Good Fences

From time to time I am reminded of how fortunate I am to live where I live – today was no exception. 

The weather was less than spectacular for our day out in Belfast – grey and threatening – but we headed out on a bus tour  to see the city.  Part of the tour took us past the part of the city that is demarcated by something called a “Peace Wall” – which ultimately separates a Catholic neighbourhood from a Protestant one.  Calling it a Peace Wall seems to be a bit of an euphemism since it is a very tall fence with razor wire on top, it spanned the length of several city blocks (each street has a large gate that can be closed in times of “disruptions”) seems anything but peaceful.

“The Troubles” – another interesting Irish euphemism – is the name given to the animosity and violence that used to take place between the Catholics and Protestants in Belfast (and other parts of Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland).  The “Peace Wall(s)” were built to help decrease the chance of violence between the Catholics and Protestants by keeping the two groups separate.

“These new buildings were built in the ‘70s after several bombs went off leveling the buildings that had been there,” the tour guide was saying.  Belfast is a city shaped by bombs and violence.

This stark reality is shockingly obvious by the tall metal fences capped by sharp spikes and abandoned fields of rubble and the skeletons of buildings traced in city blocks.

Ten years or so beyond the “Troubles”, Belfast is a city slowly finding it’s balance; as evidenced by  The Troubles Tourism and the current building site of a Titanic themed hotel near the site where the Titanic was built. 

Beyond  the razor wire there is a ray of hope.