Home Is a Verb: Building a New Life in Galway
It鈥檚 10:30 am, and I鈥檝e stumbled, bleary-eyed, off the bus into Galway City. The drive from the Shannon Airport to my new apartment鈥檚 only about an hour, but it feels more like five. I鈥檝e been sitting on an airplane for almost half a day, and my perception of time and sense of place can鈥檛 be trusted in the slightest.
It鈥檚 2:30 in the morning at home in California, which probably accounts for the way I can鈥檛 get my new apartment door unlocked, and the struggle of dragging my overfilled suitcase up a full flight of stairs. That, in the moment, is funny, too. I was worried I hadn鈥檛 packed enough warm clothing the night before I left, but here I can鈥檛 even lug it up to my new room.
It鈥檚 the little things that are hardest. I sit through an orientation on our apartment protocols: how to lock the doors, for one (It鈥檚 two days before I figure it out), and how to share the wifi with a hundred other students, and how to air out your rooms and avoid the growth of black mold鈥攚ait, what? I鈥檝e never considered black mold in my life.
At home, I grew up with wildfires all summer and into fall; ash days rather than snow days, and hundred-degree weather in the shade. In late August, Ireland is constantly damp. The chill settles in my lungs, and turns into morning asthma flareups. I鈥檓 as far as I鈥檝e ever been from what I know and love, and I start to ask myself why I鈥檓 here in the first place. I wanted this鈥ut why?
Study Abroad Is Not The Same as a Vacation
Don鈥檛 get me wrong. I鈥檝e been excited about this for weeks, if not months. There was a point in May, saying goodbyes to my university friends, that my usual 鈥渉ave a great summer!鈥 greeting turned into a jaunty 鈥渟ee you next January!鈥 and I鈥檇 grin while they spluttered and questioned and after a minute I鈥檇 explain I was going abroad. It鈥檚 my first time out of the country, and I think I鈥檓 allowed a bit of bravado.
The thing about studying abroad鈥攊t isn鈥檛 a vacation. There鈥檚 a thrill in traveling somewhere new for a week or two, such as not needing to settle in, sightseeing to your heart out and knowing that in no time you鈥檒l be boarding a plane home. You鈥檙e glad you went but enjoying the comfort of going back to your normal life.
It鈥檚 the existential equivalent of staring at a blank page in my notebook, knowing I need to draw or write something but being so overwhelmed by possibility that I can鈥檛 do anything.
But when you鈥檙e studying abroad, you鈥檙e constructing a new life for yourself. Some days, I haven鈥檛 a clue what that looks like. It鈥檚 the existential equivalent of staring at a blank page in my notebook, knowing I need to draw or write something but being so overwhelmed by possibility that I can鈥檛 do anything. But just as that kind of creative process isn鈥檛 defined (as much as I鈥檇 like it to be) by sitting down to make art and leaving with a masterpiece two hours later, making a place that feels like a home doesn鈥檛 happen all at once, but in stages and fragments.
Finding a New Sense of Place
I have a habit of building my home around the people I feel safest with, but five thousand miles away, something has to change . Staying up till 4 am to Skype with my friends when I know they鈥檒l be online isn鈥檛 sustainable for long.
So first I try to explore the idea of being somewhere new: the fact that I can do whatever I please. I make a list of cafes in Galway, soon to be expanded as I find new places to sit and write on my days off. I hold onto the moments I鈥檓 alone in the kitchen and can try a new recipe. Cooking, I find, is meditative and I鈥檒l take whatever meditation I can get when life is swirling around me like this. I save space for those lovely few hours when time zones align and I can call my partner from my laptop and forget the frustrations of the week, just for a few hours. In all of this, I鈥檓 finding my home.
Sometimes it鈥檚 About The Small Things
Even the smallest things are worth celebrating. I know, now, where to find the medication I need for my awful (and depressingly frequent) winter colds. The world isn鈥檛 as overwhelming when I鈥檝e figured out the pharmacy is just down the street.
Having somewhere I feel safe, has made it easier to explore in the ways I want to, and fall in love with the place I鈥檓 spending the next four months of my life. I can look around me and start to enjoy the gorgeous skies at night; the way the sun shines on the River Corrib when I鈥檓 up early for classes. I can start to plan outings, and wander to museums and galleries and castles, without feeling like everything I know is collapsing around me.
I know there are people who take every opportunity to try something new, as soon as their plane touches ground. They toss some clothes in their wardrobe and head out into the city lights, living life to the fullest.
For others, it takes a while longer. We all live life at different paces, and I鈥檝e come to accept that it鈥檚 fine, although it wasn鈥檛 what I had first hoped for myself. Six months ago, I thought landing on a new shore would make me feel like a new person. Today, I鈥檓 taking it slow. That鈥檚 okay too.
Sketch R. M. | Language Enthusiast and Interdisciplinary Narratives & Creative Process major | University of Redlands, Johnston Center |聽University of Galway Partnership in Ireland | Fall 2017 | 海角社区 International Correspondent