Ireland Trip: Day 33

Today is my last full day in Armagh. As sad as I am to leave this town, I am so ready to come home. I miss my friends, I miss my family, I miss my dogs and cat, I miss my bed. Plus, school started yesterday, so it's simply time for me to be home. I can sit here and talk about the learning experience this has been, talk about how I've made tons of new friends and shared things with them that no one at home will understand. But really, I'm just ready to get back to my normal life.

Cultural differences aside, the people here are great but not the same as the Tahlequah-nians. I want to be able to talk about floating the river or eating at Chilango's and have people know what I mean. I want to come back for Taco Nights and see all my OIL friends and not have to explain what the organization is just to make it through a story. I want to come back to the newspaper and get buried in the minutia and work of it. I want to go to the movies without taking a bus for a half-hour.

I don’t want to sound like I’m griping too much, because this has been a great experience. Trust me, I’ve already raved about it to numerous people. To fulfill our requirements for the program, we've been asked to fill out a form that evaluates everything from the coursework to the standard of living. Despite my nitpicky annoyances, I still feel this experience was worthwhile and responded accordingly. But as I’ve said before, it’s just time to come home.

Before I came to the program I had difficulty imagining life with total strangers for four weeks. Now, the thought of not seeing these people every day is weird and pretty depressing. I’ll be home Saturday night, and by Monday I’ll be back in the full swing of school. But the impressions I’ve gained from this trip will linger with me for some time after.

Today I went for a walk around town, just to see something I had not seen before. I didn’t find much because I got kinda lost, but I did make it back to the restaurant I ate at on the first day. In a poetic sense, I ended at the beginning, and now I’ll return home Saturday. I’ve been gone for five weeks, in a foreign country, cut off (for the most part) from life at home.

It’s going to be good to get back.

Ireland Trip: Day 30

So, I'm never going to Stansted Airport ever again.

This weekend five girls and I traveled to London for a little getaway from Armagh. We had a great time in London for the two days we were there, and I would not trade that experience for the world. But for all the fun we had in London, we had so much trouble getting home Sunday.

Being broke college students, we decided as a group to book the cheapest flights possible through RyanAir. This meant our flight left from Stansted Airport at 6:30 in the morning Sunday. Because of a delay in the train from our hostel to the airport, we MISSED our first flight that morning (despite being there at least half an hour before the flight left).

RyanAir's policy on missed flights is that no refunds are given for any reason. This means that we had to pay money to get on the next flight available. Unfortunately, we had to split up into two groups of three, since there were no flights available Sunday with six seats open. I was in the group whose flight left at noon, so I was at that airport for six hours - waiting.

Although we were there early, we could not check in for our flight until two hours before the plane left. However, it takes about two hours to go through security alone. We had already missed one flight, had to pay an additional $120, and it looked like we were going to miss our second flight. Janine, one of the other girls with me, ended up begging the security employees to let us go to the front of the line. This, of course, prompted the other tired travelers in line to yell at us.

After missing our first flight, sitting in the airport doing nothing for four hours, being forced to pay an extra $120 and being yelled at by random strangers, we had to run to the gate to make it in time. I broke out into a run through the airport, only to be stopped AGAIN by airport security to have my shoes scanned. Fearing I would miss my flight, I ran barefoot through the airport. (By the way, the grates on the escalators are not very pleasant on the bare foot.)

Obviously, since I am writing this note, I made it to the plane, and eventually made it back to the hostel in Ireland. If anything, this stressful experience has taught me that sometimes spending a little bit more money is worthwhile - especially if it means not having to fly through Stansted Airport.

Ireland Trip: Day 22

What's the most surreal thing I've experienced in Ireland? Three Irish men singing "Okie from Muskogee" to me in a bar.

Last night, some students in the program and I went out for a low-key evening and got something unexpected in return. After hitting three other pubs around town, we ended up at The Stage, a multi-purpose place that serves as bar, restaurant, theater and dance hall all in one. The bar was packed with various kinds of people, young and old, sober and drunk, and it took a few minutes before we managed to find a table with enough room for us.

The girls I went with last night are all very different people with unique personalities. Janine: From Boston, she is the only black person on the trip, giving her a different point of view on intercultural issues. Christine: Blonde and perky, this girl from Arizona is quiet and polite and most resembles a dainty flower. Megan: Originally from Florida, she attends school in Washington state and is the only person in the program so far to end up with an Irish boyfriend.

As we sat at our table in The Stage, decked out to the nines, fully expecting excitement to come to us, we sadly noted that it seemed as though nothing would happen to us. Just as we were about to depart, a drunk man came up to Janine and sparked up conversation. He pointed to a friend of his who had been staring at her for a few minutes. This prompted him to come over and begin making conversation with us, and before we knew it all their friends had pulled up chairs to the table.

Before I go on in this story, I'd like to make a point clear. I am friends with a bunch of guys and, in that capacity, I lose almost all femininity I have. As much as I enjoy being considered one of the guys, and as much as I love my friends, sometimes it sucks to be ignored in the female sense. So when some fairly cute guys paid attention to me and the other girls last night, I was surprised to find I remembered how to flirt - and surprised at how much I enjoyed myself.

Around this time is when the singing began. While discussing where I was from, the guy sitting next to me broke out into song, and not even my other friends from America knew the song. I sang along with them, smiling and laughing the whole time. At one point in the night, I thought how glad I was we waited just that little bit longer before heading home.

The night ended eventually and we parted our separate ways, but the impression of the night has stayed with me. The next time I decide to go out in Ireland, I will be looking for a similar experience - a relaxed atmosphere, lots of talking and laughter, and no pressure at the end of the night. When I return home and go out to the bar with friends, I know I'll have a good time, but it won't be the same as listening to a Merle Haggard song in an Irish accent.

Ireland Trip: Day 2

Living out of a suitcase in your own home is an odd experience.

Because of my overzealous nature when it comes to packing and organizing, I've been packed to go on my trip since Thursday night. This would not have been too bad if I had left Sunday, but the days keep going on and I still haven't left the country.

That's all about to change, though, because this morning when I opened the front door to go to the travel agent's office, my passport was sitting there in a FedEx box! I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful official document.

I rushed over to the travel agent's office and she, being the fabulous agent she is, worked her magic - with minimal cost for the new ticket. Now I'm scheduled to leave the country tomorrow, which will put me in Ireland Wednesday morning. Then I'll be dancing a jig and playing the harp, or some other Irish stuff.

Man, I really need to learn something about Irish culture.

Ireland Trip: Day 1

Today is the first day of my trip to Ireland ... and I'm still in Tahlequah! Due to a series of unfortunate events (heh), my passport did not make it to me in time to catch my flight today. It's on its way to me, though, lying somewhere between New Hampshire and Sandy Circle.

I'm packed and ready to go. Now I just need to find a way to get there.

Hmm ... maybe I'll stage an international incident ...