May 14, 2013 by Syd
Living in Ireland has taught me many things I couldn’t face before but most of all, it taught me patience.
You know these little moments your german american heart is breaking little by little into pieces, your eyes get red and blood is pumping through your veins like a racecar? There are so many of them here, that once you started to accept it, you learn to do this Ohmmm thing others go to temples to for years.
Getting rubbishbins collected the former tenant left behind? Call Oxigen and right- be patient. Your garbage starts to talk to you before they come? Teach them how to get Zen and do the worm cough song with them:
Then there is the whole waiting on a bus thing. First of all? No busstopsigns. They do not exist. I swear buses appear from nowhere and stop in the middle of nowhere without any schedule at all. Thing is, if you are not irish you don’t have a clue when and where. All you can do is “Määäääääääääääh” – do it like sheep and not an Egyptian and stalk your neighbour’s way to the bus. Be sure, he won’t think about it, as he is already used to your constant ramblings about taxis being late, busstops, garbage collections, revenue opening hours and of course the Eircom. I heard mine actually mumbling “Germans…..” behind his fence. Yeah the fence my vicious crazy dog leaned against and had to be rebuilt. Well he ohmmmmmmed while building a new one and NEVER once lost his temper. Okay his wife is scared of dogs and stayed inside for the time the fence was down.
Eircom is like German Telecom or AT&T. Whenever you think now everything is settled well….it isn’t. Eircom technicians only work when you work, they’ll make sure they do not meet you in person. They leave nice little letters and RUN!!!!Same as German telecom people.
If you finally managed to sweettalk them by screaming: “I’ll get another provider and be sure I will mention your name” in your worst possible accent. they are actually able to come AFTER you finished work. HEY. Well, that does not mean anything. Well it could be the socket, or the cable or ermmmm the splinter. And one by one you have to make sure being repaired by blocking the doorway with your two dogs that they do not follow their plan “I could come back tomorrow….at 9 when somebody else is home”. Believe me you do not want to be faced with a very angry welsh guy on a jetlag and two hungry dogs.
But after all the ranting and fighting for all these things you finally notice one day: You don’t give a shit anymore. And it feels great. Yeah, okay the eircom will drive you crazy but hey the lady at Customer Service of Oxigen is nice to talk to and knows your name. Waiting at one cashier at Dunnes Store on a Thursday evening when everybody is shopping while all employees go on break in the meantime? Time to get to know people. Breathe, ohmmmmm.
Little by little you learn to love it. Really love it. The slowdown, the rest and the peace and you find out that your overorganised, overneat homecountries are more tidy, faster, quicker and richer, but hell they sure need to pay a lot of cash for Relaxing courses, Burnoutcenters and so on and hey they have to do years and years of sitting in a buddhist center in Bad-Oer-Erkenschwick to learn how to breathe and OHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM…Come to Ireland, it’s greener and the beer is greater and the songs are nicer and you get a full on course in how to take all these little crazy things not serious anymore.