Farewell, Éire!

As I sit here sipping my last pint of Bulmer's Irish Cider ever, I can barely comprehend that I will be leaving Ireland in five hours. Like everyone has said regarding their study-abroad experience, time simply flew by. It's hard to believe that I'm completely done with school until fall quarter. My Literature and Modern Ireland & Contemporary Irish Writing exams went splendidly, but I can't help but feel a little heartbroken that school is over, because this means my time in this wonderful country has come to an end. However corny this may appear, I decided to compile a list of all the great things I will truly miss about this place. Here goes...

I will miss...

...the homeless Irish drunkards who hang out on the corner of Copley Street

....as well as their corpulent sheepdog who snoozes on the concrete, eats out of chip bags, and drinks puddles all day long

...the lady at the coffee house who gives me free cups of coffee at 8am when I figure out in a sleepy stupor I've forgotten my wallet again (oh yes, this has happened more than once)

....Step dancing lessons and my fellow dancers

....An brog. Drunken shenanigans. Self explanatory.

....Critiquing advertisements, deep conversations, and ruminations on life (general bonding) while watching Irish television with Dan

...nightly Dexter gatherings

....being able to get a beer at noon anywhere

...sleeping in until noon six out of seven days of the week

....learning to cook, thereby shedding my destined role as a "spinster" (-Dan)

....not having midterms

....not working

....a.k.a the ease of the Irish college educational system

....playing French drinking games with Toumtam

...conversing with Fergel, the most awesome of all bartenders, at The Corner House (the pub we have deemed our own)

...the manageable size of this lovely city

...fiddle music floating through the apartment every day

....being bundled up at all times

....blending in for once with my ghostly white skin

...learning about Irish literature from the experts

...reading Irish literature, while drinking stout, while surrounded by Irish accents, thereby feeling very Irish all of the time

....being gratefully interrupted by Rebecca with her guitar to be serenaded with Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Crosby, Stills & Nash, and The White Stripes tunes.

...dessert every night!

...Irish musicians playing live Irish traditional music, and being able to say that my flatmate can play along with them

...hiking all around southern Ireland with Kasey, Britt, and Laura

...innapropriate, yet strangely liberating conversations with Kasey and Dan

....being able to get anywhere within the country in six hours on Bus Eireann

...The English Market making my mouth water on the daily

...Tesco vodka (riiighhtt...)

...taking weekend trips to Dublin and being doted upon by mama bear Nicole

....above all...the people who have become my family in this wonderful place: Dan, Toumtam, Rebecca, Kasey, and JQ

So, farewell Éire, and ciao to my next big adventure: Florence! This summer will entail an epic trip to Amsterdam and touring all around Italy, including Sicily, Capri, and Cinque Terre. In my heart, this blog will always remain dedicated to my experiences in Ireland, but who knows, I might feature a couple more posts this summer, so stayed tuned!
xoxo

Easter, Irish style

It's already the end of April, can you believe it!? It was hard to fathom that another holiday was approaching. Yet, I was able to celebrate Easter this year in a more grandiose fashion than I ever have back home in Sacramento. Somehow I was goaded into attending Catholic mass in the morning, which wasn't a horrendous experience. On the contrary, it gave me time to reflect and share a religious experience with my Catholic friends, Kasey and JQ. Going to church on Easter is apparently a huge affair in Ireland, and the church by our apartment was packed. After mass, we went back to Copley Court and cooked scrambled eggs and banana pancakes. A delicious brunch, indeed!

Our local Catholic church

Duck eggs for breakfast...yum?

We had heard about a festival going on at our favorite local brewery in town, called The Franciscan Wells, so we went there and tried a variety of delicious beers ranging from Bavarian and wheat beers to chocolate brews. After filling our grateful stomachs with pints of beer, we headed back home to paint eggs, as all celebrators of Easter should do. I haven't done this since I was probably twelve or thirteen years old, so it was an altogether nostalgic and fun experience. We were all biding our time until dinner, which I was most excited about the whole day. Kasey's mom was gracious enough to give her money to buy a honey-baked ham for all of us to have for Easter dinner. Kasey, JQ, and Rebecca went above and beyond their usually phenomenal culinary skill and made a delectable meal, which reminded me of my mom's own cooking. They baked the ham with a pineapple glaze, made green bean casserole, and mashed potatoes. Candles were lit, and all!

Rebecca painting away!

Easter dinner with my Irish family

Although the day was filled with merrymaking, it became hard to ignore the palpable sadness that had befallen the group. All of us are starting to really miss home as we near four months of being away, and I think that such a family holiday as Easter reminded us of our increasing homesickness. Although I consider all of them to be my family, as well as my friends, I definitely felt this same melancholia in realizing that I still have three more months until I get to go home. I just try and remind myself that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and to fully embrace these emotions, even if they entail a little gloominess.

Ciao, Belllaaa!

...can't tell you how many times I heard that walking down the streets of Rome. Let's just say the Italian men are...friendly (haha)

And so begins my telling of a crazy week spent in one of the most historically significant places in the world...none other than Rome, Italy. I'm sure Gram & Gramps will be happy to hear that I made it back to the city after our big Mediterranean Cruise trip a few years back. It was even more amazing this time around, and I think this had a lot to do with the fact that I got to stay with two of my best friends: Irene and Caitlin, who are both studying abroad there at different universities. Other than getting to see my best friends again, I think what I enjoyed most about Rome was how culturally immersed I felt there. Instead of the largely tourist-y path I took in Paris as one staying in a hostel, in Rome I was able to live in really quaint, authentic Italian apartments and roam around as I pleased. I also got to meet Irene's Italian friends and see their ways of living, which was so great. One of Irene's friends in particular was extremely nice, and actually grew up in San Salvador, El Salvador before moving to Rome. Once I learned this I pounced on the opportunity to bombard him with questions about the country and teach me a little Español, since I will be visiting in December (I hope I wasn't too abrasive!)

Also, I must mention the food. Oh. my. goodness. Let's just say I was in food heaven surrounded by pizza, pasta, bread, gelato, more pizza...you catch my drift. I knew that I was going to go through food withdrawals, if you will, upon my return to Ireland. By the way, still recovering.

The first half of the week was spent with Irene in her apartment in Trastevere. She lived right by the cutest piazza (I forget the actual name of the piazza) and a pizza place that became my second home. This place also sold these rice balls that had rice, melted mozzarella, and tomatoes in them which were amazing. We visited the Pantheon and strolled by the ancient Roman ruins, while Irene gave me a crash course in Roman Art History. As I walked around, I was highly aware of how loud of a city Rome appeared to be next to Paris and how many more people seemed to be walking around. This was probably because the streets are so narrow, but it was all so exciting and different. Interestingly, I got a lot more incriminating stares from Italians than I did from Parisians, which really caught me off guard. Apparently shorts, flip flops, and dresses are no-no's in the springtime, because Italians dress for the seasons, not the weather (a direct quote from Irene). And let me tell you, it was hot for April! Irene wanted to show me the nightlife, so we went to a couple of her favorite bars and clubs. One night, I had the lucky opportunity to tag along with Irene and her roommates for a night on the town. One of Irene's roommates is dating an Italian who apparently has a lot of money, because he got us into this swanky club and took us back to his beach-house villa about thirty minutes outside of Rome. We woke up that next morning and laid out on the beach...it was a beautiful and relaxing day after a night of partying.

Outside the Pantheon

The expansive ancient ruins

A perfect day for the beach

The bridge over the Tiber River leading to Irene's apartment

Nutella gelato...mmm, mmm, mmm!

The next half of the week I stayed with Caitlin at her apartment, which was also in Trastevere and a short five-to-ten minute walk from Irene's, in which I could navigate all by myself (score!) My stay with Caitlin was comparatively more laid-back, and we did a bit more of the tourist-y stuff, which was so much fun. We walked to the Vatican and I finally got to see the inside of the Coliseum, which I didn't during my last visit because the line was so long. This time, Caitlin and I got right in and it was amazing to see the structuralism of the building. Caitlin and I joked that it would be pretty funny if they had live re-enactments of Romans strolling around in their togas and mock gladiator fights. I was trying my hardest to imagine what life could have looked like here so long ago, but it was next to impossible. In retrospect, I think I was very enthralled with everything I saw because it was so old.

The Vatican

Inside the Coliseum

Rome's version of the l'Arc de Triomphe

Caprese salad + Ciabatta bread= a perfect lunch

All in all, it was awesome to be back in Rome and see how Irene and Caitlin have been living for the past three months. They really have mastered the layout of the city and can consider themselves big-city girls now, it is amazing to see their transformation. I think that in albeit different ways, they have changed and grown just as much as I have abroad. 

Unfortunately, within the last two days of my stay in Rome I came down with a nasty case of bronchitis and have been in my sickbed for the past couple days. I have to say that after so much traveling, I'm thoroughly glad to be back in the quietude and cleanliness of Ireland. I have two full weeks to recover and recuperate before I have to start studying for finals. I can't complain much, though...I did just get to travel to Paris and Rome!

Paris, mais oui!

Bonjour, et je suis désolée pour le retard! I was browsing my blog and realized I haven't posted for almost a month now. I think it is due time to relate to you my whirlwind of traveling adventures I have experienced for the past two weeks. I'll start with Paris, my favorite metropolis in Europe I have seen thus far :)

In traveling to Paris, I really had no idea how the trip would pan out. I had arranged this excursion with two of my friends in my EAP program a while back, and I hadn't seen them since the start of my program around three months ago. So I would essentially be traveling around with two girls I barely knew in a foreign city where I had the equivalent of probably a toddler's knowledge of the language. Turns out this was the best decision I ever made, because Courtney had already been to Paris and knew how to use le métro quite well, which made for seamless and stress-free planning (well, relatively speaking.)

The first day was spent roaming around the streets of Paris, visiting the Louvre, as well as Notre Dame cathedral. The Louvre was quite daunting, because there were so many genres and works of art that I couldn't be seen in just one day. I remember walking around and wishing I had someone like Irene with me, who as an Art History major could tell me their significance. Notre Dame cathedral was beautiful, and we happened to walk in as mass was in session, so that was quite an experience. The surrounding gardens were in full bloom, and you could see many couples strolling through the park hand in hand, or sitting under cherry blossom trees together. The stories are true...Paris has to be the most romantic city in the world (sigh). I hope that one day when I'm in a long-term relationship, I can come back to this city and experience all of these little romantic nuances.

The view from outside the window of our hostel: a Parisian l'école

My first taste of cuisine française began with goat cheese and bacon tartines

Outside of the Louvre

The renowned woman(?) herself

La Venus de Milo

My favorite relic from the museum: a leaflet from the ancient Egyptian Book of the Dead scrolls. So cool!

In le jardin de Notre Dame

The second day was even more jam-packed. We woke up early and toured the Palais de Versailles and le Jardin Royal, walked around the base of la Tour Eiffel, and later that night we walked by le Moulin Rouge and had drinks at the famous Chat Noir bar in downtown Paris. We sat right up front by the musician/singer and I think he knew we were American because he played some classics that had us belting out the lyrics and dancing...it was a great night!

The gates of the Palace of Versailles

The Queen's luxurious bed chamber

The Royal Gardens (did Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette really need this much land?)

Just another sunny day in Paris

 

We felt so français with our wine and crème brûlée!

The last day we decided to take an elevator to the top of la Tour Eiffel (as all tourists do), go to the top of l'Arc de Triomphe (which I had no idea you could do), and end the evening by climbing up to the little tucked-away city of Montmartre at the top of Paris.

From the top of the Eiffel Tower

L'Arc de Triomphe

I didn't edit the coloring in this picture, there was literally a beautiful blue tinge to the night when overlooking Paris from Montmartre hill. This was probably my favorite place in Paris.

For many years I've learned all about this famous dish in French class, and I was finally able to try un steak-frites in the country! Deeeelish.

Overall, it was wonderful to be back in France again and view the country with older and perhaps, wiser eyes. I don't consider myself a big-city kind of girl, but I must admit that Paris whisked me away with its beautiful and intriguing people, its history, and culinary culture. At night it was a spectacle to merely people watch the girls with their cigarettes, chic coats, and short dresses speaking French at rapid pace getting onto the metro for a night out. I thought that as an American, being in Paris would mean furtive stares and attitude from Parisians, who are known to be the most judgmental of Americans in France. Surprisingly, every Parisian I communicated with was so nice and encouraged me to practice my French (which I'm sure sounded atrocious to them). That is the main thing I loved about being in France...being able to use the little French I've learned in high school and college. Even by the third day, I felt that my pronunciation had improved from hearing French being spoken around me for three whole days...I loved it! Even though I'm so happy I chose Ireland as my travel-abroad destination, I think that if I could go back in time I should have looked into language immersion somewhere in France. Alas, I'm just glad I could could go to the heart of France and indulge myself in a great weekend!

So you wanna hear about the authentic St. Patrick's Day experience?

Happy late St. Patrick's Day! I've been swamped with studying and essay-writing, so now I finally have a chance to sit down and tell you all about my St. Patrick's Day in Ireland... what some would say is the "real" experience.

I would like to start off by saying that I actually partied less here than I usually do in the States. The day was dedicated more to cooking and socializing rather than getting inebriated beyond all coherence. Don't worry, Irish car bombs were still involved in the nighttime events :)

Commence cooking breakfast at 10am!

Our exquisite meal: Chocolate chip pancakes, Smithwick's (beer) potatoes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and Irish coffees!

The view of the Cork parade from JQ's deck

Downtown Cork...I've never seen it so packed!

The crew at Reardan's (it's 5pm somewhere!)

A bonafide Irish sunset. (Photo cred: Rebecca!)

Like most things in Ireland, St. Patrick's Day was very laid-back. You could see throngs of families with their children hanging out in pubs all day long, which was quite an interesting sight. The day was mostly spent eating, drinking good beer, and going out at night. I even made guacamole and fried chips from scratch (thank you, Kate!) for snack food and chicken tacos the week before. It's happening...I'm starting to really enjoy cooking!

It's hard to grasp that I'm in my last week of school. Today I had my last Step Dancing class in preparation for our exam next week, and I'm still mourning the experience. We were paired off with the partners that we will dance with in front of the examiners and did a kind of mock-performance. I almost forgot how much I love performing in front of an audience and how much I thrive off of that pressure. I feel so comfortable with all three of the dances now, especially the hornpipe. After class ended, our teacher Peggy was telling us the history of this dance and it only added to my pride in taking up Step Dancing in the first place. Apparently in 1912, the first Step Dancing competition took place in Cork and women came forward to perform the hornpipe, which was seen as uncouth for ladies to partake in during that time in history. Ever since then, only women have been allowed to perform the hornpipe in competitions, so in some oddly relatable way I feel that I have a lot to uphold next Monday. I was also talking to a fellow dancer and she told me that Peggy (who I estimate to be in her 80s) was a national Step Dancing champion for Ireland in her 20s and even danced in the ceremony celebrating British withdrawal from Ireland in 1938. It is a beautiful thing to witness the strength of a woman who has carried her love for dance with her into her 80s, and will only stop once she's grown too old to stand. I can only hope that in old age, I will be just as vivacious and graceful as her. This has been just another learning experience in Ireland that I will take with me and remember for the rest of my life.

I was talking to my flatmate about his fiddle-playing the other day, and he related that he feels extremely lucky to have found something he can completely lose himself in. As I descended the hill from the UCC music building where I have my dance practices, it dawned on me that I've found this in dancing. I may not have amazing technique, or even maintained a fraction of the flexibility I used to have, but I can honestly say that I love it and never want to stop. I wish I could really detail how I feel when I dance, but I think the best way to impart the experience is that I'm completely relaxed and immersed in this otherworldly place that is devoid of judgment or constraint. I'm sure this has been a huge factor of my happiness in living here. Dan and I have also voluntarily decided to start doing a creative-writing type exercise where we periodically exchange a piece of creative writing and critique each other on it (this is what happens when you throw two English major nerds together in a living situation, in addition to constant pun-age and word play). I'm working on parodying a specific poetic style at the moment. Before writing this blog, I also sat down with my other flatmate who is a French-speaking, Computer Science major (talk about opposite end of the spectrum) and vocally edited his Computer Science thesis paper for a big project he's been working on all year long. It was a really effective way to critique and gave a me a good opportunity to hone my editing skills. I think that in addition to the dancing and writing, I've been thoroughly enjoying editing my flatmates' papers and could really see myself doing this for a living. 

...and the self-realizations just keep on commin'...

I'm finding that this whole study abroad blog is starting to morph into one big journal outlet, but I think I'm okay with that.

Next week is Paris, and after that, Rome! Get ready for lots of description of my travels in Europe (it'll be my first time traveling out of Ireland since I've arrived here). I betcha can't tell just how elated I am. Till next time!

How to train your body to loath you (while still having fun, of course!)

One may ponder the most effective way to disable one's own body. Well, have no fear, I have a step-by-step guide on how to make your muscles scream, your legs cramp up, and your feet lose all functionality due to blisters and calluses. It's pretty simple...

Step One: Spend your day sitting on a bus for four hours, then walking around a city for a couple more hours, then trekking to the ocean.

Step Two: Take another three hour bus up a winding mountain, then hike up cliffs for another two hours. Miss the bus back, so take a superfluously long tour bus (let's estimate about four hours).

Step Three: Once getting back to the city, take another four hour bus just to get home. Shower in a rush and fall into bed.

Step Four: Wake up at the crack of dawn and take a three hour bus ride. Hike to the base of a mountain. Climb to the first peak. Brief rest. Climb to the second peak. Your lungs are bursting now. Climb to the final, third peak. Collapse in a heap and drink your body's volume in water. You've just conquered the second highest mountain in Ireland, at a height of 840m. Bravo, but you've still got to descend and walk three miles back to the bus. Not to mention a thirty minute walk back to your apartment once you've been dropped off at the stop. Is a shower really necessary at this point?

Step Five (and you thought there couldn't possibly be more steps): Wake up early, peel yourself out of bed, walk in a blind stupor to 8 AM class. Stare longingly at neighbor's coffee. Trek up to the music building (a good mile long walk up into the hills) for an hour of Step Dancing, in which the teacher feels any break is entirely unnecessary with a final examination coming up.

I've just described to you my jam-packed weekend in a nutshell (it really was glorious, despite the exhaustion I'm still recuperating from!) Galway was just gorgeous...it reminded me of an Irish version of Santa Cruz; a very artsy, alternative beach town. Kasey and I had a lot of fun exploring the city, eating their renowned fish n chips, having a tea party at a local tea shop, and even playing with a chocolate lab we encountered on the beach (we're having serious animal withdrawals). I also stopped into a jeweler and bought a famous sterling silver Claddagh ring, which symbolizes love, friendship, and loyalty in Irish culture.

Touching the Atlantic

Our buddy for the day. He even did a bit of diving!

Downtown Galway

Kasey and I had our own little tea party complete with Galway cream tea and scones.

You can't get any more rustic than this, the wallpaper is literally peeling off in this pub. Oh, how I love you, Ireland.

The best fish n chips I've ever tasted.

Saturday was spent at the Cliffs of Moher, in County Kerry. I thought the bus would drop us off at barren land and we would get to explore the cliffs ourselves, but it turns out it was quite a touristy attraction. This was a little disappointing, but understandable, because the scenery was breathtaking. In true Irish (uncommunicative) fashion, Bus Eireann never told us that they had stopped their 14:30 pick up time at the Cliffs, so we were temporarily stranded and had to catch a random tour bus back to Galway.

Kicking back at the Cliffs of Moher.

Looking down, down, down...

It turned out to be a beautiful, sunny day.

Words honestly can't describe my final hike with the Mountaineering Club on Sunday. It was altogether torturous climbing not just one, but three mountains, yet I can say this was the most fulfilling experience of my life. Sounds like a lofty statement, but I have never been that challenged physically, mentally, and spiritually. I describe this on a spiritual plane because the moment we reached the third peak, Mount Brandon at a height of 840m (2,755ft), I reverted to a state of complete calm and mental blankness. I'm sure it was the endorphins mixed with the high altitude, but I've never had that much psychological clarity and perspective on my life. To add to the experience, we hit the top of the peak right as the sun set over Dingle Peninsula. We had to climb the narrow ridge of the peak to descend, and that was so awe-inspiring to look down its face and realize that my life could end in an instant. I think that being surrounded by towering pieces of topography and rock formations really made me perceive my relative insignificance in this world. Again, it's hard to communicate how I felt in that moment or really even capture the images of the hike in mere digital photography. Not only did I have a personal epiphany, I also connected strongly with my three other friends; Kasey, Laura, and Britt. We had to rely on one another to keep ourselves motivated and hydrated to successfully complete the hike, and putting that trust in others is a real risk you have to take. I'm so thankful for their guidance, and honestly don't think I would've made it through this journey without their hilarity and determination. Talk about an experience of a lifetime.

A view of Dingle Peninsula from the bus stop.

The crew: Kasey, Britt, Laura, and I.

The black mare that wouldn't stop following us in the beginning of our hike...all he wanted to do was play!

The base

Climbing to the first peak.

We literally climbed this wall of rock. I still can't believe it.

View of the peninsula from the second peak.

Climbing to the third peak. We were completely submerged in fog.

Rory and Britt

Finally reaching the third peak, Mount Brandon, greeted with an Irish sunset. Amazing.

Climbing over the steep peak to begin our descent.

The descent...nearly twisted my ankle!

So, all in all, quite an amazing weekend. My feet are still killing me as a write, but it was completely worth it for everything I got to see. I feel that I really should write a manifesto for the fledgling hiker seeking exhilaration and, well... total exhaustion. It's bittersweet to realize that I won't have any more of these hikes to kick my butt, but I think my body will be thanking me in due time!