What <i> Not </i> to Do and Say in Northern Ireland : IRELAND: What an American Ought <i> Not </i> to Do and Say

As most locals will tell you, Northern Ireland is a safe, warm-hearted and fascinating place for Americans to visit.

But even the casual traveler should go armed with some working knowledge and a good sense of what not to do and say in this challenging, confusing land.

The background: Northern Ireland came into being in 1920. Protestant unionists loyal to Britain kept Ireland’s northeastern six counties within the United Kingdom, while the island’s other 26 counties (today the Republic of Ireland) won relative autonomy after a bloody guerrilla war.

Northern Ireland’s more than 900,000 Protestants and 600,000 Catholics disagree on fundamental issues, none of them ostensibly about religion. The nationalist minority could be considered the “natives,” to the extent they are largely Gaelic, Roman Catholic and anti-British. Most Northern Protestants (mostly Presbyterians and Anglicans belonging to the Church of Ireland) trace their ancestry to 17th-Century colonization from Scotland and England, yet after a dozen generations’ residence, most today consider themselves “British” first and “Irish” second, if at all.

Northern Ireland captured world headlines in 1969 when the Catholic minority’s civil rights campaign for housing, hiring and electoral reforms deteriorated into violence amid a Protestant backlash. The British Army was ordered onto the streets to quell the urban rioting, a development that ultimately triggered the reorganization of Catholic militancy in the form of the Provisional Irish Republican Army. About 470 people were killed in 1972, by far the worst year of bloodshed.

The real danger: The tourist board, which recently intensified its efforts to attract visitors, would like you to believe there’s no longer a problem. And for the tourist that’s largely true. This disputed corner of the United Kingdom can be a violent and threatening place for those who live here (23 people have been killed so far this year), but most bombs and bullets here have specific targets and none of them are tourists. Not one American tourist has ever been killed or injured in connection with what colloquially are known here as “the troubles.” In recent months, scores of businesses have been firebombed--but at night, when they are empty.

Sadly, the situation today resembles what a British minister once called an “acceptable level of violence”--one not substantively more threatening than what a visitor to Los Angeles might encounter.

The only danger that a tourist is likely to face is mastering life on the left side of Ulster’s accident-prone roadways.

Getting around: Northern Ireland is about 85 miles from top to bottom and 110 miles wide, an almost claustrophobically small place. Yet it embraces a wide range of physical beauty--the glacial-carved valleys of the Antrim Glens, the geologic wonders of the Giant’s Causeway, the caves and lakes of soggy Fermanagh (Fer-MAN-uh), and the undulating greenery of the Mourne Mountains in County Armagh (Ar-MAW).

Roads throughout Northern Ireland are superior to those of the Irish Republic, and gasoline is cheaper (though no bargain in either country: about $4 a gallon in the North, $5 in the South). Even so, it takes more time to get from A to B in Ulster than it would on Interstate 5. Obstacles on narrow, hedge-lined roads may include elderly bicyclists, tractors and more than a few blase cattle and dozing sheep. At night, these winding country roads get darker than a cow’s stomach and are no fun to negotiate.

When exploring the border lakelands of Fermanagh and Tyrone, be wary of barricaded roads. The British Army mans fixed checkpoints along the border separating North from South. Just display your American driver’s license and you’ll suffer nothing worse than the camouflaged trooper’s curious query, “How do y’like Northern Ireland?”

‘The crack’: Enjoying a good evening’s conversation with Northerners--in local parlance, “the crack”--is for many tourists the highlight of their trip. American tourists will be assumed ignorant of the situation in Northern Ireland, so they have considerable leeway in flaying hosts with questions.

But to avoid stepping on anyone’s toes, visitors who want to engage locals in even idle political conversation should first try to figure out which “side” they are on. This is, after all, a major survival sport of the land.

There are “Protestant” and “Catholic” names. Sean, Brendan, Mary, Siobhan and Seamus would probably be Catholics; Billy, Ian, Iris, Heather and Nigel most likely are Protestants.

The language that people choose can be a giveaway. What do they call their homeland? If they say “Ulster” (historically, the nine northern counties of Ireland), they are almost certainly Protestant. The same applies if they say “the province,” as both confer a false formality to what really is an ill-defined place. But if they say “the North,” “the six counties” or just “Ireland,” all bets are they’re Catholic.

Sticking to “Northern Ireland,” therefore, is the best way to maintain neutrality in unknown company. Remember that Ireland is first and foremost an island--a geographic entity but, because of partition, not a political one.

Visitors to Northern Ireland’s second-largest city can find another place-name way to tell someone’s stripes. Virtually all Catholics call it Derry, while many Protestants emphasize its legal name of London derry. The BBC switches diplomatically between the two in news reports, but when in the city itself (which is split by the River Foyle), a good rule of thumb is to use Derry on the predominantly Catholic west side and Londonderry on the mostly Protestant east.

Remember that locals are listening for hints of the outsider’s bias as well. Wherever American tourists go, many residents assume they are more sympathetic to the Catholic minority community or even to the IRA.

It is a common perception, especially among Northern Protestants, that the United States is an Irish Catholic nation--a notion abetted by the frequent vocal injections of romanticized pro-IRA opinion from the States. For that reason, Protestants may be more standoffish in the company of a “Yank.” American visitors can expect to be asked, perhaps only half-jokingly, whether they are members of Noraid, the Irish-American fund-raising outfit associated with the IRA.

The biggest key in getting along socially in Northern Ireland is to play the drink-buying game. Strangers will be quick to buy you a pint--or two, or four--in a pub, but it’s good form to return the favor. Come back from the bar with a few extra jars of Guinness or Harp and you’ll have a good evening’s crack, plus a likely invitation to stay in the spare bed. Ulster people rarely buy their own drinks, only each other’s.

The weather: Throughout the year, rain can rush upon the traveler with little warning--the price Northern Ireland pays for its verdant beauty.

In general, the likelihood of rainfall increases the farther west you go, as does the probability that you will be told various humorous hyperboles about the precipitation, such as, “Half the year, Lough Erne’s in Fermanagh; the other half, Fermanagh’s in Lough Erne.” The grim “rainier” season can begin in October and go into March.

Summer months offer less rain and the longest hours of daylight--until 10 p.m. at its peak --but also bring a season of heightened sectarian frictions to Northern Ireland.

In July, all of Protestant Ulster observes “the Twelfth,” the anniversary of when the Protestant William III defeated the Catholic James II at the Boyne river valley in 1690, thus ensuring that “Rome rule” would not prevail in the North. It is a time of triumphalism and tension, when the curbstones of loyalist neighborhoods get a fresh candy-cane coat of red, white and blue, and hundreds of thousands of bowler-hatted Protestant Orangemen march through the streets.

The following month, Catholics in republican districts “celebrate” with bonfires and block parties the August anniversaries of the British troop commitment and of internment day, when in 1971 the army haphazardly hauled about 500 nationalists out of their homes and imprisoned them without charge.

These are usually the most violent months in Ulster. It’s a particularly good time to abandon Belfast and Derry/Londonderry for the country. And leave any “Victory to the IRA” or Union Jack T-shirts you may own at home.