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The
Celtic Tiger ate my Choc-Mallows
Growing up in a North Dublin suburb,
I found myself in a close knit family circle. Most of my Grandmother's
siblings had settled within shouting distance of her house, which was
a stone's throw from my own. All of them lived on roads roughly parallel
to each other in the same estate, some of them on the same road. To reach
my paternal grandparents with the same stone I needed the assistance of
a small catapult, but it wasn't far.
Confirmations and Communions in my family were examples of rapid deployment
and incursion that NATO would be proud of. Every aunt, uncle, and cousin
to a factor of n was visited and enough money was gathered to pay for
the inevitable stomach pumping that was required after 90 gallons of fizzy
pop and a large chunk of the EC chocolate mallow biscuit mountain. And
all this was done within 8 hours. Three generations of family meeting
over tea and sandwiches, with small denomination bills being passed under
the table in envelopes.
Family crises such as funerals were amazing in that relatives would appear
out of no-where with tea, sympathy, sandwiches, fizzy pop and more chocolate
mallow bisuits. The feeling of not being alone in your grief was strangely
reassuring.
Christmas Day morning was, and still is, an inviolate tradition in my
mother's family. Everyone - regardless of where they are in the world
- flocks to my grandfather's for Christmas Day morning to exchange gifts,
seasons greetings, and juicy gossip. Every strand of the family web is
represented that morning, if only for a few minutes. Everyone tucks into
turkey, ham, smoked salmon, fizzy pop and chocolate mallow biscuits.
This closeness was, it seems, a deliberate plan where houses were chosen
because of their proximity. My mother's generation were the same. My mother's
brothers all live within ten minutes of my grandfather. My youngest uncle
lives just around the corner from the house he grew up in. This proximity
was something that I took for granted until I started into the property
market myself. I rang the bank and enquired about financing a purchase
near where I had grown up (in a less upmarket part of the same North Dublin
Suburb). The hysterical laughter from the other end of the line summarised
the bank's reaction. At that time I deeply regretted paying for my brothers
to have their stomachs pumped as well after my Communion and Confirmation.
My significant other and I took a day off work and decided to drive out
to find our dream home, or failing that, one that we could afford to buy.
Having grown up by the sea, I didn't want to move inland and given that
the significant other is from the (allegedly) sunny South East, we drove
south until the prices were in our budget. We hit Wicklow, and kept going.
We breezed through Arklow, and kept going. We stopped for lunch in Gorey,
looked around, and then kept going.
We now own a lovely 4 bedroom house in Kilmuckridge (take out your map,
find Gorey, go south from there along the coast...). The house as gone
up in value about 10% since we started the buying process, but I am nearly
80 miles from the close knit family network I grew up with. I am happy,
but with a tinge of sadness that I didn't make more time to drop in on
the family network while I still had easy access to it. I am happy, but
with a tinge of frustration that the decision to move to Kilmuckridge
was not based solely on personal preference, but was significantly influenced
by cost factors.
The choice of where I bought was effectively taken out of my hands by
economic factors. I could not afford to follow the family trend and buy
within the area of the family network. Furthermore, I haven't been able
to buy near where I work. My parents and grandparents bought to be near
family and work. The Celtic Tiger economy has put more and more people
of my generation in the position where living near work and family is
a nice dream.
As a child, I went to my maternal grandmother's after school to be minded.
My children will go to someone outside the family. As a child, trips to
my grandparents were a 25 minute walk. My children will have to be driven
over 2 hours to visit their paternal grandparents. I used to commute to
university. My children will have to be supported in over-priced rental
accomodation or in University residences.
We have developed a wonderfully materialistic economy-driven society.
But what is the non-economic cost of this development? What sort of social
support structure will my kids have? Have the infrastructure planners
looked 18 to 20 years into the future to ensure that the 3rd level accomodation
situation in Dublin will be able to support the increase in students coming
from Wexford or other counties?
In any event, I will be in my grandfather's at Christmas, regardless of
weather or acts of God. It's important.
by
Daragh O' Brien
5th September 2001
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