Walking these roads, I sometimes feel like a sell-out. We are safely removed from urban life, quiet and protected on this Friday morning. I had hoped we’d be braver, move our brood into the hood, where children still play football in the middle of busy roads, but here we are. And I can’t deny it: our work is both here and there, in the suburbs as much as in the city.
Two women are headed my way as Cocoa and I are on the return trip home. They are Muslim, I assume, wearing the colourful headscarves I’ve grown accustomed to. Muslim immigrants, from North Africa and the Middle East, have come here. Eastern Europeans, Nigerian Christians, Indians and Asians, too. We have all come here, painting a different landscape. Ireland is so different than it once was.