Like most of my peers, I had the bug. After two years as a student at Saint Louis University and many more as a St. Louis resident, I was ready to leave the Midwest and see what the world had to offer. My destination was clear: Galway, Ireland.
Why Galway? Having visited Ireland a few years before, I jumped at the chance to spend a semester in such a beautiful and relaxed environment. If you’ve always wanted to visit Ireland, try to schedule a trip sometime soon. And if you’ve never thought about seeing the Emerald Isle, go ahead and do so anyway. You shan’t be disappointed.
Also, aside from some deep-rooted family ties, Ireland has the advantage of being an English-speaking country. After failing attempts in French and Spanish, I decided to hedge my bets and stick with the language I know and love.
Most importantly, I decided that if I were to spend a semester away from SLU, I might as well be away from SLU students too. Not that I hold any grudge against my classmates (I love you all, really), but part of the experience was to start the this semester blind, not knowing anyone else and needing to start anew. I realized that this would be impossible studying in a place like Madrid, so I left for the land of the green.
When I say the land of the green, I am not falling back on the leprechauns-and-blarney conception that many have of Ireland. Utter bullocks, as a true hooligan might say. No, the land of the green is truly and breathtakingly green.
Anyway, I was enrolled in the National University of Ireland in Galway with about 400 other American students. This meant that I didn’t stand out as a Yank but also that there was nothing novel about having an American on campus. Most of my classes had between 200 and 300 students, so there was no attendance, no participation and no real chance to get acquainted with my classmates. The exception was a contemporary Irish Poetry class of about 16 students, but half of those were my American friends. Foiled again.
There were, though, opportunities to meet Irish students outside of the classroom. I became a DJ on the campus radio station, one with an actual FM license. Through the station I was able to meet other students and discuss the relative merits of Irish and American music (can you believe most Irishmen haven’t heard of Journey? I remedied that situation on my first show). Of course, the stout-hearted could always strike up conversations with about locals in the pubs.
Oh, the pubs. Alcohol is frequently asked about when I talk about Ireland. While it is not a nation of drunks, the pub is a crucial element for social interaction in Ireland. People meet at the pub to catch up with friends, listen to music, pick up ladies and enjoy other lofty pursuits that we enjoy at local bars back here in the United States.
The key difference is that most Irish pubs serve far better beer than Busch family of swill, and that the Irish pub offers a far greater sense of community than the American bar. Relaxation is a key component to a good pub experience; Intimidation and swaggering bravado are all but absent. Also, to the eternal credit of most Irish, they can hold liquor better than most sidewalk-fouling Americans or this writer: not surprisingly, no exception.
Of course, these days Americans abroad care about more than alcohol consumption. Sept. 11 had everyone questioning their national identity and, as an American abroad, that questioning became even more poignant after the debris settled. Though I had been in Ireland for only a one week before the attacks, everyone seemed to take pity on the Americans. From the bartender that offered me a drink on the house to the guy at the all-night chip shop waxing philosophical, people were as quick to offer their opinion as their condolences.
Most Americans traveling in Europe are quick to avoid the stereotypical behavior of the obnoxious American tourist, some even going as far as to fake a Canadian accent to gain greater acceptance. Like most other Americans, the terrorist attacks solidified my national pride; Even when I wasn’t fully supportive of the government’s military response, I never denied my nationality or tolerated any ignorant, blanket statements about the United States. This may be only a minor form of patriotism, but it helped erase any form of shame or apologetics I offered in defense of my country.
And though my patriotism is unflagging, these rainy days, with brief patches of springtime, serve to remind of my time in lovely Galway. Don’t be deterred if SLU doesn’t offer a program to your destination of choice. It is well worth the effort to find the right place, if it happens to be in Ireland, maybe you can raise a pint for me.
Chris Schaeffer is a junior studying English.
