You have to leave to come back...

Overwhelmed does not even begin to express the amount of emotions which overcome me on a daily basis when I think of Ireland.

When I am asked what I miss the most, I don't know how to respond. I miss EVERYTHING. I can't think of one thing that I don't miss. The accents. The food. The lifestyle. The people. The scenery. The culture. The weather. I can't think of a thing that I wouldn't want back in my life. I feel as though I have lost one of the greatest loves of my life.



During my seven month span of time in Ireland, I had two separate experiences which have forever changed my life. I became someone with a passion to learn about the entirety of the world. I was fueled everyday with a desire to live everyday like it was my last and to get the most out of every passing day. I became independent and willing to go beyond my comfort zone and did so frequently, resulting in moments which will for forever define me.

Starting out in January and until early June, I was a student at the National University of Ireland, Maynooth and from the first day I arrived, I fell in love. I had always been enchanted by the motherland across the sea, but had never seen the green hills in person. On January 14th, that all changed and after actually experiencing the craic, the hospitality, and the scenery firsthand made all the years of waiting completely worth the seemingly endless wait. I discovered a new home. I had asked my friend Kellie, who had been in Maynooth for the year, how long it took her to feel as though Maynooth was home and she told me about a few weeks. For myself, within the first week I knew I was not going to willing want to leave in June.









In Maynooth, I became best friends with three of my Irish flatmates-Brid of Tipperary, Laoise of Cork, and Helena of Roscommon. They were the ones I asked questions when I needed help, the ones I asked for help when I was learning all of the new Irish slang, and the ones I asked to always keep room for me so I can come back and live with them forever. Along with my friends from Saint Mary's, my three flatmates of Boyne 9 became my family across the ocean. Along with my friend Kellie, the five of us became inseparable at times as we rotated cooking family dinners or going out to eat for a birthday or just because it was Tuesday. I miss them incredibly everyday, but I know I can always visit and we'll always keep in touch.













In Maynooth, I also learned to live independently and without the saving grace of the Noble Family Dining Hall. I had to grocery shop for myself and learned to buy the cheapest and easiest food to make. I found my deepest love in a shop called Dunnes where I could buy both clothes and food.



From June to August, I moved twenty-seven km from Maynooth to Rathmines/Dublin. I moved into 92 Grove Park with immense anxiety of who I was going to be living with and how I would adapt to this new experience. However, I was sincerely surprised when I became close friends with several girls in my house. I had the time of my life and was able to fulfill my dream I had made the first time I visited the Irish Parliament in April. I was able to walk through the gates of the Dail everyday and experience a new aspect of the Irish culture, the workplace. My internship opened my eyes to a new system of government, the inner-workings of political work, the greater differences between the US and Ireland, and made me thankful I never had aspirations to be a politician. I was able to see even more of Ireland during my summer and the experience gave me unparalleled confidence in my work and my ability to move forward with my aspirations.











My time in Maynooth and Dublin greatly contrasted the other. In Maynooth, the lifestyle was extremely laid-back, it was nothing like university in America. In Dublin, I never rested. If I wasn't working, I was out exploring the city and constantly on the move. In Maynooth, I would simply sit for hours over a cup of tea or dinner with friends. I would go with my friends out to the pitches and listen to my friend play the guitar if it was a sunny day and Sundays were taken literally as a day of rest. In Dublin, I would work and then come home to cook dinner and finish something from work, enjoy a night out, or work on my essays for UCD. My weekends were filled with endless activities that made the days feel never-ending. I lived and befriended the Irish in Maynooth, while I moved on to live with eight American girls in Dublin. However, the two balanced each other. The restful five months in Maynooth provided rejuvenation for the fast pace of Dublin in its extremely short eight weeks.

It was in Ireland and Europe that...

I traveled for 10 days with nothing but a few things in my backpack. I managed to also fit said backpack into the strict RyanAir cabin restrictions. I mastered the art of staying in a hostel and even began to enjoy them. I saw the likes of Paris, Rome, Florence, Oslo, London, Munich, and Innsbruck. I was mistaken for a Parisien. I brought the gifts up at a mass in the Vatican. I was blessed by the Pope. I experienced the pure of joy of being under the Tuscan sun. I visited the Noble Peace Center. I walked in the steps of history at a concentration camp. I stood on top of an Alp.

Within Ireland, I traveled to Counties Dublin, Kildare, Wicklow, Waterford, Tipperary,Cork, Kerry, Limerick, Clare, Galway, Mayo, Roscommon, and Leitrim. I was able to see the two coasts and the midlands. I also made it to the North twice--both times to Belfast to see Maynooth's gaelic football team play and to have a tour of Stormont and the murals from the Troubles.

Music was also a common theme throughout my journey. I was able to see the best current Irish bands perform and win awards at the Meteor Irish Music Awards and was able to take part in one of Europe's Best Music Festivals during the summer at OXEGEN. Traditional Irish music was another favorite of mine as I regularly attended sessions on Sunday nights at a pub in Temple Bar during my entire stay. I also discovered the best traditional music in Dublin at a pub called O'Donoghue's. Outside of the big smoke, I was able to enjoy a session in the village of Doolan, Co. Clare which is deemed as the best place for traditional Irish music. However, by far my favorite was when my cousin took me to a small pub in Lousiburgh, Co. Mayo and I listened as people in the tiny room took turns singing old songs acapella. The voices of the women and men were astounding and straight out of every stereotypical country Irish movie. This a video from the same pub I was at, Duffy's, just to give an idea of what it was like although this isn't my video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LTayuu9m7pY&feature=related

Although I can't express exactly all that I loved about Ireland, I can certainly pinpoint my favorite part of my journey-my family.

When I left the US in January, I left all of my loved ones behind. I was going to be spending an extended amount of time across an entire ocean. I was not going to be only across the stateline from my family, I was going to be an entire six timezones away and a eight hour flight. Leaving at a time when many things were uncertain with family, only made things more difficult for me to leave. However, I was unaware that when I arrived in Ireland, I was going to be getting the same support and care that I had had in America just from a new set of family members. Before I even boarded my flight for Ireland, my mom called to tell me that my grandma had talked with our Irish relatives and it turned out that some of them lived within 5 and 10 minutes of me in Maynooth. Although the Irish relatives proclaimed this probably was bad for me, I completely disagreed seeing them only as an asset and enrichment to my time in Ireland.

As I mentioned in a previous post, the first time I met them, it felt as though I had known them all of my life. I don't remember meeting some of them when I was little, but that did not matter as we instantly all began to know each other. I was warmly brought into the life of Luke and those of his three sons Kevin, Des, and Brian. I also respectively met all of their wives and children, even being in Ireland at the time when Des had his first child. At my first dinner with Luke, Kevin, and Des and their families I was told to sit down and eat, I was home. I was treated to several evenings with the Morleys. They provided for me just as though I was one of their children. I was taken to meet other family members in the Dublin area, given tickets to the Irish Music Awards, arranged to meet with a family friend to go into the Dail, entertained and housed visiting American family, helped move me from Maynooth to Dublin, given multiple dinners, welcomed my friends from Saint Mary's into their homes, and so much more. I was given the opportunity twice to go out to Accony, Co. Mayo to see their holiday home and to spend time with them out there getting to know where my true roots lie. I was provided for better than a student should have been. When I simply asked what bus number would take me from Dublin to Maynooth on St. Patrick's Day, they were on high alert to make sure I made it back safe with several texts and calls. For their hospitality and concern I cannot be more thankful. When I lost my wallet with my passport, credit card, money, and all forms of ID, they were the ones to help me make it to the US Embassy and make sure that I was taken care of and had everything necessary to get back, without them I might still be Ireland. Although saying good-bye to them for now was awful, I know that it's not the last I will see of them.









Ireland gave me the gifts of simple happiness and love, both of which I do not know how to return. However, I know that someday soon I will be back to try and return the favor to my new homeland.

When I was with Kevin and his girls out in Mayo for a weekend and he asked me if I was ready to go back to America and I told him, not quite. He told me that he and his family love going out to Mayo for holiday and when they have to leave, their neighbor always tells them that in order to come back, they must leave first. I think of Kevin's comforting words when I miss Ireland, but I know since I have left, I only now have the opportunity to go back.

Sláinte.

24 Hours until Departure with No Passport, but Everything Does Work Out

Tuesday morning I woke up still in Mayo and after having some breakfast, Des told me of a nice walk to take so I got ready and headed out. Two minutes after a left turn out of the driveway of their cottage, leads to a small rocky beach along Clew Bay. To the left is Clare Island and ahead are the hills of Achill Island. Breathtaking does not even describe the view. I sat along the wall of the beach for a few minutes taking in the view and wishing that I could stay there forever. After my few visits out to the area, I settled on the fact that Mayo is by far my favorite area of Ireland. My time spent on the beach made me miss it even more. I continued on the walk and it led me up a hill where I was able to look out and see my cousins' house and see the sea to the left and right with Inishturk out in the distance. The road was narrow and passed down into fields of cows and eventually looped down onto the "main road" which leads to the harbor out to Inishturk and led me back to the cottage. The walk alone made me yearn for more time in Ireland and with a minor mishap, I almost had my wish..



As soon as I got back from my walk, Luke and I packed up the car and headed back for Kevin's house in Kilcock. We arrived back later in the day and were met by cheers from Kevin's girls. It had been almost a month since I had last seen them so it was great to be able to spend my last bit of time with them. We had dinner and then enjoyed a cuppa altogether before Luke left for the night.

The next morning ushered in my last full day in Ireland and again, nothing felt real-I did not believe this was the end. I got ready for the day and Erin was going to take me to the train station to go into Dublin for the day. As soon as I was putting my purse together, I noticed my wallet was missing...I searched everyway-my suitcase, my coat, everywhere. I was also out of credit on my phone so I used Erin's to start calling anywhere where I suspected my wallet might be. Mind you my passport, credit card, ATM card, all IDS, money everything was in there. So in looking at the clock and seeing that I had nearly 24 hours until my flight back home to America, it was time to get to work. I called Des back in Mayo to check the house, Luke to check his car, the community center on Inishturk, the ferry out to Inishturk, the Garda station in Westport...I called everywhere I could think of in the County of Mayo. However, none of the results coming back were what I wanted to hear. The last time I had remembered using my wallet was at the community center on Inishturk. I had to think about changing my flight, trying to get into the embassy, there was a lot to take in. I called the American Embassy and learned that I needed 2 passport photos, $150, and any form of ID...things were just not going my way. So Erin and I headed into town and got credit on my phone and went to the pharmacy to get my passport photos. I then tried the emergency number for the US Embassy and was told that I could come in the next morning at 8:30am to get an emergency passport and that I should be able to make my flight the next day. I had been told that everything would work out and I only took the Irish saying with a grain of salt because I was starting to panic.

Kevin had taken the day off work to help out with the outrageous situation at hand and after I printed off my flight information, he had gotten word that if I was able to make it to the Embassy by 4, I might be able to get my passport that day. Well, it was 3:34 and to get into Dublin and to the other side of the city was not going to take only 26 minutes. However, we jumped in the car and sprinted into town and made our way to Ballsbridge. To make matters worse, there was a horse show in the area and the Irish Soccer League was playing Manchester United at a stadium down the road so traffic was only setting us back. By the time we pulled up to the 70s style building, it was 4:20. Kevin told me to run to the entrance and start pleading like I never had before. I ran to the window and the security guard, Eamon, took sympathy on me and called to see if there was anyone still in the passport department to help me out.

Thankfully Eamon came back to the window and let me into the door of the security hut. Just as I was about to go in, Kevin also came to the rescue with money for me to pay for the passport. Eamon took my iPod and cellphone and then I had to go through a metal detector and was given a lanyard. Eamon then had to escort me into the building, radioing when he was opening the door and then he had to sit with me in the room throughout my entire time in there. I was surprised my new friend did not have to come into the bathroom with me. To say that security at the American Embassy was overkill compared to the Irish Parliament would be an understatement. The woman who helped me get my passport just so happened to be from an island near Inishturk in Mayo so she was surprised to learn that I may have lost it out there. Eventually after filling out a few forms and learning more about my shadow Eamon, I received my emergency passport and was now free to head back to America, my unintentional plan to stay a little while longer had not worked. Eamon led us out, but apparently I had walked to far ahead of him as he was closing the door and at to sprint to get back by my side. I was given my iPod and cellphone back as I left and after bidding farewell and g'luk from my new friend, I ran to Kevin's car and we headed back. On our way we passed by Stephen's Green, the Grand Canal, Grafton, Trinity, River Liffey, but I could not help wish that I had had a proper good-bye to the city that had become my own. Maybe my mishap and the rain on my last day in Dublin were both supposed to happen so as to stop me from saying good-bye, but allowing me to know that I would be back and did not need to cry and trudge around the city. I will be back.

When we returned to Kilcock, I was wiped out and ready for dinner. I played with the girls for a bit and then had my final dinner in Ireland. After dinner, Erin and I ran to Tesco in Maynooth to get some Moro bars to bring back home. On the way, we had to pass through the main street of Maynooth and I was able to see the Roost, Mantra, Brady's, O'Neill's, the Happy Hound, the Laundrette, Bagel Factory, Lotus, Supermac's, Mizzoni's, Dunnes, and Maximus all again. I was able to say my good-bye to the 'Nooth, but it was all so different during the summer-it was almost dead. When we made it back to the house, Luke had called over and we enjoyed a cuppa, so though he was off and the girls went to bed. Erin and I watched a movie and then I headed to bed to prepare myself for the morning. I was relieved to not have to worry about getting up early and heading into Dublin to get my passport.

In the morning I woke up with a pit in my stomach and a broken heart, I never knew how soon my journey which started in January would end. Time had flown and as I brought my suitcase down the stairs, I was overcome with a desire to go back to the start. I got ready with my Mayo jersey and then had my final meal. Eve told me that I was flying back to America that day and I couldn't help but feel her grief as well as mine. Kevin was running late so Erin, the girls, and I loaded my stuff into the car and headed for the airport. On the way, I enjoyed listening to the girls belt out Lady Gaga and other popular music one last time. All I could do was laugh and enjoy the moment. Before I knew it, we were pulling up to the terminal and I was getting out of the car saying good-bye to Erin, Hannah, Eve, and Ella. They had become my pseudo family during my time here and I couldn't thank them enough for all that they had done for me. I sobbed as I hugged them each good-bye and turned to walk inside to check-in.

I forgot about the potential of having to pay for overweight luggage and as I put one of my bags onto the belt, I was told that I would need to pay 40 euro. Oh dear, here came the tears. I asked if there was anyway I could give them a credit card number, but they could not. More tears came and the woman I was working with took sympathy on me, but her co-worker did not and with only 25 euro on me, I frantically called Erin. She was already on the highway back so it would be some time for her to turn back. I thankfully remembered that I still had 100 Norwegian Kroner on me and so I ran to convert them, but that only gave me 10 euro. With only 5 euro to go, I grabbed my plastic bag full of change that I had been carrying with me and counted out 5 more euro. Thank the lord. This whole losing the wallet deal was not working out too well. However, the woman informed me that she was not able to accept cash so she sent me over to another desk. Thanks a mil for telling me earlier...I then left my bags and ran to get my boarding ticket. Finally I had in my hand and then made my way to security and my gate. I was beyond ready to just get home and end this traveling chaos. When I made it to my gate, I realized that I had to go through customs there in Ireland so I filled out a customs form and then went down some stairs and was released to my gate. One of my housemates from Dublin was also leaving about the same time on a different flight and after searching her gate with no sign of her, her surprise arrival at my gate was exactly what I needed. I had been so stressed out trying to get my bags onto the flight and with the stress of leaving, I needed a friendly face to make my laugh. However, our visit was too short and parting from her was just another notch on my long good-bye belt. Soon I boarded my flight and as soon as my plane left the ground, my seven month adventure ended and things for me had changed, utterly changed...

“Tim Mac ye said? Well then, you’re very welcome to Inishturk.”

I feel it’s only appropriate to dedicate an entire post to the only island that’s better than the mainland of Ireland itself, Inishturk. A small island off the coast of Co. Mayo is where the true motherland for me lies. The Turk is where my great-grandpa McNamara called home and where I also know claim as home. I have heard endless stories of Inishturk from my Grandma and Uncle Johnny as well as my Mom and aunts and I wanted to see what the island, where a lobster fisherman named Tim Mac hailed from, was all about. Since I had come down to stay with my Irish family, they wanted me to try and get out to the island and so Monday morning came and I was on the ferry out. They sent me on my own and I was quite nervous about going on my own. Certainly I had roots on the island, but I had no idea where to go or what to see exactly and was hoping these people would remember Timothy McNamara.



When we arrived at the pier in Inishturk, I was apprehensive about getting off the boat and was curious how I was going to be received. As soon as I got off, I found an older woman standing there and asked her where the B&B was where my great-grandpa had lived. Apparently she owned one of the B&B’s, but soon enough was swept up in conversation and since “over the bushes” meant absolutely nothing to me, I kept walking. People were standing in their doorways simply staring at me, knowing full well that I was an outsider. I quickly walked up the road and called my grandma and mom to get some information about where the house was. I also asked a lad named David, but being from Louisburgh he didn’t know too much about the history of the island. However, he did tell me to follow the road for the Loop walk around the island. With a few failed attempts to find the B&B, I figured this was my best option to figure out my game plan for the next ohhh six and a half hours. I walked up the road which turned a bit steep-triggering me to whip out the inhaler and continued until I got to the gate which David told me to close or else the sheep would get out. As soon as I got through the gate, I made sure that gate was closed like it never had been before so as not to make any Inishturk farmer mad. The path soon turned into a bunch of rocks in a winding path. Soon I was at the back of the island and was looking out at the Atlantic Ocean with nothing out there but America somewhere out there.

I sat on a rock for a while just thinking and calling my mom. I watched the waves beat down the steep hill against the rocks. Rocks were scattered all about in the middle of the green pastures. After my mother encouraged me to go into town and talk to the people, I decided to finish the walk and find somewhere to go—to find out more about Tim Mac on the island. The rest of the path took me up a hill and around the edge of the hill that spilled down into the ocean and then went back down around a small lake or a giant puddle. The path was set close to the bottom of a hill with it rising on the right and then going down into a small valley below, housing sheep. At the end of the puddle, there was a turn where three sheep were staring at me, waiting for me to get closer. As I grew closer to the sheep, they started to walk in front of me and almost started leading me on my way. Along the way I also looked down and saw the GAA club of the island and then rounded around and came upon a few houses. The road continued to wind and then came back around to the front of the island. There were fields on the right that went down to cliffs leading down to the ocean. Houses were scattered on the left and soon I was passing one as the three men out front all looked at me as I passed…still knowing I was a stranger. And then making myself even more obvious, I asked where the community center was and they gave me directions and I nodded and moved on. Soon enough I came to one of the most beautiful spots on the Turk for views, Clare Island was straight ahead and the mainland to the right and the harbor area down below with the community center on the corner. I was starving at this point and decided to just walk in and try to get a bit of lunch…little did I know what I was getting myself into.

As soon I walked into the center, there was a large room on the right with a pool table and then to the left was the pub. When I walked in, the six men at the bar including the bartender all stopped what they were doing and turned just staring at me. There was no music on or anything so the place was absolutely silent. I nearly died in that moment as I tried to look for peace offering words so I could be accepted into the pub. I was mortified for the few silent seconds and almost ducked out—I knew I should not have gone alone. I can only imagine what my eyes looked like as I just stood there. If you have ever seen Waking Ned Devine, I was the lotto man from Dublin sneezing in the back of the church during the funeral. Thankfully, the silence was broken by David the lad I had met earlier in the village. I did not have time to recognize him because my head was spinning and I could not see straight. He belted out the obvious that I had come all the way to Chicago to come to Inishturk. Everyone was still a little apprehensive of the strange American in the pub, but I tried to settle in by ordering something to eat. I settled on a ham sandwich and some soup. Thankfully David was a bit of a chatterbox so he kept talking to me and then invited me to sit at the bar. Soon enough the man next to me asked why I was on the island and in explaining that I was Tim McNamara’s great-granddaughter—things got a little crazy…

The older gentleman in the corner of the bar, Joe, was able to figure out that I was third or fourth cousins with the bartender. Things took off from there and for the rest of the day he called me “cuz”. Joe was the one who knew the most about my great-grandpa and called him Tim Mac. He even pointed out the house, well maybe, which was my great-grandpa’s. Soon the bartender, Vivian, alerted his mom and dad who were in the back in the kitchen and they welcomed me as well. My lunch was brought out and the dad shook my hand and told me I was very welcome back home. I could not believe the hospitality of the people. Everyone kept checking to make sure my sandwich was alright and that I was doing fine. I was certainly welcomed and made to feel at home. Everyone was talking with me and then I was offered a pint of Guinness. Looking back, maybe I should have said no-but when on Inishturk! Soon enough different people were funneling in and they were talking to me about all different things from politics since they found out I worked in the Dail and then Irish music. Vivian pulled out a CD of some of his favorite Irish music and the pub was filled with the flute, fiddle, and the whistle. A few pints were bought for me and I talked with a few many people. I was even invited to go “island-hopping”. Clearly, they have a lot to do around there… Joe was soon over and bless his soul, he was explaining different things to me about the island, but with his accent I honestly could barely make out a word. He shared in the pint extravaganza and my glass was never empty before the next one was poured. Vivian warned me that I was on the slippery slope with a laugh and I completely believed him. The people of Inishturk must not have a lot to do and it being a bank holiday, people started funneling in towards the last few hours for a drink. I met several people and signed the guestbook to remind them and myself of my journey to the Turk. I was told that I looked like a real Irish woman with my wild hair, freckled skin, and my sip of the Guinness. Finally, someone in this country thinks I’m Irish and not American or Spanish.





My day was spent in the community center with the rain coming down outside and by the end of the day, the mainland was nowhere in sight and I had met the slippery slope that Vivian had warned me about. I was a little nervous to get on the ferry back, but before I knew it, I said good-bye to Vivian and was taken to the pier by my new friend and his son. His son was also going back to the mainland so the two of us, along with all of the visitors from the holiday weekend. It seemed as though there were more people leaving the island than were staying. It had been a nice day and even though I had been nervous to come over by myself, all had turned out well and I was glad I had made the journey. I was told to come back to Inishturk anytime and will certainly look to do so in the future. When I made it back to the mainland, I was happy to get a warm shower, dinner, and a cuppa tea.

I Remember That Summer in Dublin

When I woke up Monday, it began to hit me that it really was just about the end. Monday morning I woke up and few of the girls and I went down the street to a pub that serves an Irish breakfast. I was really expecting it to be any good, however, I was pleasantly surprised. I was able to delight in toast, tea, rashers, sausage, eggs, and beans. My future meal has come to be the unhealthy traditional Irish fry. We sat outside and I could not have been happier at that moment-beautiful day, amazing food, and great company. I then made a pit stop at the Spar, convenience store, on the corner by our house to see if they had a box I could use to ship some things home and my dear Polish friend assured me that he would save one for me. From there we then went to Henry St. to do some shopping. I knew I could not join them for the whole time, so I soon left and then went back home to try and finish my paper and presentation. I made some progress and then started another project of my own. I had bought an Irish flag on the street and wanted all of my roommates to sign it so I went around bothering everyone as they were also working on their papers and was able to get my flag fully signatured. That night a few of us went out for a few drinks and talked about the last few weeks, then on our way home we ran into a group from our program who were out celebrating our friend’s birthday so we decided to join them and headed back down the street.



On Tuesday, I was determined to finish everything up and for the most part was able to for the whole day. Later that evening we had a farewell dinner provided by UCD so we all got ready and sat outside for a bit enjoying the weather in our back garden. Then we walked over to the Brazen Head, which is Ireland’s oldest pub. There we were in a private room and given a three course dinner. In between each course there was a man who stood up and told us stories about the famine, fairy forts, and a variety of different things. At the end, we were simply told we could go so the dinner really didn’t feel like a good-bye dinner and didn’t really provide any closure for the program. However, we then headed home and since almost everyone except me and two other girls in my house had to present the next day.



Everyone was off presenting their internship projects in the morning, so I tried to review and finish everything before they got back. When they did come back bragging and boasting, I was quite jealous and had wished I could enjoy the day. However, I was still able to get out with some of my roommates and enjoy our time as we went to Stephen’s Green for lunch and enjoyed the weather for a bit. After our lunch, I went to print out my paper and buy a few gifts and then headed back to the house. That night one of my roommates wanted to take advantage of all of the ethnic restaurants near us, so we went to a Lebanese place down the street and my mouth has never been happier. I delighted in my chicken something or other…and then we went home and I finished everything up for my presentation and then we went out with almost everyone in our program. Basically everyone had finished except for nine of us, but we all went out and had fun, while saying good-bye to everyone.





The next day I woke up early and headed to UCD on the #10 one last time. I met two other girls in my presentation group on the way. My presentation went well I thought and as much as I hate speaking in front of people, the presentation was pretty easy and I’m not sure if that’s only because it was with only 4 other people or I’ve just gained more confidence in Ireland, but it went well and on the way home I had surprise. As I was waiting for the bus, someone in an Irish accent called my name and completely confused, I made out that it was my roommate from Maynooth (Brid’s) friend Jackie. Even though it wasn’t Brid, it was great to see Jackie before I left. I was so happy to finally be done and actually have the chance to feel like it was summer. However, I was consumed with thoughts of packing and saying good-bye. Two of my roommates left on Thursday so it was all entirely bittersweet even though it didn’t feel like they were actually leaving. One of my good friends, Melissa, was leaving Friday morning so a few of us went out to dinner at a place called the Porterhouse and enjoyed some traditional Irish fare. After dinner, Melissa wanted to go listen to some music so we walked around Temple Bar and eventually wound up at O’Donoghues by Grafton Street. There weren’t many people there and a female folk singer had the mic for the night so it wasn’t your typical Irish music, but we sat upstairs and talked for a few hours thinking about the summer. Eventually Melissa had to get back and finish some packing so we headed back and went to bed.





The next morning I was woken up by Melissa saying good-bye and as I watched her walk down the stoop and disappear, it didn’t seem real that summer in Dublin was ending. I couldn’t even imagine being Melissa and getting on a plane home that morning. The rest of the day was pretty rainy and I did not feel well from suspected mold infiltrating the house so I just packed a little and hung around with my other roommates. Our landlord decided to send over some gardeners on our last day so of course our back garden actually looked enjoyable for once, which was a shame since we never used it. For dinner, Marissa, Kat, and I met up with our other housemate Mal, her sister, and friend at a Thai place down the canal for dinner. The food was incredible and made me wish we had discovered some more of the restaurants in our area. When we got home, the four of us got ready and headed out for our last night. I truly did not feel as though it was the end and we headed to our favorite pub down the street, Flannery’s. The place was packed and made for a great last night to end our time together. We headed back and since Mal had to leave the house at 4:30 for her flight to Paris, we stayed up and saw her off.







The next morning was certainly hard with no sleep and packing up and saying good-bye. Again I said good-bye to Marissa and Kat and felt as though I was simply going away for the weekend to visit a friend or something, not to move out and go back to America. I hurriedly had to run out the door and get a cab to take me to the train station across the city with my huge suitcase. As I passed Camden St., Grafton, Trinity, and O’Connell St., I started to cry and knew things just would not be the same. Soon the cab pulled up to Connolly Station and I went to get my train ticket for Boyle, Co. Roscommon to visit my roommate Helena from Maynooth. I lugged my suitcase onto the train and made myself comfortable, the train ride was about 2.5 hours and as soon as I got there, I was met by Helena and her neighbor. We went into town for pizza and then we were met by her parents who took us back to her house. For the afternoon we hung out and then went to mass during which I had a massive cough attack and had to leave. That night we headed to Carrick on Shannon and had a great time.









On Sunday, Helena’s family went to the Roscommon Football match in Dublin so we simply hung out all day and then that night her neighbor picked me up and drove me to Castlerea to catch the train to Westport, Co. Mayo. Again I had to say good-bye but it did not feel real. When I arrived in Westport, I was met by my cousin Des and his wife Anna and their son Alex. I had not seen them since May so it was great to see them and see how big Alex had gotten. From Westport, we drove to the house that my cousins all share in a “village” called Accony outside Louisburgh. I had been to the house for a week with Des’ brother Kevin a few weeks before, so it was nice to be somewhere familiar. When we arrived, Des’ dad Luke was there and we talked for a bit and then I headed to bed.



The purpose of my trip down to the house was to visit Inishturk…

Tipperary Far Away

After my last day of work on Thursday, I went out to dinner and then to a house where some other people in my program live. A few of my roommates were there too and we hung out for a bit and then headed to O'Donoghue's, which is a pub where they play traditional music. My cousin Kevin had recommended it to me, as well as other multiple sources so I was excited to check it out. O'Donoghue's was also where the Dubliners got their start so I knew it had to be good. By the time we got there the place was packed and the music had already begun. We managed to position ourselves against a wall and tried to obscure anyone's view. The band was two guys with instruments, one with a banjo and the other with a guitar. There was also another guy who was doing the singing. They played many of the classics which I feel like I have known since birth. This band was probably the best I have seen in Dublin yet, they were definitely closer to the good stuff you would find out in the West.



The next event was highly confusing and puzzling----Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the band, singing along and the Bulgarian man next to me asked if I was Spanish. The band took a break and then the singer also asked if I was Spanish. I have no idea what is wrong with everyone in this country, but this has been the second occurrence where people have thought I am Spanish. YES-look at my paler than white skin and my hair. Clearly, I am a native Spaniard. I really do not understand, I thought maybe I'd be mistaken for Irish rather than SPANISH! but apparently to these two men, I was Spanish. They were shocked to find that I was American--really? Was this a joke? Anyways, the singer then insisted that they play Spanish Lady for me...oh dear. It just so happened that the people sitting behind us were all from Spain and they agreed with me that I did not look Spanish, they were just as confused--although that might have been due to their broken English. No matter, my new friend in the band gave me one of their free sandwiches for the mix-up and I was not complaining. Soon though we left and headed home.





The next morning I was off to Tipperary to visit my roommate Brid from Maynooth. I barely made the bus and then traveled from Dublin to Cashel. I had been there once before with Saint Mary's to visit the Rock of Cashel, but I had barely seen the town. Luckily, I got off at the right stop and was met by Brid-we walked for a little bit and visited her mom at work in the bank and then headed out to her house. She lives a few minutes outside Cashel in a small village and lives on a farm where they raise cows and cattle. Brid absolutely loves her dogs Spot and Polly so after hearing so much about them all semester, I was excited when I finally got to meet the loves of her life. We walked around her farm a bit and then made some lunch. Her dad came in from working and I met him as well, although his accent was so thick it was difficult to understand most of what he was saying. Her dad then asked if we wanted to head out on his tractor and why not? So the three of us got into the tractor and went around with him doing what he needed to do. The roads were so bumpy and we were so packed into the tractor that it was basically like a roller coaster ride, but still fun. After our ride, we headed over to her sister's house and walked her crazy little dog, Spud. After a few encounters with some different dogs, we ran back to the house and then went to Clonmel quickly to a shop for her sister. As soon as we got back, an amazing dinner of bacon (different from the American kind) was waiting for us and it was all insanely delicious. As soon as we were finished eating, we hurried to get ready and then picked up two of Brid's friends to go to the cinema and see Toy Story 3. I really didn't know what to expect since I hadn't seen the second and it had been years since I saw the original, but overall it actually wasn't bad. We went back to Brid's after the movie and fell straight asleep.











The next morning we had a traditional fry of sausages, rashers, eggs, potatoes, toast, tomatoes--all my absolute favorite. After breakfast we were so stuffed that we took a short nap, then woke up again and took the dogs for a walk around the farm. We passed the calves and went into a field where there's a ring fort on top of the hill. No big deal, just a fort of trees built by the Celts way back when..they really act like having a historical landmark on your property is no big deal here, I was amazed. They can't tear any of the trees down though because there's a legend that if you do illness or death will fall upon you and that happened, coincidentally, to their neighbor. After the walk, Brid's dad offered to take me out on the tractor again and we went to pick up some hay bales in the field. Another bumpy, but exciting ride was in store for me. As soon as we got back a lunch of lamb was waiting for us and Brid's Granny came for it. We all talked for a bit and then after we cleaned up, it was time for me to head back to Dublin. Brid had to work that night and I needed to work on my internship paper, so her parents drove me to the bus stop and then I got on and headed back.





When I got back my roommates who had stayed in Dublin were going to Messr Maguires for a few drinks so I quickly got ready and then we headed to the quays along the Liffey. The place was fairly full when we got there and we found a table and sat down enjoying some of the house brews they make on their own. We talked for a while and then the music began to blare from the DJ and eventually we headed back home. The next day I passed up the World Festival in Dun Laoghaire to work on my paper and the house had plans to go to the Vat House to hear the band we had seen our first Sunday together. We got ready and then headed to see the band, I couldn't believe this was going to be my last time seeing this band who I had gone to see since March..it was all too weird. As soon as we got there, people were already gathered around and they were putting on a show. Phil, the fiddler, usually isn't too talkative and just sits and plays his fiddle, getting up every so often to show off his skills. However, this night he was in rare form and was putting on the best show I have seen and was making jokes all night. It was a great way to go out and the crowd even demanded an encore at the end--it was great. On the way home three of us decided to duck into Flannery's for a pint thinking it wouldn't be too busy since it was a Sunday. However, there were people everywhere since there had been some matches on during the day and everyone was celebrating. We then headed home to Grove Park..