of a true Irish pub is not the cottage pies or stouts, but real Irish drinking music.”
“And real football, not the fake one that goes spiral through the air,” Mark said. “There’s nothing like Ulster rugby — the Americans just copied us.”
You guys should take a tour of the Pentagon tomorrow,” I suggested. “Would love to show you where I work.”
“Really, didn’t know they were giving out tours now after 9/11.”
“Well, we’ll visit the Sept 11 Memorial and chapel as well as the Hall of Heroes featuring the names of all the Medal of Honor recipients, but I’ll also give you a personal tour and show you the DOD (Department of Defense) press offices and briefing room.”
“Would love that,” Mark replied. “And one day, I hope to show you my stomping grounds and spectacular countryside of Northern Ireland.”
