I spent a semester abroad in Northern Ireland during the spring of sophomore year of college. I struggle to put this experience into words; it was a rewarding, life-changing, surreal adventure. I was able to spend three weeks traveling throughout Europe over the Easter holidays. I spent St. Patrick's day in Dublin, had a romance with a French boy, and made friends from all over the globe. I feel like I opened up and became a more adventurous person as a result of studying abroad. There are countless moments and memories I could describe from my time in Europe, but I'll let this poem speak for me instead.
You remember it in
late night take-away
after your third night out.
It's hearing foreign tongues
in your ears, feeling them
in your mouth.
Getting your passport
stamped
in the most enjoyable way.
It's an underground bar
in Prague,
a game of flip-cup,
15 people from 10 countries
like a drunken United Nations.
It's liters of beer,
pots of tea.
Guidebooks
and translation guides.
Airports
and train stations.
Monopoly money
and overpacked suitcases.
It's standing on the grounds
of revolution,
resistance,
rebirth.
It's all the nights you don't remember.
It's the best time of your life.
