Bruxelles.. Tu me manques!

Being a peer adviser for the Office of International Programs has enabled me to share my life-changing study abroad experience with other Penn-Staters. Sometimes, when I’m talking with another student, I get nostalgic for Brussels… I wish I could snap my fingers and be back in my apartment on Rue Veydt! I wish I could walk around the corner and browse for breakfast at Delhaize (our neighborhood grocery store), shop on the trendy Avenue Louise, have a beer at Café Belga… I could go on and on.

Even though my study abroad experience in Brussels ended in May of 2007, a part of my heart will always be there. Every time I look at pictures of the magnificent Grand Place (arguably the most beautiful square in Europe), the Manneken Pis, or the Atomium (Brussels’ version of the Eiffel Tower), I think of all the great memories I have and I feel like I’m there again.

Studying abroad is an experience that you will always carry with you... as cliché as it sounds. Never in my life would I have expected to fall in love with a city like I did with Bruxelles.

Posted by: Jen, Brussels , Spring 2007

colectivos

Buses are the most popular way to get around Buenos Aires. You can get virtually anywhere in the entire city for around 25 cents. The bus drivers are mad men-they zip and speed along in these huge buses, halting to a stop whenever they see someone waiting at one of the bus stops along the route.

Finding these stops can sometimes be a hassle. Some stops have well marked poles that clearly list what buses come to that spot, others have random stickers that can be tacked onto a pole or somewhere on the outside of the building where the bus stops, and then there are others that you somehow have to just intuitively know stop in that place.

Riding the buses in Argentina was a lot different than riding the buses here. People are not afraid to cram onto the bus in order to make room for as many other passengers as possible. It's kind of like a no man left behind mentality-during rush hour, you can bet that you'll be getting to know the people around you quite intimately. Whereas here, sometimes I think people want to maintain there own personal bubble at the expense of a few other students that in my mind, would be able to fit on the bus if everyone would just occupy the little nooks and crannies. Some days, I just want to show the other people on the white loop where they should stand for optimal occupancy.

The best way to look like a native porteño is to break out your Guía-T, the bus bible that breaks the entire city down into a grid and has all the routes in the back telling you what streets the bus travels on. To use the guide, you find where you are on one page and grid, you look up where you want to go on another page and grid, and then you try to match up a bus that travels to both places. Once you learn how to use the Guía-T, you start walking a lot less.

Posted by: Jamie, Buenos Aires, Spring 2007

Sydney- I LOVE this city!

It's a little over two months since I was in Sydney and I am definitely missing it.  Sydney had so many amazing things that Penn State doesn't have, I am finding it is the small things that I am missing most.  After a night out with friends I always took time to walk barefoot across the beach back to my apartment.  I miss people telling me that I'm Canadian, or, at least that I have a "very strong Canadian accent" which I always gave me a good laugh.  I also miss trivia night.  Every Wednesday, my friends and I visited the Randwick Rugby Club for weekly trivia.  The first week we were there, it was a little funny that we were the only team under the age of forty.  We were loud, we laughed, we asked all the teams next to us for help when there was some question about Australian history that we were clueless about.  Before I knew it, our team became a regular fixture of trivia night and the host always came over to us as soon as we entered.  He helped get tables for us to push together or extra chairs.  I truly felt like a local and no longer an international student.  The host and the other teams always looked forward to our team name of the week, with my personal favorite being "Hillary Clinton '08"  (As if they couldn't tell that we were Americans before that, haha.)  Now back at Penn State, I have to say, that is one of the things I miss most.  Wednesday night trivia at the Randwick Rugby Club.  Our team even won a few times, but it was the time spent together with my friends that was truly the best.

Matt Shiskowski, Fall 2007, University of New South Wales: Sydney, Australia

1 Month Retrospective

It has been about a month since I returned from my semester abroad in Freiburg im Breisgau, Germany. Looking back, I really learned a lot. Not just in the academic sense (I could tell you that Croatia is likely to join the European Union in 2009 or that Leonard Orban from Romania is the European Commissioner for Multilingualism, but who wants the hear that?), but I learned a lot about interaction with other cultures.

There are quite a few stereotypes about Germans: beer-guzzling, super-physically fit, insular, efficient, fun-hating, industrious workers. Well, there is some truth to some of those (try drinking three liters of beer and eating an entire chicken in the span of 4 hours). However, I found the Germans to be some of the most interesting and welcoming people I’ve ever encountered. For example, at dinner my first night in Freiburg, a friend’s mother commented on my poor table manners by German standards. However, she laughed it off, stating that she understood the same manners were acceptable in America, and handed me another serving of lasagna.

I lived with 5 Germans in a Wohnheimsgemeinschaft (literally “living community,” but “dormitory” is easier). I admit I was a little concerned about my ability to speak German, their ability to speak English, and any lost-in-translation moments that might occur as a result. As it turns out, they spoke nothing but German with me, which really helped my language-speaking ability. As we sat in the kitchen together and joked around, I learned about regional differences, and they taught me some local slang (some of my favorite insults: Beckenrandschwimmer: “swimming pool edge swimmer,” colloquially a wuss. Festnetztelefonierer: “land-line caller,” someone who isn’t up to date technologically). In doing so, I really came to embrace the German culture. They have a real respect for nature, as evidenced by the success of Green environmental policies. They have a passion for travel, and as such, an appreciation for world cultures. The local Canyon Pizza equivalent, a meat sandwich with yogurt sauce called Döner kebap, was invented by a Turkish-German immigrant. They take pride in what they do; the German Reinheitsgebot, a law enacted in the 16^th century and still enforced, upholds the quality of German beer (fans of Natty Light need not apply).

It’s not that I was culturally insensitive at the get-go. My semester abroad really taught me some lessons that are not easily learned in a traditional classroom setting. So, wherever you go, bask in the local culture!

-- David Hardison

Freiburg Stadtmitte: Bertoldsbrunnen

Fiori di Zucca

Last summer, I studied abroad in Todi, Italy, with 22 other Penn State students. Todi is a picturesque Umbrian town in the heart of Italy, only about 2 hours from Rome and Perugia. For the entire length of the program, we lived with local host families in Todi. My host family's house was situated on a farm surrounded by vineyards, sunflower fields and hills covered with pine trees; and living there was truly amazing!
One of the best things about living with a host family in Italy was getting to eat AUTHENTIC Italian food. My host mom, Gabriella, was one of the best cooks on the program and the great thing was that she would even teach us how to make those dishes. Whenever she was preparing a new dish or a dish she knew we particularly liked, she would call us into the kitchen so that we could see how she was doing it.
One of my favorite recipes from the trip was Fried Zucchini Flowers. Now, I didn't even know that a zucchini plant had flowers, least of all that they were edible. Fiori di Zucca or Zucchini flowers are these bright yellow, almost golden, blossoms that grow on the end of baby zucchinis. They are very perishable and have to be used fresh, the day they are bought. These blossoms, when dipped in a batter and fried, make delicious crispy appetizers. People in Italy eat them in other ways also, like stuffed with ricotta cheese or even as pizza topping.
It's hard to find zucchini flowers at grocery stores here. So when I came back home, after the program, I planted some zucchini in my garden. But I knew that even if I did manage to grow them at home, I wouldn't be able to repeat the experience; and that's something I really miss from my summer study abroad in Italy!
Posted by Vrinda, Todi, Italy

The Bus That Got Away

This is a story about the promptness of the British public transportation system.

It was a fine idea, at the onset, to spend a day in London as soon as possible after arriving at the University of Kent in Canterbury, in the southeast of England and a mere 2 hours from one of the most famous capitals in the world. It seemed an equally fine idea to save money by not spending the night, and rather book the first bus in that morning and the last bus out that night. Isn’t it funny how things always sound better on paper?

That morning of January 20th, five bubbling American students trundled down the long hill from the University into downtown Canterbury. We watched the sun rise against a dusty blue sky as we walked, and smiled, imagining it was a good omen.

We rounded the last corner on High Street to see the bus roaring to life. As we broke into sprints and toppled on, now a panting early morning heap of limps and coats, I looked at my watch: 6:05 AM on the dot. Never in my life had I been on a bus that left at exactly the minute listed on the ticket. Something to remember, I thought groggily, and spent the rest of the bus ride recuperating.

Our time in London was idyllic. We saw everything from Big Ben to the Tower of London, zipped about on the tube and giggled each time we heard, “Mind the gap.” We ate lunch in Hyde Park despite the less-than-ideal picnicking temperature, and shared pints of cider at a pub with old bearded men after dinner.

Our bus left the London Victoria coach station at 11:45 PM, so we decided it would be best to return absurdly early, just in case, the memory of our morning sprint still fresh in our minds.
All day, we had been riding the yellow Circle line around to everywhere we needed to go - it was quite convenient. So we hopped on it again and settled in.

“This is great,” one of our party said happily. “All day in London, and we haven’t gotten lost or anything!”

“I know,” I agreed happily. “We’ve done really well!”

2 stops pass, and with a sinking stomach I realized we were on the wrong subway train. We had somehow gotten on the Pink line, which paralleled the Yellow for quite a while, and must have shared a track. The trains were not marked except at the front, so by following the signs for Yellow we had assumed it was, well, the Yellow. We had only sidetracked by one stop, so it wasn’t that big of a deal - we got off, reversed, and switched platforms to the Yellow.

And waited. And waited. And waited.

Apparently, Saturday nights were prime time for underground construction. It took a solid 15 minutes for our train to arrive, and when it did, it crawled. And I mean crawled. Anxiously, we watched the time - 20 minutes till bus blast-off.

“How do you leave an hour early for a 20 minute tube ride and wind up pushing the clock so much?” one of the girls moaned under her breath.

You use under construction public transportation, that’s how. I signed and shifted my weight anxiously.

10 minutes. 2 stops away. 5 minutes. Victoria train station – 3 blocks away from the coach station where we needed to be.

We literally sprinted off of the train. There were two ways out; we burst up the first to find nothing familiar. We darted back down, I almost ran over a small child, and finally we found ourselves on a familiar street.

Three of the others vanished in the bustle of London. Behind me, I heard the fourth girl cry out. Turning, I see her limping on a freshly twisted ankle.

First casualty, I thought grimly, and we staggered forward.

We rounded the bend by the Starbucks to see the other three standing, confused. With a sinking stomach, I realized none of them knew the way back.

“Down that street!” I screamed, and they bolted.

This is absurd, I thought as I gave her directions. This is absolutely out of control.

Finally, heart pounding, I rounded the last bend to the station - and see a coach pulling away with “Dover, Canterbury” on the front. My watch said 11:45 on the dot.

“That’s… that’s our bus. Oh God. Yup, yeah, that was ours.”

We stormed into the station anyway and begged the attendant to ask the bus to wait. It was all of a block away, but she said she wasn’t allowed. She told us it had one more stop in the city, but when we asked her for directions there, she said that if we didn’t know, we would never find it.
Deflated, we plopped down in the metal seats of the station. The next bus wasn’t until 7 the next morning. Some of the group began to curse the system, but really it was an extraordinary bout of bad luck. It felt wrong to be mad at the bus for leaving on time - we knew it did from the morning. Our only fault had been ignoring the signs about tube construction, and assuming an hour was long enough to get anywhere in London.

Lesson learned? Don’t ever - EVER - book the last bus out of London. Or anywhere, for that matter.

So I started mentally preparing myself for a night in the bus station, when a burly security guard come up to us.

“Station’s closing. You’ll have to leave,” he grunted. We stared open-mouthed as he walked away.

Stunned silence captured us for a moment, until one boy through back his hands. “And the bottom drops out,” he groans.

Now, me in a bad situation typically means uncontrolled laughter. This was no different. I was rather useless as we began our hunt for a night’s lodging, consumed by the absurdity of the situation and already appreciating what a fantastic story it was going to make.

We walked around the general area, looking for a bar or pub or anything open at night - let me tell you, the area around Victoria train station closes down at midnight. They won’t let you in the train or bus station unless you have a ticket for something in the next half hour, and the underground shuts down at 12. There aren’t any 24-hour Wal-Marts here, folks.

So, we bought tea and spent the night in the drop off point out front of the train station. In all honesty, it wasn’t that bad — a little cold, but we were surrounded by other travelers, security guards, taxi drivers, etc, plus we had each other and a vendor selling pastries, coffee, and tea all night. The sidewalk was cold, but it was never cold to the point of feeling as though staying outside would be a dangerous thing. Uncomfortable, nothing more.

Around 5 AM, the coach station opened up again. We had to pay another 11 pounds ($22) for a new bus ticket, which left on the dot at 7 AM, getting us home by 8:30. I slept from 9 until 2:30 in the afternoon, through what turned out to be the first sunny day since I had arrived in England.

Of course.

The experience taught me something invaluable about studying abroad, and about travel in general: along with your passport and visa, the most crucial thing to carry with you is a sense of humor. Write this down: things will go wrong. It’s inevitable and unavoidable. All the best laid plans are bound to fall off the track at least once, and the best thing you can be armed with (along with hot tea and pastries, of course) are good friends to rely on, and laughter at the situation. Learn, adapt, and roll with the punches – and come back with stories and experiences that make your friends and family say, “I can’t imagine…”

They can’t. You can. And boy, is that an empowering feeling.


Posted by Marian, Canterbury, England Spring 2007

Two Universities Worlds Apart

While studying in Spain I took three univeristy classes at the Universidad de Sevilla with Spanish students, Spanish professors, and a few other American or international students mixed in. In general, everything in Sevilla was much more laid back and this included the univeristy system. There was no registering for classes online or a strict seating capacity. In fact, we were given the first two weeks of classes to "try out" a bunch of classes and see which ones we preferred. The Univeristy was home to many international students, largely from America and Europe, so professors and students were used to interacting with other students still learning the language. Located in an urban setting, the different colleges were housed in separate buildings spread throughout the city, typically only a bus ride away. The location I studied at was known as the Tabacalera because the building used to function as a tobacco factory. With lecture halls around the outside of the building there were plenty of open plazas in the interior, adding a decidedly Spanish style and a fun place for students to hang out. In many ways Penn State was the complete opposite experience than the Universidad de Sevilla. As a typical American college town Happy Valley is dorms, no parents, school spirit. While in Sevilla, the University was one aspect of the students' lives but did not create their entire identity. Every day spent at the University I was able to learn through observing and interacting with my peers, quickly finding out about everything from the latest fashion to the most popoular slang.

Posted by Clare, Seville, Spain, Spring 2007

Independence day in Mallorca

The 4th of July in Palma de Mallorca (a small island of the coast of Spain) was definitely the most interesting one that I’ve ever celebrated. All eleven students on the program crowded onto the roof of one of the apartment buildings we were staying in, and the Madre’s (host mothers) threw us their version of a 4th of July barbecue complete with red, white and blue streamers (I have no idea where they found these) hotdogs, pizza, and champagne. Then after dinner and some festivities, they passed out copies of the Declaration of Independence to everyone… in Spanish. We took terms reading aloud fumbling through all the Spanish words we had never heard of, much to the delight of all of the madres. We ended the evening at an American themed bar called Hogan’s, where I think heard the Red Hot Chili Pepper’s song Dani California at least 5 times.

Los Simpson

In Buenos Aires, Los Simpson are everywhere. Posters, t-shirts, magnets, notebooks. My host mom's grandsons loved watching the show when they would come over to her house after school and it was really interesting to hear the show in another language. Since I was used to hearing Homer and Bart's English voices, it was strange to hear their banter in Spanish for the first time. Honestly, as much as I love the language, the Spanish voices were kind of high pitched and obnoxious and not Simpson-esque.

Posted by: Jamie, Buenos Aires, Spring 2007

Our First Excursion: Madrid!

After about our first month in Seville, Spain my friends and I decided it was time to plan our first overnight visit to another city. We decided on Madrid, as it is a must see in Spain and a relatively easy trip to plan on the four days of preparation we allowed ourselves. We chose the cheapest mode of transportation to reach our northern neighbor, the bus. We scheduled the midnight bus and arrived in Madrid at 6am, with our excitement temporarily clouded by our sleep-deprived status. Feeling both adventurous and also skeptical about booking our first hostel on the internet, we figured since we knew a good deal of spanish at that time we would find a hostel once we arrived. And so, 3 American girls began strolling up and down Gran Via in Madrid looking for lodging in the early morning hours. We settled on the first place we found with a vacancy: Hostel Acapulco, a nice place, but a bit expensive. We did not yet know the ins-and-outs hostel living: good rates, the best websites, the different room options. The little, old madrileño working at the front desk let us know it would be a few hours until the room was ready, so with no other option we hit the streets. After a brief stop for a cafe con leche we got out our trusty map and began whizzing through the city. As the Spanish are known for their late nights and late mornings, we had much of Madrid to ourselves during our first hours of sight-seeing. We were so excited to explore the city and just see a new city for a change, as we had been itching to travel. Ever since high school Spanish classes I had learned about the great paintings of Velazquez, Goya, el Greco, and Picasso housed in Madrid museums. Seeing the paintings in person was like coming full circles as I could remember sitting in Spanish classes looking at these paintings in textbooks and dreaming of studying abroad in Spain one day. It was hard to believe the day had come. Throughout the trip we made near constant comparisons to Sevilla, as we had become so acquainted with it. We noticed similarities and differences in the food, the accent, the character of the people. Maybe it took out first trip away to see how connected we had gotten to the city, our new friends, and our host families. The weekend helped us see another side of the country of Spain, another aspect of its personality.

Posted by Clare, Seville, Spain, Spring 2007

News from Past Peer Advisers, now in Thailand

Note: two peer advisers from the 2006-2007 academic year, Kristine and James, decided to move abroad again after they graduated in May '07. They now live in Khon Kaen, Thailand, where they teach English. We received this update from Kris in early January 2008.

Sawatee Ka!
Happy New Year!

I had a pretty interesting time spending Christmas in a Buddhist country. James and I celebrated by exchanging gifts and eating a really good breakfast. Then we decided to go to the Nine Tier temple in Khon Kaen look at some of the relics and statues, after that we walked around the lake, had some good coffee (another oxymoron being that I am in THAILAND), and had a wonderful dinner in a little restaurant up the street from us. The next day I had to be back at work for the little kindergarteners to celebrate Christmas. The next day the celebrations continued with learning “The Twelve Days of Christmas” as part of their math assignment. Friday is where the real fun begins because now I have four days off for New Years!

The trip starts at 8pm when James and I along with 7 Thai teachers load into two cars, and embark on a 12 hour journey to Chiang Mai. It was 12 hours because every hour and a half we stopped for 20 min to use the bathroom or get snacks at 7-Eleven! We arrived at our destination at 8 am had a shower and then a Thai massage. Afterward we had lunch then went to the Hot Springs where we got to boil and eat eggs. I even ate Quail eggs which tasted exactly like regular chicken eggs. There were two pretty tall Geysers and around the hot springs you could stick your feet in the warm water. This was also the point where I said "hey, could James and I go to the Mountains for the day and come back?" *Thai people begin to speak rapidly* and voila...we are going camping on New Year’s Eve and of course I don't have my sneakers.

The next day we met with three more Farang teachers, inform them of the impromptu camping trip, and spend the day in the Queen Sirikit Park seeing botanical gardens and waterfalls. It was all beautiful and when we came back to the city we went to the central Night Market. I saw some really cool things and of course began to stock pile, I will have to ship stuff back at the rate of which I am collecting gifts for people. There is a temple at the end of this market where people were sending these white cylinder shaped balloons with fire up into the air. We learned that it was for the New Year that you chant, then lift away all your sins (so to speak) and bring good luck for the coming year. The higher it goes the more luck you will have.

The next day we went camping. There was a campfire and we roasted meat and also made sticky rice inside of hallowed out bamboo shoots. It was really easy; you fill the shoot with enough rice and water that it is about an inch from the top then cook it over a fire for however long it takes for the rice to cook. It was really cool to do and I hope that I will be able to re do it when I come back. We did the countdown on the mountain I will have to say that this is one of the best new years I have ever spent in my life! The next morning we pack and get ready to go back home. Finally we are ready to leave at 3pm (we were supposed to leave at 6am but oh well); or so I thought. But nope, we went to visit Taki's family in Lampung, it was cool and I enjoyed drinking a bit with his uncle. My Thai is not that great so communication was a bit hard but somehow we got a bit of conversation going. Final arrival time back in Khon Kaen 3:30 am in the morning and I had to teach at 10 am.