Hearing about the seemingly endless stories of emigration from Ireland with people in search of a better life for themselves, I have begun to realise that my emigration experience is quite different than others. Firstly and despite spending six of the last seven years living and working in some pretty far flung places, I am still not sure I yet consider myself an emigrant.
Maybe this is because I have moved around quite a lot. I am now living in my fourth different country since I first left Ireland. Or maybe it’s because still somewhere deep in my subconscious I still regard Ireland as home.
The second and perhaps more significant difference between my experience and that of most others is that I chose to leave Ireland of my own free will. Unlike many of my peers, I was not compelled to go in search of work or a better lifestyle for myself or family. Going abroad was something I had always intended to do, driven by not only a sense of adventure but also a passion for what I do.
Invariably when I go home, somebody will profess the thought to me “ah sure it’s a terrible shame that so many of you young ones had to leave to find work”. While I am unfortunately not so young any more, I am always obliged to agree the premise but all the while knowing that I would still have left regardless of the economic situation at home.
I thoroughly enjoy my “emigrant” experience. Living where I do and doing what I do, I get to see and experience something different, crazy and unexpected every day. I have seen things and been to places I could never have imagined. I get to spend time with some of the most amazing people in the world from whom I have learned so much about modesty, humility, generosity and strength against incredible adversity. I get to have my opinions, views and prejudices challenged on a daily basis.
I am in the lucky position to have a job that I enjoy - a job that seems to be turning into a career that I enjoy, currently with Action Against Hunger. I get to spend my down time relaxing beside tropical lakes and oceans or wandering around safari parks among wild animals of all descriptions or jostling my way through busy African markets.
Of course home is always missed; family, friends and the everyday Irishisms which you don’t find anywhere else, such as my father’s regular complaint that you can’t get away with anything anymore and meaning it like it is a bad thing.
Ireland is still however, a major part of my life. GAA still forms a big part of my summer Sunday afternoons, The Irish Times is still the first website I check for news, RTE Radio One is still my most listened to radio station, there is always an Irish man running a bar somewhere and I still get the weekly run down of the weather and who has died locally from my mother.
I am sure there are still many more adventures ahead but someday maybe someday, I will turn up on my parent’s doorstep with the words “Ma I’m home”.
