Wednesday, October 24, 2018

The Emotional States of Ireland


In the short time I’ve been in Ireland, I think I’ve grown a lot and experienced so many different emotions. 

So, I ’ve decided to just to give you a taste of the top four emotions I’ve felt so far.


  1. Exhaustion 

I arrived in Ireland and was immediately grateful to not be stuck on a plane anymore. The braid pigtails my mom had perfectly sculpted were frizzy and red lines of them were imprinted on my face from the complementary airplane pillow.
I questioned whether or not the cloth was made of sandpaper since it was unbearably itchy but decided it didn’t matter anyway.   Sleep was just as evasive as it was the night before, I just hoped that there weren’t bags under my eyes deeper than the craters of the moon.
When the plane rolled into the terminal, the lights dinged on, making me squint. The pilot came on the loudspeaker, welcoming us to Ireland…. I zoned out for a little bit then stuffed my unicorn pillow pet (mature, I know) into my backpack and made sure my wallet and phone were in my purse.
Then I heard; “It’s a mild, windy day at 19 degrees Celsius” and I froze. 19 DEGREES! My brain panicked. I’m not dressed for 19 DEGREES, I was only wearing my baggy sweatshirt and Beauty and the Beast stained-glass printed leggings.
Were the Irish crazy, I thought. Surely, they don’t think that 19 DEGREES was mild weather. But then a light bulb went off in my head…… the pilot said 19 degrees CELSIUS not Fahrenheit.  Celsius is much different than Fahrenheit but I forgot (which was no surprise, I’ve never liked math anyway). It was probably close to the 50s or 60s Fahrenheit, but I couldn’t remember the exact conversion method.
“ Well, Toto….” I whispered to myself, “we’re definitely not in America anymore.”
And with that, it was my turn to get off the plane…I was already exhausted and it was only 7:30 in the morning.

Ireland From Above 

2. Awe

When they say Ireland is green, they REALLY MEAN Ireland is GREEN. From the air, it looks like patches of green grass divided by little stone barriers, like it was woven into a big green quilt. There are also rolling hills that remind me of The Shire were Frodo and all the other hobbits were from The Hobbit. I believe the actual hobbit civilization is located in New Zealand though, but it still looks similar.
Anyway, Ireland is a writer’s jackpot for inspiration with all the castles (also known as tower-houses) like Blarney Castle. I know, I’ve talked about Blarney a few times but it’s one of my favorite touristy attractions that I have visited so far. It was built by the famous McCarthy family (the McCarthy’s were the clan in charge of Cork at the time).
The one standing there right now was built in 1446 and was the third erected on the site. There was a wooden structure before, that I think probably either rotted or burned down, so I guess they thought stone would last longer.
 Stone was a smart choice since it’s still here today but the steep spiral stone staircases, not so much. I remember standing in the line of tourists that ran around the staircase and saying, “Do you think anyone died falling down these staircases?” The girl in front of me laughed,  “ I dunno…maybe.”
The staircases up the towers seriously felt more like tiny stone caves with their stooped ceilings rather than stairs and hallways actual people used. “Maybe the Irish were agile and short,” I thought to myself.
 But what about the women in their long medieval dresses?  I tried to imagine myself in long a dress and not tripping up these stairs but I failed miserably.  What a terrible way to die by falling down the steps. 
When I finally reached the top of the castle that overlooked miles of tall trees and green fields, I closed my eyes and tried to picture what it must have been like years ago, but nothing came to mind. I was just in awe of the view and by the fact I didn’t trip once when climbing up the stairs.  Goals in life, my friends.

The view from Blarney Castle. 


3. Anxiety

I’ve never been one for lots of people so when UCC in Cork officially opened, I felt completely overwhelmed. The place was bursting at the seams with people, not just Irish people but people from all over the world.
What didn’t help is that I got lost. Not a surprise really since I am always perpetually lost. One time, my friends even put me in the middle in a sort of caravan driving to my friend’s house just to make sure I stayed with the group.
At first, UCC felt like freshman year all over again and it took walking around in circles and through packs of clueless students to finally find my first class. It just so happened that I didn’t find it until it was half over. Ooops! I met a cool Irish freshman who’s going for food science though!
Getting lost was  (and still is sometimes) one of my greatest problems.  I kept a tally with my friend and counted ten times in the first month that I got lost.
TEN times! Part of it was due to not having a proper working international phone and needed a different Irish sim card so I couldn’t use Google maps. And, you guessed it, I couldn’t find the phone store either.
Now, this might not seem like a big deal but for someone who is naturally anxious like me, it’s not fun. I kept thinking that people were staring at me and that I stuck out as an American tourist since I was just wandering around the inner city with my face glued to my Google maps (at least once I had access to it).
After all, in the study abroad preparation meetings you’re told to “blend” in order not to get mugged. Also, I just didn’t want to be labeled as the stereotypical obnoxious American, I wanted to fit in.
 I wanted to belong and I felt like I didn’t.  And that always causes me great anxiety. 


The Grand Parade which is also known as City Center in Cork 

 4. Peace

I know I already mentioned that Ireland is beautiful, but it also has a sense of peace that isn’t found in Baltimore or my hometown. The River Lee that divides it is always like smooth glass, reflecting the image of the trees around it.
In the river, you can often find ducks paddling along, probably looking for food. They aren’t yellow like rubber ducks (unfortunately, there are no such thing as yellow ducks), but I always smile when I see them.
On one a rainy Friday I saw swans. Two of them diving with their long white necks into the water looking for food just like the ducks. I couldn’t stop myself from taking pictures at the time. After all, they’re swans and I hardly ever see them where I’m from and so forty photos later, I had documented their complete movements for five whole minutes. Later, I told my Irish friend about the pictures I took and he just chuckled at me. I guess I was one of the only American students in Ireland excited about swans.
Little pops of flowers decorate the stone walls that sometimes guide the sidewalks and I marvel at them, wondering how they could thrive so far above the ground in stone. It’s the simple things like this that make Ireland peaceful for me although some people hardly ever notice them. I realize now that at home I often ignore the simple things that give me peace. Coming here, it has reminded me to look for those little things of peace again.

And there have been so many more emotions the longer I am here in Ireland, some good and some uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

The Swans Diving For Lunch. 

Thursday, October 18, 2018

There is No Place Like Home


Like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, I truly believe “There is No Place Like Home” no matter how much I complain about it sometimes. As I mentioned in my very first post, I am from Oxford, Pennsylvania (which is about an hour outside of Philadelphia if your geography is as terrible as mine). However, I don’t think I mentioned that it’s a small town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by farms.  
And not just any farms, but Amish farms. Yes, you heard me right, some of my neighbors are Amish. In fact, I've nicknamed my town “Mini Lancaster” (the real Lancaster is a city that is one of largest populations of Amish in America besides Ohio) because there are so many Amish around town. 
But before you jump to conclusions, I must say that they are nothing like the Amish portrayed in the famous TV shows Breaking Amish or Amish Mafia.
 I even heard somewhere that the shows were fake because one of the “Amish” girls on Breaking Amish was actually a model.  Either way though, the Amish are nice, friendly people who grow tasty fruits and veggies, beautiful flowers and make mean whoopie pies.
The only things I can complain about are: they smell to high heavens (given they only bathe once a week), their horse and buggies are extremely slow, and the horses poop all over the roads. I can’t even count how many times I've ended up late for something or gotten poop in my tires.

A typical Amish Horse and Buggie 

You can probably imagine then that Cork, Ireland is different given that it’s a city with no buggies and has a river slicing the city in half. Yet, they are similar in the way that they both have fresh fruits and veggies. The Irish just have a place called The English Market instead of the Amish market.
Speaking of food, there are some significant differences in how food is prepared and what parts of the meat are used by the Irish. For example, they eat all of the pig and by all of the pig, I mean EVERY single part from the ears to the heart. They even sell a whole pig’s head which, of course, is not creepy at all (note the sarcasm).  In America, I think we are a bit more wasteful.
 Irish food, like many European foods, also has no preservatives essentially meaning that the food goes bad a lot quicker. It is also important to mention that they (to my dismay) don’t have whoopie pies. One of my new Irish friends even said they’d never heard of whoopie pies. GASP!  Ireland however, makes up for it with their scones. I have one at least once a week.


Pig's Heads at the English Market. 

People here in Cork, Ireland also work shorter days. Most places besides pubs close at 4 pm and the Garda (the police station here) close at 3:30 pm. I found that out the hard way trying to get my immigration card. Many places also take an hour lunch break and are completely closed from 12 pm-1 pm. And they seem a lot happier. Maybe America should take a page out of their book?
There are also differences in how the Irish drive and how cars are made. Now, I know most people know this, but the Irish drive on the left side of the road, making their steering wheel located on the right side of the car.  I'm thankful I'm not driving here because this would take some getting used to.
The roads are also extremely narrow and curvy especially the further you head out of the city.  In America, as we know, we drive on the right side with our steering wheel on the left. And although some of the roads aren’t great, they are a thousand times better than the Irish ones. I guess that's a point for America then; we have the better roads.

The Garda Station 

The biggest difference of all between Ireland and America is their age. America, as we know it today, has only existed over two-hundred and fifty odd years, while Ireland has been around for thousands of years and has a longer history and ruins like the man-made structure called Newgrange that dates back even before the Great Pyramids.  In comparison, America is the teenager and Ireland is the grandparent.
        Of course, there are many other differences between Ireland and America like the way the Irish pronounce things, the different phrases they use, the fact that many people actually like their Irish president who looks like Dobby from Harry Potter, and of course, the all-important fact that they have amazing castles and tower houses practically around every corner. 
         Despite these differences though, America and Ireland have a great connection due to the thousands of Irish (including some of my grandparents) who immigrated to the U.S because of famine, war, and a desire to have a piece of the American dream. 
          And although I enjoy experiencing life in Ireland and think its better than the U.S. in some ways, I do miss my family and those whoopie pies.  
Truly, there is no place like home.


My childhood home during the Summertime.
        The color-coordinated decorations are kudos to my mom.





Thursday, October 11, 2018

The Humdrum of University Life


The UCC Western Gateway 

On a normal University school day, students mill along the stone sidewalks probably heading to class or who knows where else. Some are clustered in groups and are chatting loudly about nothing in particular while others are lost in their own world, with their earbuds spouting music.
In front of the library near the windows, there are sometimes tables advertising one thing or another like vendors at a market. In fact, it kind of looks like a market with the windows sunk in behind two gray slates of wall. For society’s day or clubs’ day as we Americans would call it, there were tables aligned all across the library. 
My roommate and I stopped at the musical society one (since she is into theatre) and I stopped at a Medieval Renaissance table and learned that they make their own clothes and practice sword fighting. I was hooked immediately and signed up, but haven’t heard from them since then. A depressing thought but alas, maybe it is not meant to be. 
Currently though, there is a Breast Cancer Awareness table in the circular stone center with “ Bra Pong” instead of “Ping Pong” which I thought was pretty clever. Usually, I don’t have to time to stop and play it. 
One day, there was a giant Ben & Jerry’s tent with a long twisty line of students. They were giving out free samples of ice cream and, as you can imagine, college kids are all about the free food.  
Inside the Student Center, there are people usually eating in the window café (that’s not its official name but one complete wall of tables are pressed against giant glass windows). Sometimes, I choose to do work there, the noise being a pleasant background thrum that helps me focus. I find that too much quiet often makes me go mad, so the cafe is nice.  
The Café itself reminds me more of a cross between Wawa and Turkey Hill with a hot food counter that consists of things ranging from chicken wings to bagels. I noticed that most students get a hot or cold deli sandwich that you can make yourself.  
I don’t blame them, they are quite good except for the fact that they have weird dressings here. Sure, they have ketchup and barbecue sauce at most places, but they don’t have any ranch or honey mustard. Instead, there is lots and lots and lots of mayo. Not sure how I feel about that since I haven’t really tried mayo except for the little bit they sometimes put on sandwiches.  
I usually feel bad for the workers behind the counter because they always seem so busy especially around lunchtime, but I guess it’s their job. Beside the counter there is a long section of refrigerators that hold colorful juice drinks and pre-made sandwiches and  a large counter with two monster coffee drink machines and dark weaved baskets full of baked goods. My personal favorites are the scones. Usually the area is quite packed with hungry students and the lines for the registers are always long, but the workers dressed in their dark purple shirts are quick. 

The UCC Cafe 

If it’s a nice day, most sit outside basking in the sun rays as the sun is rare commodity here in Ireland. Sometimes, the boys would bring a plastic frisbee or a rugby ball and toss it around on the green quad but most laze around, sleeping, working, or chatting.  
One day, I even saw two boys sitting with their acoustic guitars strumming quietly along in the background. I wasn’t sure what they were playing but it reminded me those cool café scenes in movies. Glancing at them, I wondered if they could sing but chose not to ask them, since they were strangers and all. 
However, that’s one thing about Cork City, it doesn’t lack street performers. Usually they just lean up against a wall with a cap of a music case opened for collecting money. They are like your normal street performers except for the addition of a harmonica, accordion, or fiddle.
 What is different about these particular performers is that they play at night during the weekends as girls strut around in their skin-tight dresses and needle-like high heels while the men sometimes join in with the performers singing, probably drunk out of their minds.  It makes the city seem alive in a good way for once.  I wish that it could be that way for cities like Baltimore and Philadelphia. 
Overall though, most students in UCC and in Ireland live much like we do in America but with their own flare. After all, wouldn’t it be boring if everything was the same? 

One of the UCC Quads

Thursday, October 4, 2018

A Town Of Its Own

(UCC Campus Alive )
UCC or University of College Cork is like every other campus but not. The green space or quad is splattered with students. A couple of guys stand in the middle throwing a frisbee. People group around the tall sturdy trees. There are little plots of flowers shaped like a square. Each square has its own color from ruby red to violet to pink to sunny yellow to orange, ectara. 
               One day, I was seated in between a red and violet plot and an orange and yellow one. Out of all the flowers, my favorite are the roses with their stems reaching up to the sky and the petals bursting like fireworks.At least, I think those flowers were roses. They are different colors similar to the square plots but from where I am sitting, they look like colored dots.





In the background, some weird disco music plays from a DJ stand. Then it turns into old pop music. That’s something I’ve realized about the Irish: they seem to like old pop music from the early and mid 2000’s. 
In the stone circle center to the left of the quad,  crowds of people gather around underneath a mini-stage. For what, I’m not sure but what I know is that I am staying away. There is a trampoline for some reason and food stands of things like funnel cakes and pizzas. Of course, all of this costs money but it still smells good. 
I cannot emphasize enough the enormous amount of people in the whole University. In fact, there are probably more people in this university that there were in my whole town or my home state even. 
Despite the amount of people, main campus is quite picturesque. The original building, an l-shaped  castle- like stone structure is very reminiscent of Downton Abbey with the magic of Hogwarts. 
In the middle there lay four patches of green squares and a paved pathway. However, it is bad luck if you walk through the middle of the quad on the pathway and considered the  “walk of shame” because it leads to the president’s office, the place where people go when they fail. 
Near the front of the quad, by the library stands a dark bronze or some other metal bust of a man named George Boole. George Boole is one of the famous alumni of UCC I believe, who was a brilliant mathematician but don’t ask me what he  contributed specifically, anything mathematical goes over my head. 


I do take pride that I know that he was a mathematician though because the two native students who gave me the tour of campus thought he was a scientist. Anyway, a tradition is that if you rub his nose, it will bring you good luck, so now his nose is being rubbed off little by little. 
On main campus, there is also the hundred-year-old Honan Chapel which has some of the prettiest stain glass windows of saints in Cork. In particular, there is a beautiful one of a woman named St. Gobnait who is the patron saint of Beekeepers and a local Saint in Cork for whom shrines are dedicated. My folklore Professor, Shane, who I mentioned before,  has pointed out the Celtic elements in the architecture to show the Celtic revival in Irish History. 
My favorite element of the chapel is the tiled aisle that is mosaic of a large river with fish and a giant serpent, eluding to the origin story of the River Lee. You see, the River Lee was rumored to be created by St. Finbarr (founder of UCC) when he banished a serpent from Ireland, leaving in its path, the river. 
There is also a library dedicated to the infamous George Boole and a student center with its whole front made of glass windows. The rest of campus is spread throughout the city, even crossing the River Lee at times, making UCC seem like a town of its own.