As I mentioned in my first blog, or at least I think I did, I am a Nigerian citizen. When it comes to traveling, that is sort of an important bump in the flow of things. When I was coming into the Ireland, I bought the cheapest ticket available on such short notice and it stopped in Canada and London both ways. At the time, I was so excited about the study abroad that i paid no attention to the ticket.
When I got to Canada, I was stopped by the customs agent and I didnt understand why. He asked me for my visa and I said I have none since Im not going into his country. He looked at me like I was slow and said I need a transit visa. Nigeria is on the list of countries whose citizens require transit visas to get through Canada. I apologized and was about to cry when he decided to give me permission to leave Canada.
About a month ago, i realized I better start getting the proper visas for my return trip. I successfully got the British transit visa. Unfortunately it took a little longer than I thought. That left me with just a mere two weeks to have my documents sent to the UK because that is the closest Canadian Embassy to Ireland. The Canadian embassy in Ireland does not handle visa applications. Then there was a bump in the road. The volcanic ash cloud affected flights to and from the UK so I did not get back my documents until thursday. I was so happy about the documents. Unfortunately though, on opening the package, the passports and other documents were there but they were with a note from the embassy saying I did not hand in the last page of the form. I saw the page, but since I was applying for a transit visa, many of the requirements did not apply to me, so I did not find that page necessary.
It was too late to send anything to the UK so I decided I was going to take the chance of showing up at the airport since I have the British visa. I figured that by the time I get to the Canada,the customs agent wont be able to send me back to Ireland since my stay will be over, and it would make no sense sending me to Nigeria, so they would have no choice but to allow me leave Canada to the United States. My uncle told my dad all that had happened and he was having none of it. He managed to get me a direct flight into the US for the same day. I must admit, i was super happy to have the pressure lifted off me, but knowing my family's financial situation and the cost of the summer classes I have to take, I felt really guilty.
So in conclusion, I HATE traveling. Well, actually, I love traveling when I do not have to go through customs, or try to fit all 50 of my shoes in two small bags, and pay to check my bags. Especially when I used to travel in the good old days when bags were checked for free and passengers were not charged for headphones, snacks, tiny nuts, blankets and pillows, etc.
I am not looking forward to leaving Ireland. I will really miss this country and the people in it. Especially because the weather is getting warmer and I would have loved to see what it is like in the city in the summer. However, knowing Ireland, the weather in the summer might turn out to be pretty unpredictable as well. My next blog will be about re- entry. i hear it can be worse than culture shock.
Two weeks ago, I had the best experience ever. It was Easter and everyone was excited because the school was closed for two days- Friday and Monday. I wasn’t too excited because I don’t have classes on both those days. I was lucky to get an internship at a ticketing company and I work 9- 5 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. On Wednesday, I asked a coworker if we had Friday off since everyone else did. I made sure I was polite about it but I made sure I was loud enough for my boss to hear. I was seriously praying he would give me the day off so that I could catch a ride to Drogheda (my uncle and his family stay there). My plan worked. Getting his attention that is. He joined the conversation and happily and firmly told me that I was expected to come in. I was not too pleased since I had talked to the placement company about it and they had told me I would have both Friday and Monday off.
Ok, I know it seems strange that I am so desperate for an off day. The issue was that, about a month ago, Dublin Business School had its reading week and many people did not come to town. I did though. I went to work as usual. It was only later, when we had our dinner with the internship course professor, we were comparing stories and it appears they did not go to school or their internships that week. Ever since then, I had been trying to keep on top of my days off.
So, back to the story! On Friday, I set out for work as usual, only to find out that it was raining outside, there was barely anyone on the streets, and the trams that went past me were empty. The Capel building I work at was deserted. The receptionist was not there, the coffee shop was closed and all the lights in the lobby were off. When I got to my floor, the door to my office was locked. I started to feel a little worried. I decided to wait a little and leave if no one turned up. I thought it was some sort of April fools prank. To my disappointment, the owner of the company walked into the hallway and unlocked the door. My coworker had come early to open the door but went to the restroom just before I got there. He had locked the door just as a security precaution.
That evening, at about 6pm, I accompanied the company’s part time worker, who happened to be my internship supervisor’s girlfriend. We both have a passion for fashion. She had actually studied it in Germany I believe. She was sweet enough to invite me along to an African fashion weekend show. She had found an article about it in the news paper and thought I would find it interesting. We took the dart going and I found it refreshing. It was not much different from the Luas, and it cost about the same, yet it felt nice to try something new. We didn’t know what direction to take so we followed these two lovely ladies in gorgeous heels. The shoes told us they were heading to a fashion show- beautiful to look at but hard to walk in.
True to African tradition, or what my is known in the States as CPT (colored people time J), the show started about 30 minutes or more late. It was well worth the wait though. The night we went was for press, family and friends, so there were few of us in the audience. The designers were only showing about a third of their collections and the host interviewed the designers to while away time as the models got ready to show another collection. It was well worth the money and the wait.
We took the bus into town and split up. The lady, Maria, was terrified to leave me to find my way home. She wanted to pay for my transportation home, but I was having none of that. She had spent so much on me already, that the extra 1.50 to take the luas home, would have killed me. Town was quite busy and I must admit, I was a little scared. I believe I did a 30 minute walk in about 15 to 20. I all but ran home that night. I was terrified someone would mug me or kidnap me.
This post is a bit delayed but I just could not leave out the biggest celebration I would experience here in Ireland.
My roommate had a friend over from Spain. They both attend the same school back in the US and she wanted to witness st. Patricks here in Dublin. She planned to see a bit of the celebration here and return to spain in time for the celebration they were having there, Fallas de San Jose.
According to Spain.info.com,
“This Fiesta dates from the Middle Ages, but it did not acquire the personality we know today until the middle of the last century. The festivites include a nighttime parade; a procession of the old towns of Valencia; the offerings of flowers to Nuestra Senora de los Desamparados (Our Lady of the Forsaken), patroness of the city; and the famous "Nit del Foc" (Night of the Fire), on which all the "fallas" (grotesque and humorous scenes made up of carboard figures) are burned.”
Back to Ireland though, my roommates and the rest of the more social exchange students went out to pubs on Tuesday night to celebrate. They got back in at like 4 am and were the first to get up in the Irish spirit when a bagpiper came into the black hall place courtyard to play some tunes for us. Everyone got dressed and headed into town. I figured I could catch just a little more sleep but it turned out “a little” became some hours.
I woke up just in time to get a quick shower and head to the Luas (the Dublin tram) only to find out that my neighbourhood was the last stop for all trams because the city transportation systems were all temporarily shut down for the parade. I had to high tail it to town in order to meet the rest of the FIE group. When I got to O’Connor street, it was a sea of green white and orange. A ton of people were in the streets staring in the same direction but no one could see anything. I am only 5 feet 2 so it was quite a sight seeing me navigate through the crowd as fast as they would let me through. When I finally made it to the front of the parade, I had to wait till there was a pause in the march and the Garda let us cross.
That was my only view of the parade. I was able to meet with the group and follow them to Croke Park where we enjoyed watching gaelic football and hurling matches for free.It was quite chilly but it was still lovely.
That night, everyone went out to the pubs for round two of the fun nights out. Unfortunately, due to miscommunication with my friends, I just had a quiet night in. All in all, it was a great celebration that I am glad I was here in Ireland for.
