The truth is, I didn’t know what to expect from Ireland. I stepped out of the airport into a sunny morning, took a deep breath and smelled the first aroma of a new country: exhaust fumes. Not exactly what I was looking for.

Jet lag made the ride to Galway a surreal experience. The bus careened down narrow roads of country villages, constantly making me think we were going to hit something. I saw a field of sheep one minute and a building the next, each moving quickly toward us. When I arrived at my salmon-pink apartment and started to unpack, I expected to be terribly homesick, but I wasn’t.

New sights, sounds and smells were whirling through my brain, leaving me no room to think about what I was missing back home. Since I had not known what to expect in Ireland, I started to make a mental inventory of all the interesting and new things I observed.

The first thing I noticed was that the weather on the day I arrived was not at all typical. I knew Ireland was rainy, but I underestimated how rainy. Most days, I find myself slogging through lake-sized puddles and arriving at my lectures with jeans sopping wet to the knees and socks soaked through. The continuous precipitation, wind and cold join forces to suck all the warmth from you on your way to class.

Ireland’s daily deluge, though sometimes annoying, really makes Galway’s landscape flourish. Even in winter, a vibrant green carpet of grass covers the banks of the River Corrib as it tumbles raucously through the center of town, and the damp air makes a perfect habitat for moss. It grows on everything that doesn’t move, as evidenced by the Chia Pet-like trees outside my bedroom window.

The weather doesn’t hold my whole attention, though. I’ve also learned a lot about the people here, who are friendly and willing to lend a hand if asked. They are also very joyful people: My favorite pub is always full of the music of laughter backed by traditional Irish melodies.

One weather-related observation I have made about the Irish people is that they seem to be in total denial that it ever rains. They don’t wear raincoats or boots, and use umbrellas only if it’s particularly nasty. On campus, you can always tell who the international students are, because they’re all bundled up in their rain gear.

Almost as interesting as the Irish weather is the way Irish people speak, because whatever they speak here, it’s not English . at least, not the English I know. The English that is spoken in Galway has a heavy dialect and is peppered with Gaelic. If you go out for an evening, and someone says the pub across the street is a good “craic” (pronounced “crack”), they’re not talking about illegal substances; a craic is a fun place to hang out. Other interesting turns of phrase include “hob” for the burners on a stove, and “mangled badger” to describe being excessively drunk.

The most common turn of phrase I have found is the Irish “em” versus the American “um” during pauses in speech. I find myself saying em naturally now.

That’s how Ireland is-it’s sneaky. It surrounds you, and then the moment you say “yeah that party was a good ‘craic,'” it has you. It’s a place that turns you into a sponge to soak up the scenery, culture and maybe even a little water too.

I may not have known what to expect before I came, but now that I am here I know I’ve found something beyond any expectations I could have had.

Elizabeth Glueck is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences, studying in Galway, Ireland.