Slán Go Fóill

Dear Ireland,

I can't believe we've come to this day already. It feels like just yesterday that we were getting acquainted in the windy cold of January. I walked around everywhere with my Moleskine city notebook (and its compact little maps) close at hand. I didn't know basic things like what a 2 euro coin looked like or where the Pearse Street train station was or how to properly jaywalk when the cars are all on the wrong side.

I didn't have any friends here yet, and I hadn't yet fallen in love with your rolling countryside, which--even in the dead of winter--makes my heart skip a beat. But I knew we were headed somewhere special when you urged me along during tough times with a gorgeous sunset here or a kind smile there. You were everything I expected you to be...and more. Maddening, welcoming, lovable and livable. From long pints to long nights, you made every moment count.

I'll miss your cider, your chippers, your tea, your fizzy jelly snakes and your Thai sweet chili flavoured crisps. I'll miss your love of music and super-fun accent. But most of all, I'll miss all the people you've allowed me to meet here...

But it's like they all keep telling me, with a knowing glance in their eyes.

"You'll be back."

I know.

All my love.



(title: Goodbye for now.)

Last Day.

Shortly after publishing the previous post...

Went into town to watch A run the mini-marathon. Met up with her boyfriend Andy, who took a train down from the North just in time, and we spent a good hour waiting for her to come round the bend, but it was so fun when she finally did and we got to cheer...and then try to keep up on the sidewalk to catch her when she passed the finish line (just a little further down from our spot). But we got caught in sidewalk traffic. And so ended our own mini-mini-marathon careers.

After we got back home, I spent most of the day playing with her/the bf/the siblings...games in the living room, games on the trampoline in the backyard (my favorite place...ever?). Lots of laughing involved. We also had a nice family dinner, before which everyone sang grace. SANG it. We used to do that in my house, only in Korean, and not in several-part harmony. This family might be the most musical ones I've ever met (it helps that they outnumber most families I know, too, what with the seven children in all). All of them attend(ed) school on music scholarships. Their father is a music teacher. The oldest sister is a choir director. Ash teaches singing, too. Everyone plays several instruments, and there are, lying around the house, guitars, drums, viola, violin, electric violin, cello, french horn, harp, piano, ukulele...and things I'm probably forgetting. Ash's 10 year old brother wrote an incredibly GOOD song on the guitar, and he played it for a few of us after dinner.

I think our families would get along.

Tuesday: Had an amazing piece of Mrs. D's homemade bread with butter and honey for breakfast. This is a detail that would normally be too mundane to include here, except the bread was absolutely DIVINE. I could live on that stuff. Visited Killiney Beach with A, Andy, and her friend, whom we picked up along the way (she lives in Dalkey...along with my best friend Bono). We mostly just sat on the hot, rocky beach for a bit. Came back...picked up some groceries for a barbecue. While A went to go teach for an hour, Andy and I got dinner prepped, with the littlest sib's help. And then we had an amazing meal in the backyard, with intermittent trampoline-playing in between. (I am going to miss that trampoline...)

And now I'm weighing my suitcases again.

Over so soon?

Keeping the Clouds Away

I know, I know. Another post about the astonishingly wonderful weather. I'll stop.

Sunday, though: a grand day. Lovely all around. Again.

Church in the morning--small Church of Ireland parish where A's dad plays organ. With the sun out and it being Pentecost Sunday and all, it was a pretty magical church day. "Magical" is obviously not quite the right word, even though it is my go-to adjective. But we all wore a bit of red, and the church was a small, beautiful one with friendly parishioners and an even friendlier rector (I met him walking in, and then he totally called me out during the announcements, along with another family of visitors, to ask me questions about myself). It helped that there was sunlight streaming in through the windows and that I was cozily nestled between A and her younger siblings, but the sermon (on the fruits of the Spirit) was solid, the liturgy just right, and the hymns nice. We stood outside for a brief chat with some hilarious older ladies on the way to tea/coffee afterwards, and I soaked up the sun. Went into the fellowship hall area, drank tea, and played with some adorable kids.

Afternoon: lazed around a bit. We ended up throwing together a late lunch or early dinner, not sure which, of roasted vegetable wraps. Soooo yummy. Then headed out to People's Park at Dun Laoghaire to check out the farmers' market and watch movies on the green. It was packed full of families and groups of young people, and they were showing...wait for it...HSM3!! Ash had never seen it before but knew all the songs because she teaches singing to kids. So we totally sang along. And clapped after every number (others joined in). And watched the little kids going mad as they danced along. Haha.

Also picked up some falafel (which we had today for lunch) and ate ice cream. A 99. With Cadbury Flake. Love Flake. Walked a bit and then ended up returning to the park to meet up with some of her friends and catch the beginning of Dark Knight. Shared a candy floss (aka cotton candy). Drove home, and had an interesting conversation comparing notes about YWAM; she hasn't done it, but her boyfriend did a DTS, and so did a bunch of the friends we'd just hung out with. We are very much on the same page about it, which was nice, because sometimes I feel a bit alone in my opinions. Funny, though, because we had the exact same observations about it as outsiders, which made those observations feel a bit more reasonable.

Came home, got a million hours of sleep.

These past few days have been totally different from the rest of my time here because...

-no school
-living in a house, with parents and children and everything
-insanely summery weather
-car.

I'd sort of forgotten what it was like to sit in a car until this week. Luas, yes. Bus, yes. Train, yes. Walking, yes. Car?? No. Sitting in the passenger seat (but driver's seat position) with the windows down and a little music blasting, the mountains ahead and the sunset behind. What a feeling.

Sorry for the rambling-ness of this post. I am at this point mostly writing for my own memory's sake. But this has, so far, been such an amazing last few days in this country. Just 1.5 more. (It's halfway through Monday already...)

Day 3 Of Utter Freedom

Ahh I had such a lovely day. Woke up in a leisurely fashion, got dressed and hung out on the trampoline with A and her 12-year-old sister. My legs felt like they were roasting in my jeans, so I dug out my one pair of shorts that have never seen the light of day till now. I brought them in case I went somewhere hot on break or something. I never dreamed they would be useful in Ireland...and yet, here they are.

Then I went off to wander the Trinity campus, where I'd heard rumour of a picnic get-together somewhere on the green, although I thought they'd be long gone by the time I got there. But they weren't! Some friends, some acquaintances. Lovely weather. I joined them for a game of Uno, which I completely and utterly lost, as in last place out of like...seven...and then as everyone trickled away and it was just down to a couple of us, I kicked around a deflated Gaelic football, distributed some Haribo Gold Bears, and had a long, meandering chat with my bud Geoff until the sun moved away from our spot and we were completely in the shade. But we ended up just moving to the rugby pitch to continue our conversation there.

I embarked on an unexpected adventure when a friend of his joined us after her bag was stolen from her in Bewley's Cafe on Grafton St, a place that I've never considered the slightest bit unsafe. Nuts, I have to stop feeling cocooned in safety just because I'm in cozy Dublin. The Gardai called shortly after she'd explained the situation to us to tell her that someone had dropped off the bag, minus the valuable stuff, at a station, so we went way up the Northside to recover it. Then I ended up tagging along with them to a little dinner gathering at the house of some other acquaintances, where we sat outside in the cool of nightfall, balancing plates on our laps and batting at bugs. We went inside...I washed the dishes...we drank tea...had a bit of ice cream...listened to awful cheesy music on someone's cell phone. Then, because it was dark and late and I had no real idea of where I was because I'd been blindly following along, said cheesy music lover escorted me from the house to the Luas, and I made my way home.

This weather is making me all those memories of grey, cloudy days and endless drizzle fade into a hazy cloud in the back of my mind. I'm totally going to come home and think Ireland has the best weather ever. Ha!

Sunshine and Summertime

There's practically a heat wave in Dublin this weekend. I've actually broken a sweat walking around. I know, right?

But it feels like summer! I smell barbecue smoke everywhere I go, the skies are blue, and the girls are baring their legs. It's about time. (And it won't last for more than a coupla days.)

Anyway, yesterday morning my friend came to pick up my GINORMOUS suitcases in her car, and then I spent a few more hours cleaning the apartment. I cleaned so well, my mother would be shocked and amazed. I was shocked and amazed. Then I went into town to drop off my keys at my study abroad centre, pick up a package, and make a donation of clothes and books at a charity shop.

After that, I met up with some friends for lunch at Trinity, and we sat on the green for what ended up being hours, making fun of the way seagulls walk and going through the contents of my package. We had a big laugh flipping through the In Touch I received and they tasted Sour Patch Kids for the very first time. And loved them. Of course.

We finally got up to go, and on our way out we ran into some more friends. This conversation really occurred:

Boy 1: So what are you doing this summer, Stephanie?
Friend 1: She's working at Dairy Queen.
Me: (I smack the girl in the arm.) That's a lie. [She really wants me to work at a Dairy Queen to fulfill all her beliefs and expectations about America]
Boy 2: Have you just been slagging Steph all day about being American?
Friend 2: No! Not slagging, we're actually learning!
Friend 1: Yeah, did you know band camp really exists?

I finally made my way out of there and went home with my Luas buddy, one of the boys from that conversation (he lives close to me, so we always end up taking the Luas together). And then I said a round of goodbyes, which was sadness.

I'll say it again: it's crazy how fast this semester flew by, and crazier how much of a life I built here. I didn't imagine that by the end of my time here, I'd have friends saying "Ah, it's been too long" when I run into them and start humming the Chris Brown/Elmo duet "Signs," or pleading with me not to go home and joking about mass, awkward Skype dates with me. But I do. Sigh.

Anyway, so I came back to A's house, and then we went to her little sister's dance show in Dun Laoghaire.* Since the weather was so nice there were loads of boats on the water and people walking the promenade, and I decided for sure that if I ever come into a lot of money [*cough*marry rich*cough*], I'm going to get a summer home in Dun Laoghaire, or maybe Howth, but definitely on the coast--a short commute from Dublin and a short commute from the countryside. Perfection!

And then we stopped by at a chipper and got chips and milkshakes. Yum.

Today (Fri), I went into town, ran some errands, and wandered through the sunshine. Delightful. And now I am going out soon for cocktails at A's sister's place and a night on the town. Few days till I'm home!


*Fun fact. In P.S. I Love You, during the flashback to when Hilary Swank and Gerard Butler first meet, she tells him she's staying in "Dun Laoghaire." But pronounces it like it looks. And he makes fun of her. Because it's pronounced "Dun Leary."

Status:

Exam: Completed. Ended up being no big deal (Good thing because I didn't study much...)

Celebratory post-exam, done-with-junior-year drink: Consumed at the Pav with another study abroad student who only had to do half the exam, like me

Bathroom: Sparkling clean

Refrigerator, freezer, and cupboards: Empty

Full rubbish bags taken out in the past hour: 3

Estimated future rubbish bags to take out, not including recycling: 3?

Most urgent task that I cannot seem to muster the energy to do right now: PACKING.

Current tool of distraction: Lie to Me

Time I need to be out of the apartment: Noon tomorrow

Plans for the next week: Some coffee/lunch dates, a birthday celebration, cheering on my friend in the city mini-marathon, picking up a package (!) [the sender knows who she is], dropping off books and clothes to donate at charity shops, spending Zara gift card and contemplating how to fit whatever I buy into my stuffed-to-the-gills bags...

Approximate time until I am on American soil again: 1 week minus 2 hours.

On Language

Becca left this morning. I woke up early to help her transport one of her suitcases to the bus in the city centre so she wouldn't have to call a cab.

And now I'm alone in this big apartment. A bundle of emotions.

I still have to pack and finish cleaning, so it's not like I don't have a lot to do. Plus, I have to study for my exam tomorrow. (Ack.)

Then Thursday I am transporting my belongings (should be tricky) to my friend's house where I will lodge for a few nights until my flight home on Wednesday.

Sigh. Deeper thoughts later. For now:

I was scrolling through my posts here and I have a few unfinished ones about speech patterns and accents and how I've tried not to adopt all the Irish speech habits because I tend to think that sounds forced/fake, but at this point, a lot of words just slip out. On top of that, when I was in Italy, Julianne made fun of me for the way I said something, because it slipped out with a particularly Irish cadence. It's this weird lilt that emerges usually when I'm talking to an Irish person but sometimes even when I'm not. I'm going to have to drop that before I come home.


Anyway, here's something I wrote on May 8:

-It seems like the past few times that I've been in conversation with a group of Irish friends, it's always turned into a "let's laugh at all the American things you say" sort of thing. I try to code-switch into Irish sometimes, but there are times when I'm not sure if it's appropriate. Such a moment led to a long discussion of cookies vs. biscuits. In my opinion, there is a large area of intersection, but there are definitely biscuits that I might call "crackers" or maybe "tea biscuits" to be clear. And there are cookies that...well, that can't really be called biscuits because apparently they've not been heard of. I started listing what I consider to be "cookies"--chocolate chip, peanut butter, snickerdoodle--and then we got completely sidetracked by the "snickerdoodle" thing. I said it was a "sugar cookie" rolled in cinnamon and spices, and they were like, "What's a sugar cookie?" So I said it was a cookie with nothing in it, and then they made fun of me for eating "vacuum cookies." Oh the Irish and their relentless teasing.

I also got mocked for putting peanut butter and "jam" together on a regular basis, for going to "middle school," for the way I say "tomato." And criticized for not saying "awesome" enough like a true American, although I had to admit that I purposely tone down the "awesome" because I noticed early on how out of place it sounds. I also stopped saying "great," although I couldn't bring myself to say "grand" instead until very recently. "Brilliant" was easier. But mostly I just say "amazing."-


Here's a bit from early April:

-Irish and American accents, except for the thickest versions, are really not so different. But I still, surprisingly often, have tangled conversations when I get to a word I or the other party doesn't quite recognize. And think about it. If an Irish person came to America, you would appreciate them toning down their accent and saying things like "vacation" instead of "hols" or "bangs" instead of "fringe." You'd probably figure out what they meant by "fringe," but the conversation would flow better; you wouldn't be sitting there thinking "what a faker, that person is trying to talk like an American." You might not even realize that there is a vocabulary difference. So I've started deliberately switching out words, and it's a relief.-


The one thing I haven't adopted is the word "cheers." It's used before/after/instead of "bye," "thank you," "you're welcome," and more. But it's just too much for me. On the other hand, "thanks a million," a phrase I used regularly in correspondence before coming here, has now firmly entrenched itself in my lexicon. I'm not gonna lie, I was pretty delighted when I realized everyone walks around saying "thanks a million" instead of "thanks a lot" or "thanks so much" or other more unimaginative phrases.

Okay, that's enough of that. Bye for now. Off to do more cleaning/stuying.