There are times in life when one is forced to confront their own naivety. Moments when, looking back, it’s humbling to imagine that you were ever once that clueless.
One such time was my freshman year at Notre Dame, when I proudly pulled out my “winter coat” as soon as the forecast dipped below 60 degrees. It was a thin, flimsy thing, the result of a shopping trip over the summer — back when the reality of an Indiana winter was still a figment of my imagination. Coming from Southern California, I figured I should buy some sort of coat to move to the Midwest.
On campus, I quickly learned that my “coat” in question was not, in fact, a proper winter coat (and that I was in for a long winter). My roommates, all being from the East Coast and amused by how painfully Californian the situation was, immediately sent me to the nearest Burlington Coat Factory to get a real jacket.
I learned my lesson, but continued to play into the West Coast stereotype that first winter. I insisted on wearing leggings under my jeans every day (my roommate never understood) or stuffing my boots with toe warmers for gameday (they never worked anyways). I realized that wanting to go to a school with “real seasons” had actual consequences — things reaching a height when I ordered a sun lamp off and almost blinded myself by staring at it too long. Long story short: I was excited to be home for the summer that first year.
I also would have been surprised to find out that I would study abroad in Ireland as a junior. I got better at managing the cold, but still maintained my obsession with summer and subsequent dismissal of winter as an enjoyable season all together. Even before leaving, I nervously laughed at the jokes people made about Dublin’s dreary weather, wondering if I would ever see the sun or just have eternally rain-drenched hair the whole semester.
It’s been much more manageable than I thought now that I’m here. But I’ve also realized that maybe … I’ve been the problem this whole time?
Ireland is a proud country. Our professor described the island as a pimple: small, but mighty, and always stubbornly in your face. The people of Ireland are boisterously proud of their heritage, rich culture, music and dance, sports and rugged countryside. They’re not afraid to tell you what’s on their mind, not afraid to ask Americans their thoughts on Trump and definitely not afraid of a little rain.
The weather is just another badge they wear with pride — a national obsession, you could say. Talking about the weather is the most common way people here start a conversation. We recently had a storm that made international news, and it continues to get brought up in conversation nearly three weeks later.
You have to give credit to a place that so readily embraces the best and (arguably) worst parts of their country. Instead of fighting tooth-and-nail against it, the people of Ireland accept the winter season, shifting their lives and habits to meet Mother Nature’s demands.
One of the ways they do this is by following the natural tempo of the rest of the hibernating world. In the West, where it’s mainly countryside without urban infrastructure, Irish people take the winter months as time to hunker down. It’s common to take on a household project or work on personal wellness goals while there’s more time to be had indoors.
Yet, though they slow down in the winter, Irish people certainly don’t isolate themselves. Ways of gathering, often around a beverage, are built into their daily routine. The nation practically runs on tea — university clubs will meet for tea in the morning, giving everyone something warm to hold as they talk and walk to class. My Irish language class takes "tea breaks” for everyone to reenergize over a mug of Barry’s. Tea is described as “good for the soul” during damp times.
If the nation relies on tea to fuel its daily activities, beer fuels its nightlife. Pubs themselves, the center of Irish social life, were originally designed as a place of gathering for people during the dark winter evenings. I can promise that there’s nothing more inviting than the glow of O'Donoghue’s at night, a cozy table and easy conversation over a pint just behind the door. Even better, no one will bat an eye at you wearing normal clothes to the pub. In fact, wearing a sweater or your work clothes is expected. A crazy concept in 40 degree weather, right?
The Irish orient themselves around winter, taking care of themselves, gathering socially often and actually dressing for the weather — but you don’t have to live in Ireland to appreciate the winter season.
Use this unique time to quiet the mind and enjoy the moments of life we often miss. You can watch the snowflakes fall through the window, finally light that candle you got as a gift two years ago or spend the afternoon reading in bed. Although I still wear my California badge with pride, I was wrong to completely dismiss winter. It’s not just a hurdle to jump over in pursuit of summer. It’s a time to slow down and be intentional about being with others, wherever you are.
Maybe I’m just an annoying study abroad student talking, or maybe it’s Irish stubbornness, but don’t cancel your plans with friends. Buy some hand lotion. Make a hearty meal and wear layers. If it’s going to be winter anyways, I’d rather choose to enjoy it. I hope you do too.
Allison Elshoff is a junior studying Business Analytics with minors in the Hesburgh Program of Public Service and Impact Consulting. Originally from Valencia, California and currently living in Badin Hall, you can find her unsubscribing from email lists or hammocking by the lakes. You can contact Allison at aelshoff@nd.edu.
