When I tell people that I willingly moved to Dublin from my home of New York, the response is like a refrain. “Why would you come here?” I am asked. Why, that is, with all the social issues, the housing crisis, the smallness of Ireland, the cost of living, the lack of opportunities for young people? When I tell them of my years-long dream of studying Irish literature, many of them sit back nodding with sympathy at my ‘naivete’. I’ve heard my fair share of “Ah, bless her” moments.

Well, I’m here to settle the score. Romantic Ireland is far from dead and gone. It is, in fact, very much alive, and bubbling away right under our feet. To be an international student in Ireland has been more transformative and rewarding than I ever could have imagined. But like any good thing, it takes a bit of marinating.

From the outset, everything felt within reach. I could move to a city I had never seen, in a country I did not know physically and travel internationally for the first time. I was 20 when I emigrated to Dublin in the summer of 2020, at the height of the pandemic. I moved into a small room on Leeson Street, with a view overlooking Adelaide Road, and I could see the Dublin mountains if I stood in the corner of the room across from the window.

For the first two weeks, I sat in the room with the windows open, waiting out a government-imposed quarantine. I couldn’t fix the radiator which stayed on all day and through the night, nor could I figure out where to buy a fan. It occured to me to ring the landlord and enquire about the radiator, I never reached out, because I thought it was common knowledge. “Was anyone ever so young? I am here to tell you that someone was,” Joan Didion aptly wrote in Slouching Towards Bethlehem.

Most Important People

All I could do was call my family and tell them I had been to Stephen’s Green and St. Patrick’s Cathedral, while, in truth, I lay prostrate on my bed. As it happened, I didn’t visit Stephen’s Green for several weeks. I walked around the perimeter, scared to enter, scared to look like a tourist, scared to look lost, scared to actually get lost. But I couldn’t admit that I was squandering my time in Dublin, that I was homesick but couldn’t return, that I so anxiously feared starting anew.

I missed the familiar. I missed home. My room in Dublin was sweltering and I couldn’t figure out the shower. I had not a single Irish phone number to ring, and the safety net of childhood seemed to be unravelling under me. I was free, which at once terrified and excited me no end.

Here’s the thing about starting college: to one degree or another, everyone is nervous about discovering how they might flourish in early adulthood; even Irish students weren’t immune to the disquieting anxieties of starting anew. It didn’t take long for me to realise that there was a shared disquiet between my five roommates, all in different colleges, and myself. After enough chance encounters in the kitchen, I reached out and asked if they wanted to go for a coffee in the park.

They all said yes. It was that easy. Soon enough, it was like we were joined at the hip, collectively navigating life without training wheels, through big shop runs, figuring out public transport, exploring the city. Many of the friends you first make in college may not stick around until your final year, but they became some of the most important people I will ever meet, during that frightful transition.

No Wrong Direction

Relocating to Ireland for college was more exhausting than I ever could have imagined, but it’s exceeded my wildest expectations tenfold. There’s a lot we have to keep track of: residence permits, finding accommodation (a Herculean task at best), setting up a living space, visas if applicable, public service cards – anything to prove our place in society. Keeping a diary is essential for staying on top of things and though it’s somewhat tedious, you get used to it with time.

Then came the task of navigating the education system. Coming from the United States, it was a wholly new experience to dive straight into my course studies. Back home, students might not even declare their major (or course) until their junior (third) year, and the first two years are often spent in general education classes (maths, science, literature and so on). My advice for getting used to the Irish third-level system? Take advantage of any resources available on campus, from student advisers to the students’ union; make friends with your coursemates; and last, but certainly not least, join societies.

Also: Make the most of your weekends. During my first year, one of my favourite Saturday pastimes was to go for a very long walk without a map and flip a coin at every possible turn (heads for right, tails for left). Dublin is an incredibly walkable city, and you’d be surprised at how quickly you get to know the place.

Copyright Miguel Ruiz.

As for social life, the best way to get to know Dublin and its lovely people – at least in my experience – will not be on campus for the most part. The quickest way I made friends was by working part-time in different shops and cafés. Making friends with people outside of my university circles – students from other colleges, the workplace, extraneous clubs – has been incredibly enriching.

They’ve taken me under their wing and showed me around, invited me to stay with their families, dragged me to the pub to meet their friends and showed genuine fascination with my life in America. They introduced me to Guinness, to chicken fillet rolls, to Father Ted, to TG4, to the “people’s princess” Marty Whelan, to Jedward, and to their own dialect and colloquialisms. Then there’s their language, their families and fellow people – and the country’s enduring and often painful history.

I would have caught a flight back home within a year if it weren’t for the abiding kindness and hospitality of the Irish people, who always tried to make me feel at home (even if that meant a bit of slagging as a rite of passage).

I’m older now, and I see Dublin differently. Being an international student has fostered the kind of growth I could have never foreseen. A lot of it was hard, but I can’t say those difficult times stand out in my memory. Us international students have to keep an eye on our place in society far more than Irish citizens. Our existence and the regular admin can feel somewhat tedious at times.

But these four years have been some of the best years of my life by far. I’ve learned more and seen more than I could possibly fathom. You get used to the changes with time. The only advice I can give you is this: bask in the moment. You did it, you left the comforts of home and entered the “real world” in a foreign country as a college student.

It may feel like the odds are stacked against you, and sometimes they are. It will be hard at times. But remember this: you’re doing it and you have a lot of people cheering you on.

Read the full Hot Press Student Special Part 2 in our new issue – out now: