Valpo Voyager

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Barcelona: The Good, The Bag, and One Ugly Thief

February 19, 2011 / hannahbauer / 0 Comments

Overview of Barcelona from Parc Guell

Inside Sagrada Familia

It all started with a dream. It was our last night in Barcelona and while everyone else in our hostel was roasting (it was apparently pretty hot in our room, but I slept right through it), I was dreaming about Barcelona gypsies brutally robbing me blind. Luckily, I’m only about 50 percent prophetic.

Outside Sagrada Familia

The weekend thus far had been highly successful, we spent it ogling at the beautiful architecture, walking miles from plaza to plaza, and soaking in our fair share of Vitamin D at the beach. My favorite thing had been the Sagrada Familia, a church Gaudi designed that has been under construction for over a hundred years and the beach was a close second place. We’d enjoyed a fair share of sangria and a couple helpings of tapas and I was ready to go. But Barcelona had different plans for me.

Playa de Barceloneta

The Scene of the Crime

Sunday morning after my scary dream and a decent continental breakfast, we left our hostel and started the trek to the bus station where we intended to board a bus that would take us the hour drive to the airport in Girona. On the way, we had some extra time so we stopped at the Parc del Arc de Triumph to take some pictures and relax. My friend Hanna and I left our bags with some friends while we went to go take some pictures. After Hanna had gotten her picture in front of the ballerina-esque statue, we were walking back towards the group and I couldn’t spot my bag. I assured myself it couldn’t have gone anywhere and was probably just behind Lauren.

The $2,000 photo

We quickly came to realize that was not the case. My poor friends had undergone an entire gypsy plan of attack without even knowing it. While distracted by a man asking for money, a co-hort must have snuck up from behind and taken my bag. It could have been anyone’s, but it was mine. Since we were on our way to the airport, I had everything in there. I mean EVERYTHING. iPhone, iPod, Passport, Driver’s License, Credit Card, UK phone, etc.. etc… approximately $2,000 worth of stuff. It didn’t take me long to realize that I would not be allowed to board the plane in three hours with zero forms of identification.
After a few frantic phone calls, the police arrived and in some horrible, broken, Spanglish (on all our parts) and a couple rounds of charades, they understood the situation and had sent Hanna (my new designated caretaker, thank God for her) and I to the Police station. There we filed a police report with the best looking Spanish cop I’d ever seen. The entire station was friendly and helpful. They told us to go to the airport with our police report and a faxed copy of my passport and we should be able to board. The day prior to our day of departure, this would have worked; however, RyanAir’s policies had changed and after an hour long bus ride to the airport we found ourselves returning to Barcelona and re-checking into our hostel, defeated.

Sangria and Chocolate

In the morning, we woke up early and got to the US consulate right after they opened. I’ve never been so happy to see an American Flag. Within two hours I had an emergency passport in hand and was ready to go home. Sadly, the flight we had intended to take had over tripled in price overnight and the earliest one the next day was 9:15 PM. We returned back to our hostel and checked in for a third time. We spend the rest of the day shopping for essentials to make it through our last 32 hours of Spain, AKA sangria, chocolate, and clean clothes.

View of Barcelona from Parc Guell

Our final day we slept as late as possible trying to eat up the time before we could leave. We did a walking tour of the Gothic quarter led by an entertaining polish woman who gave us lots of insights into the history and culture of the area. Then we visited Gaudi’s park, which was nothing like we expected. Sadly, we didn’t get to spend much time there, but we did get some amazing overlooks of the whole city. We hopped on the bus—for the fourth time—and headed to the airport with more than enough time to catch our flight. We killed our last two hours in Spain with a bottle of Sangria and then got on a plane to go home. I’ve never been more excited to see the cars going the opposite way on the street as I was when we were landing in London and I just about tackled everyone when I got back to the house. Barcelona was beautiful, and tricky, but I was just so glad to home. Well, home away from home.

Look at my pictures from the whole Barcelona (Mis)Adventure here and get to see some more of the good parts of my trip!

Roughing It in an Indigenous Community: My Mexican Internship

One of the little girls who came to Casa del Sol.

After weeks of listening to presentations by different organizations, filling out countless amounts of tedious paperwork, and having about 2.5 interviews, I finally started my internship this past weekend. I’m working with la Fundación Origen, which is a non-government organization (NGO for those of you familiar with the lingo) that collaborates with an indigenous community located in Xaltipan, Puebla, Mexico.

On Thursday afternoon we (2 Americans, 3 Australians, and a Canadian) hopped on a bus headed toward the city of Cuetzalan, which is about 4 hours north of Cholula. Upon our arrival, we had to take another “bus,” which was really a pickup truck with a cover over the truck bed, for an hour. By the time we arrived at the Fundación Origen headquarters, known as the Casa del Sol, I was exhausted.

Emilio, the organizer, had warned us that we would be “roughing it” this weekend, and he really wasn’t lying. The house had no running water. The bathroom was outside. And there were no mattresses so we had to sleep on the floor.

On Friday and Saturday we got to know the location a bit. Though the Mexican government has been trying to make an effort to help the indigenous peoples of the country for the past few years, most of their efforts have fallen short. The result has been extreme poverty, pervasive alcoholism, high drop out rates from high school, and numerous problems with domestic violence within indigenous communities. Xaltipan exhibited many of these problems. Many of the people walked around with no shoes, tattered clothing, and had teeth that were in very poor conditions. While many of these observations could possibly be attributed to cultural differences, I do not think it would be out of line to say that poverty had a great effect on these people.

I was frustrated a lot this weekend because it seemed like we were not really doing anything. One of the customs of this community is to invite visitors into their homes and feed them. There’s nothing wrong with free food, except when you get invited to three different homes in the spans of three hours and given a full meal at each. I had a bit of a culture shock moment the first time we were eating because we were served soup and not given a spoon to eat it with. Emilio explained to us that we had to fashion spoons out of the homemade corn tortillas that the people gave us. You would think it would be easy to make a tortilla spoon, but in reality it’s really difficult. You end up eating about 10-12 tortillas just to finish one bowl of soup. Needless to say I’ve starting exercising after this gluttonous weekend.

On Saturday, we had the opportunity to work with an after school program called Casa del Sol. I helped the six year olds with their math homework. Somehow math homework turned into drawing time, which led to a marker fight that ultimately resulted in me having marker all over my face. It was slightly frustrating, but I still had a lot of fun.

I still can't get over how beautiful Mexican open air markets are.

On Sunday, we went to the open-air market that was in Cuetzalan. It was your standard Mexican market except it was a lot larger than usual. After spending about two hours there, we made are way back to the bus station and headed back to Puebla. I’ll be going back during the middle of March.

Here's a picture of an indigenous woman doing business with a Mexican woman at the Cuetzalan market.

Valentine’s Day…in Mexico

February 15, 2011 / Lydia Mertz / 0 Comments

“Love is but the discovery of ourselves in others, and the delight in the recognition.”
-Alexander Smith

Valentine’s Day- some love it and some hate it. Some say that people adore Valentine’s Day when they have a significant other and others despise it when they are single because of the cheesy love crap marketing conspiracy that goes along with the chocolate and the flowers. To be honest, I’ve never celebrated a Valentine’s Day in my life where I was with a boyfriend. Now, before you start wailing about my singlehood, just wait. Although it would be romantic to spend Valentine’s Day with a special guy (that day will come, no worries), it’s been so lovely to spend it single because every year it’s a beautiful reminder of friendship for me and being here in Mexico definitely proved that.

Valentine’s Day is known as “Día de San Valetín” in Spanish but is also called “Día de la Amistad” or “Frienship Day” because here in Mexico, the love between friends is just as important as the love between novios or boyfriends and girlfriends. Although there is the mushy love stuff, there is also this celebration of the love between friends. So, naturally, with some wonderful friends, we celebrated Valentine’s Day.

Cynthia and Martin making our delicious food!

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A group of us met at my friend Cynthia’s house where we ate delicious tlayudas, salad and candy. We sat around her living room just chatting, gossiping, and making jokes. It was simple and pleasant but for whatever reason, I loved the fact that this was normal in Mexico. It’s practically impossible to feel alone in this country. This was a group of people who had helped me from day one when I first arrived here as a nervous and excited foreigner. They have been with me with me through the good and bad and never fail to make me laugh. It didn’t matter if we were single or if we were not, we were just happy to be with each other.

Group photo...just missing our friend Angel!

My Valentine’s Day was spent single but was simple and special. From wearing a red shirt to receiving a red rose from my roommate Martina to a (huge) fabulous meal with friends, what more could a girl ask for? I’ve loved to celebrate life more in Mexico and have discovered people to celebrate that with. Yes, having a boyfriend or girlfriend is wonderful and special but Valentine’s Day also reminds us of the beauty of friendship and but most importantly the privilege to love.
Saludos

Cooking French

February 15, 2011 / Emily Royer / 0 Comments

I think a lot of people are under the common misconception that it’s difficult and expensive to cook French food or to eat well in general. Admittedly, I was once one of those people, but after stumbling across this man’s blog and very willingly falling victim to the charms of Julia Child, I’m determined to counter that stereotype and I’d love to share it with all of you! Obviously, as a college student, I’m not the wealthiest woman in the world, and I’ve come even farther from that title since coming to France. Luckily, food is beloved and cheap here and I have free reign to experiment. I’m realizing, however, that the staples of classic French cooking can be had in the States as well without breaking the bank. As I found out last week you can do any number of things with just butter, bread, eggs, and cheese. A few days ago I decided to splurge in order to broaden my horizons for many weeks to come. One of my treasures, and seemingly, the theme for this week’s meals has been a massive 3.5 kg (almost 8lbs!!!) bag of potatoes. That treasure, along with the recipe for a sauce I was taught and wearily comprehended my first day here inspired the following recipe:

What: Gratin Provençal avec Sauce Béchamel

What that actually means: Potatoes, tomatoes, and onions layered, baked together and covered in béchamel sauce.

Serves 1

Before you Start:

You can make this either in the oven or on the stovetop in a skillet. If you’re going to use the oven, preheat it to 350.

I recommend having a baguette or other type of bread to accompany this meal.

You’ll Need:

– 1 Potato, a little smaller than fist-sized, sliced into thin pieces

– 1 Med-Large slicing tomato, sliced thinly

– half an onion (if that), again, sliced thinly

– About ¼ cup of a dry White wine

– Olive oil

– 1 clove of garlic, crushed (just lay the flat part of your knife over it, unpeeled, and hit it with your fist. The peel will come right off)

– Herbs de Provence (or any of your other favorite spices)

– Butter

– Flour

– Milk

– Salt

– Pepper

For the Gratin:

Rub the crushed clove of garlic over the bottom of the pan or dish and set it aside for the sauce if you like. Then pour in enough olive oil to cover the bottom.
Lay down a single layer of potato slices, followed by onions, and tomatoes
Oh so good.
Drizzle on a little more olive and some of the wine. Season with herbs and salt and pepper to taste.
Repeat the layering and drizzling and such until all the vegetables are in the pan.
If making this in the oven, bake uncovered at 350 for about 40 minutes or until the liquids are bubbling and the edges of the vegetables are just starting to brown. If making this in a skillet, cook covered over low heat for about 45 minutes or until potatoes are tender.

For the Sauce:

I couldn’t tell you how much of anything I used for the sauce as I just went by the texture. But you will need equal parts butter and flour. Melt the butter in a small saucepan or pot on low heat. When it’s melted, whisk in the flour and whisk the milk into the mixture in small amounts until the sauce is combined and looks sauce-like.

Not what I mean by "sauce-like"

I added salt and pepper to mine and when I was done with the garlic clove for the gratin I threw it into my sauce as well. Then, I melted a little bit of cheese into it for added flavor.

The recipe for béchamel sauce is basically just the recipe for a plain sauce. If you’re feeling adventurous try throwing different things in. May I suggest making homemade mac&cheese? Cook some macaroni noodles and melt some cheddar cheese (or any kind you like) into the sauce after you’ve whisked the milk in. They don’t sell mac&cheese here in France so I fully plan on making some with this sauce at some point in time.

That's better

When both are finished, pour the béchamel over the gratin, and mix slightly with the wine and oil in the gratin. Eat well, with a huge piece of bread to soak up any extra sauce, you won’t want to let a drop go to waste. Bon Appétit!

Homestays!

February 13, 2011 / Molly Kestner / 0 Comments

The past 10 days I’ve been with my family on my urban homestay in Windhoek. It was slightly less eventful than the first few action packed weeks, but it was a good time nonetheless!
For the CGE program, homestays are an essential part of our learning process. We did the 2 day one in Soweto, this one for 10 days, and in about 4 weeks we have a 5 day rural stay in a northern village. They serve as a chance for us to be really immersed in culture here. Although, one of the things I’ve learned is that Namibian culture is just as diverse as American; every family has a different story, language, and life. Life in general is similar; my family watched TV to wind down, ate a lot of meat and rice, and everyone enjoys a good party. The struggle is in learning to accept the little things like driving habits, waking up early, and the smell of food.
Some tips for a successful homestay:
-Have a big appetite for dinner or else make sure you serve yourself! The food was good, but it was always more than I was hungry for.
-Be comfortable with using your hands and a spoon to eat! It is actually quite freeing to be able to pick apart your chicken without worrying about what someone will think.
-Accept that there will be times when you will be utterly confused about where you’re going and what is going on. Between the language barrier and spontaneous friend visits, you’ll end up lost at some point.
-Learn to love to watch soccer or get good at faking it. (I certainly didn’t mind!)
-Bake a recipe from home if you’re homesick, but check ingredient availability first.

Sometimes the language and cultural barriers are tough and each experience is unique. Whether good or bad, they are more than worthwhile. Now I’m ready for a week and half of a near normal schedule before we head to the coast!

My host mother, Renathe, and one of my host brothers, Donovan.

And if you want to listen to some popular South African House music, check out Liquideep’s “Alone”!

I am having a bit of a Zit Fit…

February 9, 2011 / Hayden O'Shaughnessy / 0 Comments

Disclaimer: If you have a queasy stomach, please do not read this post. You won’t like it. But if you are the average young person who suffers from a blemish here and there you might want to take a gander.

This is what I have resorted to...

I am embarrassed to say it, but I am breaking out like a mad woman. My face is having a zit fit. It’s gross. It’s not like these pesky pimples are popping up in my normal “hotspots” (right next to my nose); nope, they’re everywhere, on my cheeks, under my chin, on my forehead, everywhere. Seriously, it’s disgusting.

It’s gotten so bad that every time I show my face on Skype people make comments, “What’s that on your face?” It’s a zit darn it! Isn’t it nice that people are taking notice from halfway across the freaking planet. It’s quite encouraging. Most people that I have talked to have also been quick to give me advice, “Well, have you been washing your face?” No, I actually douse my face with oil every night. Unless you are a dermatologist or have lived abroad and had a similar problem, then you can’t comment. As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough, my mom also comments on my newly blemished face. My favorite, “That looks like it hurts!” Thank you Captain Obvious would you like to comment on any of my other imperfections?

For a while now, I have been trying to figure out the source of the problem. Originally, I thought it may be due to the water here in Reutlingen, and I thought my face would clear up in a few weeks. False. I’ve been here for a little over a month now and my incessant acne just keeps getting worse. Then, I thought it may be the alcohol, but I don’t drink that often and I am not giving that up anytime soon. Right now I am thinking it’s all the traveling we have been doing lately. Train stations aren’t the cleanest places on the planet and my skin may not be adapting all that well. For now that’s the best answer to this embarrassing predicament.

If you haven’t read my bio, I am a nursing major, which means that I love puss; I think it’s a prerequisite in the field. With that said, I, of course, pop my zits. I can’t help it. There is something truly satisfying about expelling that cream-colored junk and then dabbing the remaining crater with a toilet paper square. Lately though, I have grown tired popping my white caps. Plus, I really don’t want scares all over my face.

You may be wondering if have I tried to cover up these mini volcanic masses? The answer is yes, but all of the foundation in the world won’t cover up my little problem. I woke up at 5:30 this morning and went to the bathroom and was so horrified with my face that I decided that I to find a solution immediately. I Facebooked a former Reutlingen study abroad alumnus from whom I am still awaiting a response. I got on the proactivsolution.de site to order some Revitalizing Toner, but I couldn’t get the toner to stay in the cart. I kept getting the “Ihr Warenkorb ist leer. Bitte klicken Sie hier, um Ihren Einkauf fortzusetzen.” Which means: “Your basket is empty. Please click here to continue shopping.” It was not! I had just clicked the “Bestellen” (order) button! I eventually gave up and continued my search over the internet. I didn’t find much, but I learned some important German words:

Zit = der Pickel

pimple = die Noppe

Face = Gesicht

face wash = Gesicht Dusch

white head = der Hopfentrieb

puss = die Fresse

So, there’s your German lesson for the day. I will keep you updated on my zit dilemma unless I get in trouble for the content of this post, in which case you can email me hayden.oshaughnessy@valpo.edu. I will be happy to answer any questions, especially to those who are interesting in studying abroad in the future! Thanks for reading!

Misbehaving Locks, Good Food, and Preppy House Parties: My Weekend in Vera Cruz

February 8, 2011 / Nick Derda / 0 Comments

Taking that “seize all ye roses while ye can” mantra to heart, I jumped on my Mexican friend Jorge’s offer to come home with him this past weekend to Vera Cruz. This was a very gringo-filled weekend, as I would also be traveling with my friends Katie and Skylar who go to the University of Wyoming and who are completing their second semester at UDLAP. We left on Friday afternoon at around 3p. After the 3 ½ hour bus ride on one of those coach buses, we finally made it to his mom’s apartment. When we got there, however, we ran into quite the snafu. Unbeknownst to Jorge, his Mom had changed the locks a few weeks ago so we had to wait about an hour outside in the unseasonably cold Vera Cruz elements until his mom came with the new keys.

This is a statue of Porfirio Díaz, one of the most important political figures in Mexico. It was located near the port, which was one of the few places we actually got to visit.

After finally getting inside, his Mom took us all out to dinner. The restaurant was weird because it was basically the living room to somebody’s house, which I’m beginning to realize is a pretty common setup in Mexico. After pigging out on tortas, empanadas, and fried tortillas, and falling for one of Jorge’s try-it-because-it’s-not-that-spicy-although-it-really-is jokes, we went back to the apartment and waited for Jorge’s friend Zelma to come pick us up.

At about 10.30, Zelma arrived in her SUV that looked like it had been a contestant on MTV’s “Pimp My Ride.” We went to this rather pricey bar where the smallest thing of beer they sold was three liters. Everything was expensive because we were in Vera Cruz, a place that has been described to me as “The Hills of Mexico.”

The next morning, we woke up late. Jorge had locked the door the previous night and we just now realized that the lock had broken and we were trapped inside his apartment. There were bars on all the windows for safety reasons, so there was really no other way to get out. This situation was just too ridiculous to be real. But then again this was Mexico, a place as I’ve come to learn where anything can happen. After some failed DIY-tries to get the door open with a screwdriver, Jorge finally got one of his neighbors to call a lock smith who was able to open the door in about 2.5 nano seconds, making all of us feel slightly incompetent.

By the time we were able to actually leave the apartment, it was about 9p. Zelma came over and picked us again and took us to a party she was having at her house. Her house seriously looked like something off an episode of MTV’s “Cribs” (sorry for all the pop cultural references today btw. I just don’t know how else to describe this stuff). The house was one of those modern-looking pads made out of concrete in a gated community that made it feel like we were in a prison. In the middle of the house was a courtyard with an in ground pool. In the guesthouse, where we were hanging out, her dad had a private music studio and a 15-person movie theater with mood lighting that kept changing colors!

As if I didn’t feel out of place already, Zelma’s friends were all those Abercrombie and Fitch model wannabes who live for partying, don’t care about school, and don’t really have to worry about their futures because daddy’s trust funds will take care of them for the rest of their lives (sorry if this comes off as bitter…I’m just not used to being around people of this social class). It made for a really interesting social dynamic because I had essentially nothing in common to talk to them about. It’s hard when your interests are more along the interests of human rights, social justice and liberation theology and all they talk about is their new Ray Ban sunglasses or who had just hooked up with who at so-and-so’s last beach house party.

The next day was Superbowl Sunday. We took it pretty easy and went to a bar to watch the game. After that we headed to another bar just to get some drinks and talk.

Here’s a pic of the Zocalo in Veracruz. One of the few places that I actually made it to this weekend.

That was pretty much my weekend in Vera Cruz. Although I’ll probably have to go to Vera Cruz again to know what it was actually like, I’m still glad I went. I had a really good time with my friends even though I did feel kind of out of place a lot of the time. Hopefully my next adventure will feel a little less like a wannabe Ke$ha music video and a little more oh hey I’m in Mexico 🙂

The fountain in front of the Veracruz aquarium. It’s one of those cheesy spots where everyone snaps a pic for the family Christmas card.

Jorge described Vera Cruz as a place where people drink, party, sleep, rinse and repeat. So if clubbing and partying aren’t really your scene, then you may want to consider going someplace else in Mexico. In case you want to learn more about Vera Cruz, I have posted a couple of links to some interesting touristy stuff. Enjoy!

Check out the Vera Cruz Aquarium or the Vera Cruz Soccer team.

What a beach should actually look like in Veracruz when the weather isn’t terrible.

Packing for Procrastinators

February 7, 2011 / Emily Royer / 0 Comments

Confession: I did not prepare at all for studying abroad.

My packing buddy

It was my own fault, the combination of bad habits and an entire month off before I took off on the biggest trip of my life gave me the perfect excuse to engage my procrastination skills. I spent the month before my departure working at a local bookstore and during my downtime I’d make lists of things I needed to do or buy before I left, then would promptly ignore them when I got home. By the time my last week at home arrived, my job had ended and I had no more excuses to ignore what I knew I needed to do. Unfortunately, by the time I finally got up the motivation to shop and prepare, I’d lost all my lists. So, I spent the last week half-heartedly gathering my things in various piles. This was a pretty decent strategy. I separated my clothes into things I was taking with me and clothes I would be taking back to school with me when I came back. This really helped me figure out what I was missing and needed.

Disorganization

Now, my main concern with the upcoming semester and packing was cost efficiency, this meant space efficiency. This whole semester abroad will be lived on a fairly tight budget thus skimping whenever possible is necessary. I determined that I needed to get everything in one suitcase to avoid the additional luggage charge and planned my wardrobe accordingly. I opted for dresses and skirts instead of bringing jeans and shorts. Honestly, I’m not the kind of girl to wear dresses, never have been, but when I started thinking about this trip last summer I realized all the advantages of changing my wardrobe habits. To all the girls going abroad out there: believe me, it was a good decision. Not only did I have the ability to bring more skirts and dresses and thus have more options for outfits, but made packing for multiple seasons so much easier. Layering leggings, tights, and sweaters with dresses or skirts transition very easily from winter to spring to summer clothing, and honestly, I blend in better. People in Europe dress much more formally than people in the states. Jeans, t-shirts, and tennis shoes are a pretty easy way to be spotted as a foreigner.

A giant roll of clothing

So, I ran out and grabbed a couple pairs of leggings to guard against the month of lingering French winter I’d be experiencing and set to packing clothes. I brought along two pairs of jeans, all the dresses and skirts I owned (not a lot) and quite a few tops. I was very good and decided I didn’t need 11 different colors of cardigans, 10 would do just fine. I packed 3 pairs of shoes, one of which I wore on my feet, deciding I would buy an extra spring/summer pair when I got there, and I forced myself to only bring 5 t-shirts, most of which would be for any kind of exercise I would be doing. I threw in quite a few camisoles and all of my undergarments to prevent the necessity of doing laundry too frequently. The fewest amount of clothes providing for the greatest amount of outfits and honestly, I think I still brought too many clothes.

I bought huge bottles of any kind of toiletry I needed knowing they’d take up room on the trip over but would provide free space on the way home. Now that I’m here I realize how smart that choice was. Shampoo and similar items are pricier in Europe than they are in the States and I think I’d have a difficult time finding something comparable to what I use at home. I should have packed these in some kind of plastic bag. By the time I got to my room in France and began unpacking I realized that my conditioner had exploded all over my suitcase. It may have actually been a good thing as my clothes were ok, and I salvaged most of the conditioner, the only consequence was the fact that my shoes smelled (and still do smell) absolutely fruity.

Before

The next step was getting everything else I’d bought that wasn’t clothing to fit in my suitcase. A suggestion from my friend who’d just recently come back from a trip to England really saved my life. For some reason I hadn’t heard of the space saver bags everyone’s talking about. They’re just large plastic Ziploc bags that you remove the air from with a vacuum. I bought a box of 3 large bags from Target for around $13 and I could not believe how well they worked! I fit a roll of dresses, the two towels I brought (one to use one to wash) and my roll of tank tops into one bag. You can see how much of a difference they made in my photos. I used my packing buddy as a scale, even though she was terrified of them after I took the air out. All together the bags fit perfectly into my suitcase, leaving just enough room to throw in my shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion and shoes. I also brought along a few small mementos for my walls and, in retrospect, I wish I would have brought more. I recommend bringing a poster or wall hanging of some sort. They’re light and will do wonders for curing homesickness or “oh my gosh what have I gotten myself into?!” freak outs (believe me, I had one).

After

I threw all of my electronics into my carry on along with a couple changes of clothes, travel toiletries, and the two books I brought. It was heavy, but worth it to save the space in my suitcase.

When everything was said and done it probably took me about 3 hours to pack. I made it an all night affair, dragging it out with phone calls to friends and a last minute decision to make cookies for my brother at 4AM. My partner stayed up with me all night and after a one hour nap, we were both just exhausted on the way to the airport.

Worn out after a long night.

Just a Relaxing Weekend

February 7, 2011 / Lydia Mertz / 0 Comments

So, the weekend turned out different than planned.

We don’t have classes tomorrow and due to some circumstances, I am not able to travel. Yeah, it’s a bummer when you’re abroad and want to travel, but (sigh) life is not always the way you want it. On Tuesday, I have an exam AND a presentation to do. No rest for the wicked, eh?

Just chilling on a Sunday afternoon

Anyways, I just stayed home. It sounds boring and lame but somehow it was deliciously refreshing in a way. I chatted with friends on facebook and just rested up in my apartment. The week before had been crazy, so a weekend of nothing felt so good! I watched one of my favorite movies “Under the Tuscan Sun” and made pancakes this morning. Later, I went with two dear friends of mine to see a fantastic movie, “Los Ojos de Julia”.

Yeah, it wasn’t much but sometimes, the simplest things i life are the best. The times where you think you aren’t doing anything, you’re really doing something-renewing yourself. It’s so hard in the American culture because we’re always, go, go, go! In Mexico, I feel more comfortable “just doing nothing”.

So, take time to rest and renew yourself. No sense in hurrying up in life because you’ll miss the simple and beautiful things. Maybe it’s time with friends, eating a fresh orange or listening to soulful music…just sit and well, do “nothing”.

Saludos!

Stir-fry for lunch! Majority of my food is bought from the local market here in Cholula

Living La Vida Loca

February 5, 2011 / hannahbauer / 0 Comments

River Cam downtown Cambridge

So this semester I plan to be in England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, France, Spain, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, and Greece. I’m traveling the world, but I have it on special request to tell my readers about what my life is like here in Cambridge when I am not traveling. Considering I am spending around 70% of my semester in Cambridge going to class, I guess that is logical.

First of all, I love it here. Maybe the British people don’t think we are the coolest thing since sliced bread, but I think they are fantastic! And if you spend time finding the right ones, not all of them have negative preconceived notions about you either. The streets that run through town are pretty small so only taxis and buses are allowed on them. Oh and bicycles, lots and lots of bicycles.

But as for my classes, we are four weeks in and I still don’t know my schedule. I know that I go to class at 9:15 every morning (all of our classes take place in the same room) and that the first class ends at 10:30 at which point I collapse on the couch and take a deep 15 minute nap before I go back for the second class of the day. The only day we have another class after those is Monday, I think. I don’t know which classes are when, but it doesn’t really matter with the way things work around here. I love being done by 12:00 3 days of the week!

At a Pub Quiz, homework for English Life and Culture

I am taking Theology, History, Art Appreciation, Classical Mythology, and English Life and Culture. Our Theology professor is the Reverend at the church next door, runs the seminary attached to it, and is about the sweetest British man in the whole world. We went to church one day and sat behind him and his grandkids came in and were so happy to see him, it just melted my heart! Our History teacher is an Irish born English man who has an opinion about everything. His teaching is interesting, opinionated, and keeps everyone on their toes. Our Art teacher is a sweet Welsh woman who sure can talk about Art. Mark Farmer (our leader here at the center) teaches the last of the two classes and even though they involve the most work of any of our other classes, they also teach us a lot about things that are relevant to our stay here.

My Common Meal

As awesome as all these classes are, my favorite thing about the week here is by far Wednesday nights, when all the hands of the household gather in our two kitchens and set to work chopping, boiling, pounding, and anything else the head or second-in-command chef tells them to do. Then we eat what is always our best meal of the week and we talk and laugh and it is wonderful. We share our highs and lows from the past week, which is always nice when you don’t always know what your house-mates have been up to.

Two weeks ago I led my common meal and it was so much fun! I made Chicken Parmesan and it turned out just wonderfully. I hope that I take these excellent cooking skills home with me!

Group Picture Before Common Meal

Student Stories from Around the World