After returning from Italy in mid July, I had a few weeks to get my bearings before traveling to Ireland with my family. While my mom’s family is from Ireland and has spent considerable time there throughout my life, we haven’t been in fifteen years. All I remember from visiting when I was five is snippets of a windy beach, driving past sheep, and playing in my grandparents’ house. These small moments were what I based my expectations from for this trip, little did I know how different and more impactful this time would be.
Obviously, Ireland and Italy are quite different. And staying on an island full of my mom’s cousins is not as shocking culturally for me as living in Siena. However, the lessons I learned through my SLA followed me through every day I spent in Achill. The rural town of Poll Raithní (Polranny) where my grandparents’ house is is a different world from my home in Cleveland. Situated on a bog before a mountain and the Achill Sound, a long dirt road away from all but the house my great grandparents built next door and the ruins of the one my great great grandparents built next to that. This adjustment period (US to Achill) was oddly more difficult for me than the adjustment to Italy because of how similar I expected this place to be to home and how wrong I was.
One night, one of my mom’s cousins dropped by with her family for tea and stories. Bridget was born in Cleveland, went to St Mary’s then Harvard for medical school, then moved to Ireland and settled down. Her daughter, Sorcha, who is my age, speaks Irish fluently and told me about the importance of preserving the language. After everything I learned through SLA and the modules, this conversation resonated deeper with me than I knew it would have three months ago.
After their visit, I took extra care over the following days to look for the Irish being spoken and written around me. I know that my grandpa predominately spoke it here before immigrating to the US, and it seemed like many others of his generation are still speaking it around the island. There is also a large modern movement towards reinvigorating the language, every road sign is written in Irish (though often with the English translation underneath for tourists like me) and children are taught Irish in schools. Sorcha also told me about an Irish language summer camp she works at where children spend hours in the classroom learning and speaking Irish. It sounded very similar to my program in Italy, except at Sorcha’s you get sent home if you are caught speaking English 3 or more times.
There is much more I could say about my time in Ireland and how it compares to my time in Italy. But overall the theme of language preservation and the culture stored within a language is the SLA lesson that stuck with me the most. I am looking forward to continuing with Italian this semester, but now I think I’ll start Irish too!