3 Years of Ireland
A story about: me, the pope and Ireland. Also: how I got married, where to travel to, #MondayMotivation and fooling companies with a bogus CV
The 25th day of August is a special one in Ireland. There’s this individual making his first appearance in the island, a Latin American who sometimes is accused of being a communist. People here call him Francis, although he’s known in his continent as Francisco, and as Jorge by those who met him before March 2013, when he became the Catholic pope.
But your man Jorge’s causing a lot of trouble, you know. Roads are being closed, there will be bus changes and both the Red and Green Luas lines will face interruptions. Not to mention that, because his firm has been under pressure for having hired some shady men and done some dubious businesses for hundreds of years, we’re going to see some protests.
In other words, not everybody is happy about Jorge’s coming. That’s why I feel somewhat awkward for uncannily sharing this date with him. Turns out that the Popepallooza’s opening day matches my third anniversary in Ireland.
If I ignore all the negativity surrounding Jorge’s firm and the fact that I’m not even one of its clients, it kind of feels like he’s coming here for a personal blessing. Think about it and you’ll see that we’re basically the same. Okay, no roads were closed upon my arrival, but I too am a Latin American not rarely labelled a communist and whose name is mispronounced by the locals.
I say it is a grace. Jorge will indeed be here to bless me and grant my family a profitable, happy life in Ireland. And boy, what a life it has been.
I’ll be honest with you, I wouldn’t know three years ago that I’d still be here three years later. At first, people used to ask me all the time when I would finally come back and I’d always say a variant of “soon”: in one year, in two years… now I just say “eventually”. They still ask me about it but not as often, life goes on so I guess everybody just got used to me not being around.
I left Sao Paulo when I was peaking. I had a decent and well-payed job, lived with my girlfriend in this nice, central apartment, and I’d even travel abroad from time to time. There was absolutely no reason for me to leave but at the same time, all of that meant I could make a choice: either I should start saving money for a comfortable future or turn my life around to find something new.
Suddenly those #MondayMotivation posts started making sense. We sold what we had (still miss you, books), packed, threw a farewell party and emigrated.
My first year in Ireland, or season 1, was focused on learning. The resume said “advanced” but I realised here that my English was terrible. And I wasn’t lying on my CV. You see, when you live in Brazil, “terrible” can legitimately mean “advanced” because nobody there really speaks English and therefore companies can’t judge your level — hell, they can’t assess their own level.
About eight months went by and I was ready to go back. But my girlfriend wasn’t happy, she still wanted some classes so we agreed on staying one more year. We had no money, though, and I couldn’t find a nice job here because I’m a writer and, as you may have noticed, I still have a thing or two to learn about this new language. She then ignored her broken English and got a job in her field — there are fewer barriers when your profession is to design things on a computer, and she’s truly awesome at designing stuff.
So the second season was focused on settling and exploring. We travelled to Sao Paulo for a few days and got married (a minor detail). From Dublin, we went to Zurich, Barcelona, Berlin. Our mums came over and helped us move to a bigger apartment, then we all visited Paris together — and that, my friend, was magic. Now-wife and I went twice to Portugal and once to Amsterdam. What a year.
When 2018 was approaching, I quit the job I’d had in Brazil for 5+ years. I kept it for so long because I was still weighing on our return, but by then I had no idea when I’d be living in my city again and decided to try something here. Thus began our most difficult season so far.
Alright, we had that amazing snow and later, a proper summer — I even swam in the Irish sea, who would’ve thought? That was great, but summer’s gone now, it’s getting rainy, the sunlight is lasting less and less each day and I’m wearing trousers at home.
We are now making considerably less money but living in a more expensive place. And because I’m not as ninja as my partner at finding jobs, I only managed to get an unpaid internship so far (which, apart from the money thing, has been quite exciting). So yeah, we’re slowly going broke… unless some miracle falls upon us.
See what I did there? Yes, this should be the part where I tie everything together. Your man Jorge comes back to the story and you go like “Wow, I’d forgotten the whole religious thing!”
Truth is, there will be no pope-closing, sorry if I mislead you.
I wanted to write about my three years in Ireland but the more I thought about it, the more I realised I don’t really have super interesting things to tell. Because I’ve been here for so long, I live a routine like everybody else. The alarm goes off at 6:30, I go to the gym, cycle to the train station, travel to my work’s town, work, get the train back, cycle back home.
To tell the raw and unglamorous version of my life abroad forces me to remember what settling means. I decided to stay and make a life in Dublin, not a permanent one because I’m still going back home “eventually”, but still, a life.
And yes, life means ups and downs, getting pumped about moving to a better place and getting sad about not finding a job. But to me, life mostly means flatness, stillness, calm. Life means having a routine. Some friends you know well, some acquaintances. It means nodding to your neighbours, chatting in the office’s kitchen.
See? After three years, I guess I’ve got a life in Ireland.
Hi there! I am Leonardo Pereira, a Brazilian storyteller located in Dublin. You can find me at pereiraleonardo.com
