Editor’s note: This is the first in a series of pieces written by students abroad. I feel like I should be looking in your eyes, shaking your hand and introducing myself in person. After all, my hope is that “we” will establish this type of a relationship, and I want to tell you everything I will experience as a college student living abroad in Ireland. Hopefully, I can convey my journey so you know what it is like to be in my shoes, and experience all the wonder vicariously. So let’s start, shall we? I will be spending this semester in Ireland, at the University College at Cork, while taking advantage of my proximity to Europe’s most fantastic travel destinations, and relating what I experience to you. But right now, I am at home in Massachusetts and I have seven days to clear two important hurdles in my race toward Europe: to say goodbye and to pack. That means I had seven days to fill three suitcases with necessities for five months. So I have packed, unpacked, weighed and reweighed suitcases, stuffed my as-seen-on-TV space bags to the brim, consulted travelers and traveler’s books and read about Ireland’s weather. Each was helpful, but I soon came to the realization that what you ultimately end up packing is largely personal preference and may not always be practical. So the first thing I threw into my suitcase was a thick envelope filled with pictures of family, friends and the beach. From there, I packed all that unimportant stuff, like clothing, my favorite face lotions and shoes. Though difficult, packing was far easier than saying goodbye to family, friends and familiar surroundings. With hugs, plenty of tears and an order for them to walk beside French Hall and smell the trees blossoming in the spring, I pulled shut the door to that 10-by-16-foot, white cement cubicle deemed a dorm room, stopped, reopened the door, took one last look, a deep breath, turned around and pulled it tight. For New Year’s I joined my family in our living room for our usual – Dick Clark and Chinese food. What wasn’t usual was our 4 a.m. wake-up call in order to be at the airport by 6 a.m. Half awake, suitcases in hand, we walked into Logan airport and met Carolan, my friend and soon to be roommate, and her family. After a tearful goodbye, hugs and plenty of parental safety tips, including an oh-so-subtle suggestion from my mother to bring home a nice blue-eyed Irish boy, we waved goodbye one last time from the end of the security line and headed for our gate. As our transatlantic took off, Carolan and I clutched onto each other’s arm in anticipation as we watched America’s east coast slip away behind us. See you in five months, Boston.
Brittany Bell Dalphond can be reached at [email protected].
