Connor James

“I figured if I ran away to Ireland on a working holiday visa for a year I’d buy myself time to come up with an answer.”

Ilove the term American-Irish, I’ve used that to describe myself a few times before.

I too am from Philly(ish). I’m actually from Malvern, out in the suburbs. I have vague Irish ancestry from mid-1800s, but I never claim to be Irish (something many of my friends here find funny and refreshing). My family has actually been in South East PA since the 1680s. They were Quakers that came over with good 'ol Willy Penn.

In 2015 I graduated college with no clear direction for my life. So I figured if I ran away to Ireland on a working holiday visa for a year I’d buy myself time to come up with an answer. I lived at home and saved up for a year.

About a month before I went to Ireland I went to a Little Green Cars gig at Union Transfer. I noticed some people with Irish accents and a tricolor flag at the front. I bumped into them after the show and one of the girls asked me for a lighter. She told me her name was Orla. I told them all I was moving to Ireland in a month. They didn’t fully believe me, looking back on it, but they asked me where and I told them I was thinking about Dublin but I wasn’t so sure yet.

In unison they all went “Fuck Dublin!” And told me to go to Galway because that’s were they went to school. They were over at Drexel for a study abroad semester. They then hopped in their Uber, never to be seen again but at least I had finally decided where I was going to live.

So in late May 2016 I boarded a plane to Dublin, spent a couple nights there adjusting to the jet lag and then took a train to Galway where I had an Airbnb for three nights, zero friends or contacts, and no plan of what I would do.

Fast forward three months: I had a job in a cafe and made a handful of friends. I actually went to a music festival in Bristol, England with some of them and got talking to a friend of a friend named Conor. I told him that same story and he said, “I think I know them.”

And I told him “No, there is no way you know them. Philly is a really big place.” And he was like, “They’re film students you say? Orla, Hazel, Ross, Martina…” Rattling their names off.

“Oh wow,” I said. “Yeah that’s them actually!”

He told me that he was friends with them, and that he was having a party the following weekend and some of them might be there.

So the next weekend we were back in Galway and his house and one of the girls was able to make it to the party. It was Orla, the girl who asked me for a lighter in Philly. She arrived and everyone was like “This lad says he knows you!” She looked at me funny, and I said “We’ve met before. Little Green Cars. Philadelphia.”

“Oh shit, yeah! You guys were really good!” She thought I was in the band. Everyone had a bit of a laugh and she looked annoyed. “No, I’m that American guy that was talking to you guys after the show!”

“Ooohhh, you’re that guy! We didn’t think you were seriously going to move here!” We had a good chat for the rest of the evening. I saw her a few more times after that, and several months later we met again in a bar. She was recently single, and we hit it off and started dating.

On new year’s Eve of 2016/2017 I told her I loved her and she said she loved me too. Which was absolutely absurd because we only knew each other really for a little over a month. It was frightening being in love with someone from another country, knowing my time in Ireland had a limit. We tried not to think about it, but at the end of June 2017 I had to move home. We said we’d figure out a way to make it work.

My uncle was getting married in September of 2017 so she made plans to come visit me and meet my family. We researched every possible visa option for her to move to the States. We considered moving to Canada together if we had to, but that was just as complicated.

But then a week before she was due to fly over, we were on the phone and I said “Here’s a crazy idea, maybe when you’re over in America we can get married?”

There was silence and my heart sank. Then she said “Sorry the call dropped. What were you saying?”

“I uh, uh…will you marry me?”

Of course she said yes, so when she was over visiting we eloped. My brother and his girlfriend (now “It helped that I came here alone. I didn’t have a fellow American to cling on to, so I just sort of dove straight into to the Irish ways of doing things.” wife) were our only witnesses. Afterwards, we were both anxious to tell our families about it, but when we finally did they were all very supportive and happy for us. The original intention was for her to move to the U.S. I came over to Ireland that Christmas to spend time with my new in-laws. At the start of 2018 I rang USCIS to see how long it would take to complete her visa, and was shocked to learn it would probably be another year. We couldn’t deal with being apart any longer, so I changed my plans, quit my job and moved back to Ireland in spring of 2018. Now we’re living in her home town in Westmeath and we have our first real home together and very little desire to move to America. Maybe eventually, but not anytime soon. I’m very comfortable in Ireland at this point. Whenever I visit home I strangely have a sense of culture shock in my own country. You suddenly notice so many odd Americanisms that you never picked up on before. I’ve only been living in Ireland for a total of about three years, but Id say I’m very well assimilated. I love tea, I love a full Irish, I watch Father Ted and understand why it’s funny. I know the craic. It helped that I came here alone. I didn’t have a fellow American to cling on to, so I just sort of dove straight into to the Irish ways of doing things. My first summer here I had a housemate that was on the Dole, so he and I hung out every day and I made him teach me Irish slang and Irish cultural references. He gave me a great head start on becoming more Irish. Ifeel like my sense of humor fits Irish humor very well, and I enjoy how things are more laid-back and 25

My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America. My last night in America.

not everyone is so damn serious about everything. Which is very much the cast back in the states.

Irish people are often confused about where I’m from when they meet me. I do tend to talk with an Irish inflection without realizing it. Unless I’m talking to another American and then my accent sort of naturally code-switches.

It feels jarring at time, and my family and friends love to make fun of me for saying “bins” and “giving out” and “you know yourself.” Especially living in Mullingar where I’m one of three Americans in the town. I’m sure you catch yourself doing it as well.

I think living in America there’s so much pressure to make something of yourself, and prove yourself to others. In Ireland I don’t really feel that same pressure. Everything just a bit slower and smaller over here. And I love it.

Galway was great for awhile, but I’m actually really happy to be living in the Midlands now. It’s so untouched by tourism, and feels quintessentially Irish to me.

It is funny how confused people are that an American would move to Ireland. I was talking to a Polish security guard about it and he just couldn’t wrap his head around it. He said “an American who wants an Irish passport? Now I’ve heard absolutely everything!”

I do think about that fact that as an American expat, my reason for emigrating is different from most around the world. We haven’t had to move for economic reasons. We have the luxury of leaving our home in search of ourselves more so than money. And I’m not saying that all Americans in Ireland are wealthy (I’m certainly not, and I have such sympathy for any Americans paying Dublin rent), but we do have a sort of global privilege by way of our passport. American-Irish, and American expats in general are a unique breed.