Am I Really Blessed by The Luck of the Irish?
Traveling shouldn’t be this easy. What the heck is happening?
A few weeks ago, I was fortunate enough to finally pack my bags and board a plane for another extended stay abroad. After spending two years on and off in Spain, I decided it was time to take a break from language classes and jamón (who am I kidding, I’ll never turn down jamon) and visit the Emerald Isle. I was fairly confident that Ireland in Spring would be a great destination, but there is always a lot of uncertainty that comes with living in a new country. Add the unpredictablity of COVID to the mix and life can feel like a giant question mark as soon as you leave the tarmac.
My trip to Ireland brought forth a particularly strange anxiety because I purposely made the trip as uncomplicated as possible. With no special visa to obtain and no foreign language to learn, I still couldn’t shake that “did I leave the coffee maker on” feeling. I’m not sure if it’s the experience of living in a pandemic or the fact that I actually live up to the nickname “Wreck it Ralph”, but I couldn’t help but prepare myself for things to go horribly wrong.
With that in mind, I fully anticipated spending my first 36 hours in Dublin the same way I do in any new country: burrowed under the covers in my hotel room, binging on American TV, and wondering just what the hell I’m doing with my life. I’m pretty sure many of us have succumbed to this habit over the last two years, but it’s especially stressful when you don’t even know where to buy toilet paper. The stage was set for an epic meltdown. I had two hours of sleep, my luggage was damaged during the flight, and despite all my experience traveling, managed to leave my wallet and phone in the airport taxi.
Then a couple of hours later something remarkable happened. Everything was fine.
My cab driver, who I’m convinced must be ⅔ of the way to sainthood, brought back my phone and wallet. I took a brief power nap, walked out of the hotel, and went about my day. Toilet paper? Check. Food? Check. Reliable Wifi? Check. Tickets to one of my favorite college bands who just happened to come through Dublin the week of my stay? Check.
What is HAPPENING?? Why am I not in sweatpants watching Scrubs reruns? I’m not supposed to figure out any of this stuff for at least another week!
The subsequent days proved just as easy. I found a cozy space to work, learned the bus schedules, drank loads of Barry’s Tea, and made my way to County Cork where I now live with a single mom and three kids. What could have easily been a disaster for this childless nomad has become nothing short of a blessing. The family welcomed me with open arms, a fridge full of bacon, and baby goats next door. Most importantly, it is the first time I have actually had the opportunity to live abroad in a loving home with people to talk to. To be honest, I’m just grateful I can still carry on a conversation and don’t need a nap afterwards.
With all these amazing things happening, I couldn’t help but think about the phrase “The Luck of the Irish”. Is that really a thing? If so, surely mine is going to run out at some point. Should I go ahead and cue up Season 3 of Scrubs?
I started looking into this phenomenon and much to my surprise, learned the origin of the phrase “The Luck of the Irish” has nothing to do with four-leaf clovers or pots of gold. It is actually an expression that originated in 19th Century America, to describe the success of Irish gold miners. Fellow miners, for reasons of jealousy and outright ignorance, attributed luck to the reason why poor Irish immigrants were so good at finding gold. The truth is actually far more inspiring, and made me realize there’s no huge rush to unpack my sweatpants.
The success of the Irish miners wasn’t a tale of luck, but a story of hard work and perseverance. At that time most immigrants from Ireland were fleeing famine and starvation, and were known to work longer and harder than their American counterparts. There was no other option, and they committed themselves to making a better life.
Sound familiar? I take great care to avoid discussing politics today, and the topic of immigration is especially complex. That said, I can’t help but be inspired by those who leave their homes, commit to finding a better life, and put in the work to make it happen. Does success require luck? It can certainly help. I will be the first to admit I am blessed to have been afforded the opportunities that come with being born in the United States. The stories of the Irish miners remind us it is what you do with these opportunities that will ultimately define the outcome.
There is no question Ireland has blessed me with a little luck. I was lucky to have the worlds nicest cab driver. I was lucky to have found this wonderful family (and baby goats!), but I also consider I have now spent five years learning how to navigate foreign countries by myself, working remotely, and maintaining relationships with a loving partner, family, and friends. I am living my truth, learning from my mistakes, and that is what has brought me success. There will always be hiccups, but “Wreck It Ralph” has been a little less of a wrecking ball thanks to experience and stubborn determination. Now that is what I call “The Luck of the Irish”.
