The Beard Abroad

Back at John Carroll I lived down the hall from the bathroom. When I had to use the restroom I had to get up from what I was doing, put on some shoes, make sure I had the key to my room, and hope to God that the bathrooms were somewhat clean.

Here though my bathroom is attached. To my room. My own bathroom where I can bring things in with me and I won’t be judged. The only downside that I used to think was how small it was. 

The sink, toilet, and shower and are so close together that when you brush your teeth you end up brushing up against the toilet, and when you use the toilet you end up washing your legs in the shower.

This morning however I was so tired that I felt the need to sit down while I brushed my teeth. It worked like a charm. I was at the perfect height to do both. So I decided to push it a bit further. Can I begin to shower at the same time? Oh, I can.

Now, one of my complaints with the housing here is a way to speed up my morning routine, allowing me to sleep just a little bit longer. And what could be better than that?

When people think of Ireland they are often taken to rolling plains and sheep roaming across the hillside. This is very true. If you know where to go you can find these images. If this is what you want then The Coast is the place for you, where the people choose to live a few years in the past and the sheep are just as free as the humans.

However, I’ve since learned that even though it may not always LOOK like this, you can always find people who have chosen the comfort of yester year.

Exhibit A. Tractors have just as much right on the road as the Audi’s and BMW’s.

Exhibit B. People will drive these tractors anywhere. Including the walking path.

Exhibit C. People will park these tractors anywhere. Including in front of dorm buildings.

Because this is a common occurrence, NHNT and I have gotten into the habit of calling this as we see them. When the sun is in the sky and it begins to rain or when we see a tractor holding up traffic we saw just what it is:

Ireland.

Since I’ve never been abroad I find it strange to have to deal with Immigration. It was always something that I had heard about in the news and I know that it is an issue in politics. It was something that I never thought I would have to deal with though.

I had to sign up for a meeting, wait for a call, go to the police station in town, and get my Immigration Card so that I was officially a resident of Ireland.

As a Cub Scout I remember going to the police station and being put into the system. I got my fingers prints taken, pictures taken, the whole ordeal. Since then I’ve always put finger printing and crime together.

I went through the whole process again. Except this time it was a Police uniform I was looking at but a Garda uniform. Pictures were taken, my papers were studied, finger prints were taken, etc. I had done nothing wrong but felt like I had.

I guess it is American pride, or blindness, but without thinking I assumed that I could live here without an Immigration Card and travel wherever and whenever I wanted; because I was American.

Studying abroad: a growing experience.

I’ve been in Ireland for a little over a month and while I don’t think I’m picking up any kind of accent, I am picking up the lingo. 

It’s small things honestly, such as calling fries ‘chips,’ and chips ‘crisps.’ Such as saying ‘cheers’ instead of thank you or saying that things are ‘class’ instead of good.

However, even though I know what all these things mean I still find myself slipping into what I know. Into my American slang. I joke about the words with family and friends and use them when I talk to them, but when I’m confronted by an Irish person out in Dublin or on the coast, I use my American slang, forcing me back into the role of a tourist.

When I left for my first year of college I was worried that being so far away from home would hinder my ability to take part in my family’s life. However, I discovered that with planning and more than a week of notice I was able to find a way to be there for all the important moments in my family’s life.

While I’m still only a flight away from home, I’m finding that the difference is not distance, but the time difference. This has been the hardest part of living away from home. I leave my laptop to the time back home so that when I look at it I am able to see where they are, what they’re doing, etc.

I’m stuck in two time zones when it comes to planning. I have to take into account where my roommates are, the noise they will make, or when I eat dinner before I can think about when to Skype home. Then I have to consider where my parents will be, what they are doing, and if they’ll be home.

I’ve had an interview and had to change plans because of classes that conflict with my life back home. When I finally worked it out I found that by the time I was interviewing for the job my day was nearly done while my interviewer was only just getting in.

While it is a simple thing to do, adding 5 hours to any plans, it still feels as if I am in the middle of two worlds, my life here and back home.

Ever since I was young I told myself that one day I would be a world traveler. I loved to plan things out and I loved the idea of going out of my comfort zone for a while. Well it’s harder than it sounds. You have to take into account so many things when you think about travelling:

Where you’ll fly in, how to get around when you’re there, what to see, where you’ll stay, how long you’ll stay, etc.

Unlike other Americans we’ve met, our trips and visits weren’t finalized before we left. This is both good and bad. It offers us the freedom to choose the location and the time, but also forces us to make plans on a shoe string budget.

Thankfully, unlike other Americans, my travel companion, NHNT, has family and friends all over the world and more importantly, where I want to visit.

This idea of having family or friends around the world that are willing to allow house guests is a new and exciting idea for me that I would like to experience

When I decided to visit Ireland to Study Abroad I honestly didn’t think about what classes I would take. The determining factor for me was the idea of rolling plains, sheep roaming around the streets, and the kind people. Not once did classes play into my decision.

This was a mistake. When it comes down to it there aren’t a lot of classes for people in the Study Abroad program to take. European classes take an entirely different approach to their university years. When you get accepted into a university you choose a major and then you stick with that major until you get your degree. If you decide to change then you start all over again. From the beginning.

When I was told this I was pretty confused because I’ve known people that have changed their major multiple times and are still almost guaranteed to graduate on time. Although I’ve noticed that this completely changes the dynamic in the classroom.

  Other students in my classes are locked in. They know that everything they learn while in university will have some sort of significance in their careers. Everything they learn builds onto the next idea. They don’t have “core” classes where they learn the ideologies of other religions when they’re Engineers or Mathematicians. They learn the main philosophical questions if they’re philosophy majors.

Now, I’m a firm believer in the idea of a rounded education and I’ll always prefer the Socratic style of higher education that I have received at John Carroll, but it’s because of that learning that I started out having troubles here.

Our teachers expect us to know what the first semester teacher taught. In my Philosophy of Religion class we went to tutorial and were asked to recall an idea that was taught by Aristotle. However, in my Philosophy 101 class back home I only learned Socrates. That’s it. I wasn’t given any other ideas. While a lot of them are overlapping I was never taught the overlapping sections.

Myself and the other Americans in the class sat dumbfounded in the front row wondering what to do and when we were asked if we had learned this we had to say no. We were then asked what we DID learn. We all learned different things. Three different American classes, all Philosophy 101, all different material covered.

While I love John Carroll and the Jesuit style of teaching, it’s doing me no favors here.

When it comes to classes there isn’t a large change between the way teachers teach, the way students act, or the way you take notes. However, as a student coming from America to a country in the European Union, one thing stands out dramatically: They don’t care about America.

What I mean by that is that in America when we look at literature, philosophy, design, etc, we put things in context of things that happened in America. A very limited time frame in the grand scheme of things. Here in Ireland however, things are put into the context of great European events.

The Italian Renaissance, the French Revolution, the German Enlightenment, etc.

1380-1600, 1550-1650, 1789-1799, etc.

In America we hear about things like the Civil War (1861-1865), the American Renaissance (1876-1917), and the Roaring Twenties (1920s).

Hopefully this is something that I will get used to quickly because as of right now when they mention a European period of time I have to look back at my timeline sheet.

Ah well, this is a growing experience.

Orientation for a student studying abroad is about as important as a student studying at home.

If you don’t know how to use the internet, you should go. If you don’t know how to read a map, you should go. If you don’t have roommates who are from the area, you should go.

The Orientation, while a quick test in my ability to comprehend the Irish accent was an experience that I have had before, namely my first week of college. The leaders of the school get up in front of the fresh faces and explain to them all of the things they have already been told.

Granted, it wasn’t without its merits. One thing that it did tell us was how to extend our time here abroad. When you go through Immigration to enter a country and you are deemed “worthy,” you are given a month to find the Garda station (police station) and extend your time.

They gave a very detailed, albeit flustered, description of how to do this.

Which brings me to my point:

Learn some lingo before you go. Maybe not slang per say, you can pick that up as you go, but know what normal words mean.

In Europe, classes are called modules. Police are Garda. Bars are pubs. Fun is craic. (sounds just like Crack) if you learn a few of these things before you go you won’t have to try to translate English as you go.