Why I Stayed : Beginning To Love Cork
Writes Claire Watson
In the world of tarot cards, the Sun represents all things joyous. It’s pastries and iced coffees in the early morning, a picnic at noon under magnolia trees, red wine on the Leeside. Like the sun warming the Earth, nourishing crops and tanning skin, this card signifies fulfillment. The sun is compassionate, representing the unbridled laughter of friends chuckling at a joke that was told hours before. All things pure and beautiful flourish under the sun’s love. To me, Cork is this sun.
Had things gone to plan, I would be in Norway right now. Getting lost in the halls of Agder University, taking a stroll along the sea, or stuck on my phone texting friends back home. The Erasmus program was one of my main reasons to go to college. It was an excuse to leave. Before picking a course to study, I had picked a year abroad. I had filled out the forums, gotten a place, and was working hard to afford a new life overseas. Adventure was waiting, and I was genuinely excited!
To make the most of my time here in Cork, I began exploring the city. I found cafés, bars and restaurants I had never even heard of before. I discovered secret spots of beauty, where the city looked like a kingdom whether basking in the sun or soaking up the rain. Most of all, I met people that were turning my exciting departure into a bittersweet goodbye.
I lay awake at night, thinking of all these adventures I had in my hometown. In the morning I’d be sending off my application to Agder. My head was a mess, I could hardly think one coherent thought without getting drowned out by all the ‘what if?’s. I’m not a particularly spiritual person, but that night I reached into my bedside locker and pulled out my deck of tarot cards.
I shuffled, and dealt, each time a different question. ‘Should I stay in Ireland?’ ‘Should I go to Norway?’ ‘What’s here for me in Ireland?’ ‘What’s there for me in Norway?’ ‘Will I be lonely?’ ‘Will I regret it?’ ‘What should I do?’
Tarot can’t be used for direct yes or no questions. I like to use it to help me look at things from different perspectives. No matter how many times I shuffled, one card kept popping up. The Sun never answered the questions I was asking. Instead it asked the question I never thought to, and when I emailed my Erasmus Coordinator to drop out of the program, I answered the Sun - ‘yes.’
I spent New Year’s Eve, like most Corkonians, on top of Patrick’s Hill. Let me tell you this, the Southside has nothing on the Northside’s views. From here you can see the roads of Cork city unravel around Shandon Tower. The city becomes a mottled blur, with specks of gold illuminating the city in a dazzling scene which is not so different from Van Gogh’s Starry Night. We didn’t care that our clothes were getting muddy, as we sprawled out on the lush grass, wet from the rain. I was surrounded by friends, friends of friends, and strangers I’d never see again, all counting in the new year. At this time, I was happy to leave, but grateful for my time here. I made a pact with myself to make the most of Cork.
See, I shot myself in the foot. I began seeking out the city’s gems and, once I caught a glimpse, I didn’t want to stop looking.
The sounds of ambient jazz soften the fizzing of an uncooperative microphone, as students scribble their team names onto paper. Glasses clink off other glasses, as their contents are swished around aimlessly, their holders wait for the pub quiz to commence. Replace the music, and this could be any bar across the city, hosted by any club or society, attended by any students. Maybe you’re sinking yourself into some tattered velvet seats or you’re sliding off a wooden bench. Despite what’s in your glass, who you’re with, or what you’re wearing, there’s something that unifies this sea of eager quiz goers.
An electric guitar twangs in the afternoon, just on the banks of the river Lee. A punk rocker’s voice takes the crowd away from their foamy cappuccinos and creamy mochas. I could be anyone watching any musician at any café, but I don’t think I’d get this kind of experience anywhere but Cork.
If it wasn’t for Cork, I wouldn’t be piling onto the train with my friends, decked out in perfect emo fashion, ready to attend the concert of a lifetime. It doesn’t matter that we land in Dublin, and make our way to Kilmainham Gaol. As we walk through the capital’s streets, with a parade of similarly dressed emos, I think of standing in my friend’s apartment at Castlewhite: the limestone walls and linoleum floor, and the bizarre decor are all that matter. I think of how this place doesn’t exist anywhere else, and maybe without it, we wouldn't have built the bond we did in order to go on adventures like we do.
I attend a book launch on my own, still getting used to the idea of doing things purely because I want to. I’m out for drinks with a table of editors and photographers. I attend an open mic, and I get to dip my toes into this bit of culture that I always craved, but until now never knew existed within this city.
The water is always cold when you first dive in. No matter how stuffy the Mardyke is, it always comes as a bit of a shock. It took a year of convincing myself, but I’m finally reaping some benefits of those fees. I do wonder, as I sit in the delightful warmth of the sauna, chatting with a classmate who’ll later become a close friend, if the universities abroad have facilities like this, and if I would ever muster up the courage to use them.
So I make some more pacts; to say yes to adventures, to delve deeper into this culture and to experience all these gems.
As with most living things, we are drawn to the sun. This card can also represent a positive energy that magnetises others and draws them in. I sat on my bedroom floor, staring at the cards before me, and began viewing Cork and UCC as a well of untapped potential for new experiences and relationships.
I’m on College Road, sharing ramen and cinnamon buns with friends. I’m on Connaught Avenue rolling dice to my heart's content. I’m on North Main Street playing Animal Crossing for hours on end. I’m in Brookefield accomodation, watching all of Angels in America in one sitting. I’m swimming at Church Bay, Fountainstown, Myrtleville. I’m going for walks down the old road behind my house,which descends into a trove of wildflowers. What was alien has become familiar, and what was lost is reunited.
If I can give any student one piece of advice, it is this: to speak up. That person with cool hair in your lectures? Tell them you like it. Invite your coworker for a coffee, if even just to walk to the Bewley’s machine together. Follow them on whatever social media you both use, and interact with them. Invite them to an event. Go to a protest or a gathering, chat to the person next to you. Who knows what friendships will come of it?
Perhaps, they’re searching for a friend just like you. Maybe you’ll have one pleasant conversation and that’s it, but you’ll always share a smile when you run into each other on campus. Maybe you’ll stay as strangers to one another, but at least you tried. College is what you make of it, as cliché as it sounds. You can’t live your days waiting for experiences to come to you. I wouldn’t have had the amazing adventures that convinced me to give this country another go if it weren’t for people coming up to me, and striking that first conversation. I can’t thank my friends enough for giving me that chance.
For the longest time I felt lost in this tiny city. Now, I finally feel at home in the warm, loving community that is Cork.