I arrived back home at 3:30 a.m. and in my current foggy haze (just like the climate of Ireland) I will recount the wonders of my travels. Before boarding the plane, I didn’t have any worry or expectation that Ireland would be much different. In fact, it was very much like I had imagined. The world is connected through the internet and the stores and restaurants that you would find in the U.S. were also found throughout the island. Nobody would not stop talking about going to Burger King and McDonalds. I was shocked when the first store I saw was an Aldi. When I went to buy snacks, I actually had trouble finding things I don’t see everyday in the United States. There was one huge thing that completely threw me off guard though. I would say I didn’t know much about Ireland or the culture before departing, but I did know it has a long history and its own language. My assumptions led me to thinking after English colonization that their language had been buried and that only a portion of the population spoke it. It was awful of me to assume that and I’m so glad I was very wrong. The moment my feet stepped into the terminal after the plane I was greeted with dozens of bilingual signs. I was told a good number of the population spoke both English and Irish and that some only spoke Irish. If my stay was longer I would have loved to pick up some of the language, but with only a week the only thing I can remember is “Sláinte!” “Cheers!”

The first day, we visited the Gaelic Athletic Association in Dublin. They were very welcoming and taught us how to play both Gaelic football and hurling. I’m extremely underqualified to explain these sports, but I will try my best. What I picked up from Gaelic football is that it is a mix of aspects found in many sports. Imagine soccer, but played with your hands and like in basketball you have to dribble the ball every so often. The ball itself is very similar to a volleyball and so are the ways you hit it. That day, I rediscovered the reason I’m not an athlete. My personal favorite sport of the two was hurling. I hope to be able to play more of it. I’ve never been a sports person, but this one has really interested me. Again, it is best to describe through a blending of other games. I would compare it closest to lacrosse. It is played with a stick called a Hurley and a ball called a Sliotar (pronounced as slither). The goal is to hit the Sliotar into the goal, which sort of looks like the American Football field post.

My absolutely favorite part of the trip was seeing the Cliffs of Moher. That morning we drove into Galway, a city on the west coast of the island. Whenever on a long drive I like to stare out the window at the views. They aren’t kidding when they call Ireland the Emerald Isles. The grass was a deeper shade of green and the trees didn’t even have leaves yet, but ivy climbed up their trunks. I enjoyed the view as much as I could until the gentle rattle of the bus and foggy day sent me right to sleep. Arriving in Galway, I took a nice walk along the docks with the wind about to push me into the ocean. It was all a warning for what was ahead. Galway was our stop for lunch, which I was too busy exploring and ending up eating only an orange popsicle (why? I don’t know, it was certainly not warm outside). We hopped back in the bus and drove straight down to the Cliffs of Moher.

In the parking lot it was drizzling, but as we ascended further up the hill, almost reaching the cliff face, the strong wind picked up more rain. It was pelting us in the face and ears. I could barely open my eyes when looking out into the sea. I was wearing my rain jacket, but my pants were completely soaked through. Over the course of twenty minutes, I felt like I took a dive in. The height of the cliffs reach over 600 feet above sea level. On a sunny day you could see multiple headlands of the cliff in the distances, but with the mist I could barely see more than two. How I am describing this could be taken as negatives, but trust me I’m grinning while thinking back on it. After an hour, we all had to board the buses. I took off my rain jacket and realized… it was in fact not waterproof at all. I was drenched three layers down. I found this absolutely hysterical. I was a bit cold the rest of the day, but I would have climbed right back up that cliff.

The purpose of my trip was to perform with Marching Mizzou in the Dublin Saint Patrick’s Day Parade as well as the Tipperary Saint Patrick’s Day Parade. It is an incredible first time experience in a city. Having never stepped foot in Dublin and being able to perform down the main street with thousands cheering your team on is completely unreal. It is something I will never forget. I was so distracted admiring all the beautiful buildings downtown, I got off step while marching. We marched right past the Spire, the parliament building and Trinity college. After the parade had finished, we were allowed to wander the city. I visited Saint Patrick’s cathedral and Dublin castle. All the architecture is old and has so much character. You are able to breathe in history while walking down the road, unlike any city I’ve traveled to in the U.S. I am honored and beyond happy I had the opportunity to experience this. Thank you to everyone in Ireland who welcomed us. I hope one day I’ll be able to return.

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Learn more about this blogger’s study abroad program: School of Music: Marching Mizzou in Ireland