My flight took off from Boston at 9:40pm. After a very uncomfortable six hour flight with little to no sleep and a five hour time jump, I arrived in Dublin airport and started orientation straight away. There were a couple snafus, like some unruly luggage and weather that leaves curly hair in a permanent state of frizz, but mostly it’s been exciting. The orientation group is happily smaller than I expected, and I connected with a couple friends immediately. The past two days have been a small amount of orientation logistics, but the majority of the time has been spent exploring the city. There are street performers at almost every turn, making strolls through the city feel quite cinematic at times. Once, as I was coming around a corner, I could hear the theme of Harry Potter being played on some Irish instrument I don’t know the name of, which made me very happy. A couple girls and I went out to a small pie shop on the first night and ate “Beef and Guinness” pies for dinner. Afterwards, we stumbled into a pub that had an improv-comedy show; I drank my first Irish Guinness!
It’s been fun to scratch the surface of Ireland’s unique identity. One very strange cultural difference that has been a whirlwind to get used to is the Irish use of the word “craic” (pronounced “crack”). Known to Americans by its classification of a deadly drug, in Ireland, “having a craic,” or “want to have some craic?” means something more like “having a good time.” If you ever travel to Ireland, and someone asks you for or offers you crack, don’t worry: they’re being nice. An extremely important part of the Irish identity is Gaelic sports, specifically hurling and Gaelic football. Today, as part of orientation, we traveled to a Gaelic sports center and learned both games. If it were videotaped, it could have easily become a viral Youtube video; we silly Americans just couldn’t wrap our heads around the rules of these intensive sports! It was very fun, being terrible and running around and learning about something so important to the people here.
As beautiful as Dublin is, I am eager to leave for Galway tomorrow. Living out of a suitcase and sleeping in a hotel has me feeling like I’m on a vacation; then, I am hit with the realization that I’m going to be here another four months. I am excited to settle into where home will be, to start classes and find a good parish and get into a rhythm. I’ve only seen a sliver of this island, and can already see the beauty I am in for and the explorations to come. However, I have to admit: I miss Little Rhody.
Galway Girl 