An American Abroad

The url for this blog is 'Catherine Abroad', but recently, I've been very acutely aware of my nationality. I've experienced this on other trips overseas, and as I've mentioned before Ireland is the one place where my other-ness hasn't always been immediately apparent. But in my own head, it's something of which I'm often very mindful, especially now that classes have started and I'm not constantly surrounded by other foreign students.

I've felt it in my classes: I'm taking five, two literature lectures (huge classes in big halls, I doubt the professors will ever know me), one on Celtic Languages that I've already written about, a Philosophy class on poverty and disability that's fascinating but difficult, and a service-learning seminar I have yet to begin. While the service-learning class is designed specifically for international students, the rest have a mix, with equally mixed results. In the first session of my modern literature lecture, the professor was referencing authors the Irish students had all covered in the previous year's class, as well as famous Irish historical figures- before stopping short and asking for an unprecedented show of hands for how many American students there were in the group. About half of the lecture hall raised their hands, some timidly, some proudly, and some like me, a few seconds late after realizing what he was asking. There was a rather audible groan- or maybe just a chuckle, but it seemed like a groan, from the rest of the class. They were familiar with us coming in, noisy and confused, rushing around in a blur, and then going home. Integrating seamlessly into the Irish school system has been harder than I anticipated, with it's unmarked hallways and buildings, far more difficult than the four tips at NUI Galway Study Abroad would have me believe. (They do have some good hints though!)

My other literature class has been a bit different, though still huge and oddly scheduled. It's focus is on "The American South and Gothic" (not American Gothic, like old English Jane Eyre style I think, don't ask me how they go together) and our first section is all about the Civil War, Harlem Renaissance, and such intermediary narratives. As our very-Irish professor set about explaining the timeline of the Civil War, then put up a large picture of Rosa Parks and explained who she was, I felt, for once, ahead of the game. She put up a map of the American east coast, outlining the Mason-Dixon treaty, and I felt a pull of home- but then, as I was doodling in my notebook absentmindedly, realized: I claim much of American history as my own, particularly the Revolution, which the Liberty's Kids PBS show taught me all about years ago, but my ancestors weren't there then, they were in Italy, England, Scotland, France...Ireland. I'm an American mutt, my history is that of my own life, or the life of the people who came before me, but I have no business feeling attached to much else. In my Celtic Languages class the Swedish professor made a big show of distinguishing between one's mother tongue and native language, where the latter was often closer to the heart, if there was a difference.

I've joined the International Students Society (don't call it a club- those are for sports), went to one of their meet and greets, and am taking a bus trip with them to the Cliffs of Moher tomorrow! I've also joined up with a bunch of other groups, hoping to get integrated with some Irish students, but for a shy introvert like me, it's always an uphill struggle. That's why I'm here though, I think. To stretch myself, find myself, try new things and try to break out of my mold a little bit more than I have before. While that can be exhausting  and some nights (like tonight) are designed especially for eating microwaved chicken curry and curling up with a book/kindle, there will be other times to either joyfully express my American heritage, or blend in with a gaeilge-speaking crowd. And they will come, and when they do, I'll talk more about them here.

Special dedication of this post goes to Peggy Nelson, my grandmom, who pushed me to get back to writing and update everyone on how things have been going. Which brings me to another point. One of the big things that's been keeping me going so far (and I'm only 10 days in- the length of a travel study!) is the thought that whatever happens during this trip, I know that waiting for me back at home are some absolutely fantastic people who will be there no matter what. And that's probably the best feeling in the world.

Bye until next time, and thanks for reading. ♥