The 47th Harry Brittain Fellowship
6 June to 14 July
When it gets going, it gets hot
By Julie Middleton (New Zealand)
Growing up in New Zealand in the 1970s, I was aware of Northern Ireland's
"Troubles", the long-running and often-violent scrap for supremacy between
pro-Londoners and nationalists seeking greater autonomy.
But nothing can really prepare you for the scenery - and your own dismay -
on a walk in north Belfast with social worker Paul Collins, the apolitical
manager of a social work centre wedged between warring "loyalists"(mainly of
Protestant religious background) and "republicans" (mostly Catholic).
Walls at least 10m high - steel, mesh, bricks - separate the terraced houses
of Duncairn Street's Catholics from the Protestant pocket nearby; these
so-called "peace walls", criss-cross Belfast's flashpoint suburbs.
These "interfaces" are the crossroads of two communities impoverished in
many of the same ways: in health, in education, in jobs, in experience of
the world.
The sides assert their identities with large murals on the end walls of
terraced houses and numerous flags; in Tiger's Bay, a short walk from
Collins' Cornerhouse, large Union Jack flags fly from nearly every house.
Even the kerbstones are painted red, white and blue.
Wall graphics in Belfast |
In both areas, many houses and shops are boarded up or have been gutted by
fire. Police security cameras perch on tall columns. There is little on the
footpaths beyond litter: the usual, plus the odd broken brick or hunk of
wood.
Collins believes that the local Alexandra Park is the only segregated
outdoor area in Europe. Two tall, solid fences standing several metres apart
create a no-man's land; this is known, locally, as the "peace strip".
"Murder mile" is the colloquial name for the area, says Collins; "more
people have died in this square mile over the last 35 years than anywhere
else in Northern Ireland. When it gets going, it gets hot."
