Being A Jerk

The homeless and the gypsies were an ever-present part of daily life in Paris and in most of the rest of Europe. During past trips, I gave a significant amount of money to those. After all, these are people in need, and isn't it Biblical to give to these?

But I found that this wasn't always necessarily the case. I've worked with homeless ministries in Dallas and Los Angeles, and have discovered that most major cities, along with a great many smaller ones, have programs designed to solve the problem of homelessness. These are organized so as to promote more healthy living, with an ending goal of actually getting people off the streets to live productive lives.

My first night in Dublin, I was waiting for my bus at the station. I would be headed to Dundalk that night to stay with a host family. A homeless man came up to me asking for money. I gave him something in the realm of two pounds, about $4. Rather than stop there, he pressed me for more money. I told him that it was all I had to spare, that I really wasn't being wise by sparing that much. He continued to make casual conversation, then pressed for money again, emphasizing that he didn't have a place to sleep that night, but could afford one with ten pounds. I was impressed by this and asked where this was, because I would gladly sleep in a place for such a price. He skirted this and pressed me for money again. I very firmly told him this time that I had already given him all I would, and that he was being rude. As the time for my bus ride drew closer, I asked this same homeless man if he could help me figure out where my bus would be, and he wouldn't even speak to me once he realized that I wasn't giving him any more money.

In Paris, gypsies would walk up to you, asking you if you spoke English. Your initial reaction is to be excited that someone with an un-American accent is speaking to you. Culture! But no, the reason they are speaking with you is because they want to rob you or get something from you somehow. Very rarely do people in Paris approach you out of sheer kindness. You learn to avoid even making eye contact, putting on a serious face and waving them away when they try to speak to you. You don't even give them the time of day because that's the only way to keep them from targeting you.

I learned from this experience that sometimes you really sometimes just plain have to be a jerk to these seemingly less fortunate. You are nothing but a dollar sign to them and when you don't have the dollar signs to spare, when you are most likely hungrier than they currently are, you have to be a jerk. They aren't privileged enough to have your attention.

Going Hungry

For the first month of my trip, which took place primarily in the UK (after that mission trip to Belarus), I felt quite poor. I had lots of money put away, sure, but I had to last three months. Three months makes the list of times that aren't short. My budget was in the range of $250 per week. The unfortunate thing was, I was kinda already blowing that budget with transportation costs, since I could not yet use my 2-month Eurail pass. So I lived on 10 pounds (or euros, depending on where I was) per day. This was for everything. Food, lodging, drinks, whatever. I stayed with an Irish family in Dundalk, stayed at my university's manor  house in Belfast, CouchSurfed in Glasgow and Edinburgh, and stayed with friends in London. 10 moneys is not enough to live on, not if you're buying drinks. I learned to eat anything people would give me. Fortunately, CouchSurfing and staying at peoples' apartments often involves the sharing of dinner, and sometimes of other meals. It became a rule for me that if anyone offers you anything, you accept it. Drink that tea. They put a bunch of veggies on your plate that you don't normally eat? Beggars cannot be choosers. I learned to eat anything and everything, because more calories means more calories to burn, and when you're being thrifty and walking rather than taking public transportation, you need more calories. I would often go into grocery stores during the day and just browse food only to see the prices and decide to leave because I couldn't afford it. I became VERY hungry. Hungry enough to appreciate a lot more. No more picky eating. It wasn't allowed during this time.

Reflecting On 3 Months of Backpacking Through Europe (Part 1 of however many parts)

I went on this trip for a specific reason. I went to Uganda two years ago with a similarly specific reason in mind. That trip was to find out why I wanted to be a doctor.

In the case of backpacking through Europe for three months, my reason for going was to become a better person and a better Christian, to better myself as a whole. I viewed it as a sort of sabbatical. When I look at it critically, that sounds overly flattering or idealistic, but that really is the way I saw it. Sort of like the first of the newer Batman movies, when he goes off and plays peasant for awhile to get out of that rich kid skin. While I've never considered myself to be a rich kid, particularly not one to compare with Bruce Wayne, I knew that I was born into an upper middle class family (which has since dipped into the lower middle classes, I think), and have never really wanted for much of anything.

The mission was an overall success. I was forced to rely on the kindness of others, to go hungry, to go without sleep, to explain my life and Christian worldview to those who I only really initially related to in the realms of travel and drinking. I traveled with siblings, parents, friends, strangers, alone, with people I couldn't understand at all, and with people I understood on a fundamental level. It was so much and, as I told my grandma upon my return, it was not a vacation. Vacations are for those who have time, money, and people to enjoy them with.

God became my only consistent friend, the only reason I felt I could have confidence in my travels, the reason I didn't have to fear being robbed or hurt or tricked. I was careful, but it is my belief that in a confrontation, a man with something to lose is greatly disadvantaged against a man who has not. I entrusted God with my computer, with my GoPro camera, with my belongings, with my friendship, with my lack thereof, and with my belief that my travels would do something for/to me. I was forced to be more of a missionary than I had ever been in the past, explaining how I could possibly believe in something so ridiculous as the redeeming power of the death and resurrection of Christ. Over pints of Guinness, over vegetarian meals, over pitchers of apple wine, over glass after glass of cheap white wine, I spelled out topics ranging from my beliefs regarding science and the creation of the world to why bad things happen to why I'm waiting for marriage to have sex. I often realized that my dismissal of complex theological topics in the past could prove hazardous when I was asked complex theological questions. But then I just thought that if I was being honest, I've never been truly content with the answers I've heard regarding why God lets bad things happen and topics like that. I just began to consider those in the same light as I consider those questions of science that I can't find good answers for. You can't know or do everything, and really, our hands should be full with what we already do know. There's a whole New Testament that's filled with letters from apostles who are basically just trying to explain what salvation really means for us. Four gospels and then loads of epistles just telling us what the deal was with all that. So I like to think that I take the smarter, simpler route, just trying to grasp what exactly this salvation means for me, rather than grapple with what reasons the ultimate God and creator of the universe has for letting me have a life of struggle rather than a life of ease. Though to be fair, the epistles address that pretty well too. All this, of course, is difficult to convey over a few hours of drinking as your attention span becomes more and more boozed up.

June 8

I'm on my flight back to the States. Customs was as easy as "How long were you here for?" "Three months." "Nice." I debated on whether to exchange my remaining €100 bank notes for US dollars, but then instead gave in and used it to buy duty-free whiskey. Tax on liquor is high both in Ireland and the States, and I made the decision with this knowledge in mind. I have my phone in my pocket, ready to turn on (assuming it retains battery life after three months).

I noted yesterday how when I get home, I will not be bothering with reading travel blogs so much. At the midpoint in my trip, I missed home dearly, but realized that if I went home, I'd just be dreaming of travel. Not so anymore. I think I'll be quite happy with where I am for the time being, especially since I'll be headed to the Caribbean at the end of the summer anyway. There's nothing like leaving your home, country, friends, and family to make you appreciate every one of them. 

June 7

What a beautiful time I’ve been having. My last day in Belfast, as I waited for my train to Dublin, it finally began raining the sweet sweet Irish rain. I went to my favorite spot in Belfast, inside the Starbucks on Victoria Square to people watch. Ah, so good.

The night of my birthday (June 5), I met up with Jamie and Phillip and sang karaoke for the last time I will ever do such a thing in Europe for a long while. ’Twas a beautiful thing. They all had far more to drink than I did, which was also kinda the usual. It takes too much for me to feel anything, so I see it as a losing battle for the most part.

Yesterday, I took the train ride (all free and hardly checked using the Eurail pass) to Carickfergus Castle. It was pleasant to see the last castle I’d see for a few years. Then I came back to my hostel to find that two other friends, Steve and Greg, were free to meet up, so we went to a pub near the city hall and we talked mostly of my travels, but also of their future ones coming up, since the study abroad trip was only a third of the way through, and Greg would be traveling briefly afterwards.

I was going to go out to a pub after they left (curfew was 11 PM for them), but I really couldn’t bring myself to do anything beyond drink cider while huddled away in my room. Fortunately, some drunk men from Manchester (who informed me that though they were "d***heads”, they were also engineers with families in England) came in and talked away for awhile. One of them called his wife and passed the phone to me, and I couldn’t stop laughing, incredulous at it. He kept insisting that he wasn’t very drunk and wanted me to verify this to his wife. So funny.

Today in Dublin, I bought a new wardrobe for med school (thanks Penney’s) and searched for some Kilkenny Irish cream ale, which is hard to find in Ireland. This is funny ‘cause it was easy to find, and on tap, in Paris and elsewhere. It’s also difficult to find in the States, which was one reason to be particularly interested in it. Alas, I couldn’t find it, but I did get another pint glass and a memory or two. I leave for the States in about six hours (12 hours till the flight, but I wanna play it safe). I plan to get Jameson and perhaps other duty-free liquor in the airport, which is another reason to get there early.

June 5 #birthday

I flew into Cork on Sunday night, slept in a lil’ the next day, then went to see Blarney Castle (where I kissed the Blarney stone and became eloquent). I met New Yorkers while doing that, which is nice. Then I went to the Jameson Distillery, where I learned the value of triple-distillation. It really is pretty much what we did in our lab a lot at JBU, minus the liquor. That night, I made friends with a German guy who was doing an internship in Galway.

The next day, I ventured on to Galway where I received a personalized tour from the German guy. We went to the cheapest pub where pints were 2.50 euros, and also stole some Guinness pint glasses after downing them.

The following day, we went on a tour to the cliffs of Moher, and holy mother of, it was among the greatest sights I’ve ever experienced. You can tell why superstition thrives in that area of the world, with the power of the wind and the sea so incredibly apparent. As our tour guide told us, this was as far west as we could go without running into America, so we were facing the winds of the Atlantic head-on. Weather was subject to constant change. It was cold and raining, with me wearing everything I owned, then it changed to bright and sunny, where I felt comfortable in just one layer. The cliffs themselves were simply immense. It was like the Grand Canyon in that you had a hard time fathoming the greatness of it. Certainly a fantastic present for my birthday eve. An hour after we returned from that tour, I took a train to Dublin. I had a birthday pint at midnight in the Temple Bar area, which, by the way, sucks if you aren’t in a group. They sang happy birthday to someone else at the stroke of midnight, so I finished my pint and stole the glass, then went to bed.

Today is my birthday. I am officially 24 and I dislike the idea of being in my #midtwenties, but I suppose that if anything aged or matured me properly, this trip likely did. I’m nearing the end now and am just thankful to have the privilege of staying in Belfast for two nights, so no worries about checking out tomorrow. I’m going to be able to meet with some good friends today and perhaps I’ll also meet a few natives as well. The world remains my oyster.

June 1st

The last few weeks flew by. No longer did I have to worry about where I was going to sleep or running out of money. It was a pleasant journey, the only real conflict coming from the usual sibling trouble.

We enjoyed Cologne, Germany, even though it wasn't all that pretty or exciting (aside from the beer garden and karaoke). Then we went to Reims in the Champagne region of France (but not before "sleeping" at the train station in Luxembourg on the way) and enjoyed a winery tour with a tasting at the end. It's cray-cray how much skill goes into making Champagne. From there, we ventured with an overnight train to Avignon, which was like a dream come true, especially after my past visits to the Vatican. It was there that we met up with my mom and her fiancé, who were taking a fancy river cruise through France. We had dinner with the big wigs there and I told the tale of our sleeping on the streets just a few days earlier. We took a very nice overnight train from there to Frankfurt. We enjoyed frankfurters and apple wine and it was a pleasant day. 

Then my sister left and the friendly American girls who had showed up the day before also checked out. So I slept in and fought the feeling of loneliness that tends to latch onto you when you're the only one you know in a given country or area. But then the American girls came returned just as I was about to explore the city. They had their dates confused and would instead be staying as long as I was. So we ventured into town and tried apple wine, accidentally ordered a liter or two more than we meant to, and then again drank that night. We were joined by two Brits and a Chinese guy as well, and it was generally a good time, besides the headache from day drinking. I outsmarted Ryanair just as I outsmart all airlines, by putting an enormous amount of weight into my "personal item" (messenger bag) and making my travel backpack light and compressible. Then after I make it past the checkin, I just put stuff back in the big backpack. Easy peezy. And, of course, the Swiss Army knife always makes it through, but some conditioner in a container larger than 100 ml doesn't. Oh, and one important thing to note. Though I was staying in Frankfurt, the budget airlines airport "Frankfurt Hahn" is a 2-hour bus ride away from the main Frankfurt train station. And that bus costs €14.

So I flew from Frankfurt Hahn to London Stansted, and found my hostel quite late. Since I couldn't pick up wifi in the bunkroom, I was forced to get a decent night's rest. Then I awoke to one of the greatest sounds. A horde of Irishmen slowly waking up after a night of drinking as the Irish do. They were very friendly of course, but then I was due to venture into London proper. The weather was the best I'd seen thus far on the trip, so my selfies were spot-on (I assume). I also bought a few souvenirs, but with another Ryanair flight, I knew I couldn't do much. They didn't even check the weight of my bags this time, just made me throw away my toothpaste and mouthwash. Fortunately, they were nearing their ends. 

And now I approach the real vacation portion of my trip: my tour of Ireland and the ability to acquire souvenirs. I'm currently on the flight to Cork and look forward to seeing the "real" Ireland.