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Throughout the fall, our friends Michael and Gabrielle spent much of their time in kitchens and delivery trucks, visiting food stands and local markets.  In doing so, they were able to highlight some interesting angles of the local and community-oriented food scene in DC.  After spending time interviewing and writing, taking photos and creating video slide shows, some of their work is now online on The Atlantic’s food blog, and more of it will be posted soon.

Take a look at what they’ve created, and learn a little bit more about food in Washington, DC.  I’ll post links to other articles as they become available.  Enjoy!

Since we left Ireland, my life has been sort of a big, beautiful blur.

Leaving Ireland was, as expected, nearly impossible to do.  Saying goodbye to our idyllic lives by the sea and our lovely group of Irish friends was really, really sad.  We tried our best to keep our chins up and to enjoy every last second – all the while working on our theses and packing up another year of our lives.  We did take some time to check a couple of things off of our list, including spending an afternoon at the historic Tigh Neachtain pub with friends.

A perfect June afternoon at Tigh Neachtain

After a teary goodbye at the Galway train station, we were off … on our way to our whirlwind tour of America.

First stop: My hometown of Mahtomedi, Minnesota.  We made it just in time for my dear friend Hilary’s wedding, and spent the week both working on schoolwork as well as catching up with family and friends.

We had a lovely time with family, and loved seeing Grandma M and her newest quilts.

Next: Rockford, Illinois.  This time, Jon’s family and friends (and don’t forget those pesky theses).  We crammed a lot of quality time in with parents, grandparents, and our adorable little nephew.

Ryne's got a golf club in his hand - he LOVES to play golf!

Next stop: Chicago, Illinois, for a very quick hello & goodbye to our dear friends Becca and Sam. As luck would have it, we’re finally in the US  just as they’re on their way to South Africa for a year.  Good thing we have that wonderful kind of friendship that you can just pick right up where you left off.

Becca & Sam, Lauren & Jon reunion

Next? Naples, Florida, and then the Everglades, and Miami, Florida.  Jon and I were so excited to visit my mom’s new home in beautiful Florida.  Moving to a warmer climate has been one of my mom’s lifelong dreams, and it’s been so much fun for me to see her in her element in Florida.  Unfortunately, we STILL (!) had thesis work while we were visiting the tropics, but at least we could escape our punishing academic work by going to the beach.

Miami beach.

Well, we’re not done quite yet.  Next, we spent a week in Washington, D.C. We got to attend an annual Mitchell Scholar party and officially started the job search by doing informational interviews.  In between, we visited with friends and worked on theses.  And then… after many months and a final all-night session, I FINISHED MY THESIS!  It’s officially printed and turned in.  I am just waiting to hear back whether or not I’ll pass! 🙂

(I neglected to take a single photo in DC… not like me, but my mind was very much elsewhere).

Right now, Jon and I are sadly separate.  He is in Rockford, putting the finishing touches on his thesis and spending more time with family, and I am back in Florida with my mom.  The big news here is that she just got an adorable puppy: Mabel, a teeny tiny Italian Greyhound.

Me & Mabel

Although the last couple of weeks have been spent solely in the US, we’ve seen so much it seems like we must have left the country a couple times.  We’ve had moments of quintessential Americana, like catching a Saint’s Baseball game with my dad, watching a small-town fireworks display with Jon’s dad, and walking along the Washington DC monuments at night.  We’ve also seen the diversity of American life: I talked with my friend Tena about her Somali students in Minneapolis, visited a wedding shop in search of a traditional Korean dress with my sister in Chicago, and enjoyed Brazilian food in Miami for Jon’s birthday.

Overall, it’s been a beautiful blur of a couple of weeks.  We’re still not quite sure what’s happening next in our lives – where we’ll be “settling down” or what jobs we’ll have, but we’ll be sure to keep you posted.  Until then, you can be sure that we’ll be savoring our downtime in the good ole USA.

Last week the other Mitchells and I gathered for our last Irish adventure.

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First, we had an event at Farmleigh, once the home of the Guinness family in Dublin, where we received rings commemorating our year in Ireland.  The President of Ireland, Mary McAleese, was on hand to present them to us.  It was a lovely reception, and President McAleese was a wonderful speaker and very warm in person.

The next day, we headed to Glenstal Abbey, a monastery in County Limerick.  The Abbey is situated on some gorgeous grounds with glens, conifer forests, and gardens.  We were given a guided tour by one of the monks, who told us the history of certain trees, and wove in thoughtful reflections on humans, their environment, and life in general.  We also got a chance to visit a small chapel that holds a number of old Russian and Greek icons, complete with explanations of icons and the Orthodox church from a monk who has written books on the topic. Afterwards, we visited the Abbey’s library, which holds a number of rare and antique manuscripts, including texts from the 1400s and first edition Irish novels.  Oh, and how could I forget the tea and freshly baked cakes and pastries that awaited us when we needed a break!  All in all, the most perfect way I can imagine to spend an afternoon.

The remainder of our final retreat was spent in the town of Listowel and at the gorgeous Glin Castle.  We were in Listowel, in County Kerry, for the annual Writer’s Week festival, which brings in authors and poets and playwrights and artists for readings, discussions, and plays.  Two of the highlights for me were seeing The World’s Wife, a play based on the poetry of British Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy, and hearing Irish author Roddy Doyle read some of his work and answer questions.  I also had a lot of time just hanging out around town with the Mitchells, which was nice.

I hadn’t thought too much about the goodbye at the end of the weekend.  So I was not prepared for the dread and sadness I felt as we pulled up to the Limerick train station at the end of the weekend, where I hopped out to take a train back to Galway.  Although I know that I’ll be seeing my Mitchell friends pretty frequently in the years to come – both at official Mitchell alumni events and wherever else we happen to be – suddenly I realized that this goodbye marked The End of our year in Ireland as a group.  This makes me acutely aware that it is almost time to say goodbye to everything else in Ireland – our gorgeous apartment, my wonderful Irish friends, and beautiful Galway.

Before the goodbyes, though, I have to finish a draft of my thesis. I’ll be trying to focus all of my energy on that rather than mourning my departure.  Hopefully I’ll be able to turn some sad emotions into positive outcomes… Wish me luck (I’ve got a week and a couple days to go for the thesis draft)!

Bill and I getting ready for a rollercoaster ride in Bremen, Germany. October 2009.

The Mitchell Scholars’ third set of reflections about our time in Ireland has been posted.  I’m re-posting mine here, but you should definitely check out the other scholars’ writing too!

***

What do you want to be when you grow up? It’s a question that you are asked a thousand times as a child, and with less frequency as an adult. At various points in my life, I’ve known exactly what I’ve wanted to be (in no particular order): an archaeologist, journalist, Broadway actress, Vanna White, neonatologist, gymnast, explorer, or rainforest researcher. I’ve been asking the question to myself lately, trying to decide what my next step should be in my quest to become someone who does international development work for a living. But as I ponder what I hope to become, I can’t help but think about who I want to become. It’s a subtle difference, but an important one. The what is about profession and the who is about character.

My time in Ireland as a Mitchell Scholar has introduced me to a number of people that give me insight and inspiration into what and who I want to be. I’ve encountered them at Mitchell events, in my program here at NUI Galway, and in my daily life in and around this beautiful country.

Let’s start with someone pretty easy, and fairly obvious: George Mitchell. Although I haven’t met him, this year has given me a lot of exposure to his life and work. The sheer number of roles that Senator Mitchell has taken on is inspiring – judge, Senator, peace broker, Chancellor of Queens University Belfast… the list goes on. Although I could probably write a dissertation-length essay about how Senator Mitchell inspires me professionally, I’ll just highlight one point here. After a life filled to the brim with public service, Senator Mitchell has certainly earned a relaxing retirement on the golf course in Arizona. Instead, he said yes when he was asked to take on arguably today’s most challenging issues: the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. His life-long commitment to service is something I will always strive to emulate in my own career.

Another person that I have taken career inspiration from is Naila Kabeer. Dr. Kabeer is one of the preeminent scholars on women’s employment and empowerment in the Global South. My department hosted her for a public lecture last week, and she also facilitated a private session with my classmates and me earlier in the day. Dr. Kabeer has spent her career trying to understand how women are able to make decisions in their lives, and her research directly impacts what development agencies do on the ground. Dr. Kabeer’s explicit link between academia and the lived experience of marginalized people is something I hope to be able to bring to my career as well, no matter what role I am in.

While Senator Mitchell and Dr. Kabeer have taught me a lot about what I want to be professionally, others I have met in Ireland have reminded me of how I want to live my life. Of course, it goes without saying that I am constantly learning from the other Mitchell Scholars and taking inspiration from them. I still cannot get over how energetic and ready to learn the group is – constantly open to new experiences and new ideas. And I could extol their virtues for another dissertation-length essay. I will spare you the mushy stuff, this time, but please know that the Mitchells are a well of perpetual inspiration for me.

My Irish friend Bill has been a model for me in terms of the kind of person I want to be, as he is one of the most hospitable people I have ever met. Hospitality may seem a minor thing – that is, until you are lost and alone in a new place and don’t know who to turn to for help. Michael met Bill right at the start of the year and introduced Jon and me to him several days after we arrived in Galway. From the start, Bill has been warm, welcoming, and helpful. Anytime we have had a stupid question about Irish life, we’ve known that Bill is the person to ask. He always gives great advice and doesn’t make you feel like a fool for asking about the tipping protocol at a café or where to find reasonably priced office supplies. Bill’s ability to take in total strangers and treat them as equals and friends is something I would like to practice in my own life. Although I think that Irish people generally do welcoming and hospitality quite well as a culture, I still think that Bill wins an award for the best!

If you’ve been reading the other Mitchell scholar’s entries already, I have a feeling you’ve stumbled across a character known to us fondly as Sir John. Sir John is a 94-year-old aristocrat from Monaghan and a man who has lived a very full life. Growing up in Castle Leslie, a glorious estate on the border of Northern Ireland and the Republic, Sir John led an exceptional life from the beginning. He went on to fight in World War II and was held as a prisoner of war. Sir John later traveled the globe, and settled for 40 years in Rome, rehabilitating old buildings to their former splendor. When he returned to Ireland 15 years ago, Sir John decided to focus his energy on something new: dancing. Not just old time Irish step dancing, but clubbing. Weekly, Sir John gets dressed in his Saturday best and hits up his two favorite Monaghan spots, the Squealing Pig pub and the Forum club. We were invited for a night out with Sir John during our midyear retreat at Castle Leslie and danced alongside him while he jumped enthusiastically to Lady Gaga. It really was a sight to behold. After meeting Sir John, I have taken a new approach to thinking about aging. Now, I don’t want to age gracefully, but I want to age the way that he has: with reckless abandon and complete joy.

These examples represent just a handful of those I’ve taken inspiration from this year. I know that I will always look back to my year as a Mitchell Scholar as hugely formative – not just professionally, but personally as well.

Apart from furious paper writing, the past week has been almost completely defined for me by the craziness of the Icelandic volcano. Now that the chaos has subsided a bit, I thought I’d reflect on all the ways we’ve experienced the volcano’s effects over the past week.

  • If it weren’t for that stupid volcano, Jon and I would be enjoying time with his mom and grandma, here in Galway, at this very moment. They were due to arrive on Wednesday this past week, but their flight was cancelled. We are just sick about not being able to see them, but there was nothing anyone could do about it! We are slightly consoled by the fact that we’ll be home in the US in just about two months. But we are missing both Cindy and Vanesse this week!
  • We had one unexpected guest for a night, which was a pleasant surprise! A friend of mine from Northwestern, Robert, got stuck in Ireland for almost a week. We hadn’t seen each other since graduation, so it was really great to catch up face to face. I got to show off my beautiful adopted hometown and hear more about Robert’s life in Los Angeles. Robert is a budding travel writer/movie maker, and is documenting his epic Europe adventure (and other travels) here. Check it out – he’s hilarious! – and I’m sure he will be a household name someday.
  • Michael (my fellow Mitchell scholar/dear friend in Galway) got to spend a whole extra week with his visiting friend, Ryan, while he was in travel purgatory here in Ireland. Poor Ryan was the best man in a wedding which took place yesterday, and worked so hard to get home in time for it. He ended up getting a flight that would bring him home to Chicago just in the nick of time… so we trust that he eventually made it!
  • One (of many) sad local stories we heard: An older gentleman in Ballybofey turned 80 last weekend. He was born in England but settled in Ireland. To celebrate his big day, he had all of his relatives flying in from England and elsewhere: kids, grandkids, brothers, sisters, cousins. Everyone. Of course, all flights were cancelled and no one could come. Apparently, he held the party anyway, but was devastated that his most dear friends and family were an island away. Breaks your heart just thinking about it!
  • The market for flights has been all messed up ever since the volcano. Jon still needs to buy his one-way flight home, and the prices have jumped pretty significantly – we’ll have to wait for them to drop a bit. And Ryanair has used this as an opportunity for a big promotion – over the weekend they advertised dozens of flights at only 3 euros each way!

All in all, it’s been a pretty crazy, surreal week. Full of stories about the strange ways that this volcano (and by extension, air travel) has affected our daily lives. It has brought people together in unexpected ways (seeing Robert again!) but also kept people apart (Cindy and Vanesse). And it has reminded us that, although we’ve been able to use technology to do some pretty amazing things, Mother Nature is still boss.

Living far away from home sheds new light on the value friends and family have for a full life. To viscerally miss someone(s), although painful and even harmful, is quite an educational undertaking.

Its this realization, I suppose, that led a particular quote from one of Isaiah Berlin’s letters to jump out at me recently.

Isaiah Berlin was a British diplomat and philosopher during the mid 20th century. Some would call him the century’s preeminent thinker. I’m not yet convinced of that, but this doesn’t take away from the joy that comes with reading his letters. In an age where curt emails dominate written discourse, its fun to think about someone spending so much time writing thoughtful letters.

The quote that caught my attention came from a letter Berlin wrote to a news correspondent named Morton White in 1970. According to the editor of Berlin’s letters, Henry Hardy of Oxford College, Berlin wrote that “Life is not worth living unless one can be indiscreet to intimate friends.”

After reading this on a Google Books version of Hardy’s volume, admittedly, I grabbed for my dictionary. Indiscreet is one of those words I know the approximate meaning for, but not the precise one. My Mac dictionary tells me that it literally means showing too great a readiness to reveal things that should remain in secret.

Good point, Isaiah, I thought after checking the meaning. The value of old, close acquaintances is that they give you the benefit of the doubt. There is a basis of trust that comes only from history which allows you to say things you may not fully mean or haven’t fully thought through. I think the value Berlin sees in this is that people have an intrinsic need to “think out loud” among trusted others…it allows us to sort ourselves out and practice becoming in the context of a community.

As I often do after reading something that gives me pause, I did a google search for “Berlin indiscreet friends” to see if anyone had written more commentary on the quote. Doing so revealed something interesting. Depending on the source, Berlin’s quote is written using either indiscreet or indiscrete. Which is correct, I thought? Quickly realizing I would probably need more than an internet connection to answer that question, I started to think about what the second use, indiscrete meant. On this, my Mac gives the literal definition of not divided into distinct parts.

Mmm. Well, whether or not Berlin meant to, I think he provides us with a double entendre that pretty accurately sums up the value of intimate friends. They allow you to be fully open (indiscreet), and fully whole (indiscrete). In short, they allow you to be free. And since freedom is intrinsically valuable beyond measure, I think Berlin is quite right to say that “Life is not worth living unless one can be indiscreet/indiscrete to intimate friends.”

Right now Jon and I are skyping with our Ugandan friends: Stephen, who is studying at Notre Dame, in the US, and his wonderful girlfriend Winnie, who is working in Gulu, Uganda. We are recalling memories of our last double date at an Indian restaurant in Gulu and talking about current events in Uganda. Stephen is sharing some of his thinking about some new ideas he has for projects in northern Uganda. Winnie  keeps asking us when we are coming back.

I’m struck by how much joy these little interactions give me. To be able to hear both Winnie’s and Stephen’s voices while we are on completely separate continents feels like some sort of miracle.

A little bit of simple joy for my Wednesday afternoon.

It is almost 11 on a Tuesday night, and I should be reading, writing, and applying to jobs. Instead, I am extremely distracted. Not by the singing revelers outside my window, welcoming St. Patrick’s Day a couple hours early – although, that is a bit distracting. It’s this news that the Kasubi Tombs, in Kampala, have burned down tonight.

The Kasubi Tombs as they burn. Photo by Joseph Kiggundu, Daily Monitor.

The Kasubi Tombs are more than important cultural and historic structures to me. When we lived in Uganda, they were my neighbors. Our apartment was at the bottom of Kasubi Hill, and we passed the Tombs every day to and from downtown Kampala. We took numerous visitors to see the tombs to learn more about the Buganda tribe, its history and culture. I always loved passing the guards of the Tombs; dressed in the traditional saffron-colored robe and leaning against the big tree out front, they waited patiently to greet the next set of visitors.

the Kasubi Tombs in October 2008

Nobody knows yet why the Tombs went up in flames. I’ve already seen a couple of theories floating around online. None of the theories involve an accident.

In the last several months, there has been much tension between the ruling party, the NRM, and the Buganda kingdom, relating to a land dispute. Riots in October went on for about two weeks and killed a number of people and damaged property all over Kampala. It is easy to draw a connection between this earlier dispute and tonight’s fire. If this theory proves to be true, it could mean a fresh set of riots and worsening ethnic tensions.

Another theory revolves around more recent news. Just last night, a security guard opened fire on students at a hostel near Makerere University. Two students were killed – both were Kenyan. Today, students protested at Makerere and through the surrounding neighborhoods. Could this be related to the Tombs burning? Or, was the fire just an accident?

Setting aside the question of how this could happen, my mind has been racing thinking of my friends and acquaintances in Kasubi. Were our boda boda-driving friends there to witness this important site being burned to the ground? What is happening in the neighborhood now – any rioting or general panic? How are John and Gladys and Alex and Mabel? What will happen tomorrow?

For the moment, all I can do is send positive thoughts their way. And attempt to dust off the distraction and try to get back to work.

My quarterly reflections on my time in Ireland are newly posted on the Mitchell Scholar website, along with the reflections of my friends, the other Mitchells.  I’m cross-posting mine here, for you all to read, but do check out some of the other scholars and what they have to say about their experiences in Ireland!

*****

I expected that making friends … real friends … in Ireland would take time. That it would be a delicate process, and subject to awkward exchanges and uncertain social cues. During my first few weeks in Galway, I fearfully imagined leaving Ireland feeling like I had made no real friends whatsoever. The strange events of a single day have led me to believe, though, that those fears were completely foolish.

This is the story of how what should have been my worst day in Ireland turned out to be one of the best.

It was 1 pm on Saturday, January 16. I was sitting in my pajamas (I know, 1 pm and still in my pajamas?!), hoping to gain some inspiration for this Mitchell reflection by reading some of the past scholars’ writing, when a knock came at the door. I sheepishly shuffled over to answer the door. Two of my Irish classmates, Avril and Laura, were waiting outside. They both looked alarmed.

Immediately, Avril asked, “Are you ok?”

Ok? Why would she ask that? I thought. Sure, Jon was back in the US, leaving me all by myself and a little lonely, but hopefully I didn’t give off such a fragile flower vibe. “Of course I’m ok. Why?” We moved inside to the living room and sat down.

Avril explained. She had received 6 blank text messages from me throughout the morning. When she called me back to see if something was wrong, an unfamiliar, incoherent man’s voice picked up the phone. Avril panicked. A million terrible thoughts went through her head. She called up Laura and they marched over to my place, half expecting to find me held hostage. During the walk over, they (seriously) devised a number of attack plans for my rescue.

Tickled that they took my personal safety so seriously, I went about the business of figuring out what I had done with my phone. The last time I had seen it was the night before as Michael and I headed to the corner Spar to pick up the ingredients for chocolate soufflés. I thought it was in my purse… but then where did I put my purse? I searched the house. It was in none of its usual spots. The notion that my entire purse was not lost but…stolen…started creeping into my consciousness. I logged onto my credit card account online and sure enough, found a brand new $86 charge to Vodaphone that I did not make.

Throughout the next couple hours, Laura, Avril and I became the best Private Investigators we could. We swapped theories, brainstormed methods of tracking “our man” down, and watched a couple of youtube videos for a laugh when we got sick of the serious stuff. Laura made grilled cheese sandwiches, Avril put the kettle on for tea, and I Skyped banks and credit card companies. We finally came to the conclusion that the thief snatched my bag from my unlocked apartment’s entryway while Michael and I were focused on the soufflé baking in the room next door. Despite my frequent reminders that they did not have to stay with me, Laura and Avril didn’t leave. Instead, they kept me company all day long.

After we had visited the Garda station a couple of times, searched through the foliage in front of my apartment, and eaten some cookies, we called off the investigation for the evening. Avril invited us to walk along the Promenade towards Salthill, a ritual that she performs every single day. Laura and I agreed, threw on a couple of extra layers, and we were off.

As we reached the bay, the salt in the air was thick. The tide was in, and the waves were crashing against the rocks menacingly. The wind picked up, and suddenly we were in the middle of what felt like a hurricane. Laura and I struggled against the wind, and tiny, cold pellets of rain assaulted us from the sky. Avril pushed forward. “THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE ALIVE!” She shouted, skipping onward. Laura and I, half laughing and half terrified that we were about to be swallowed by the sea, followed along until we noticed a sprightly old woman coming straight for us.

“Grab on to me, girls!” She cried. “I’m going to be blown into the sea!” Laura grabbed the small woman (“She must’ve weighed 4 stone!” Laura later remarked) by the arm, and the four of us turned around and walked back towards town. After the wind died down, our older friend insisted we let her continue on her own. Laura and Avril then realized that they had “rescued” not one, but two people in one day. Not bad for a random Saturday in January.

While Laura and Avril certainly rescued me that day, they weren’t the only ones worried about my wellbeing. After the walk through the hurricane, I was home drying off and foraging for dinner, when there was another knock at my door. Jada, another classmate, a peppy, talkative American, was standing outside. “How are you doing!? What happened? Are you ok?” Jada bounced into the apartment. I told her my ordeal, she sympathized, and we moved on to a more important topic: her date with a very eligible Irish lad.

Some time later, after Jada had left, another knock on my door. It was Michael, who had given up a fun night out with his class to come to provide me with a little extra security. He threw down his overnight bag in the guest bedroom and joined me in the living room.

It was at about this moment that I realized: I have somehow managed to acquire this incredible support network. In a new city, a new country. In a matter of months. Irish friends, American friends, and of course, my reliable Mitchell crew. All ready to lend me money until my new laser card arrives, sit with me while I deal with banks over a lousy Skype connection, and just spend time with me so the house feels less empty. Avril and Laura were ready to literally save me from an evil kidnapper if they needed to. (I found out later that Avril had quickly devoured a bowl of cereal just before leaving her house to rescue me. Just in case she was going to be in a hostage situation without food for a long time. You know.)

And that’s just the kind of realization that can turn a bad day into a brilliant one.

This was our motto throughout Ellen’s visit to Ireland. Thinking of getting another pint of Bulmer’s at the pub? Go ahead – you only live once. Should we go to Blarney castle despite the snow and the fact that the roads are nearly impassable? Probably, since you only live once. Chat with some intoxicated guys (who all seem to be named Paddy) about politics on your way home at night? Well, you only live once.

We were so lucky to have Ellen visit us for 2 whole weeks, while we were on break and feeling relaxed after a nice Christmas. We tried to take advantage of the time off from work to explore, but came up against an old enemy when trying to make plans: the weather. It’s been a while since the weather has prevented us from doing much – after all, Uganda is pretty much perfect all year long, and we visited the midwest in its prime over the summer. And although I didn’t think the weather was really that bad, Ireland was definitely not prepared for it. So we took advantage of as much as we could, and when we were doubtful about whether or not to go ahead with a plan, we asked ourselves the question: “How many times do you live?” The answer: just once. And we had a blast. Exhibits A and B:

Blarney Castle, beautiful in the snow!

a lovely view of Dublin from the top of the Guinness Brewery.

Ellen really made some tracks around Ireland during her two weeks. We spent a couple of days in Dublin, mostly sliding around on the icy sidewalks and thinking about our next cup of tea. We also visited Christchurch cathedral, the Dublin Writer’s museum, a couple of cute pubs, and paid a visit to Muireann and Liam. We had the pleasure of being accompanied by Michael and his friend Jackie, who was also visiting him.

After Dublin, we took a quick trip to Cork and got to spend time with another Mitchell scholar, Jon, and explore the pleasant city. We also made a (very quick!) trip to Blarney Castle, which was breathtaking in the snow… but also VERY cold. Ellen later took day trips to the Cliffs of Moher and to Sligo.

And how can we forget our time in Galway? We did some great ‘traditional’ Irish stuff with Ellen – traditional music at the Crane Bar, dancing at Monroe’s Tavern, walking along the Promenade, and meandering through town.

All in all, it was a fantastic two weeks, and so great to have Ellen here with us. Since we lived together until I moved to Uganda, it was just like old times. Having friends like Ellen come through has reminded me and Jon how lucky we are to have such incredible people in our lives. And it has given us the opportunity to get outside of our normal Galway routine and live a little more. We are blessed indeed.

we'll miss you Ellen!

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Welcome to our blog! Follow along with us as we travel and experience life as a couple of 20-somethings - with all its ups and downs. We hope to post photos, short videos, stories about our daily life and not-so-daily adventures, and thoughts on what’s going on in the world.

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