{"id":3177,"date":"2017-03-14T13:59:56","date_gmt":"2017-03-14T20:59:56","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.dianastevan.com\/?p=3177"},"modified":"2017-03-15T06:54:46","modified_gmt":"2017-03-15T13:54:46","slug":"musings-about-the-irish","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.dianastevan.com\/uk\/2017\/life\/musings-about-the-irish\/","title":{"rendered":"Musings About The Irish"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"As St. Patrick\u2019s Day comes around again, I think about the Irish and their beautiful country. Half my debut novel, A Cry From The Deep<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/em>, is set in Ireland, from Galway to Donegal to be specific.<\/p>\n

Years back, my husband and I spent a month touring around the country, starting in Dublin and ending in Port Stewart and Belfast, where I had first cousins I\u2019d never met.<\/p>\n

My Irish Relatives<\/h3>\n

My dad\u2019s youngest brother, John Klewchuk, had joined the Canadian air force in WWII. He was stationed in Northern Ireland, where he met an Irish lass he couldn\u2019t leave behind. He married her and had three boys, whom now have children of their own. It was lovely meeting them. They have all the charm and humour you associate with the Irish, even with their Ukrainian blood (their father\u2019s side).<\/p>\n

And Irishman With A Ukrainian Name<\/h3>\n

One thing that always puzzled me was how my Uncle John had managed to keep his Ukrainian surname in Ireland without facing any discrimination. His older brothers, George and Bill, who also fought in WWII, had changed their name to Kendall while in the army. In the 1940s, there was still a lot of prejudice against Slavic people and they had felt the sting of that in their youth. Being bright and ambitious, they quickly found they’d have to change their name if they wanted to rise in the ranks. And so they did.<\/p>\n

My father, on the other hand, being the eldest and already a family man, did not get a chance to serve, although he would’ve liked the opportunity. He kept the Ukrainian surname, Klewchuk, which my dad said meant blacksmith in the old country. But since “klewch” means key in Ukrainian, I’m still wondering if he got that wrong. Maybe my family came from those who were locksmiths.<\/p>\n

When I asked my eldest Irish cousin, Ronnie, how his father had managed to keep a name like Klewchuk in Northern Ireland without being taunted, he said, \u201cWhenever anyone asked my father about his name, he told them it was Canadian.\u201d I got a good chuckle out of that one.<\/p>\n

Reminds me of a Shakespeare line, \u201cA rose by any other name would smell as sweet.\u201d<\/p>\n

Below are my wonderful cousins entertaining Robert and I during our visit.<\/p>\n