Torrential Irish rains dampen study abroad experience

Do you think raincoats are an under-appreciated phenomenon of the modern world? I certainly do. If you don’t, or if you have never once considered society’s level of appreciation towards raincoats, you haven’t spent enough time in Ireland: a place trying unnecessarily hard to earn the title of “The World’s Rainiest Country.”

Did you know the national color of Ireland is royal blue? That threw me for a whirl because I would have bet my first-born child on the color being green. But why would I think such a foolish thing? Well, because the number one agricultural product of Ireland is grass. Really, really green grass. It makes sense because it’s hard to have crunchy and brown grass on an island where all the nimbostratus clouds like to hang around and take a load off.

There is the saying, “April showers bring May flowers,” but what about showers in the rest of the months? Maybe, “January showers bring February showers with slightly warmer weather.” Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, but what are you going to do? Sometimes the truth doesn’t come with good rhythm. I don’t mean to sound bitter, but I’d be a liar if I said this rain wasn’t getting to me. I know back in Minnesota, the masses are battling windchill, ice and endless snow, but humor me for a moment. Irish rain is not just light and refreshing, leaving behind the soft scent of springtime and a reminder of life’s vitality. Irish rain is a heavy, never-ending one, leaving behind deep puddles by the sidewalk that cars can never seem to avoid.

I was confused about why jeans weren’t popular in Ireland when I first arrived, but boy do I get it now. Sweatpants tend to dry quickly and have an admirable amount of water resistance to their name. Denim, however? Not so much. I’d like you to find me one person who enjoys the feeling of wet jeans on their legs. If you do, find them a therapist. I didn’t mind the rain when I first arrived. I found it quite enjoyable. It’s kind of like how you love your new teacher for the first few days of school, but then they yell at the class for the first time and then they start seeming less and less cool each day. Irish rain yells. It yells a lot. But Irish rain is still an effective teacher, and I certainly am learning. Irish rain, much like Minnesota snow, has instilled in me a newfound appreciation for sunshine, clear skies and days that would be a crime to miss. However, a “sunny day” in Ireland is really just an hour or two. You’ve got to take what you can get.