by Charlotte Levins (Temple University)
THE FLEADH CHEOIL at Coalisland disappointed me this past Saturday. I went with such high expectations—that it would be like the Irish version of South Street but with music and dance. However, my appetite for fun and music was most likely not fulfilled because I left at 7:15pm and found out too late that nothing began until eleven at night. Nevertheless, I did get to see a bit of the children playing their instruments. I was surprised to see so many young people eager to share their talents with people of all ages. I know that in my hometown, I would not be considered “cool” if I played the accordion. But there, it looked like most of the children just walked off the football field and picked up their instruments. Judging from the expressions on the children and their parents, everyone was excited to be there and calm when the time came to stand before the judges.
Just as quickly as I became bored with the children shouting and banging drums, it took half as long for my spirits to rise again. Nora, Brigid, Lauren, and I went strolling about the center of town, searching for potential pictures to use for our scavenger hunt. We peaked down an alley full of smashed glass, nails, rotten wood, and trashcans, and saw three girls at the end of the tunnel giggling as they jumped rope. “Do you think their parents would mind if we played with them for a little bit and took their picture?” we thought to ourselves. Fortunately we worked up the courage and asked if we could play.
Before long, Megan was jumping around shrieking, “Watch me, watch me!” Her blond hair was in a braid but the loose hair was wind blown and tangled. She proudly announced that she wounded her elbow some days before. Nora laughed and whispered that Megan could have been her twin. Megan’s friend, Aine, had red hair and was dressed in black shorts and a white t-shirt, which made her fancy ballet flats stand out when she stomped around on the cement. Brigid remarked separately that she was a lot like Aine not too long ago.
I couldn’t help but notice how similar I was to Chloe. At first she was quite shy, but after I remarked on her exemplary jumping skills, she would not stop hugging me. She reminded me of how I used to treat the older girls when I was eight. I would hide from them until they gave me attention and then I would follow them everywhere. Chloe also had long, straight hair that fell down her back. My hair was that long for almost ten years. She also wore a white headband, which was my favorite accessory during my youth (plus, I always cut my bangs crooked, so I would hide them under the headband).
It was difficult for Nora, Brigid, and I to say goodbye to the girls. Aine’s mother said that we made their day, and I can honestly say that they made mine as well. The hour that we spent with Megan, Aine, and Chloe was more precious than any Irish-version-of-South-Street could ever be.
Fleadh Cheoil
