"Um, Excuse Me?"

I can see mountains way in the distance from the third floor of my row house in Finglas, Dublin. I have a room by myself, although right across the hall from me is a Japanese exchange student who is learning English at a school on the other side of the city. We have funny, clipped conversation, but it’s nice to have another student here with me.

“You take the bus today?” she asked me on my first morning.

“Yes, yes. I think I take the same one you do.”

“Same bus?”

“Yah...the same as you. Do you take the 140?” I ask her.

“Yes. Bus 140.”

“Yes me too! Maybe I’ll walk with you to the bus stop since you know where it is.”

“Walk with me to bus?”

“Yes, because you know where it is.”

“Yes, yes,” she says smiling.

My room.

The window that stays open all the time because Ireland is hot.

Row houses from the window.

Charlestown Shopping and Apartments from my window. Behind them are mountains, but it's too cloudy here to really see them.

I made it to the bus stop just fine. In fact, I even guessed the right stop to get off at because I had Google-Earthed Phibsboro, Dublin so many times. Unfortunately Google Earth never found 26a Phibsboro Place. And neither could I.

For an hour I walked up and down Phibsboro Road looking for Phibsboro Place. I asked several students, parents, elderly, two bartenders, two convenience store workers, a mechanic, the owner of a gas station, and an off duty taxi driver. None of them knew where it was either.

Finally I asked an old man who was pacing outside of a pub.

“Um, excuse me have you ever heard of Phibsboro Place? I’m looking for City Wide News.” At the point I’m forty minutes late and hate the fact that I’m wearing heels and carrying a 10 pound suitcase.

“Yer. No, no I ‘aven’t but yer know who might? Maybe the bartender here. I drink here all the time you know? Let’s go see if he’s ever ‘eard of this place yer talking of.”

Of course the bartender had not.

“Well, hold on here deary. Here comes my good friend Pete. See I told Pete I’d meet him here I did. HEY Pete! This young lady’s got a question fer yah. And no it’s not to marry yah,” he said laughing at his little joke.

Pete was about 65 or so as well and turned to face me. “Can I help yah?” I repeated my question again. He didn’t know either but told me the post office would have to know and directed me to there. An old woman who had been half-listening to my questions was also walking that way.

“I show yah where to go. Haven’t heard of that place myself, either!”

The people in the post office didn’t know, but THANK GOD, a postman loading mail out back told me where I needed to go. He was very nice and even walked me a bit up the street so I could see where I would need to turn. From what I counted he was the 18th person I had asked.

“You know, Phibsboro place is a bit of a misnomer,” he said. “There’s no sign for that road!”

I found the turn, and sure enough, there was no sign. In fact, it wasn’t so much a road as it was a gated community.

Yes, problem number two: a gate.

Luckily, a car drove through and I snuck in behind them. Of course this brought me to my last predicament: where was City Wide News? This was like a neighborhood! I rang the bell for #26, but realizing that was an apartment, I quickly walked away. No one was home anyways.

Finally I looked up. There was a pair of little iron stairs that led to more doors. Of course these also had more buzzers and locks, but I saw a sign and knew I was in the right place. Exactly at that moment someone walked outside, realized I was lost, and thought I had to be the new intern.

City Wide News is written in yellow on the windows. That was my only clue. Picture taken from my bus stop.

“Yes! Yes. I am sorry I was late! I got ridiculously lost.”

“No prob, it’s a hard place to find. Just follow me now.”

I walked up to a large yellow room with about seven people at different desks. I was quickly introduced to a very friendly group of editors and the advertisement crew. Then I met the other interns (yes other interns…YAY). We all share the kitchen table and have free access to the coffee and tea. Mirjam is from Switzerland, and Alex is from Italy. Both of them have been here several weeks so they could show me what to do on my first day.

Most importantly, they gave me the code for the gate and the door. Mirjam then let me follow her to the supermarket for lunch, and explained some details of the job. She and Alex were also nice enough to take me into the city after work for a few hours.Good first day! After I found the place…

Interesting Irish Things So Far:

• It doesn’t get dark here until nearly 11 o’clock in the summer.

• French fries, or chips, served on a plate are sometimes eaten with a fork…opps.

• Everywhere I go there are these instant water boilers, and instant coffee. Besides Starbucks, I haven’t seen a coffee maker.

• My host-brother says words like “that’s grand”, “that’s class”, and “that’s sound” when something is good.

• I do not like sparkling water – I accidently picked that up instead of bottled water. Yuck.

Just Get There

“And what are ya here fer miss?” “Business.” I smile. That sounds grown-up. “Business? Really now?” The man from Immigration eyed my tie-dye shirt. “Ok. An internship.” That still sounds grown up right? “Aw right Miss. Fitzgerald. You have fun now,” he smiled and said those infamous words I wanted to hear. “Welcome to Ireland.”
I felt like I was in a movie…I was in another country and Ireland was mine to do what I wanted with it. What an adventure… “I Have Confidence” from The Sound of Music was on repeat in my mind.
Then, of course, reality kicked in at full force. It was a whirlwind. Get my baggage, change dollars into Euros. Where’s the bathroom? How do I watch my luggage when the two suitcases won’t fit in the stall? Coffee coffee coffee. Excuse me, where can I find a taxi? Sir how much will this cost? You don’t know where that address is? No I don’t either that’s why I’m asking you! What are you saying…that is not English. This must be the house! Mrs. Hayes? AH! Nice to meet you too. Yes, traveling was fine. I love your house! This is my room? You are going to work so I can sleep? I love Ireland already. My host family has been so sweet to me. My room is great. And I start work tomorrow. I’ll update more…after SLEEP.

An Ode to Packing

I did not know I had so many clothes,

Or so many shoes and so many bows.

The scarves and the coats add up too,

Oh what is my poor little luggage to do?

Then come the books, jewelry, and bags,

Still the more I add, the more my suitcase sags.

Two months abroad seems quite long,

But not wearing cute clothes seems just wrong!

What about my computer and iPod and phone?

How will these fit? It is simply unknown…

Oh wait…I see the light.

I know the solution for my flight!

I will swim to the island, no take a boat!

And then bring all my objects to keep afloat.

Because I need that black dress and some skirts,

And I want to bring about 30 shirts.

Of course I’ll wear heels, flats, and maybe tennis shoes?

There just is NO WAY for me to choose.

Excuse me, what did you say?

A cruise to Ireland would take 12 days!

Well. That changes things a little bit.

My wardrobe just took a hard hit.

I guess two 50 pound bags will have to do.

And a carry on, and personal bag too ;)

*This is a joke. I am not an idiot. But packing is literally making me crazy.*

Oh dear. At least it's all clean.

Tick-Tock

Time is ticking.

I have less than a week to pack, organize, and prepare for the trip to Ireland. I’ve also become a perpetual list-taking-note-maker. I’m nervous, I’m excited; I’m ready, I’m not; I’m organized and yet a complete mess. But, this is what I expected.

I briefly spoke with my host mother on the phone for about three minutes last week. She has a legitimate fast-pace Irish accent. I mean, I knew that…but when I heard her mention “15 to 20 Euros for a taxi” with that foreign twang I couldn’t help but smile. Ireland! The excitement hit all over again.

Now I’m sitting, and waiting.

The phone will ring within the next thirty minutes. Amy with CCI will call and go over my pre-departure orientation. We will discuss questions and last minute details so my adventure can begin.

So. I’m still sitting and waiting, clutching a red pen and a yellow pad of paper. The TV is blaring commercials and my dog is snoring. It’s a lazy summer day in VA and the rest of the house is quiet.

Tick-Tock.

I think there’s 20 minutes left. My finger runs down the list of questions I need to ask; fourteen total. Is there anything I could have forgotten? Well yes, probably but I guess there is always email.

Tick- Tock.

Dear Phone,

Please ring.

Thanks,

An Anxious Brit

Adventures Past and Future

“Bow to your partner.
Now bow to your corner.
Take your partner’s hand.”

I have never been a country girl. Cowboy hats always seemed more like a prop from an old western movie and less like a fashion accessory. Country music makes me cringe, especially the poppy, southern yodeling one can often find on a random radio station. And living in the country itself? No, no. Not for me. Not for the girl who loves people and cities. It’s fine for others; don’t get me wrong…but not me.

Yet, here I was on a Friday night in early June at a barn dance. A man with a southern twang calls steps for the next move. Over 100 people are standing in or near the entrance of the old wooden barn.

It’s humid and sticky. My cotton dress was the lightest article of clothing I had packed, yet I am still burning up. Then again so is everyone else. My hair is a mess of frizzy curls and I haven’t been wearing shoes for the last two hours. I look down at my dirty feet and smile.

Now from what I’ve just written, you would think I would find this appalling, maybe even revolting. But of course…I love it.

Half of the barn before the dancing begins

For five days this past week I went to visit Montreat, North Carolina. This small, Presbyterian-based community doubles as a conference center and college campus. During the summers, Montreat also becomes a day camp for pre-school aged children through high school teenagers. I worked here last summer, helping to run the day camp or “clubs.”

I never came here as a child like the majority of the staff. But my good friend Alice and her family were avid Montreat-goers. Her parents met at a barn dance, her family owns houses on Montreat property, and she grew up participating in clubs. Last year she asked both me and our mutual friend Kelley to join her and spend a summer in the hills of NC.

I had visited briefly before and couldn’t resist the opportunity.

Mountains of North Carolina.

“Now raise your free hand.
If you’re raisin’ your right hand, you’re a right.
If you’re raisin’ your left hand, you’re a left.
That’s how we call the steps.”

I looked around the crowded barn as we prepared to “promenade”. I remember the first time I came to one of these dances, nearly four years ago on my second visit to Montreat. I had expected to be annoyed. I had assumed there would be cowboy hats, cowboy boots and horrifying music. I also was prepared to feel out of place and excluded from the many Montreat traditions that some practice from birth.

Yet Alice, her family, and her friends partnered with me and taught me the important steps and customs for both line and novelty dances. Alice assured me that I would not be out of place, and promised not to wander far from my possibly very embarrassing first attempts.

Now, four years later I am glad they proved me wrong. I am so happy to have had the opportunity to work and visit Montreat, understand its funny little customs, and appreciate its people. It’s not the country; it’s a mountain retreat. There are not many cowboy hats, and if there were I would have to deal with it, because that would be the Montreat way. One of my favorite aspects of this community is that there is not one type of person. There are not just republicans, or democrats, or visitors, or regulars. They are a congregation of many. Last year I found myself standing with an independent, vegetarian, pacifist and a pro-gun, republican, meat-eater. And it was great.

Some of the helpful dance instructors...

“Bow to your partner.
Bow to your corner.
And bow to the Stony Creek Boys.”

We applaud as the barn dance comes to an end and then pile in all sorts of vehicles to go to Blue Cone for milkshakes and ice cream. I already know nearly 30 people will be in line before we even park, but I can’t help but smile as we weave through mountain roads to complete a traditional Friday night.

I’m sad I will only visit Montreat once this summer, but Ireland is fast approaching and new experiences are waiting to be made. In less than two weeks, I will be participating in a different adventure, meeting diverse people, and learning more about myself in an unknown atmosphere.

But of course a visit to Montreat must be made every summer.

Me, Alice, and Kelley stopping by Blue Cone after the barn dance.

Questions Answered

Ireland Update:

The job and host family information has at last been delivered! Days of checking my email incessantly can finally come to an end.

Today, when I least expected it, I got a response from Amy at CCI with the final details of my trip. It’s exactly one month before my departure, so I was glad to read “Host Family Placement” in my inbox.

For those of you reading this for the first time, I am traveling to Ireland for a two month summer internship. I have just found out that I will be working at Lifetimes Newspaper, assisting with writing, layout, and photography. From what I can tell it will mostly be work in classified sections or advertisements. Of course, I won’t know until the first day what to expect!

The office is located in Philsboro, Dublin 7 and I begin work Tuesday, June 30^th at 10am. At first I thought I would have to start the internship immediately after getting off the plane, because I will be arriving Monday opposed to the typical arrival on Saturday or Sunday. Luckily, the employer was fine with me starting on a Tuesday. Thank goodness… I’m going to be exhausted and five hours off of my normal time zone.

My host family lives in Finglas, Dublin 11 in an area called Charlestown. I will be living with Mrs. Valerie Hays and Mr. Kieran Hayes. They have two children – one 12 year old named Sean and one 6 year old named Eve. I’m excited they have kids, and their residence seems to be only about 15 to 20 minutes away from my office by public bus transportation.

Speaking of Ireland, it’s been raining a lot in Virginia again. I know this is good for farmers and such but now the pool is open and I am so done with the lack of sun. Since I don’t have any Ireland picture yet, I’ll share this one:

Baxter the Basset Hound had surgery recently and we didn't want his stiches to get wet. Unfortunately, with one umbrella I was not as lucky.

Where Are You Going?

Ever thought of interning, volunteering, or studying abroad?

As many of you know, my Ireland trip is fast approaching. In six weeks time I will be flying over the Atlantic, headed for the unknown. Several people have asked how I found an internship and host family for two months, without going over $5,000. Here is my research:

The program I am going through is the Center for Cultural Interchange, or CCI. Founded in 1985, this company helps over 7,000 students annually travel abroad. They also have a strong interest in volunteering and environmental awareness.

Of all the organizations aimed at college students, this was both the most affordable and flexible. There are no set program dates; you pick the weeks that fit your schedule. I never received a single automated email or voicemail, and worked closely with one consultant throughout the whole signing up process.

Each summer during my college years I wanted to be in a different place. Freshman year I stayed at Christopher Newport University and lived the beach bum life while taking classes. Sophomore year I went to North Carolina for the majority of my break and worked as a camp counselor in the mountains of Montreat. Finally, I have the chance to travel internationally.

For those of you also interested in being submersed into a new culture, volunteering, or studying abroad, CCI may be a helpful tool. With over 30 countries to choose from, you can travel around the world.

Good Luck!

You Know It's the End of the School Year When...

I have too many exams to actually write a full post, but I thought a little blog update was in order. My junior year in college is coming to a close (yikes) and exam week here brings out some interesting behavior…

You know it’s the end of the school year when…

1. Every student is walking around, facing the ground and holding random sheets of paper, cramming last minute notes into their brain before exams.

2. Not only can you not find a study room at the library, but you also can’t find an available printer, computer…or seat.

3. You can no longer see the floor to your room but you justify this by saying “Well, I’m moving out in a week anyways.”

4. Laundry really needs to be done. But again, this can be justified (see question #3).

5. You find yourself eating the most random things because there is no point in going to the store if you have to leave in a few days. Peanut butter, turkey, and pita bread isn’t that bad.

6. If you sleep, your hours have shifted from about 4am till 9am. Some days it’s better, some days it’s worse.

7. The phrase “You trying to pull an all-nighter?” has become cliché.

8. People’s Facebook statuses talk about how much they love Adderall.

9. Trips to 7-11 for Slurpies seems exhilarating. This has become the highlight of your weekend.

10. You have no…more…money. And the money you had went to printing points.

11. “Work parties” are common, whatever that means.

12. There has been a noticeable increase in the amount of cigarettes people consume.

13. Headphones, Pandora, and coffee are essential elements to the work environment.

14. Showering is an option. Well, maybe it always is.

15. Your house is not clean, the vacuum cleaner is broken, and the windows no longer stay up by themselves. But trying to fix these things seems pointless, and you don’t have the time anyways. So, you learn to embrace it. Love that college life you lead.

Embracing college.