When I'm here, everything seems different. Worries at home are far away. I have no cell phone, no television, and a minimal access to the internet. I'm living in a hostel with my classmates, eating Irish stew, gathering around a peat fire to stay warm, relaxing in the dim lighting of the corner pub with foreign friends, and laughing into the early hours of the morning in a room made for ten. Time has more weight here, as if each moment means something more, something you cannot explain in words. You are standing in the midst of it all, trying to grasp what it means, not knowing yet affected by its poignance.
I've learned more than I can express on paper. I've learned that my silly problems are trivial. That you can hate someone without knowing why. That you can get so caught up in a cause that it becomes dangerous. That symbols and colors of pride are restricting just as they are empowering. That a single petrol bomb can destroy the hopes and dreams of near one hundred children. And, most importantly, that creativity and communication can't always solve the bitterest of problems.
Yet there is good here. There are friendly faces and kind words. There are strong individuals, bringing people together through art, through literature, through the sheer strength of their love. I aspire to be as selfless, as hard-working as they are. To show love to all despite everything. They took us in, mere strangers, amidst all of the work they were doing for a troubled community, and fed us, shared stories of conflict and peace, and gave us memories we'll never forget.
I will leave Ireland with new eyes, pointed towards a future that I will choose. It is more than I can say for the children here. And for all I've done to help, for the blisters on my hands, the ache down my spine, and the pang in my heart, I feel helpless. And changed. And, though it seems impossible, hopeful.
I'll miss this country. I'll miss Ireland, and all the people who call it home.
~ Gina Marie
No comments:
Post a Comment