As many of you already know, I am being sent home early from Ireland due to the corona virus and all of its various effects. However, before I start the sob story, let’s recap my final, fun week.
Fun stuff.
Last Friday, Avery and I went to Salthill to explore. It was beautiful as promised, and the ocean reminded me of home. We popped into a couple thrift stores, had our usual lunch/Bible study date at An Tobar Nua, ate dinner at Papa Rich, and then went to the movie theater to see Pixar’s new movie, Onward. It was a swell day. (Except for the fact that Ireland doesn’t butter their popcorn).
The next night, we had one of our classic movie nights in with our own BUTTERED popcorn, wine, and “Love, Rosie.”
Sunday, Elena, Curtis, and Chris arrived! We went to The King’s Head for lunch and walked around. I cooked dinner for everyone at the boys’ Air BnB while Elena prepared sangria. We played oldies, we danced, we laughed. It was a great reunion.
Chris didn’t like the sangria, hence his darker cup of Guinness 
Monday night, two worlds collided as my home friends met my best friend here, Avery. We went to dinner at Finnigan’s and drank a Guinness, then went out to Tig Coili for a shot of Jameson. We did some Bachata dancing when we got back, laughed some more, and the girls and I sang some early 2000’s worship music on our way back. All the ingredients for a good night, am I right?
Our next big adventure together was Tuesday. We took a (very violently rocking) ferry to Inis Oirr, the smallest Aran Island. There, we saw lots and lots of stone walls, cows, a shipwreck, a few castle-like ruins, and admittedly, residual sea-sickness.
Wednesday morning, Elena and I went to the Cupan Tae to enjoy some “tea for two.” She got the blue petal earl grey and I got what’s festively named “Truffle Kerfuffel.” After that, I showed them around Galway and the Claddagh where we got to take a very picturesque group photo. At 4pm, we went to the Micil Distillery to try some home-brewed Poitin. It was all very adult, listening to the history and sipping on a strong drink.
That night, we cooked in again (courtesy of Elena). We had this idea, which seemed brilliant at the time, to go get shamrock shakes from McDonald’s and spike them for after dinner. Festive, right? If only the shamrock shakes themselves weren’t absolutely disgusting. We discovered this after we poured in the Jameson. Ah, well. We still had some wine that we paired with cheese and bread and we watched a Chris Sanchez favorite, “Hitch.”
After saying goodbye to my visiting friends (the “first goodbye,” if you will), the travel ban was issued and an email was sent. Everyone is being sent home. Therefore, we transition to…
Deep Stuff.
Guys, I’m not going to lie. I’m real sad. For those that know me fairly well, you know that I am a very inside-my-comfort-zone type of gal. Coming to Ireland was huge for me, and given various life events, seemed like Divine Providence. I was so set on “yes, I must be in Ireland for four months,” that when the order to go home was sent, not only was I disappointed, but also guilty. Like, maybe, I messed up God’s will? I was feeling (and still am, but fighting it) like everything is all wrong, it’s all going off course, I’m about to disrupt all the good things going on. And you know what else, besides all that? I have been loving it here. And I wanted to stay.
Everything is so uncertain right now and the state of things, study abroad and otherwise, are all so out of my control. But here’s the thing. This Lent, I told God that He could send me any suffering that He wants to (yeah, I know, smart right? lol). I’ve been reading St. Faustina’s diary, and remembering her words, am comforted. Yeah, kind of seems like it’s all hitting the fan right about now. But God knew I was going to be sent home when He commissioned me to Ireland. He knew the corona virus would outbreak, He knew it would hit just as I became totally comfortable in Galway, and He knew every single thing that would weigh on my heart. He knew and He is with me every step of the way. It’s going to be hard, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to be bad. On the contrary, it’s going to be really, really great. Maybe not the two week self-quarantine, but, you know. C’est la vie.
With that, peace out A16, room 3.
Galway Girl 
Safe travels, Emily.
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