Forget builders and barmen. The Irish in New York these days build robots and write columns. As for the bars, they own them. Aisling Ryan meets a few.
Mark Gibson, 31, bar owner
"You can get close to opening a bar pretty easily in New York, but in order to actually get the deal through and to get the bar up and running, you have to push a lot of people and not take no for an answer," says Mark Gibson, who grew up in Malahide, in Dublin, and has just celebrated the second anniversary of the very popular Bua, a bar on St Mark's Place in the East Village, which he opened within months of his arrival.
Gibson studied business at Dublin City University before becoming a web designer. He grew disillusioned when the young web company he worked for in Dublin was taken over. "It was like working for 'the man'. You never got to see any results." So after six months in Honduras with Save the Children, Gibson followed his girlfriend to New York.
"When I first came over I didn't really like it. I don't really like change too much - typical Irish male. Six months in, I got to know the city better, and I wouldn't leave it now. I just love it."
Previously home to Sin-é, where the singer Jeff Buckley gigged regularly, the venue was a Maori-themed bar when Gibson viewed the venue for the first time, in 2004. "Everything was orange and cheesy. For Irish guys that's not a good colour. But at the same time it just had a good feeling. We stripped off every bit of plaster. It took us a week from when we took over the space to when we opened." Adamant that this is not an Irish-themed bar - it fuses traditional exposed brick with contemporary touches - Gibson says: "I'm very proud that it's Irish-owned, and everyone behind the bar is generally Irish [including his brother Simon, who is the manager], but we get a lot of local people coming in, which makes me happy. They come not because it's an Irish bar but because it's a bar they like to hang out in."
Despite the bar's success, certain challenges presented themselves along the way. "Dealing with people like insurance brokers, lawyers, accountants, that's something I'm really getting used to. With my bank manager in Ireland, I can go in and talk to her, and I know what she tells me is going to be at least true or honest, but here it's very hard to find people like that. You nearly need to know as much as they do, because they aren't going to do things for you."
Living in Union Square, in the heart of Manhattan, Gibson likes the diversity of his neighbours. As if to prove the point, one of his locals waves through the door. "That's Mario. He lives upstairs. By day he is mild-mannered Mario, but by night he is Maria Guadalupe. He comes down in a full-length ball gown and won't answer to anything else."
Elaine Ní Bhraonáin, 26, lecturer in Irish and columnist
"I wanted to come to New York and teach Irish. Everyone thought I was crazy. But I got a visa no bother at all," says Elaine Ní Bhraonáin, from Rathfarnham, in Dublin. Armed with a master's degree in Irish and folklore from University College Dublin, Ní Bhraonáin arrived in New York three years ago. She now lectures at the City University of New York, as well as teaching at the Irish Arts Center and writing a bilingual column in the Irish Echo newspaper.
A past pupil of Coláiste Íosagáin in Dublin, Ní Bhraonáin has been surprised at the number of students who have no prior connection to Ireland. "If you are a doctor or a vet here, for example, you have to take a foreign language. They don't realise the whole baggage that goes with the language at home. They just see a list and say, 'Let's take Irish.' Although I've had people come into class who thought I was going to teach them how to say 'grand' and 'brilliant', you know . . . the brogue."
Her age has bemused some, who have a preconception of what an Irish teacher should look like. "People think I might not know my stuff. They'd prefer if I was a man and I had my leather arm patches. It's grand with the kids, because they think you're so old, but to some people it's an issue."
Ironically, New York has given Ní Bhraonáin an opportunity to work with the Irish language that she may not have found at home. "It was easier for me over here. If I went for a job [ in Ireland] I might not get it because I'm not from a Gaeltacht. Whereas over here I have my qualifications, I've been speaking Irish since I was four, I've been able to read and write Irish before English, so it doesn't make a difference."
Ní Bhraonáin's column, An Tiogar Ceilteach (The Celtic Tigress), which documents the adventures of a single girl in Manhattan, has raised some eyebrows.
"They wanted to show that the Irish language is modern and sexy, that it wasn't all bean-an-tí stuff. I have written about everything, from bikini waxing to going home for Christmas. We got one complaint. She said the Irish language should be kept for writing about the history of the country and the Famine times, not bikini-waxing."
Peter Bennett, 32, investment banker
"It's great to be able to work in a very fast-paced, top-end environment," says Peter Bennett of his investment banking job at a top Wall Street firm. Having joined the mergers-and-acquisitions department of the London office six years ago, Bennett was transferred to New York in 2004. He has wholeheartedly embraced the challenge of Manhattan work life. "There really is no average day. That is both a great thing about the job and a bad thing. Great in the sense that you never know what is coming your way and you have to react to things as they come. But you are expected to be on call 24/7 and put in very long days, and you can't plan life outside of work very well."
The hard work allows for quite a lifestyle in Manhattan, however. Bennett lives near Fifth Avenue on the 19th floor of a luxury building, "with a doorman, gym, roof deck, concierge service: it is basically like living in a hotel, and, yes, with hotel rates also. Location-wise, it's great. You can walk out of your front door and you are right near Central Park, where you can run, cycle or just walk around".
When he is not putting in all-nighters at the office, Bennett does not like to stay in one place for too long. "New York has a vast amount of things to do when you have time off. The list of restaurants, bars and clubs is endless. You rarely go to the same place twice, and so every weekend brings with it a whole new set of things to do, from the very high end of the spectrum to the other end. You could go and see one of the world's biggest bands in Madison Square Garden one day, and then see some local band in the Lower East Side."
Unfazed by his demanding job, New York is the right choice of home for Bennett, for the moment at least. "I wouldn't trade it for anything else right now," he says. Especially not since discovering a favourite new Manhattan pastime: "Drinking ginger martinis in the Gansevoort hotel."
Aisling Reidy, 34, human rights lawyer
"Imagine coming to New York to discover a work-life balance," laughs Aisling Reidy, former director of the Irish Council for Civil Liberties, who has lived in the city for just six months. Now senior legal adviser to Human Rights Watch, an international rights organisation, she is amazed she has more free time than ever.
"I don't have to work long hours or weekends in the same way that I've done for pretty much every other job. Most people in the not-for-profit sector are there because they have a commitment to the cause, so people will go out of their way to get things done, but it has been fabulous to be able to have a job which I enjoy, is always challenging and yet does not take up 90 hours a week."
Originally from Howth, in Co Dublin, Reidy goes to the four corners of the globe, and deep into the issues of the day, for her work. "The way the organisation is structured, there are divisions working on geographical areas - Asia, Middle East, Africa, Americas, Central Asia etc - and then there are some thematic ones, whether it's arms, children's rights or women's rights. My job is basically to work with all of them to provide input on legal standards and policy issues."
Working for a large organisation is a major change for Reidy. "Instead of doing six jobs I've got one job, which is about using my expertise. The organisation has a lot of really excellent people with fascinating backgrounds. To be part of a team where everybody really knows their stuff is great." With such a broad mandate, the initial challenge was to quickly come up to speed on a variety of international issues. "Just in one day you can spend time working on the Middle East or Darfur, and turn to gay rights in Central Asia and then be asked to do something on forced evictions in Indonesia."
She envisages that her role will soon see her visiting Europe frequently. "The United Nations has just agreed to start drafting a protocol to the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, to basically have an adjudicative system so that people will be able to complain that they've had violations of their rights. We all agree that economic and social rights are equal to civil liberties, but in the West that's not really how it is practised. I'm going to start taking the lead for Human Rights Watch. I don't know how long it's going to take going back and forth, a lot of meetings in Geneva."
In her spare time Reidy likes to catch some outdoor entertainment in her Upper West Side neighbourhood. "Living one block away from Central Park is just fantastic. There's a big buzz during the summer. You just sort of wander in and find out what free concert is going on somewhere. My favourite thing is the roller disco. They are complete performers, total show-offs."
Austin Duffy, 31, oncologist
"Memorial is at the cutting edge of clinical research," says Dr Austin Duffy of his New York workplace, Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center, where he has recently commenced an advanced fellowship in medical oncology. "People come here from all over the world; not just doctors who come here to train, but patients as well. It's a fantastic place."
A medical graduate of Trinity College Dublin, Duffy became interested in oncology during a hospital placement in New Zealand, which prompted him to complete four years of specialist training in Ireland when he returned. Having completed that program in Dublin and Cork earlier this year, he then turned his attention to Memorial, which he says enjoys a huge reputation worldwide. "I'm working with early-stage clinical trials in patients with cancer. I'm involved in all aspects of it, from writing protocols and designing the trials to looking after the patients that are on them. I'm dealing with a lot of early-stage research and using investigational drugs which have never been used before, trying to find the safest and the best way to give them to patients and determining whether they are effective. It's very interesting from a scientific point of view, but also on a human level."
Rising early to make 7am lectures as part of the fellowship's educational programme, Duffy has a busy work schedule. "Then, typically, I would have a clinic where I would be seeing patients. There would also be research meetings with my mentor, who is actually Irish, and multidisciplinary meetings, where cases are discussed and many experts are in attendance across many disciplines." Because Memorial is a stand-alone cancer centre, Duffy says, it allows for a greater degree of subspecialisation. "The calibre of the people here and the quality of academic debate are brilliant. There are doctors who see only one specific small area and so develop considerable expertise in that area."
Originally from Dundalk, Co Louth, Duffy has always wanted to live in New York. In just two months he has made himself at home, even playing saxophone in a jazz group. "We meet every week down in the West Village. It's a good way of getting to know people who are not immediately connected with work. I've also got a saxophone teacher down the East Village who used to know John Coltrane. At least he tells me he did."
Sue Williams, 24, robot builder
"Don't mention Transformers around here. It's a sore point," says Sue Williams, who has spent just nine months in New York and has already helped to build a 20m (60ft) robot for a European car manufacturer. From Virginia in Co Cavan, Williams is a graduate of the National College of Art and Design who works with Amorphic Robot Works, in Brooklyn's bohemian Red Hook. Working in a former Norwegian seamen's church, Williams has been on a steep learning curve as project manager.
"When people ask about the project I realise I've really been thrown in at the deep end. It's a really amazing experience, incredibly challenging and frightening at times."
Williams met Chico MacMurtrie, the director of the organisation, at a Save the Robots festival in Dublin in 2005. He enlisted her to help build a mechanical mural for the Fatima Mansions Project, then invited her to the flagship workshop in New York.
A typical workday for Williams includes a whirlwind of meetings, schedules and phone calls, against the shriek of welding machines, engineers and programmers piecing together the robot's intricate frame. "I don't think Amorphic Robot Works represents the American work culture. It's a different world to anywhere I've ever been in my life and, I think, that any American has witnessed. It's a hub of creativity."
Known as "Boots" in the area - Williams never takes off her trademark steel-capped footwear - she loves living in Red Hook. "It's an affordable place for people to live. There are a lot of artists around here, a lot of writers. Everyone's really friendly. It's that kind of ridiculous community where you get together sometimes on a Sunday and 15 people will go on a little trip to Coney Island."
Williams feels she would be unable to get experience on this scale in Ireland. "It's really hard to get that exposure back home. It's hard to weed out people from so many diverse backgrounds - engineers, technicians, anybody who's into robotics. We have guys down the road here who've got a flying car in their workshop. You don't get that down the road in Dublin."