La povertà, la campagna, la città

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Corcaigh
00martedì 31 ottobre 2006 13:53
Mi permetto di aprire un topic di tipo sociologico/culturale, tanto per cambiare [SM=g27822]
In questo clima di tigre celtica, dove il superfluo, le SUV, i bambini sovrappeso ed il colesterolo la fanno da padroni, ci dimentichiamo com'era l'Irlanda dei nostri padri e dei nostri nonni.
Non sto parlando del periodo della famine, della grande carestia in cui la gente moriva tipo Sudan o emigrava in massa. Sto parlando dell'Irlanda più umile, quella rurale o urbana e le loro differenze, quella in cui si coltivavano i turnip in giardino, la chiesa la faceva da padrona e sull'isola c'erano più pecore che esseri umani.

L'idea è di raccogliere link, articoli, testimonianze, libri, sentito dire e chi più ne ha più ne metta, che ci permettano di pitturare un quadro ormai scolorito (i miei figli quell'Irlanda là non la riconoscerebbero per niente) e paragoarlo all'irlanda di oggi, con i dovuti commenti.

Che ne pensate?
[SM=x145459]
Corcaigh
00martedì 31 ottobre 2006 14:07
Apro il dibattito con un articolo di David Mc Williams (http://www.davidmcwilliams.ie/Articles/view.asp?ArticleID=333), controverso ma intelligente autore di The pope's Children.

Superwoman 25/01/2006
Irish Independent

The other day at about four in the afternoon, while watching my daughter at a swimming lesson, I got chatting to a couple of the other parents in attendance - mainly mothers - at the side of the pool.

My phone rang.

It was a work-related query and I stopped the conversation by saying quite unselfconsciously, "I'm here with my daughter at swimming, I'll call you back in a minute." The man at the other end of the phone seemed to understand perfectly. On hearing this, one of the mothers next to me laughed, explaining that she would never say that.

When she is looking after the children and a work-related call comes through, she always tries to pretend she is somewhere high-powered and most definitely not engaged in something as frivolous and as unimportant as being with her children. This little slice of everyday life encapsulates the difference in many employers' attitudes towards working parents and it evidences the conundrum that many working women face.

When a working man says he is looking after his children at a time when most are working, he is seen as being almost virtuous. He can multi-task, he is prioritising and in tune with his work-life balance. In short, he is to be commended for his actions.

On the other hand, a working mother putting her children first is seen as uncommitted and possibly even work-shy. By being with her children, she signals that her main concern in life is not the bottom line but the clothes line. Many working women are profoundly aware of this and hate themselves for it. It is an insecurity that completely permeates their working day.

(While it is both parents' responsibility to care for their children, it is usually the working mother, not father, who organises school runs and packed lunches.) Women are constantly trying to juggle being a good worker and a good mother to their kids. It can be difficult to focus on next year's marketing strategy when the creche has just rung to complain about little Matthew who is biting other children. This dilemma can lead to seething resentment at work, where an early thirties professional mother is working for a fiftysomething company man.

He is from a generation where most mothers did not work and she is from the generation where most mothers have to work. From the perspective of childcare needs at least, she is from Venus and he is from Mars. She frantically and surreptitiously tries to organise after-school or creche timetables, while he strolls around the office taking imaginary swings - playing 'air-golf' in the same pathetic way, she thinks, as he plays sweaty 'air guitar' at the Christmas party.

What does he know about trying to be Superwoman? After all, his sweet Joan stayed at home to look after his four brats, while he was nobbing around the various committees that double for seniority in this place. What does he know about anything with his "If you don't put in the hours how can you expect to get on?" or his infuriating quotes from the likes of Gary Player: "The more I practice, the luckier I get."
This place is selling photocopiers, for heaven's sake!

And, how could she be expected to be on top of things today? Her youngest puked all over the creche and was accused of spreading germs to the other snotty three-year-olds. What's more, her older brother hit another child and she is just off the phone to that supercilious antipodean cow who runs the 'little langers creche', or whatever it's called. All this executed secretively on the phone, hoping no one could hear her when she was supposed to be devising the latest poxy 'customer satisfaction brochure' for her boss.

Her head's splitting with the pain and then the boss - who also has that infuriating habit of staring directly at her tits - announces an urgent meeting at ten to five, with the unforgivable line: "Tidy yourself up, he's a very important client for the firm, you know." How does she get out of this? All she can think of is the faces of her two neglected children, last again in the creche, waiting forlornly at the door, coats buttoned up, pining for their useless mammy.

She looks at him, in his cheap, ill-fitting off-the-peg suit, belly protruding, bad shoes, and he talks about tidying up? "Sorry, John", she says, "I can't, I've something social planned," trying to sound like Carrie Bradshaw, offhand and glamorous, as if she has a life after work. Then comes the corporate lecture about "weak links in the chain". She tries to remain calm but something gives, the dreaded out-of-body experience, and she explodes.

The boss realises it is serious and tries to defuse the situation with the no-no of all no-nos: he mentions her 'time of the month'. Every day of every week, this type of drama plays itself out in offices all over the country. This is what you get when a baby boom, dreadful child care and double income young families collide in what has rapidly become the most expensive country in Europe.

The single most significant change to our labour force in the recent past has been the enormous rise in mothers going out to work. Since the early 1990s, the number of women working has gone up by 149pc. Many came into the workforce when in their late teens and early 20s. They postponed having children until their early thirties, with the result that Ireland now has the oldest mothers in the EU.

On average, Irish mothers are having their first children at 31, as opposed to the EU norm of 29. Over 60pc of these young mothers with children under five work full time. We are also seeing another baby boom - which is the echo of the late 1970s Pope's Children boom.

All this is compounded by the emergence of a commuter generation - the Kells Angels - who are the young professionals who commute from towns such as Kells because house prices are so ludicrous in Dublin. And all the while, the productive pressures, long hours and office politics are pitting the family against the firm in the great battle for the working parent's family time and soul. If we want to avoid turning into a Prozac Nation with our working mothers suffering from nervous bre akdowns, we - as a society - have to do something about either child care or more flexible working hours, or ideally both.

The problem is only going to get worse. First, our birth-rate won't peak for another few years, as the last of the Pope's Children start to have their own kids. So demand for childcare will increase.

But as more and more Irish women - the traditional bedrock of the childcare industry - opt to go to university and get better educated, the supply of child carers will fall. So what are we to do? Do we import foreigners to look after our kids? In the US - where they work hard - they pay other, poorer women - traditionally from Latin America - to mind their children.

This would mean increasing, not decreasing, immigration of young women. Given the recent evidence that 78pc of us are in favour of tighter, not looser, immigration policies, this might not be a runner. The other avenue is to follow the European model of fewer hours worked and higher taxes to pay for subsidised childcare and longer parental leave. Again, Irish people have shown that when it comes to taxes, we are singularly against raising them.

All parties - even the mainstream Left parties are sticking rigidly to a "no new taxes" mantra. Perhaps employers might cop-on and realise if they want to keep their employees, they have to be much more flexible. The working day should be much more varied, people should be allowed flexi-time and creche facilities in work must become a reality.

Otherwise, as is the case at the moment, many professional women's careers will not survive the impact of children. Something has to give.

The great economic and social battle of the future in Ireland will not be about left versus right, capitalist versus worker but rather it will pit the two great institutions of the 21st century against each other - the firm against the family. And it will be the sisters manning the ramparts and determining the outcome.
Kanchelskis
00mercoledì 1 novembre 2006 19:26
The Mayo Constitution, 23 marzo 1847:


In Ballinrobe the workhouse is in the most awfully deplorable state, pestilence having attacked paupers, officers, and all. In fact, this building is one horrible charnel house, the unfortunate paupers being nearly all the victims of a fearful fever, the dying and the dead, we might say, huddled together. The master has become the victim of this dread disease; the clerks, a young man whose energies were devoted to the well-being of the union, has been added to the victims; the matron, too, is dead; and the respected, and esteemed physician has fallen before the ravages of pestilence, in his constant attendance on the diseased inmates. This is the position of the Ballinrobe house, every officer swept away, while the number of deaths among the inmates is unknown; and we forgot to add that the Roman Catholic chaplain is also dangerously ill of the same epidemic. Now the Ballinrobe board have complied with the Commissioner's orders, in admitting a houseful of paupers and in striking a new rate, which cannot be collected; while the unfortunate inmates, if they escape the awful epidemic, will survive only to be the subjects of a lingering death by starvation!


Shamrock80
00giovedì 2 novembre 2006 12:33
Bel topic...
Gia,ci pensavo la sera di Halloween,parlando con Chris,un autista sui 70anni,che mi raccontava come lo vivevano allora:

nel suo quartiere,c'erano tanti bambini,al tempo,e la sera di Halloween andavano porta a porta,"trick or treat"
I ragazzini allora erano semplici,e accettavano con gioia semplice frutta,poiche' i dolci non se li poteva permettere nessuno di loro.
La famiglia di Chris aveva un albero di mele in giardino,e le mele venivano distribuite tra tutti i vicini,cosicche' la sera di Halloween il piccolo Crhis,andando di porta in porta,si vedeva ritornare tutte le mele che i genitori avevano regalato nei giorni precedenti!

pero' alla fine le mele diventavano apple pie,da dividere dinuovo con tutti i vicini... [SM=g27823]
pensate che bella atmosfera doveva essere..
oggi non sappiamo nemmeno i nomi,dei nostri vicini di casa!
Corcaigh
00giovedì 2 novembre 2006 12:52
La madre di Gerard (77 anni) è vissuta e cresciuta tutta la sua vita nella campagna di nord Cork. Spesso mi racconta dei suoi ricordi di quando era bambina. Stiamo parlando degli anni '30.
Nonostante la sua famiglia fosse considerata "benestante" nel villaggio (il padre era, tra le altre cose, anche tassista, quindi possedevano un'auto!!!), la profusione di beni materiali che l'Irlanda sta vivendo oggi era una cosa inimmaginabile. Tra i suoi racconti c'era, ad esempio, che ogni anno (ed UNA volta all'anno) il vicinato "ammazzava il maiale": questi animali appartenevano ad un farmer, ma il ricavato veniva distribuito in tutto il villaggio (pagato, ma a prezzi moooolto simbolici, e spesso con scambio di favori e/o altri prodotti). Del maiale veniva utilizzato tutto, veniva "curato" (cured)fatto il bacon, i rashers, l'ham. Per cui durava tutto l'inverno. Quella era l'unica carne che avevano, dato che le galline venivano tenute care per via delle uova, e le mucche per via del latte.
I vegetali, manco a dirlo, erano costituiti da patate, carote, turnips, coltivati in genere dietro casa. Nient'altro.

Ad Halloween non si faceva treat or trick, mio marito mi racconta sempre che quella era una cosa americana venuta in seguito. La tradizione voleva che tutti stessero a casa, poichè la banshee vagava indisturbata ed era meglio starne alla larga, e per proteggere la casa era consigliabile mettere una luce alla finestra (da qui il Jack o'Lantern americano), che nel loro caso era una candela dentro una rapa, dato che le zucche sono nordamericane ed allora non c'erano.
La serata veniva passata attorno al caminetto con la nonna che raccontava storie di fantasmi e le mele candite (dalla madre).

Un abisso dal consumismo di adesso.

[Modificato da Corcaigh 02/11/2006 12.57]

Dingle66
00giovedì 2 novembre 2006 13:34
Re:

Scritto da: Corcaigh 02/11/2006 12.52
Tra i suoi racconti c'era, ad esempio, che ogni anno (ed UNA volta all'anno) il vicinato "ammazzava il maiale": questi animali appartenevano ad un farmer, ma il ricavato veniva distribuito in tutto il villaggio (pagato, ma a prezzi moooolto simbolici, e spesso con scambio di favori e/o altri prodotti). Del maiale veniva utilizzato tutto, veniva "curato" (cured)fatto il bacon, i rashers, l'ham. Per cui durava tutto l'inverno. Quella era l'unica carne che avevano, dato che le galline venivano tenute care per via delle uova, e le mucche per via del latte.
I vegetali, manco a dirlo, erano costituiti da patate, carote, turnips, coltivati in genere dietro casa. Nient'altro.

Ad Halloween non si faceva treat or trick, mio marito mi racconta sempre che quella era una cosa americana venuta in seguito. La tradizione voleva che tutti stessero a casa, poichè la banshee vagava indisturbata ed era meglio starne alla larga, e per proteggere la casa era consigliabile mettere una luce alla finestra (da qui il Jack o'Lantern americano), che nel loro caso era una candela dentro una rapa, dato che le zucche sono nordamericane ed allora non c'erano.
La serata veniva passata attorno al caminetto con la nonna che raccontava storie di fantasmi e le mele candite (dalla madre).

Un abisso dal consumismo di adesso.

[Modificato da Corcaigh 02/11/2006 12.57]




Questo fino succedeva anche nelle nostre campagne, almeno in emilia; a fine ottobre si ammazzava il maiale e lo si distribuiva tra gli abitanti della corte che avevano contribuito all'allevamento, utilizzando tutto, am proprio tutto il maiale dal prosciutto ai mitici insaccati tipo zampone [SM=x145491]

Per Halloween quella che ti ha raccontato è la vera tradizione celtica antica non quella cosa commerciale inventata ed esportata dagli americani millenni più tardi [SM=g27812]
La gente dei villagi si chiudeva in casa, si spegnevano tutti i fuochi tranne che uno alle finestre per tenere lontano gli spiriti e solo il primo novembre si riaccendevano con le braci portate dai druidi prese dal fuoco sacro; era l'inizio del nuovo anno...
Corcaigh
00sabato 4 novembre 2006 15:38
Intro da The Pope's children, di David McWilliams. L'avevo già postata in un altro topic:

Ireland has arrived.
We are richer than any of us imagined possible ten years ago. No Irish person has to emigrate, none of us need pay for education and even our universities are free. Unemployment is the lowest in our history. We have more choice than ever, the place is more tolerant and no-one can be legally discriminated against. We have more cash in our back pockets than almost anyone in Europe. We are better off than 99% of humanity. We are top of foreigners' lists as places to live. Unlike many of our rich neighbours, in survey after survey we claim to be very happy. We no longer need to beg from others in the EU; in fact, we are giving them cash. We are a success. We have money and time. We can now afford to kick back and take stock, reflex and relax a bit. [...] But instead of winding down and luxuriating in our new-found wealth, we are accelerating as never before. We have to be there first. have the best, the brightest, the newest and the biggest. We must also be the ones who are most fun, loudest, best craic and most off our head. We are borrowing, spending, shopping, shagging, eating, drinking and taking more drugs than any other nation. We are Europe's hedonists and the most decadent Irish generation ever.
nightolo
00sabato 4 novembre 2006 20:11
pensavo fosse il post di qualche texano che parlava dell'america
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