Beginning in Ireland
Dia dhuit! These strange words of greeting were one of the first things that welcomed me to the lucky, Gaelic city that is the Capital of Ireland. Getting off the plane in Dublin was the first time my feet had stepped on another continent or even country outside of the United States. As a young girl, I was excited to see this new place but mostly I was excited to show off my new raincoat to the drizzly overcast weather that is consistent to a fall day in Ireland. Walking around Dublin with my family, my eyes kept getting wider with the awe and amazement at the ancient, beautiful buildings mixed into a modern city. For the first time ever, I began to realize that the US’s old history and historic buildings barely compared to the age worn stones of these buildings.
Just as I was reveling in my newfound appreciation for the age and history of Dublin, I began to notice strange words on signs and buildings with normal English names underneath. These weird Gaelic words fascinated me and my curiosity about this different culture bubbled through. My curiosity spiked as we left Dublin to drive to the small town of Kilkelly on the other coast of the country. I was shocked to find that in the little grocery stores, all the food and brand names were different. As I began to notice more differences such as the smaller everything and that the cars drove on the wrong side of tiny narrow roads flanked by stone fences that marked off fields sprinkled with ruined castles, churches, and graves where sheep idled through the remains, my appreciation of differences in countries grew. Driving through Ireland, I was flabbergasted when we found a town that shares my mom’s maiden name, to celebrate this exciting discovery besides just a picture, we stopped in a local pub for lunch. The colorful, friendly locals with their singsong accents combined with delicious traditional Irish would have been enough to remember the meal, but the cherry on top was when I asked the waitress for rootbeer to drink. As a child I was still adjusting to cultural differences and did not realize rootbeer is strictly an American drink, the poor waitress was flustered but brought out a beer anyway to which my parents dissolved into laughter and ordered me milk. Aside from that incident, my trip was nothing but wonderful experiences. The child in me was impervious to the jealous looks at my curly hair from girls, the constant drizzling, and the hair-tangling wind.
My trip was rich with the beautiful landscapes and abundant castles, however the most incredible scene was not from dolphin watching but from visiting the cliffs of Moher. The sheer size of the cliffs made me feel insignificant while standing on what felt like was the edge of the world. The raw nature and power of the waves and the cliffs was beyond picturesque. This trip and experiences from it developed an insatiable desire to explore the different beauties and cultures of the world. Go raibh maith agat, Éire.