And So the Wheel Turns

Monday the 19th of May rolls around and once again I find myself, for the third time in my life, unpinning wall decorations from a college apartment. I've got equal parts Christmas music, dubstep, and Aerosmith playing in the background, consequence of the rather unfortunate lack of internet. It's a homesick killer.

- - -

The last three days comprised a period of intense change for me and I'm not going to lie and say that I was okay. I panicked over my future two weeks in Sweden, I stressed over final packing, I was sad to say goodbye to my Ireland friends, and I was also very homesick knowing that I would not see my family for another two weeks. It was an awkward state of limbo, to know that my study abroad in Ireland had officially ended but that I was not going home. The packing really brought it into perspective. By 10 pm on Monday night, it was apparent to me that not everything in my dorm would fit in two suitcases. You'd think I would have learned a thing or two about how to reasonably handle packing from my preparations for Ireland and from my time in Ireland itself. Nope, not really. So, once again, I resorted to the age-old, tried-and-true tactic of the lost and overwhelmed college student: I called my mom. We had four phone conversations over the course of the next 5 hours, in which I endeavored to delve once more into that state of brutal self-honesty. I achieved that state. The only thing is, there is a very fine line between brutal self-honesty and total apathy--and that is a line very easily crossed. In the end, I didn't care about any item too much. It all seemed so wasteful, throwing away the perfectly good items that I couldn't donate because of an opened package. I ended up just falling asleep, and woke up early the next morning to pack with renewed vigor. I fit everything into two suitcases, with just enough time to feel elated before heading over to the hostel across the street that said they could watch my extra suitcase for two weeks. Eh, that turned out not to be the case. I told the woman at the front desk what I needed to do and her immediate response was, 'Oh God no.' In my slightly dubious mental state, exacerbated by lack of sleep, I panicked instantly: only 7 hours left to get rid of this suitcase. I think she saw that I was just about in tears because the woman at the desk was very good about calling up the tourist information office and asking if I could leave my suitcase there. Yes, they said. And relieved, I made it just out to the front yard of the hostel and lost it. I'm not ashamed. I cried out the stress for a few minutes, said 'No. I don't have time for this,' and headed up to UCC looking like death to close my bank account. I said goodbye to my Ireland friends over a pitcher of hot chocolate at Fellini's. And finally, I went on a meditative cleaning spree to ensure a positive score on the room inspector's chart. Everything that needed to get done, got done. I got up early the next morning to begin my travel day to Sweden, smoothly reached the farm I'm going to WWOOF on for the next two weeks, and now here we are, typing away. Ironically, my internet connection is better here.

Dzogchen Beara

On Saturday evening of the 17th, I returned from my few days' stay at Dzogchen Beara Tibetan Buddhist Center in West Cork. It was a spectacular experience, the first time I'd ever *really* traveled on my own, and possibly the best thing I've done in Ireland all term. The people there seemed like family, united by trust and by purpose. Dzogchen Beara is fairly remote and everybody comes with a specific, similar purpose, so it doesn't feel like the typical hostel experience. Many played instruments and participated in an impromptu Thursday night jam session. Most went to regular morning and afternoon meditation sessions.

Between meditation sessions, I went on two adventures with a couple other ladies staying in the hostel. Both involved long, muddy (but beautiful) hikes through tick-infested woods and a couple streams to get to two brilliant locations: a swimming cove and a modern castle-inspired hotel once meant to be ritzy, but never completed. It reminded us of The Shining, which on one hand made us feel like really cool explorers. On the other hand, we were kind of freaked out when we decided to hitchhike back from the abandoned hotel and the first thing we saw in the back of the truck that picked us up was a chainsaw. I got to hang on for dear life next to it.

Overall, Dzogchen Beara was a lovely place surrounded by lovely people.

A Tibetan Buddhist Adventure

Here I am, done with finals, done with my official UCC term in Ireland...and I'm not flying home for another 3 weeks. What am I doing, you ask? This is where my mom snorted and just about gave me the biggest guffaw of my life. It played out like this:

Me: Yeah, I'm going up to Dublin for a couple days to do some touring. Hit up the archaeology museum again. Heading back to Cork for a day. Then I'm going on a Tibetan Buddhist retreat. I booked myself into this hostel for a few days.

Mom: *snort* YOU DID WHAT?!?!?

Me: I'm going to spend three days at this Tibetan Buddhist center in West Cork, on the Beara peninsula. It's supposed to be beautiful.

Mom: *still snorting* WHAT are you planning on doing there?

Me: Ummmm, I....don't know?

I leave tomorrow, which is why I am posting one day early yet again. I'm heading off to the Dzogchen Beara Tibetan Buddhist center with no idea what to expect, except that there are meditation sessions in the mornings and afternoons and two wonderful cats who may sneak into the hostel cottage. I am not Buddhist. In fact, I don't really belong to any religion. I believe that all religions have their own equally valuable bits of wisdom to impart and I admire the self-discipline that often goes into practicing them. Because of this, I've always wanted to spend a few days at a religious center--and I decided that I might fit in a little better at a Tibetan Buddhist center than a convent. That is why I am going. At the very least, I hope it will be a somewhat relaxing 'collect your thoughts and prepare for the next 2.5 weeks' experience. After this, I come back to Cork for a few days to take care of The Last Things (close bank account, pay apartment fees, clean, pack, etc.), then permanently move out of my apartment early on the 21st of May. From there, I fly to Sweden and plan to spend the last two weeks volunteering on an organic farm. Which I am very excited about and slightly nervous for, as I have absolutely no experience whatsoever working on a farm. Lack of knowledge aside, I am very ready to do some practical, hands-on work.

One Day More

One Day More is my favorite song from Les Mis. So, naturally, I listen to it somewhat regularly. I was doing so yesterday when I realized how accurately it sums up finals. Lines such as:

One day more to revolution
We will nip it in the bud
We'll be ready for these schoolboys
They will wet themselves with blood

and:

Tomorrow is the judgment day

is a fairly accurate description of mental preparations for the start of finals tomorrow. Because I had so many of my final exams in the last two weeks of March, I only have three finals in May: one 3-hour final tomorrow morning, two on Friday, and then I am done for the term. This is nothing compared to what the regular UCC students have to do: the other day, my roommate's Irish engineering friend asked me how finals were going. I told him that I had 3 finals, none of them yet, that I'm still just studying. He just kind of stares at me. 'I still have 10 finals to go,' he said. Keep in mind that these aren't just regular tests--some are worth nearly 100% of one's grade. And, because UCC is on a year-long schedule (though UCC is switching to a semester schedule next year), some of those tests cover material from way back in the fall. Ouch.

Going back to the One Day More theme--and I'm not going to elaborate on this too much--in exceedingly dramatic terms, the song is also a good representation of the end of this study abroad experience. After finals end this Friday, I'm off and my friends are off. Even though I will see them again for a day or so later in May before I really leave, the end of finals is a separation point. Most people I know are excited to be heading home in a few weeks to see their families again. At the same time, I think many also consider Cork a home away from home. This is a good example of the 'double life conflictions' that I, at least, experienced as a study abroad student balancing my life back in the States with that which I've made here. I suppose that 'double life' may have the wrong connotations, but there you go. Alright, back to studying.

False Advertising at its Worst

Yesterday, I got enthused when I found a bag of Bitsa Wispa advertising its purportedly 'revolutionary' re-closable properties. 'This is great,' I thought. 'These must be just like the cool freezer bags my roommate gets at Tesco that don't have a zip-lock or anything!' I opened the bag and spent several moments trying to stick the opening back together. It was not working. So I flipped the bag over and read the label telling me just how this revolutionary technology was supposed to work. "Fold the top over and tape it." Eh, that doesn't really cut it.