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Student Stories from Around the World

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The Atmosphere of Alcohol

February 20, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Among the several cultural differences one notices when traveling from America to England, one of the first is the attitude towards alcohol.  In general, I would characterized it as simply more relaxed.  In years past, if you drank water you were likely to contract cholera, so why not drink beer?  This attitude towards alcohol still continues.

The drinking age is lower in the UK at 18 years old.  Although bars that expect a lot of American tourists card hard, at most Cambridge pubs I never show ID, especially when I’m with a small number of people.  Pubs fill social purposes – they are local meeting places where the “regulars” are extended family for each other.  While European beer is far stronger than US beer, the primary goal is not to get drunk but to nurse a pint and enjoy the atmosphere and conversation.  As an American, it can be difficult to integrate and mix among local patrons, but I’ve found that if you wait until the locals have had a few drinks they stop caring that you are an American and will strike up a conversation with you (I was able to cross off one of my goals my first week here and convince a local that I was also British… and no he wasn’t that drunk!).

One of my favorite aspects of traveling around the country is having the opportunity to try the local brews.  Of course, some drinks like Guinness, Strongbow, and Carlsburg are staples at basically every location.  Cider is another beverage that is very popular in the UK, and many pubs serve more than one variety.  If you don’t want to have alcohol but still want to “fit in,” you can order a shandy.  This consists mostly of British lemonade, but has enough lager in it to look like a beer.

Of course, alcohol still causes its share of problems in the UK.  Adolescent drinking is a problem that cannot be ignored…newspaper headlines following holidays contain stories of drunken revelry complete with the evening’s strain on the National Health Service… and true Englishmen are notorious for loving to fight when drunk. But because of the otherwise relaxed attitude there isn’t as much of a taboo on openly discussing the subject and dealing with problems.

What do I notice most in England?  It’s just alcohol – no hypersensitivity or stigmas.  While I’m not saying the US is wrong for having a relatively high drinking age, I think that the European openness about alcohol is something that should be widely adopted in the States.

 

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Home Sweet Homestay

February 20, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Throughout this study program in South Africa and Namibia, I get to experience three homestays.  My first one was in Soweto, outside of Johannesburg, South Africa.  It was only for a weekend and my family was really boring, so was not that interesting of an experience.  My second homestay, however, was last week and it was one of the best weeks I have had since I have been in Namibia!

During this homestay, I lived with the Kadinda family in Katutura, a black township outside of Windhoek.  Though the parents had eight children and many grandchildren, I only lived in the house with the parents and their 16 and 18 year old daughters.  When I pulled up to the house, I was greeted with so many excited and smiling faces. Even though the house was small, the bathroom was outside, and the family didn’t have much, I really didn’t care.  Their joy for my arrival let me know that it was going to be a great week.

My House!

Our days were still spent at the house where we normally live because our classes are there as well. So, we would get dropped off in the morning and then picked up by our families after classes.  In my case, however, no one from my family could ever pick me up so I got very familiar with the taxi system.  I’ve become quite the pro – ready to take on NYC.  Anyway, every night when I came home my family would always cook a DELICIOUS meal for me.   Chicken, beef, noodles, rice, vegetables,  “pop,” everything! I was always served way before everyone else and so I never knew if I should start eating, but eventually I learned that they were always waiting for me to start eating before they got their food!

In the evenings, I would spend time talking to the family about their life, what they enjoy doing, how they like living in Namibia, their and it was really neat to get a broader picture then just what I would be experiencing in my week long stay there.  They were so open with me and loved talking to me about America as well.  However, also at night the daughters and I would have some dance sessions – probably my favorite part of the week. They were under the impression that white people can’t dance (don’t know where that comes from….).  But when we started dancing, they were quite impressed with my repertoire of moves and were awed that I actually could “shake it.”  I felt proud to represent my light skinned people.  Nonetheless, they laughed at me a lot attempting some of their crazy moves, but loved that I was trying.  It was so much fun and miss dancing with them!

My beautiful family!

My family was really religious and so the majority of our weekend was spent going to some type of church related function.  Friday night, I went with my two host sisters to their youth service.   It was at GTM (Gospel Tent Ministries) and it was basically a big party under a tent.  There was singing, dancing, rapping, clapping, and it was crazy! I was the only white person there so naturally I was called up to the front, had to introduce myself, and give a HALLELUJAH TO JESUS! Everyone cheered. It was one of most awkwardly wonderful things I’d ever felt in my life.

Then Sunday, my last day with the family, was basically spent entirely at church.  When they asked me if I wanted to go to church with them, I responded with an eager “yes!” However, I was assuming that church would be an hour, maybe two if I’m lucky.  Nope.  I got me four hours of Jesus.  It was, again, another big party, but it was so great to see how church was enjoyable to these people.  They love going because they get to sing and dance and rejoice.  The best part about going to church, however, was the fact that I got to wear a traditional Nama dress that my host mother made me.  All the ladies from her tribe wear them and I felt so special being apart of that group!

My host mom and I before church!

After living with my family for a week, I learned so much from them and was so thankful that they welcomed me as joyfully as they did.  It was such an enjoyable week for me and I will definitely never forget this experience. I cannot wait to stay with my next family when we travel to the North!

 

Rock on, Cambridge.

February 19, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Stonehenge: random rocks on a hillside, huge tourist attraction, and one of the highlights of my trip. I’ll leave you to decide whether this half destroyed landmark appealed to me as a result of early exposure to informative History Channel specials with no message apart from, “ALIENS ALIENS ALIENS!!!” or whether I had a more refined interest in the nomadic tribes which likely used the site for religious purposes.* Thankfully, it had snowed a few days before our trip and not all the snow had melted. This helped provide a nice frame to the countless** pictures I took while I lived out one of my childhood dreams.

Getting to Stonehenge is as simple as finding the parking lot and walking through a short tunnel. Anyone who can accomplish this is allowed to walk around the nicely roped perimeter, and there’s no limit to the amount*** of pictures anyone can take of these famous mossy slabs of rock. No one is allowed to touch the Stonehenge stones (probably for fear of cross contamination between alien and human DNA), but tourists can get pretty close.

It took reaching the gift shop for me to realize just how much Stonehenge meant to me. Ten postcards, two chocolate bars, two bookmarks, one coffee mug, one blanket, one shot glass, one paper weight, one magnet, and £90 later I boarded the C-89 tour bus and prepared myself for an hour nap on the way to Windsor Castle. That wasn’t really a big deal though. I mean, what do you think is cooler: rocks or an enormous doll-house complete with working plumbing and electricity?

*Here’s a hint: aside from the slightly disappointing lack of extra-terrestrial life forms, the trip was everything I expected.

**Actually, there were just twenty-five.

***Twenty-five is a good number. Just saying.

 
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Be a good sport.

February 16, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Experiencing another culture has given me a unique perspective on the world. Now, I feel better equipped to sift through what matters in life. I still can’t tell you the meaning of life, but I can tell you to go watch an English football game. If you don’t see the connection, you need to come to Cambridge and clear your head so you can see the obvious answer. Seeing as you’re unlikely to actually purchase a plane ticket and visit the centre, despite the fact you’d have the time of your life, I’ll just bring some head-clearing Cambridge antics to you.

Egypt! I took this picture at Norwich Castle Museum before heading to a football game. A fine example of Cambridge antics.

Cambridge has given me loads of time to relax. In so doing, Cambridge has given me more opportunities to learn more about both others and myself than a book could ever dream too (that is, assuming books can dream). Virtually all cultures make use of some form of recreation. But before I tell you about my visit to Norwich to watch the Canaries play the Wanderers, I want to break the word “recreation” into two pieces: re-creation. Woah. Here’s my theory: when one becomes totally immersed in play, the self tends to disappear, and when it returns, parts of it have been re-created. In light of this, I’m thinking of signing my blog posts with a different name each week.

 

Ferdinand Risola, your writer, enjoys playing this ancient game with his study abroad mates.

Why do we play? What’s the problem with never recreating ourselves and just becoming stagnant, boring people? You’ve surely heard the proverb, “all work and no play makes Jack a very dull boy.” Well, maybe Jack realized some great truth about himself and decided he’d rather become dull than risk moving on to something else. Take a second and think about that.

Here’s a picture I took on the streets of Cambridge shortly after it had rained outside. I thought the watermarks looked like a person. For purposes of illustration, pretend this is Jack.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Well, here’s what I think. Behind the force that drives humans to create ways to pass the time with one another lies a desire for community. Communities are ever-changing, so a person who tries to stay the same is going to run into trouble if he or she ever wants to fulfil the basic human need of spending time with people.

I like people, so I embrace the change play has to offer. That’s why I went to an English football game when I don’t even watch English football. That’s why I found myself cheering alongside other fans when the Canaries scored a goal (twice). That’s why I love being in Cambridge so much.

Click the above picture for a video for the chant Norwich county does when they score a goal.

 

 

 
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Leipzig at Night

Lessons From Leipzig

February 15, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Leipzig at NightGrowing up in the United States, the Cold War seemed like a faint memory that we only learn about in our history classes. Having to memorize all the political agreements, the unsaid tension between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R., it just seemed like one long stalemate. However, after visiting Leipzig I have realized that for the German people, the Cold War and the East verses the West was not just another chapter out of a history book. The city is famous for being the start of the protests against the Communist government. By just touring around and seeing the buildings that have been rebuilt within the last twenty years, as well as, the people who were witnesses and protesters during the peaceful revolution to unify their country, these events are very much alive today.

One of the most striking moments was visiting the Stasi Museum (Museum in der “Runden Ecke”). The building, itself, was the headquarters for the East German Secret Police (Stasi). Just walking into the building, you feel as if you are entering the Communist run building. Your eyes immediately focus on a banner hanging in the entrance stating, “This building will be secured on behalf of the Government and the Citizens Committee of the People’s Police” hangMail Steamering right next to a security camera. The museum takes you through the original offices while showing you all the equipment used to spy on their own people. From hidden cameras in briefcases, to phone tapping machines, and disguises, it is hard to believe these were still being used until the 1990’s.

The most moving exhibit for me, however, was an essay written by a ninth grader. He criticized the society and policies that he had to live under, even though he knew the consequences of writing this would be severe. According to the museum, the essay found itself in the hands of the police and they kept record of the boy until 1989 when German Communism fell. When I chose to study abroad, I figured that I would be able to connect my studies to my History major, more so than my Education major. However when reading about this student’s (translated) essay, I realized that this is a memory that I could pass on to my future students. I cannot only talk about the history surrounding the story, but also share the message that one person no matter how old, can speak out against what they believe is wrong and truly impact their future.

Memorial of the Peaceful Protest

 

 

 

 

 

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Parisian Weekend

February 12, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Paris!

We were finally able to cross “Paris” off of our unofficial must-travel list and it was almost everything we thought it would be! After a short flight of just over 2 hours, we were in Beauvais (RyanAir’s cheap “Paris” airport that is actually an hour north) and were on a bus to Paris. Since none of us know any French beyond “yes, no, hello, goodbye, and thank you,” it was immediately apparent this would be somewhat of a challenge since almost no one speaks any English or Spanish. Anyway, we finally found a taxi that knew where our hostel was since the first 2 didn’t have an idea.

The hostel was nice, very clean, the staff spoke English, French, and Spanish, and they offered several services for a cheap price. It was also a 30 minute walk to the Eiffel and less than 10 to a metro station. I would definitely stay there again and for reference if anyone is looking for a cheap place in Paris, it’s called “Aloha.” After we tossed our bags in the storage closet, we headed out for the Eiffel Tower!

Since the line to get elevator tickets was, literally, at least 500 people long, we waited 5 minutes and got the walking tickets. It was extremely cold that weekend and the walk must have taken us over an hour to get to the second level minus the time we spent walking around the first level. Since we couldn’t walk from the second level to the top, we bought elevator tickets which ended up costing the same as if we had bought them on the ground but we didn’t have to wait in the long line so it was a fair trade-off. The view from the top is spectacular!

We also went to the Trocadéro (seen in the foreground of the large photo) which is a popular spot to take pictures of the Eiffel. Later on day 2, we met up with my friend Charlotte and she showed us around the Arc de Triomphe and went to dinner at a Japanese restaurant. The third and final day was the busiest but the most fun by far! Early in the morning, we went out to see the Eiffel one more time and then went to the Louvre, Sainte-Chapelle, Notre Dame, and walked along the Seine for a bit. We thought about going to the catacombs but they were closed by the time we looked into it. We had a really productive day so I won’t miss it in the least.

Paris was almost everything we expected except for the cold and the prices. It was ridiculously cold even though I’m told it’s normally much colder with snow. The prices there are enough to make you not want to go back but it is possible to find a few moderately cheap places if you look. Bakeries tend to be fairly cheap and you can buy a whole baguette for just a euro. Chinese restaurants are also reasonably priced but don’t expect to find many cheap French restaurants.

If you’d like to see all the photos I took in Paris (about 200) check out my Picasa page (http://bit.ly/y5AyqU). You can also follow me on Twitter for more day-to-day posts (https://twitter.com/#!/SpainJordan). I also have trips planned to Portugal, England, and Switzerland/Germany in the coming months in addition to my normal Spain postings so look out for those!

 

 

In the Beginning was the Word

February 10, 2012 / / 0 Comments

Last Wednesday evening I had the opportunity to go to a poetry reading at the Playhouse Theater in downtown Windhoek.  The theme for the night was “In the Beginning there was the Word, ” and it was such a neat experience.  I, being the emotional, expressive, free-spirited, dramatic person that I am, naturally enjoy doing things like that on a daily basis and knew that I could not miss this opportunity…NOT.  But I figured that hey, I’m in Africa; why not expand my cultural horizons even more?  One of the other girls volunteering at my internship was doing a piece and she invited me so I at least wanted to go support her.

I trudged over to the theater with my friend Cara not really wanting to be there, but by golly, by the end of it I was so happy that I went and it really got me thinking about some things.  When we got there the venue had all these neat lights and the place was packed.  There were probably 30 poets that stood up in front and performed their work.  Some were funny, while many were passionate, emotional stories.  Because the theme was “In the Beginning There was the Word” many of the pieces had to deal with birth, life, and the power of our words in everyday life for building others up or tearing others down, loving others or hating them.  All the poets did an amazing job and they really made me stop and think about how I use my words and how the people around me use words.

So often I am quick to judge people, insult people, or make ignorant comments, not even thinking about what I am saying.  My words are often full of egotistic comments and selfish wants and I rarely even realize it.  However, going to this poetry reading and being in Namibia in general has really made me see how I should be using my words.  Everyone here has been so loving and gracious to me.  The people here are so much more kind, so much more interested in who you are and what you have to say.  They are not in a rush all the time and they don’t snap at you.  It has really made me realize the harshness in my what I say and how I should instead strive to fill my words with kindness and patience and love.

I’ve especially noticed this as I am living with my homestay family this week.  The first time I met them they greeted me with such joy and excitement and they have constantly been full of kind, encouraging words.  Everyday they have told me how beautiful I am and they even gave me a new name that means “gift of God” in their native Damara language.  They always ask how my day is and if there is anything they can do to make me feel at home.  They always speak with such gentle, genuine words and it encourages me to do the same.

Having the Bible knowledge that I do, the first thing that came to my mind when I heard the theme for this poetry reading was obviously John 1:1. And how that although in this night’s context “word” is being used literally, we can tie it all back to Christ as well.  The whole night I kept thinking that in the beginning was the Word, Christ.  He came down to die for us so that we might live and use OUR words to glorify him.  His words were perfect.  They were gentle and full of compassion.  Ours are not.   But thanks be to God that the Word did become flesh and gave us new life and a chance to change our words and our hearts and use them for good – to love others and glorify Him.

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Loch Ness Sunset

Loch Ness & Learning to Travel

February 8, 2012 / / 1 Comment

Loch Ness Boat Ride

Destination of my first student-organized trip:  Inverness, Scotland and nearby Loch Ness.  After a nine hour train ride 8 of us arrived in the thoroughly Scottish city on the mouth of the River Ness by the North Sea.  By the time we arrived it was time for dinner (haggis!) and a visit to a few local pubs before Saturday, our only full day in the area.

Early Saturday morning I set out with a friend and the goal of finding the nearby Culloden Battlefield.  I hadn’t really done any research on ‘how’ to get there; all I knew was that it was too far from the city to walk to.  I started by asking the student hostel staff how most tourists get to the battlefield.  They told me City Bus 5 was the one I wanted, and they said it departed from the Inverness city center. I borrowed a bus schedule from the hostel too, and sure enough Bus 5’s route had “Culloden” marked on it.  I boarded Bus 5 and watched the city roll away as we headed into the countryside. However, judging by the one road sign I saw for Culloden Battlefield, Bus 5 was not the correct route. So, after a conversation with a very friendly driver I was instructed to get off, board Bus 2, and then get on Bus 3 which would take me where I wanted to go. Sure enough, I was able to follow these directions with a little help from the driver of Bus 2. However, in the instructions nothing was included about which direction to take Bus 3 in. I took a guess and loaded the next Bus 3 that came through.

Culloden Forest

Unfortunately, it was headed back to the city. This driver wasn’t as friendly, so at the end of the route I hopped off, walked back to the city center, and caught the next Bus 3. Once again, it bypassed the turn I needed. Even worse, the rest of the route was rolling through hills, towns, and along the coasts of the sea in such a twisted route I couldn’t tell how close I was to the battlefield. So, as the bus turned towards the city again I decided to get off and just walk around the area.

Although I never made it to my goal, I walked through the beautiful Culloden Forest, a place I would have never seen if my day went according to plan.  I was on top of hills overlooking the North Sea and the city, so I had great views of the surrounding glen.  Also, when time began to run short and I needed to get back to the city I walked through picturesque residential streets that I would not have seen otherwise. I continued until I found a bus stop heading back into Inverness. This stop was fairly close to the sign post directing tourists to the battlefield. At that point I was probably as close to my original destination as I ever was… and I was still 4 miles away!

Overlooking Glen Mhor

Upon getting back into the city, I went to the bus station to pick up our ride for the Loss Ness tour. However, I went a little early to find which bus I should have taken that morning.  As it turns out, Culloden is actually a nearby town, so numerous buses stop there. The answer: Bus 3 was correct, but only at specific times during the day. I hadn’t been able to board one of the few buses in that direction, and there were none left that I could take before going back to Cambridge.

Although I’m not likely to go as far north as Inverness again, and will likely not have a chance to see Culloden Battlefield, my unplanned adventure was still the highlight of the trip.  I had a chance to see things I never would have had a chance to see otherwise.  Also, I learned a lot about how to plan for trips.  In the States, I can afford to be impulsive because I have a car, and therefore I can transport myself anywhere so long as my navigation skills and patience hold out. However, when relying on public transportation planning ahead is very important.  The tour bus/boat trip we took to Loch Ness (unfortunately, no monster) and Urquhart Castle was very touristy, but having someone else plan everything for us was the best way to see the attractions.  At the same time, allowing for spontaneity is the best way to create great experiences and memories to take with you.

Loch Ness Sunset

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Union Jack and Loch Ness

Where am I again?

February 2, 2012 / / 0 Comments

War Memorial in Inverness, Scotland

I have noticed one of the most stereotypically American mistakes to make is to think of England, Britain, and the United Kingdom as synonyms.  In the States, we tend to think of ourselves as more “United” than otherwise.  However, over here this isn’t necessarily the case.

Not long ago I was in Inverness, Scotland, which is very near to Culloden Battlefield.  It was at this location that the Jacobite Rebellion was crushed in 1746.  Following this date, the British government incorporated all of Scotland into Great Britain.  Although this battle was fought not long before the American Revolutionary War, in Scotland this battle is still discussed as if it happened just out of living memory.  This is hardly how the American Revolution is discussed in the United States.

Support for this topic of independence is far from limited to a few individuals.  Very recently the subject of Scotland breaking away and becoming an independent country has become a major issue.  Nor is this way of thinking present in only Scotland.  On Thursday, February 2nd the insert cover of The Guardian read, “Could Wales be next?”  Granted, most polling data shows the majority of residents in Scotland and Wales would prefer to remain part of the United Kingdom.  However, the topic of independence is certainly far from dead.

Map of the British Isles

To avoid confusion throughout the rest of my blogs, I thought it might be helpful to describe what some of the terms are referring to:

Britain – the name of the largest island

England – the southeast part of Britain (red)

Great Britain – the political union of England, Scotland, and Wales (red, orange, and blue)

The United Kingdom – includes Northern Ireland with Great Britain (red, orange, blue, and yellow)

British Isles – geographical (not political) name that includes independent Republic of Ireland

British Commonwealth – loose association of possessions and former colonies including Canada, Australia, and India that have a symbolic loyalty to the Crown

Union Jack and Loch Ness

 

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Sushi Similies – How Japanese food taught me about Cambridge, England

February 1, 2012 / / 0 Comments

            I’m currently sitting in the Anglia Ruskin library. The library personnel, unfortunately, don’t allow eating here. If the brown paper bag beside me contained chips*, I would be secretly snacking away instead of informing the world about the mind-bendingly draconian food policies at this university**. If that sounds harsh, please believe that if you had a brown paper bag containing some of the finest scrumptious slabs of seafood which sail on sticky simple sugars you too would complain.

 Click this picture to check out the restaurant responsible for the “Jo Platter.” Delicious.

Eating with chopsticks is loads of fun. I have yet to find a culinary experience that satisfies like delicately placing ginger on bite-size, sea-derived delicacies and topping it off with a bit of wasabi. The process requires an attention to detail that transforms satisfying a basic human need into an act of meditation. Preparing sushi works in the same way. I’m almost certain the chef who prepared my sushi ascended to nirvana shortly after serving my food. After putting such massive attention into pieces of food that take only a matter of seconds to eat, I don’t see how this could not be the case. I only hope that his experience of bliss is not reliant on my finishing the food in a short period of time. Because when I leave this library and eat his sushi, I’m going to take my time and savour every bite.

My experience with sushi is very similar to my experience abroad. While I wish I were able to live in a constant state of enjoying the delicacies in the city around me***, there are times when I would be better off just staying at the centre. Watching a movie, playing a game or just fast-forwarding through those two and getting straight to talking is the wasabi that completes the Cambridge cultural sushi.

 This is a ping pong ball run, and also wasabi.

Here’s a video.

 *To all my British readers, I mean potato chips, which you call crisps. I don’t mean French fries, which you call chips.

**Anglia Ruskin is great. I’ve been here one week, had only one class and I’ve already been invited to a house party. I just hope I can finish my food before Becca, one of my British friends, comes to get me. Who brings food to a party?

*** Delicacies here refers to the million different ways the British can tie their scarves. I have no idea how some of these multi-layered, face-cradling, wool knots are even possible. The only conclusion is that, upon birth, in addition to a birth certificate, each British person receives a custom made scarf complete with its own certificate of authenticity.

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