BelFAST & FURIOUS

After my initial experience in Ireland, I wrote a piece for my school's newspaper on what it is like to be abroad in the first few moments. Here it is:

I heard a woman shriek outside my window and woke up to my heart racing and my body in a paralyzed cold sweat. It was my first night in a new country. My first night in Belfast, Northern Ireland.

Now, it must be said that I doubt the woman was in danger. It could be that the woman was drunk or laughing. Whether it was the fear in me, or good old-fashioned jet lag, I spent the rest of the night wide awake. I was thinking about how quickly my subconscious state identified that noise and placed me in a state of danger. Then I thought about how quickly we do that not only when things go “bump in the night” but also in our waking hours. Indeed, how quickly humans stereotype experiences, placing sounds, tastes, people, and conversations into mental storage boxes of our lives.

I spent some days at the beginning of my trip constantly comparing things to my previous experiences. This airplane ride feels longer than my last one. This accommodation is smaller than my other accommodation. This group of internationals is not as fun as another group. On and on my brain went measuring things against each other as I walked down the street. As I did this, I started to become sad. I missed my room, I missed my friends, I missed the old experience.

This brought to mind a parable I heard in Sunday School about old wineskins. A strange story, indeed, for children in church, but allow me to make the connection. Now, I don’t claim to be a biblical scholar, but being an English major, literary allusions are an oft-used device in my daily thought life. This is one example.
Jesus’ parable says:

“No one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the new wine will burst the skins, the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined. No, new wine must be poured into new wineskins. And no one after drinking old wine wants the new, for he says, “The old is better.” (John 5:37-39)

Wine, over time, ferments and becomes intoxicating. The same is true for memories. As time goes by, you remember that moment of your life at its best. Not only distance in space, but distance in time, makes the heart grow fonder. In a way, your memories become intoxicating and cloud your judgment of the present.

So, in order to truly be happy in the present, I’ve found that I must find new spaces, or casks, in my mind. I must open my mind even further so that I am not so quick categorize the new experiences I am sure to have in the upcoming year in Belfast. Rather than limiting myself to a set of characters from my past and casting new people to fill those roles, I am trying to open my mind for a brand new experience. Not doing so could make me miss out on some potentially impactful relationships and adventures in my future. So while past experience can guide you and provide you with skills and understanding, one should not let this harden your heart towards new things; this is what I have learned thus far in my episode in Northern Ireland.