Some people might call my approach to my semester abroad in Dublin as “blind faith.”
As the weeks led up to my departure, I found myself answering all of the typical questions.
When are you leaving? Where are you living? Who are you living with? What courses are you taking?
I only had an answer to one. My flight was Friday, September 2nd. To the rest of the questions, I shrugged and replied “I don’t know.”
People were incredulous. “How do you not know? Aren’t you worried?”
At the time, I had not a care in the world about getting here. Leaving did not even feel real to me yet. All that really worried me was how I was going to fit four months of clothes into two suitcases. I operated how I typically would, I avoided. Everything. I avoided packing and saying goodbye. I avoided addressing the reality of what it would feel like to be in a foreign country and not have a single person with me that I knew. It felt strange to leave but I shrugged it off and jumped right in.
Blind faith.
Fast forward six days. This is how long I’ve been in Dublin on my own. How is it? Well, there have been good and bad days. I’ve been battling with myself trying to get my head completely in Dublin, instead of five hours behind in New England. Luckily, I have found the best way to combat homesickness is to get out of the confines of my sparse apartment and walk. Just keep going until I feel the sunshine (or most likely the rain) on my face. Discover my own spaces in a beautiful, busy city that I am fortunate enough to call home for a few months. When I get back to life in the US, I will be homesick for Ireland. No more absolute freedom, no more being constantly out of my comfort zone, and no more getting lost on public transportation. Well, maybe that last one isn’t such a bad thing.
My second day here I was roaming around Dublin by myself after orientation. I walked along the streets of places I recognized. Eventually, I got bored of my “familiar” surroundings and made turns onto streets that I was unsure about. I found myself very, very lost. I decided I needed to hop on the bus and immediately go home to the safety of my uncomfortable bed. I finally figured out which bus to take back and when I got on, I said “South Circular Road, please.” The driver, an old Irish man, informed me that I wanted to go on the same bus but in the opposite direction. I’m sure I looked like a mess – a little hungover and probably seemed like I was about to burst into tears. He looked alarmed. I mumbled a small “thank you,” quickly got off the bus, and walked up the road. After almost getting run down by a biker, I turned onto a different road and saw a grand building that read ‘Hugh Lane Gallery.’ Wanting to be inside a peaceful, quiet place, I walked inside sad and curious. As I wandered through the rooms, I found myself encaptured by the art. Everything was so beautiful. My sadness immediately started to dissipate. I had stumbled my way into something amazing. Something I hadn’t even been looking for.
When I get back in December, everything will be the same and everything will be different. When I left, I had too much confidence in my ability to flee the country with no repercussions. Now, I am constantly lost. Constantly trying to figure out the appliances in my apartment, so I can finally take a warm shower. Constantly thinking about home (which I am desperately trying to stop). Constantly going out and putting myself out there. Constantly struggling to understand French.
French?? But I'm in Ireland? My roommate, Kate from North Carolina, and I live with two girls from Paris, France. I truly lucked out with great roommates. Friendly, kind, and always willing to grab a beer. What more could I ask for? I have been going out with my roommates and their friends (also French) a lot. Everyone is so outgoing and bubbly. But you know what they say about the last one to laugh… they never got the joke. When everyone erupts in laughter around me, I look around desperately longing to understand. But the more time I spend time with them, the easier it gets to communicate even when the right words cannot be found.
I am a fish out of water but I am a happy one.