Saying Goodbye to Manchester

It's hard to believe that my time in England has come to an end. Seems like just yesterday that I quit my job, moved all of my crap to my parents' basement in Michigan, and boarded a plane bound for Manchester, UK. There was so much anticipation for what this season would hold and how my decision to move to another continent would pan out. I was nervous to leave my comfort zone and sad to be saying goodbye to the people I care about, but I was mostly excited for this opportunity to pursue my master's and live abroad, two things that had been on my list for a while.

This year in Manchester has been one of the most challenging, but also one of the most rewarding, seasons of my life on a number of levels. There are countless things I could say to describe what my experience has been, but the rule of thumb with blogging is to keep things short. So, I've decided to sum up this season with a list of highlights:

-Transitioning back into academia after working for 4 years was rough. My first semester of classes nearly killed me, but by the end of second semester, I was killing it in my classes. 
-I loved deeply. I was wounded deeply. I was reminded once again of the resiliency of the human heart.
-I lost friends and walked away from community, but I also made new friends and found a new community. I feel particularly thankful for all of my incredible classmates who brought a wealth of knowledge and experience to our program, and also know how to have a good time in and out of the classroom.
-I wrestled with my weaknesses, fears, and disappointments, sometimes winning the battle and sometimes losing. In the process, I saw the strength and determination that I possess, and I'm proud of myself for sticking it out, even when I didn't think I had it in me. 
-I traveled to 7 European countries (France, Belgium, Wales, Ireland, Scotland, Hungary, and Italy) and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of exploration. I've now been to 28 countries. 
-I reconnected with my African roots during a program field visit to Uganda. Turns out I'm not the only one in my family who can play the drums. 
-I drank lots of cider and even more tea (with milk and sugar, of course).
-I got the stomach flu and tonsillitis and was thankful for the NHS. I still can't believe that I can walk in and out of the hospital and not pay a dime (America, what's the deal??). 
-I lost 10 pounds but gained most of them back (probably from late-night kebabs and sour cream and sweet onion kettle chips).
-I spent countless hours in the library. They paid off. 
-I was rained on a lot, which has made me appreciate sunshine even more than ever. I also came to understand why the weather is one of the only things English people talk about. You're either complaining about how terrible it is, or rejoicing on rare days of sunshine. There is no middle ground.
-I broke both of my cameras (womp), which got me in the habit of camera borrowing for my weekend adventures. 
-I kissed an English boy in the rain (que romantico!). 
-I dated a Spanish boy for a week and spent one of my favorite days in Manchester with him exploring the city and indulging in sunshine and jazz music. Why one week, you may be wondering? Because we met one week before I left (quickly becoming the story of my life). 
-I went on a date with a guy from Kashmir. This was the second most awkward date of my life, and I will be dedicating a blog to it in the near future (to read about the my most awkward date, see here).
-I got made fun of for my American accent. I was also told that there should be more Americans in Manchester. I prefer the latter, though you might say I'm biased. 
-I missed family and friends, but also thoroughly enjoyed my independence and learned to be super comfortable spending time with myself.
-Oh, and I earned a master's degree from the University of Manchester! Well, almost. I just have to wrap up this small thing called a dissertation. Details... 

If you had asked me 4 months ago what my experience in Manchester had been, my response would have been laced with negativity and disappointment. Sometimes, seasons don't look like what we think they are going to. Ask me now, and I'll tell you that I'm incredibly thankful for this experience. It's pushed me in uncomfortable ways, but it's grown me a lot and looked like (I suspect) exactly what it was supposed to. I'll end now, because my 'short' list isn't so short after all. But first, some pictures of the city that I've called home for the past year:

The Time I Almost Didn't Go to Ireland

It was a rainy Saturday in Manchester (shocking, I know) and I had just wrapped up the last essay of my masters program a few days before. I was still recovering mentally, and was very much looking forward to spending four days in Ireland decompressing and having a much needed adventure. I had started packing and crossing things off my to-do list. Next on the list was checking into my flight online. I was flying Ryan Air, which is a terrible airline aside from their prices. I guess you get what you pay for. For some reason, I could not find the confirmation email. I searched both of my inboxes multiple times, but with no luck. Without the confirmation number, I couldn't check in online. So I called Ryan air. Did you know they charge 10 pence a minute to call their customer service? Ridiculous. Did you further know that they provide another number to call of you'd like to complain about having to pay that 10 pence a minute to talk to a Ryan Air representative? They only charge 5p/minute for this number. Even more ridiculous. I sent them an email in an attempt to avoid the fee but received a reply that directed me to their phone service, so I called. As I waited on hold for what seemed like an eternity, I counted the pences this call was costing me, folded laundry, and attempted to emotionally prepare myself for being informed that I had not actually booked the flight and would walk away from my year in England without seeing Ireland. I was angry. 

I became even angrier when I finally spoke to a customer rep, who said that she found my name in the system, but because I could not provide her with my confirmation number or the email I had used to book my flight (neither of my email accounts were in her system), I wouldn't be able to fly. Insert more angry thoughts here. So I searched through all of my existing email accounts for the 4th time and finally found an email from a third party that I had apparently purchased my tickets through. They had assigned me some random email address to use when checking in online. It was something like my firstname.lastname@wereassigningyouarandomemailtoannoyyou.com. Mission accomplished. However, I was relieved that I would, in fact, be going to Ireland. So I checked in online, printed my boarding pass, and made my way to the airport the following morning. I'm glad I did, because my time in Ireland turned out to be amazing. 
Day 1: I spent my first day meandering the streets of Dublin, touring castles and cathedrals, popping into pastry shops, and getting rained on. 

I attended evensong at Christ Church Cathedral and visited the crypt beneath after the service, discovering the famous cat and mouse chase scene. Creepy.  

My next stop was the Brazen Head, Dublin's oldest pub. Apparently there is always live music on Sunday evenings, so I picked a great time to grab a drink. Found a chair next to the band and proceeded to thoroughly enjoy 1.5 hours of Irish music. 

The banjo player was real cute. I noticed him, he noticed me. We exchanged "I'm noticing you glances" and I managed to get a wink from him. I was sitting next to a group of English guys and proceeded to strike up a conversation. When the music ended, the banjo player came over to our table and introduced himself as Davy. He then informed me that I didn't have to talk to these guys "just because they're English." Haha. We all became friends and decided to check out the pub across the street, where Davy went played banjo again. After drinking a Guinness, which is not delicious even in Ireland, we decided to leave. Davy invited us to his place, which was right around the corner, for drinks. His apartment overlooked the River Liffey, and we had some great times throwing a couple back, listening to Mumford and Sons, and talking politics and economics. 

Next on the agenda was Temple Bar, where Panic at the Disco had supposedly been earlier in the evening. Fun scene. Davy disappeared for a smoke but did not return in time for me to thank him before I disappeared for the train. He was no doubt devastated.

Day 2: Because I was couch surfing 30 mins outside the city center (if you're a poor student and want a free place to stay when you travel, I highly recommend couchsurfing.com), I had to wake up at an ungodly hour to catch the train for the city where my tour bus awaited me. I had booked a day tour of the Cliffs of Moher and was looking forward to seeing these beauties. I sat in the second row from the front on the left. The only other person in our group traveling solo was a cute guy in red chucks sitting in the front row on the right. As I've mentioned in a previous post, Converses are the most universal shoes I have seen in all of my travels. I approve of this. After a couple of hours, our bus pulled into a gas station for a 15 minute break. I wondered around looking at all the snacks and noticed red shoes close by. He stopped next to me and I told him, "I like your kicks." His response: "I don't speak English." Fail. Our conversation ended and we all piled back into the bus. Next stop was at a castle. 

He and I wandered on the same direction and I proceeded to bust out my Spanish skills that have been latent since 2004. Painful, but between his broken English and my broken Spanish, we managed to converse. Eduardo invited me to sit next to him once we got back on the bus, and I happily accepted, both because I was glad to have a friend, and also because the front row had a much better view out the front window. Win win. We toured the cliffs together, taking each other's pictures and walking dangerously close to the edge. 

At one point, the sun was so warm (did I mention that it was a gorgeous day?!) that I took my coat off and put it underneath my purse while I posed for a picture. In a split second and with a big gust of wind, my coat (the coat I was borrowing from a friend) flew out from under my purse and was headed strait over the edge. Literally. It was about to fly off the cliff, when all of the sudden, it stopped. Eduardo lunged for the coat, and I had several mini heart attacks as I did not want to lose either my new friend or my friend's coat to the waves crashing down below. Both survived. 



















The rest of the day was less eventful but equally glorious. Once we got back to Dublin, Eduardo and I exchanged contact info and are now Facebook friends (the best kind of friendship). He's probably going to think I'm super weird for writing about this if he happens to read it, but hopefully that won't affect his invitation for me to visit him in Argentina sometime. I've added that to my list of places to travel. 

Day 3: Took a bus to Galway and spent the day walking around enjoying the sunshine and music. I took my shoes off, played on the sandy beach, sat on a rock and contemplated my life for a while, and got pooped on by a bird. Good times. 

I ended my day back at the Brazen Head for more live music, where I made friends with a family from DC. They just so happen to live next to the guy who oversees Africa for the World Bank and said they'd be happy to put me in touch. I love connections! 

Day 4: My feet were killing me after walking around like crazy for three days, but I was determined to take advantage of my last day in this fabulous city. So I headed to a tour of Kilmainham Gaol (jail). On my way, I stopped to ask an older gentleman if I was headed in the right direction. He said yes, and then told me to look out for Joe Brady in the jail. Said it was his grandfather, who was one of the Irish National Invincibles hanged at the jail in 1883 for the assassination of Secretary Thomas Henry Burke.



































Lo and behold, there was tons of info on this guy at the jail. How cool that I met his grandfather! 





















After a tour of the jail, I spent a leisurely afternoon reading Bossypants by the River Liffey. Great view and great book! If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor and buy a copy. Immediately. I laughed out loud the entire time. 















I've neglected to mention thus far that I did not eat well in Ireland. I gave myself a strict budget, which means I survived on bread, cheese, apples, granola bars, more cheese, coffee, and alcohol. Combined with an estimated 7 miles of walking a day, I'm pretty sure I dropped a couple of pounds. Success! I had some time left before I needed to head to the airport and 13.50 euros in my wallet. I knew I needed 6 for the bus and wanted to give myself a little cushion, but I was also experiencing serious cravings for real food. So what did I do? I found myself a Chinese buffet and grabbed a takeaway box for 5 euros. 















I probably should have gone for an Irish meal instead, but I did not regret my decision. Chinese food is delicious everywhere. I sat on some steps in the Temple Bar area and was serenaded with live music coming from the pub next door. It was awesome. And I ate it all. So much for all that walking. Then I said my goodbyes to Dublin and headed to the airport, so glad that I had found that confirmation email and made it to Ireland. 

Just Do It

Aside from being Nike's globally recognized trademark, these words carry a lot of weight with them. They command. They encourage. They offer a solution.

I've been reflecting quite a bit lately on what it means to 'do.' Google defines 'do' as "performing an action, the precise nature of which is often unspecified." Taking action, even without knowing the exact way to do it or what the result will be. Ambiguous action.

So often in my life, I struggle with moving from thinking to doing. For a while, I haven't been thrilled about a number of my life circumstances. Those of you who know me know that I complain about these things regularly (one of my many positive qualities). I talk about wanting to change things, but I don't always take the steps necessary to instigate the change. I contemplate and worry, but that's usually about as far as it goes. Worry can lead to inaction, and inaction is dangerous. It's stifling.

One of my biggest issues when it comes to making a decision to do something is not knowing what exactly I'm supposed to do. I find myself telling friends quite frequently that I'd love to have a guidebook that tells me how many steps to take in each direction, when to stop, and when to go. I think it's easy to get so caught up in wanting to know exactly what I'm supposed to do that I end up sitting around waiting for clarity, only to let opportunity after opportunity pass me by. Not cool.

Take nine steps in this direction. Stop, do 48 burpees, turn left, and keep walking. 

I'm currently reading a book called Chasing Daylight by Erwin McManus. It's delightful. It's also inspiring. The premise of the book is that each day, we are presented with countless opportunities to do something. To act. Some of those opportunities are more significant than others. He refers those as 'divine moments.'  He says:  

"Some moments have a lifetime of momentum; other moments appear mundane and later prove to be monumental. Every moment is priceless, unique, and unrepeatable. And within the countless numbers that make up our lives, there are divine opportunities awaiting us."

He does not tell us what those divine moments are. I suppose they vary for each of us. And honestly, any moment can be a divine moment, because there is no way to know the full impact an action (or inaction) can have on our lives or on the lives of others. The only way for us to know is to 'do.'

And so, I'm beginning the process of 'doing.' I'm doing something big. It's part exciting and part terrifying, but it's 100% action. Stay tuned for details.

Traveling Reflections

I had every intention of blogging regularly while I was in Portugal, but my busy schedule, and the fact that blogger locked me out of my account because I was signing in from an unusual location, thwarted my attempts. Rather than do a recap of each day (which I may choose to do at a later time), I thought I'd share some of my overall reflections from my time in Portugal. Here they are, in no particular order of importance:

Traveling alone is such an invigorating and empowering experience. Absolute freedom.

The grass is almost always greener on the other side. In Portugal, the buildings were more beautiful, the weather was better, the people were friendlier, the sky was bluer, and the alcohol was cheaper.

It is possible to live primarily on bread and puff pastries for 8 days. 

The affinity for white converses is universal. 

There are so many attractive, well-dressed men in Portugal. So many. 

It is possible to spend two full days with a total stranger and to thoroughly enjoy yourself. At the end of the two days, they no longer seem strange.

Being practically mono-linguistic is embarrassing, especially when nearly every other traveler I met was fluent in at least 3-4 languages.  I walked away inspired to learn.

Many Europeans know more about American history than Americans do.

Canadians are just as loud and obnoxious as Americans when they travel, especially when they’re drunk. 

When in doubt, eat what the locals do. 

It’s great to have an itinerary, but it’s even better to do things on the fly. Some of my best traveling memories were a result of me stumbling across something or meeting someone that I never could have planned for.

Averaging 4 hours of sleep every night is not sustainable. Drinking espressos intermittently throughout the day is an excellent counter balance. For the Portuguese, espressos are not a delicacy. They are a way of life. 

Adventure for One

Adventure: "an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks" or "an exciting or remarkable experience." 

May 25
In less than 24 hours, I will be lounging in a leather seat and sipping a martini on my way to Portugal. Ok, that's a lie. I'll be sitting in coach with no martini, but I'll be starting what I'm anticipating to be a wonderful adventure. For one.

 June 3
Mission accomplished. Adventure for one was a success.

June 11
If you had asked me three years ago if I would consider traveling oversees by myself, my answer would have been "no." I hadn't done it before, and it seemed pretty risky. And frankly, the thought of spending that much time with myself really wasn't all that appealing. Fast forward to January 2011, and I found myself embarking on my first solo international journey to Kristiansand, Norway. It was a work-related trip, so there was structure and schedule and accommodations. But I intentionally scheduled a 3-day weekend to explore Oslo on my own. I was a bit nervous navigating a foreign country, but I survived. In fact, not only did I survive, but I had a fabulous time being by myself. Freedom. My only complaints: the frigid temperatures and the french guy who slept naked in our shared hostel dorm. 

Kristiansand happened two more times, and I used those trips as opportunities to see the remaining Nordic capitals: Stockholm, Copenhagen, Reyjkavik, and Helsinki. Talk about frigid temperatures? Helsinki in January was the coldest I have ever been in my life. There was a moment, while I was waiting at a bus stop, when I literally thought I was going to freeze to death. I survived. 

My international adventures that year taught me several things: This world is a big, big place. I love seeing new places and experiencing new cultures. I am completely capable of traveling on my own in a foreign country. I'm a lot more fun to hang out with that I originally thought.

Fast forward 2.5 years. I bought my ticket to Portugal and booked places to stay. My bank statement told me it was real. When I told people that I was going, they asked me who I was going with. "Myself." Many were surprised. Some were concerned. I was delighted.

My trip to Portugal proved to be even more amazing than I hoped it would be. All of the things experienced and learned in my previous travels were heightened on this trip. I was reminded of the enormity of this world, of the diversity of colors and smells and tastes, of the similarities in laughter and passion and joy across cultures, of my desire to partake in them. It was invigorating. Life giving. An experience that no one can take away from me. Food for the soul.

Adventure.