Archive for January, 2010
Payam is a small but exuberant 18-year-old girl who knows where to buy anything at the Sule bazaar and will haggle with taxi drivers until they agree to her price.
Next-door at McDonald’s, parents ordered their children Happy Meals while sitting next to signs that read “Happy Ramadan.”
The potential of a divided America has my undivided attention.
The hotels were actually cute huts playing dress-up in slightly fancier costumes…
Today I’m going to college and they’re going to college, but while I’m worried about finding a post-graduation job, they’re worried about saving their country and their culture.
The National is always changing; it reminds me of my 8th grade U.S. history class when I learned that the Constitution of America is a “living document,” because it is always changing and growing.
Before this evening, I thought there were two universal rules: 1. you don’t talk about Fight Club and 2. you don’t giggle at a metal concert.
Each day for the past three weeks I have attempted to sit down and update this blog with retrospective reflections of my trip, but each day, I sit before a blank computer screen, unable to capture my experience in words.
My silent paranoid skepticism has evolved into a deafening, seething, paranoid rage.
Then, I write. All of a sudden, something that comes so naturally to me has become a point of conflict- I don’t know what language to write in.
I am dedicating this post to the food in France, whose government subsidizes wine and cheese because it deems them necesary for its people.
Even the campus’s remarkable architecture, with dozens of fountains, date palms and sandstone walls, couldn’t hide the distinctly Cairene chaos still ruling in the background.
Surely I should be experiencing more of a culture shock than this, considering Santiago is a further distance from Chicago than Moscow is.
For a 6′3” student, the hallways of the University of Buenos Aires feel like an obstacle course. I have to duck under several banners, and leaving the building after the first day of class, I knocked over a sizable poster.
The theme that was brought to the table was mascotas, pets that Abuela had owned, taken care of, or apparently, killed throughout her lifetime. This is what I caught:
Words you would expect to see in a war zone, not at a university.
Copenhagen is one of the world’s most bike friendly cities; I’m one of the world’s least bike friendly people.
The man sitting next to me on the bus pointed to the notes on I held in my lap and asked, “What are ya studyin’ thar, loov?” And for the next hour and a half, John was my tour guide.
Traffic in India is organized chaos, so when you commit to crossing the street, you must commit to being a part of the pandemonium.
I’m pretty sure if I could craft my perfect day, it would involve wine, food, Germans in costume playing percussion, and castles, so I was pretty much the happiest girl in the world.
The above video is a decent summary of my first few days in Sevilla– frenetic and rough around the edges.
Three years ago I started teaching myself Korean. Now I rarely listen to American pop music anymore. I listen to Korean pop. I watch Korean dramas, and follow Korean pop culture.
Well blow me! He sure has a lot of bottle for lying to the bobby when he cocked up!
A quick and dirty inventory of things that don’t seem to exist in Spain. Some of these are more missed than others.
In a week, my possessions will be limited to a 50-pound piece of luggage and a carry-on. This is trouble.
The portrait that, in my opinion, is much more stunning cannot be found on the internet or in travel guides.
This fall, I’ll be diving into the treasure hunt of a lifetime: an internship in the Louvre’s paintings department.
We Americans are constantly reminded of the ever-growing forces of globalization, yet we tend to be oblivious to the way our nation’s actions ripple across the entire fabric of global society.
I feel like I am at the end of my trip, about to go home, but I haven’t even started my program yet.
This fall I will be attending Trinity College in Dublin, Ireland, a city where economic hardship has just recently risen to the surface
In the French city Caen, we visited a World War II museum and then spent the day exploring the D-Day beaches and the American and German WWII cemeteries.
No one knows where I’m from, and I sure don’t know where I’m going.
I currently study Arabic, Spanish, and French and refuse to call it quits with those three.
I am still struggling to understand what exactly is so sexy about my loose, sweat-drenched clothes, frizzy hair and comfort walking shoes
I want to invite my readers inside my cranium and hopefully offer other people a gift I always love to receive: The anecdotes that add color to the otherwise black-and-white reality of bare facts.
While Madagascar is known for its unique flora and fauna, I hope to learn about Malagasy government and the way law and politics affect people.
“You know that feeling of horror you had when you were a kid and realized that the awesome slide at the water park was actually terrifying?
When I arrive in Italy for the start of what will be a little more than three months study there, you will probably find me facedown in gelato. Hopefully.
