AlvernoINK Spring / Fall 2017 - Page 9

Cork. The homes of this crowded city resembled a stack of Legos; colorful blocks organized in no specific order since the country is too small to lay the people straight. The Chicken Goujons transfigured me into a fancy local, most definitely not an American who relies on chicken tenders in any unfamiliar food milieu.

Galway. The land of the edge of Europe, where traditional street performers dance in the rain alongside the Atlantic Ocean. The Skellig Islands are seen from afar for Star Wars fans to swoon over, unknowing that the rocky beehive huts discovered on the tippy, top steps were, in fact, an ancient home to those who believed they were getting closer to the land beyond the sea.

Aran Islands; a purely isolated and Gaelic speaking piece of land in the salty waters of the Atlantic. It is certainly no ideal home for me, despite the wondering dolphins, medieval ruins of spooky cemeteries and churches, homemade fudge, hikes through the rocky hills, and abandoned ships. Though I am drawn to anything and everything uncanny, the seclusion from the rest of dry land can make a person mad. Not to mention, I could have done without the 40-minute ferry ride made up of heaving passengers and ice-cold wave splashes.

County Kerry. My dearest remembrance of the land that I love. As the paddy wagon twisted and turned through the narrow roads along the Ring of Kerry, I supposed there was no reason for my tears to be falling. Red from embarrassment, I peered at the water in all the rider’s eyes. When faced with the beauty of green rolling hills for miles, wandering cotton candy butts, and waterfalls flowing from every cliff, the only reasonable reaction of the body while experiencing nearly every emotion is to set it free when words can’t ever definitively describe them.

Eire. A new piece of my identity, just like my green eyes and messy hair, which only got bigger due to the island’s unvarying humidity. Ireland; a small speck in this world that I long for as I sit patiently waiting in Wisconsin for my next excursion to my motherland.

Jeana Prudhomme