Gypsies in Ireland

View en route to class. From Google Street View.

Shortly after my arrival in Ireland, I was getting a brief tour of campus from the program coordinator. University of Limerick is a bucolic campus, on the edge of the edge of Limerick. While crossing the bridge that we walk on every day from dorms to campus, I admired the scenery and asked if it were possible to to swim or kayak in the shallow River Shannon beneath us. The coordinator replied that people occasionally swim or kayak, but that a week or two prior, a drowning had occurred. He further explained that a group of gypsies--or Irish Travelers, to be anthropologically correct--had been in the area, and though details were fuzzy, a young boy had been riding his horse into the water as part of a celebration when suddenly the horse threw him. Perhaps due to an undercurrent or lack of swimming skills, the boy drowned; a tragedy to be sure. I would later hear mention of the Irish Travelers here or there, but it wasn't until yesterday that I encountered them.

About 20 minutes east of Limerick, on my way back from Wexford, I was approaching the interstate (?) from a two-lane highway. Generally the roads are really narrow here (probably the progeny of a wagon or handcart road) and the shoulders are negligible, leading to many side-swipe close calls. In this particular area, there was about a 15 foot shoulder off to the left, and I noticed wisps from a few spent campfires rising above the ground before I saw several camper trailers. I had about passed the camp before the horses gave it away: this was a group of itinerant Irish Travelers! I drove on, about a quarter mile to the roundabout to join the interstate before I slowed, considering my options. On one hand, I didn't want to drive back by to stare at these people, thus objectifying them. But on the other, this was a chance to observe a group with history and practices distinct from my own. Rather than taking the first exit on the roundabout to enter the freeway, I looped around and got my camera out. Trying to balance respect with innocent curiosity, I drove by at normal speed, with the camera just peeking over my window.

As far as I could tell, the camp consisted of four campers. A few horses were tied up, with two small horse trailers nearby. There were two cars in the lot, but considering that the campers and trailers were drawn by trailer hitch, I assumed that the group owned more cars or trucks that were currently elsewhere.

At the camp, I only saw nine or so people: two girls outside one camper, washing their hair in a basin; a mother and two young daughters at another camper; and a woman with three young kids having a snack outside. Presumably the men were out working.

That sage source Wikipedia describes the Irish Travelers as an Irish minority (not to be confused with the Romani people, I believe where the "gypsy" term originates) that separated from the other Irish settlers about 1000 years ago (ascertained by DNA testing). Around 25,000 live in Ireland but there are populations elsewhere, including in Georgia, Ohio, Mississippi, and Texas. These American Travelers likely emigrated during the--you guessed it--Great Famine (1845-1855). My friend's brother has described interactions with the Georgia Travelers, unfortunately not usually favorable to their reputation. Among other demonyms, the group refers to themselves as Lucht Siúil, Irish for "Walking People."

It was so interesting to briefly observe (though sadly not interact with) these folks, who are notoriously secretive and exclusive. I've been to Amish Country in the US, but they separate themselves from the world both culturally and by proximity. In contrast, the Travelers have distinct culture and practices, but they live among the general population; like mixed oil and water, they may exist alongside "us", but they do not solubilize.

However, this phenomenon is not exclusive to this group. While their boundaries of interaction with non-Travelers are more impassable and enforced, it is worthwhile to observe that people self-group based on religion, race, education, etc. (A fun thought experiment is to imagine if your bus or airplane or elevator got stranded, into what communities would the people separate?) I remember that when I moved to Atlanta, I saw so many different communities, and that I wished I could be a fly on walls to observe without perturbing (people of one group will present differently if they are knowingly observed by another group--this was one of my stressors living in China). We all identify as members of various groups, and until we find what grouping we share in common with an encountered stranger, we keep up walls, albeit cordially.

It saddens me, really, that we have these boundaries, but I understand that their existence arises from a need for trust and security. I guess that the least I can do, then, is to make more of an effort to interface with those of other group and encourage interaction. In the meantime however, I will be content with slipping by groups to which I don't belong--whether on the streets of Atlanta or streets of Ireland--seeking greater understanding and appreciation of "the other."