Roughly 20 seconds after meeting any Irish citizen, I can almost predict the inevitable, dreaded words: “Excuse me, love, but what do you think about the American election?”

Here in the land of Guinness and rugby matches, I have been spared the onslaught of obnoxious political advertisements, but have been subjected to an equivalent number of curious questions from the international arena.

“Who did ye vote for in the caucus?” they begin. Although I am an Iowan, I explain that unfortunately, I was abroad for the primary and unable to vote.

“Oh, so ye didn’t vote?” is the typical disgusted response.

“No,” I attempt to explain, “I couldn’t vote. You are not allowed to vote absentee for the caucus, just for the actual election.”

“Ye don’t care who is the future leader of your country?”

Sigh.

Being abroad, I spent my caucus evening out at the pubs and the following morning watching the results on RTE 1, one option out of my six channels.

The international portrayal of Iowa was a source of amusement, shame and awe. As the camera panned across an icy field, banjos and harmonicas became our soundtrack. A man with a 10-gallon hat and a barbell mustache served as the spokesman, touting Iowa as America’s heartland and an excellent place to start the primaries.

Iowa television networks surely would agree with our mustachioed mascot, given the revenue of record-high numbers of advertisements, running 44,600 times by caucus night, according to The New York Times. The number of times Iowans viewed these advertisements without pressing “mute” or changing channels, however, is yet to be quantified by statisticians.

Whether or not we pay attention, however, our nation is now approaching the crossroads of the election of a new American president. The world is watching closely – if I had a Euro for every Irish political question, I wouldn’t have to live off of pasta and oatmeal.

Although the Irish students are often more knowledgeable about individual American candidates than my fellow commercial-viewing ISU students, Ireland provides its own political bias.

“How can the American public not love Hillary? She’s grand,” asked my Irish friend Kiera over a dinner of meat and potatoes.

Due to former President Bill Clinton’s work on the Northern Ireland peace process, this sentiment is fairly common. Thus, Hillary moves in my mind from her position as a fraternity punch line to current Irish favorite for future president.

The questions do not stop at individual candidacy.

“Who do the students support, like? The political system provides for some brilliant debates, I’m sure. I hear you all don’t vote, why is that?”

Honestly, why do America’s young people often have low voter turnout? Being in this demographic, we have ample access to information and voting centers right on campus. Furthermore, with presidential candidates frequently visiting, we have an opportunity to see and meet nearly every individual candidate for ourselves.

With Super Tuesday approaching and presidential hopefuls speaking every day, however, I’m still certain many individuals have waited more vigilantly for the outcome of Heath Ledger’s autopsy than for any political primary. Are we just lazy, or is there a more specific cause of this political apathy?

Perhaps, all of the polite, “politically correct” lessons have watered down this generation’s political fervor. Ironically, such conversation often renders the subjects of war, politics and religion taboo, especially when spoken with passion and opinion. For fear of judgment or an offensive demeanor, the most important national issues are often swept under the table of pop culture and social formality.

Admittedly, even in Ireland I try to avoid discussing American politics, preferring a lighter conversation over dessert and wine. I am discovering, however, that even a delicious dark chocolate torte cannot prevent the pervading questions about the upcoming election. Although I initially feared controversy and questioning, I now know strong opinions and honest convictions garner more respect than could any “politically correct” rubbish.

– Julie Young is a senior in psychology from Indianola. She is studying in Cork, Ireland, for the semester.