I’ve been back in the good ole’ US of A for a few days now, and, as I’ve reconnected with friends and acquaintances, I have encountered the inevitable question “How was Ireland?” a number of times. This question is filled with good intentions but so often, I believe, expects a certain response. I think an underlying expectation exists that this question will prompt exciting stories of human flourishing and crazy adventures that were only filled with joy and happiness. And why wouldn’t it? We as a society expect the response “good” from the question “How are you?” no matter the context or circumstances, so why would this attitude towards introductory small talk change drastically when a particular theme of the question is applied?

For example, there have been many times at the deli (my previous place of employment) where I have asked a customer, “How can I help you?” Because our brains are so conditioned to anticipate certain greetings from acquaintances and strangers, many a time I have received a rushed “Good, how are you?” as a response from this question. Although sometimes turned off by the potentially perceived rudeness of this response, I know I am often guilty of this inauthenticity when it comes to superficial interactions. But I think, to a certain extent, that’s okay. I don’t have the time, energy, or desire to invest in the deepest thoughts and experiences of every deli worker I encounter and in many situations, I feel like a quick and impersonal exchange is okay. We acknowledge each other's humanity and then move along on our own individual journey. (That being said, if any strangers care to share authentic thoughts and feelings when prompted by a common greeting, I would be absolutely delighted to engage in conversation. My point is that this scenario is impractical for every person one encounters throughout a day or a lifetime.)

With regards to the more specific scenario of studying abroad, I have been that well-intentioned asker of the seemingly-simple question, hoping to learn a bit about someone’s experience while allowing them to recount their amazing adventures and brag about the immense excitement of their life. I have gotten responses like “amazing” and “the best experience of my life” and “I miss it so much” and whether those were the most authentic responses those people could provide or they were glorifying their experiences in order to tell me what I wanted to hear, in these situations, my expectation was fulfilled and I went on my merry way.

However, at the beginning of this semester, I saw my friend Daniel for the first time since he had spent a semester in Spain. With overwhelming excitement, I asked him how it was, expecting something similar to the above-mentioned responses. Instead, the first words out of his mouth were “It was hard.” He then continued to explain a few of the struggles and discomforts he faced while abroad and I truly appreciated the authenticity and directness with which he presented his experience. He didn’t sugarcoat it or tell me what I wanted to hear (especially because it was a few days before I departed for my own semester across the Atlantic).

So, going back to me (sorry Daniel, I am a selfish and sinful human and this is my corner of the internet but thank you for the cameo), I have been finding it difficult to describe my past four months at all, let alone in a concise and authentic manner to an unassuming audience with the best of intentions. I also think different people necessitate different responses and I have been trying to figure out the appropriate response for the array of people who have inquired. Authenticity is of the utmost importance to me, but I also don’t feel the need to replay my deepest struggles of the past few months to every one of my mom’s friends I see at church who call me Tierney or all of the younger girls from my gymnastics team who I haven’t seen since high school (and probably will never see again outside of social media) or my friend’s grandma I encounter exactly once a year.

So, Internet, if I were to answer the question “How was Ireland?” with a single word, I would say “educational”. Although this may seem like a rather obvious and ambiguous word to use to describe an extremely unique semester of my education, I think it is the word that best encapsulates all aspects of my experience. These past few months, I have learned so much about myself, the world, humanity, Ireland, sustainable development, and, weirdly enough, civil engineering. (Funny how that happens when you’re enrolled in classes like “hydraulics” and “soil mechanics”. Anyone who needs help differentiating between a saturated sand and a dense clay, let a girl know. I probably can’t help you, but the information is in my notes somewhere.)

This semester, I have gained an appreciation both for new cultures and for aspects of life that are uniquely American that I didn’t formerly realize that I take for granted. Throughout the semester, I was simultaneously frustrated and delighted, challenged and surprised. I could ramble on and on with my answer to the response “How was Ireland?” but nobody really wants to listen to that (especially given my tangential story-telling tendencies). Alternatively, I could give a short and sweet “oh it was the best four months of my life” whilst batting my eyelashes and forcing my best ear to ear grin but nobody should want to listen to that simply because it would be bullshit.

Thus far, my response has been “it was an adventure”, which, I think, is a fair assessment. I think this response simultaneously allows my craved authenticity while also satisfying the asker by suggesting a time of ambiguous excitement. “Adventure” implies thrilling new experiences, challenges, and perhaps a hint of danger. Adventures are also, in most cases, worth it. Right now, that’s how I feel about Ireland. Do I want to go back any time soon? Not particularly. Am I glad that I went? Absolutely.

So, to all of my acquaintances/friends of my parents who can’t quite remember my name/people I see on campus and say hi to but haven’t had a real conversation with since freshman year/distantly related sorority sisters who crave authenticity but aren’t necessarily interested in the gritty details of the past four months of my life: Ireland was an adventure. It was filled with highs, lows, fears, failures, triumphs, scones, rain, vulnerability, bamboozlement, airplanes, friendship, growth, and quite a bit of tea. It exposed me to both the commonalities that unite us all as humans and the minute differences that make each of us unique. I am beyond thankful that I had the opportunity to move abroad for a bit, but I am also beyond thankful to be back home and to be heading back to Vanderbilt in a few days.

I hope that response satisfies at least a portion of the eager masses of inquirers and fans that I seem to have accumulated. If not, I would love to ramble on incessantly to you at some point if you care to listen.

Finally, although my time in Ireland has come to a close, due to popular demand (aka Vivian telling me to keep writing) and my own person enjoyment, I will continue to update this blog with personal thoughts and musings from time to time.