
All my life I had problems trying to understand why I love Ireland so much. I live in a far distant country, with a very different culture, and had no contact with Irish people for most of my life. A few of my long-gone ancestors were English and Scottish, and even American, but as far as I know, no Irish gene has ever crossed my DNA.
How could I explain, for instance, my childhood sympathy for the IRA? The ETA was also constantly on the news, but I never really cared much about them, while the IRA always seemed to mesmerize me for no apparent reason.
Then I started reading Corto Maltese, and guess what: the Ireland book was my favorite of them all.
Things got even worse when I found out that The Lord of the Rings had places with names like Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul. I live in a place called Minas Gerais. Should I be worried about ork attacks?
I had a small clue once, when a friend of my brother was telling us about an article he had read. According to what he said, our state and region were colonized by Portuguese people coming from a place called Minho, back in the old continent. Turns out that Minho was colonized by Celts, after the Roman Empire left the Iberian peninsula.
That could explain, for example, why the people of our state are famous all around the country for binge liquor drinking, or by the hoppity dances. Minas Gerais traditional dances, like catira, are remarkably similar to Irish hop dancing.
Maybe I’m just imagining all that, and my obsession with Ireland comes from the cover of Led Zeppelin’s “Houses of the Holy”. The images of the Giant’s Causeway and Dunluce castle have always grasped me by the throat and by the heart for no particular reason. I simply feel right inside my guts that I have to go to these places before I die, and I don’t care why.
All I know is this: Belo Horizonte, the city where I live, capital city of Minas Gerais, has the largest Saint Patrick’s Day party in the country, and every year people come from all around the country to take part of it. Go figure.

I can completely empathize with your love of Ireland. I’m 75% Mexican (only a teeny bit of Irish blood) and was raised speaking Spanish in the home, and didn’t meet any non-Mexican members of my family until I was in my 20s. Still, the culture has always felt very comfortable to me. Interesting, no? I wonder how much genetics plays a part…