In Dublin's Fair City

On est presque arrivé à la moitié du semestre! I can hardly believe it. Les dernières semaines étaient très agréables, je pense que j'ai trouvé le rythme de la vie parisienne.

There have been a couple instances where I've been successful in giving directions to those who ask on the metro or in the street. The best yet was a couple weeks ago when a metro teller jokingly complained to me about the American tourists behind me who, having heard an announcement that a stop on Line 4 was closed, were frantically asking another teller if the construction would hinder their plans. "Tourists," he said to me in French. "They're always worried about something." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and I reciprocated with a laugh, proud that he couldn't tell that I too wasn't Parisian. He returned my previously faulty pass navigo (metro card), puis m'a souhaité une bonne journée, ne sachant qu'il m'a rendu très heureuse.

Il y a une école parisienne de commerce qui a une liason avec Cornell, et le mars dernier, certains étudiants sont venus à mon cours du français. Over the summer I kept in contact with one of the students, Valentin, via email, and my friend Kurlya with another. We ate lunch with the latter, Sullivan, a couple weeks ago. He studied at Texas A&M so his English is great, but he's really good about speaking French with us and advising us on everything we should do or see in Paris. He invited us to a get-together he planned for his classmates, most of whom now work in consulting or are just about to begin their studies. Sullivan is such a riot: Kurlya and I were just about in tears as he and Valentin told us funny stories from their short visit at Cornell, especially "Happy Dave," a well-know man at Cornell for his bleached blond hair, son grand sourire, et son travaille à Okenshields, un caféteria sur le campus.

After coming across a couple of sinfully cheap plane tickets, Kurlya and I made the spur of the moment decision to go to Dublin this past weekend. It was quite the journey, because the small Irish airline Ryanair doesn't fly directly out of either Parisian airport, but rather a small airport an hour north of the city. We both had to take the metro to the bus station and a bus to the airport to take a flight to Dublin, after which we took another bus to University College Dublin, where Kurlya's old roommate is on exchange.

Malgré la longeur du voyage, j'adorais Irlande. Dublin itself is not the most extraordinary city—in fact, it reminded me somewhat of Pittsburgh, but with more pubs and small shops. However, the Irish were so kind and it was nice to be in a culture similar to what I'm used to. Sullivan had even joked before we left that we were going to visit our "cousins," that is, the Irish, because they speak English.

With yet another spur of the moment decision, Kuryla and I booked a bus tour in Belfast to see the Giant's Causeway and a few locations featured in Game of Thrones. Nous deux ne l'avons jamais regardé, mais quand-meme le tour était extraordinaire.

It spit rain all day in good Irish fashion. The both of us were sloshing in our shoes and shivering by the end of the day, but it all only added to the experience. Our tour guide, Patrick, was hilarious, and had the whole bus chuckling at his corny jokes the entire ride. We briefly stopped at Carrickfergus castle, which at nearly 1000 years old, reminded me what an infant America is, even when we consider its "antiquity." The famous Antrim coastal drive was obscured by fog, yet it only augmented the awe-inspiring beauty of the giant rolling hills, covered in grass so green it looked painted and ferns orange, yellow, and red due to the October season. The sheep and cottages peppered across the fields were the stuff of your favorite 19th century pastoral novel; I just couldn't believe something so perfect could be someone's backyard.

We both braved the famous Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, slicked from the rain and blowing in the wind. We couldn't help raising our arms in amazement at the incredible beauty around us; I'm sure the other tourists got a kick out of the two randos yelling "WOW!" and singing "Praise to the Lord the Almighty" down the glen. After visiting The Giant's Causeway, a shore covered in ancient eroded rocks, we briefly stopped at the Dark Hedges, a beautiful road of trees featured (for seven seconds) in the first episode of Game of Thrones season 2. We then made it back to Belfast and hopped on a bus to Dublin.

I decided to visit Grosvenor Baptist Church Sunday morning simply because they had an AWANA program, which I had done in my church growing up in Michigan. The church was almost an hour walk from the hostel, mais les temps était beaucoup mieux que le jour avant, et cela ne me dérangeait pas parce que j'aime marcher. En plus, j'avais plein de temps pour voir la ville pendant que je me promenais. Grosvenor was such an encouragement to my heart, maybe because it reminded me a lot of the church I attended while I was at Bob Jones. I met a couple who had lived in Chicago for three years while the man, Michael, got his masters of divinity at Trinity Evangelical College. It was he and his wife who introduced AWANA to their Irish church; they thought it was so amusing that that's the connection which had brought me that morning.

I went out to lunch with several of the young professionals from the church. They were eager to answer my questions on Northern Ireland and the Republic, the impending finality of the Brexit, and the evangelical culture in Ireland. Though we'd only known each other for a couple hours, I was sad to go, and they made sure I understood I had friends to visit should I ever return to Dublin.

We completed the weekend in Howth, a small village a half hour train ride from Dublin, beautifully set on the cliffs. J'ai éssayé pour la première fois "fish and chips;" ils étaient bons!

I couldn't fit in one blog post how beautiful Ireland is. If anything, this weekend was just a reminder that you can visit city after city, but nature is something that truly is timeless. As if God ever needed a reason to show off, but He made Ireland anyway.

I barely stayed awake during my lecture Monday afternoon (and it didn't help that it was ridiculously hot and my professor kept turning off the lights), but I would do this weekend again in a heart beat. Irlande, je t'aime.

I am thankful for cheap travel, experiences that remind me that I am both a child and an adult, and the community of Christians around the world who inspire and encourage me. I am grateful, too, that English is a language I know well—there is a wealth of privilege I can't even fathom that comes with this simple reality.

My international travels are on hold until my October break, when I'll be hightailing to London, Venice, and Lucerne. In the meantime, I'm hyped for a Paris Saint Germain soccer game this Saturday and continue my quest to find le meilleur millefeuille de Paris.

Life update: didn't find one chancer, cheat, or backstabbing snake in Dublin's fair city (if you get that reference, nous sommes dejà amis.)

"Listen, bob. You're not in America anymore; you're in Ireland. So have a drink. Shut up."

- Declan, Leap Year

#culture #studyabroad #travel