Jane Fadely.
By V. J. Fadely
I found myself counting things.
Not just the days before I departed Ireland, but other things, too.
There were more coffee filters left in the package than I’d be able to use in the remaining six days.
I had eight Barry’s Gold Blend tea bags. The rest had all been packed for shipping to the USA.
Eight was plenty for my afternoon cup, with a few extras in case needed for drop-in visitors.
I put a new roll of toilet paper onto the spindle and noted there was one left in the package.
I calculated that would cover me, no pun intended, for the remaining days.
This, then, is what the mind does – my mind, anyway – when it doesn’t want to think about the important stuff, like the details of packing and shipping and what I’m doing with my life after I leave Ireland; when I can’t allow myself to become overwhelmed with thoughts of leaving.
Count coffee filters and tea bags instead.
It was much easier and much less stressful.
All that other stuff would keep, maybe even go away if I just ignored it.
I spent two years and nine months living happily in the Southwest of Ireland, in Kenmare, an idyllic little town on the Ring of Kerry.
My days were filled with walking, chatting with friends and neighbors, puttering around in my back garden and writing about Ireland.
I listened to Irish traditional music in the pubs, occasionally travelled around the country and enjoyed watching – and of course, talking about – the ever changing weather.
I’m an American, but I felt so Irish. Ireland became my home.
Ireland’s immigration policy was once vague for retired individuals. Even after extensive research, I couldn’t get clear-cut answers, but the general idea seemed to be if you could show you had the means to support yourself, you’d likely be accepted.
You had to request permission to be in the country each year, maintain private health insurance, and pay 300 euros annually.
Sounded simple enough.
I’d gathered data on living costs and prepared a budget and felt confident my Social Security retirement benefits would easily cover my expenses.
In September, 2013, after several trips to Ireland as a tourist, I sold nearly everything I owned including my car and my Southern California home and away I went to live in the land I loved, full of hope and dreams.
The clock doesn’t start ticking on the twelve month period until permission is granted, but I didn’t mind.
It just meant more time in Ireland.
After obtaining permission and living in Ireland for more than a year, I applied for a renewal.
I loved living there, no longer a tourist, but a full-fledged resident.
I finally received the long awaited small brown envelope with the black imprint of a harp in the upper left corner and excitedly opened it to read that I’d been granted another year.
But the last paragraph of the letter contained a caveat.
I wasn’t eligible to apply for any further renewals.
I was to leave Ireland when the additional year was up and provide evidence of my departure or face deportation and/or possibly being barred from re-entering the country in the future, even as a tourist.
The letter indicated a fear I might become a burden to the State because of my lack of wealth.
Wondering about immigration’s reasoning, I sent an inquiry.
Why was I not eligible for renewal when my situation was unchanged and I’d demonstrated for nearly two years that I could support myself?
Surely they’d see they made a mistake.
Some months later I received a response.
Seems things had become rather more cut-and-dried.
Ireland now wants retired non-EU citizens to have an annual income of €50,000 – more than most Irish citizens have – as well as available cash sufficient to purchase property in Ireland, a figure later specified as 150,000 euros.
My heart sank when I read this information.
I could not believe my time in Ireland was truly going to come to an end.
To my surprise – and elation – shortly before the date I’d been instructed to leave the country, I learned that the new rules were not intended to apply to individuals like me, folks who’d come to the country prior to the enactment of those rules.
So they had clearly made an error in my case!
When I pointed out this critical bit of information to immigration and reminded them I had a two year history demonstrating I could support myself, they addressed neither of those key points.
Instead, they stated they didn’t feel I was wealthy enough when they had granted permission the first time.
Yet they did – not once, but twice.
There was no response to additional efforts to get immigration to change their position, and eventually, my fight ended.
I had to accept I was not welcome and made plans to leave.
I am perplexed, as are most Irish citizens, why Ireland does not only want, but welcome with open arms, folks like me.
I’ve been a responsible, respectful citizen and a goodwill ambassador for Ireland, hosting visitors from America and other countries, writing blog posts about the glories of living and traveling in Ireland, answering numerous questions from folks wanting information about the country, and self-published a memoir about my time in Ireland.
I occupied a previously empty cottage.
I paid my way, and did so without any problem.
Heck, I even paid my water bill, something many Irish citizens do not do.
I calculate that since September 2013, I contributed roughly €47,000 euros to the Irish economy, money earned in the USA.
As a non-EU citizen I was prohibited from working or receiving social welfare benefits, so I cost Ireland neither money nor jobs.
I laughed – but it didn’t bring a smile to my face – when I read a recent news story about Ireland’s plea to allow Irish illegal immigrants to remain in the USA.
Wait – What?
They don’t want legal American immigrants in Ireland unless they’re rich, but they want the USA to accept and legitimize illegal Irish immigrants?
I don’t even know what to say about that.
Gradually, over that last year, my view of Ireland changed because of the nonsensical immigration policy and the way immigration treated me, without courtesy or kindness.
Those rose-colored glasses through which I once saw Ireland lost some of their tint.
I know it is the fault of the immigration bureaucracy and not the Irish people, but my feelings for the land I so loved will forever be bittersweet.
On the 25th of May, 2016, I left Ireland much like a lover leaves a failed relationship: with a very heavy heart.
Perhaps I – and the other non-wealthy, non-EU persons of independent means Ireland has, or wil,l reject – will be remembered and seen in a more positive light when it finally dawns on someone with the power to change the immigration laws that it is folks like us Ireland needs as immigrants, individuals who are cheerleaders for Ireland, who are contributing to the economy, and taking nothing.
The Land of 100,000 Welcomes could then truly live up to its name.
Jane Fadely is now back in California and planning a move to Oregon and a place that, as closely as possible, resembles Ireland.
