Stories From Sarah's Suitcase

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.

How did I end up here?

My debit card isn’t working. My mom told me I should convert US dollars to euros before I left, but I didn’t listen. I was stubborn. I said taking cash out at an ATM would be cheaper, easier.

I’m standing in Dublin Airport, by myself. I have no idea what I should do. I only have $15 on me. Who goes to a foreign country with no money?

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod.

Ok, breathe. Just breathe. Find another ATM.

Four ATMS later, I find a bank that accepts my card. I take out a ridiculous amount of cash, fearing I will run into the same problem later.

Ok, I have money. Small victories, right? Breathe. Find a taxi.

I drag my bags outside, not noticing the people, the different accents, the unfamiliar language on the signs. My mind is racing. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here on my own. Why did I think I could just move to Ireland?

I hop into a waiting cab, and give the driver the address of my hostel. He’s confused because I accidentally pronounce “quay” as kew-ay, rather than the Irish pronunciation, key.

The driver chuckles at my mistake, and asks what brings me to Ireland.

I tell him everything. Once I start talking, I can’t seem to stop. I tell him how a year ago, I heard about Working Holiday Visas. I worked for a year, saved for a year, all for this. To move to Ireland.

I tell him my mother was meant to travel with me, help me get settled my first week in Dublin. I tell him that yesterday, the night before our flight, I realize my mother’s passport has expired.

I tell him about the second-guessing. How surely, this must be a sign that I wasn’t meant to go. How my family shares their concerns with me, telling me I will never find a job, never be able to support myself in Ireland.

I tell him how those hours leading up to my flight are some of the most stressful and confusing of my life.

Breathe. Just breathe.

He tells me his daughter, who is my age, did the same thing in Australia. He worried about her, wanted to know someone was looking out for her on the other side of the world.

We arrive at my hostel. He helps me with my bags. I turn to pay him, and he hands me his business card. He says if I ever need anything, a ride in the middle of the night, a home cooked meal, a friend, to call him. He says to tell my father there is someone looking out for his daughter, across the ocean.

He drives away. I realize that the sun is shining in Dublin, and I smile.