Posts Tagged ‘Northwestern’
• Denmark
Confession: this is approximately the fifth document that I have started drafting as my “first blog post.” If you are wondering why I am starting so late, it’s not because I have not had anything exciting to write about. On the contrary, the past week that I have spent in Copenhagen (and it has been a week exactly now!), has been one of the busiest in my life. It is also not because I haven’t tried, or don’t care about blogging—paragraph after paragraph, I’ve been trying to find the perfect theme to write the perfect blog post. But finally I have decided that much like study abroad, it would be better just to dive right in instead of planning excessively.
Few Americans can tell you a lot about Denmark, and before I decided to study abroad here, I was in the same boat. After some research, I came to the conclusion that Denmark is an absolutely fascinating place. Being here now has just reaffirmed this fascination. Although there is a lot I didn’t know about, I did come with certain expectations, and this first week has been full of new impressions that have surprised me in many ways. Let me share some of the ideas I had, and whether they turned out to be right:
Denmark is cold, but not as cold as Chicago. For the past few months, whenever anyone found out that I would be going to Copenhagen, the usual response was something along the lines of, “Wow, isn’t it like freezing there?!” I never really understood why it was such a big deal—after going to school in Evanston for two years, I thought a Copenhagen winter would be nothing! Well, as it turns out, although it is more temperate here and much less windy, it is still cold! My face still feels like it’s going to fall off, but it could also be because I am spending a lot more time outdoors as I explore the city.
Study abroad is a huge change, and it would hit me, hard. Going to a new country for four months to live and study is indeed a big change that you don’t just get used to overnight. So when I arrived and I didn’t experience any overwhelming emotions or culture shock, I felt like something wasn’t right. I kept waiting for “it” to happen, some sort of “Aha!” moment, or big realization that changes everything, or anything to acknowledge the fact that I had arrived in this brand new place with only a vague idea of what I wanted to do here. I guess I can partly attribute my calm acceptance to the fact that I have traveled a lot throughout my life. Still, I know this will be an exciting semester with new experiences that will hopefully be life-changing.
Danes are reserved and might seem cold to foreigners. As far as I can tell, this is not true. Because of this stereotype, I was pretty intimidated to be around Danes at first, but every Dane that I have met so far has been so friendly and willing to help me out if I’m lost or asking for directions. Anne, a Danish friend of my sister’s, says that in parts of Denmark outside of Copenhagen, people are not always as open. But after experiencing the energy of a bar full of Danes boisterously cheering on their handball team (who knew that was a thing?) as they won against Spain in the semi-finals, I no longer buy into the whole quiet-and-reserved Danish stereotype.
Everyone is blonde, beautiful, and six feet tall. Oh, and always stylish. This is both true and not true. Yes, there are gorgeous people everywhere, and some of them happen to fit the description as I had been forewarned. However, like cities much larger, Copenhagen is extremely diverse and much more so than I had expected. In the past decade, increased immigration has resulted in changing demographics, which has also led to some political tension (more on this later, I’m sure). As for being stylish, I do admire the Danes’ fashion sense—I am taking a class on “The Meaning of Style” so hopefully I will pick up a thing or two. What I wonder most is how they manage to stay warm while looking so good—it is a welcome change from the winter “fashion” at Northwestern, but I have seen one too many Danish women wearing the thinnest of tights, and sometimes I just want to direct them to the nearest North Face store. Is there something I’m missing??
Anyways, the list goes on and on, but it’s time do some reading before my classes tomorrow. (Some things remain the same…) Here’s to the next four months, hoping it will be full of moments and memories that will meet, exceed, or perhaps completely throw off my expectations.
Anne Ciccarelli is a junior at Northwestern University with a major in Asian Languages and Civilizations and minors in Linguistics and Asian-American Studies. She is from Palo Alto, California, and does not like Chicago winters. However, she gets through them by participating in the Northwestern University Marching Band, Chi Omega, and Dance Marathon in addition to spending quality time cramming for midterms. She has never been to China, but has been to Japan and Canada, and all over the United States. While in Beijing, she hopes to become more fluent in Chinese and impress her friends with insider knowledge of Chinese culture, politics, and food.
To understand where I’m going over the next five months, it’s probably best you know where I’ve been the past nineteen years.
I’m from Small Town, U.S.A. I was raised on a healthy balance of country music and playing outdoors. The produce in my house comes from my friends’ farms, and I pop my popcorn on the cob (I swear, it’s possible!). I love playing sports, just beware I’m a little competitive. I root for the underdogs and never leave before the game is over (my hometown teams are the Buffalo Sabres and the Buffalo Bills). I’m a magnet for socially awkward situations, but that’s why my friends love me. I always have a funny story to share, and I’m not shy about divulging the details.
Why Madrid? Why now?
I’ve traveled to other countries but never stayed long enough to immerse myself in another culture. At Northwestern, I’m a Spanish and Political Science major who has developed a fascination with national security and immigration issues. In Madrid, I’ll study at the Autónoma with Spanish students and professors and live with a Spanish woman named Leticia. It will be one of the best experiences of my life, and I hope you’ll come along for the ride! It’s sure to be full of accidental humor and purposeful fun! In the words of Herb Brooks, “Great moments…are born from great opportunities…This is your time. Now go out there and take it.”
My name’s Maeve Wall. I’m a junior English major and a Brady Scholar in Ethics and Civic Life. I love adventures, social justice, working with kids, Mac Miller, and hipsters, preferably with moustaches. I’m involved with Wildcat Welcome, Alternative Student Breaks, and The Daily Northwestern here at school. I’m also Vice President of Recruitment of my sorority and am jet-setting from Bid Night, after selecting our new members, to the city of lights, where Sorority Recruitment will just seem a distant dream (or nightmare).
I consider my upcoming trip this winter and spring to be the journey of a lifetime. I’ve never been to Europe, don’t know who I’m living with, and I still don’t have my Visa. This will be my second time out of the country and my first time (since college) that I’ve lived away from my family in a new place.
I’ve heard that when you study abroad, it all works out- that the situation is “sink or swim.” Whether due to awkward language miscommunications or lost escapades with the directionally challenged (me), I am prepared to flounder a lot during the process. However, by the end, I hope to come out performing a confident, determined breast stroke.
Join me as I tread water (and avoid drowning) this winter and spring and learn about myself along the way!
In all my previous posts, I’ve somehow neglected to mention one of the most exciting new developments in my Argentine experience—an internship! For the last couple weeks, I’ve been working at the offices of www.whatsupbuenosaires.com, a bilingual site dedicated to Buenos Aires’ arts and culture scene. In addition to providing agendas and event guides, What’s Up Buenos Aires, or WUBA, offers feature stories and interviews with some of Argentina’s most interesting artists and musicians. I was hired to help write and edit content for the site, and it’s exactly the kind of internship I was hoping to score when I arrived.
I’d like to think that my past journalism experience and boundless personal charm (ha!) were the only forces at work when I was offered the position, but, for the sake of full disclosure, I should admit that one of the people who hired me, Allie, attended Northwestern as an undergraduate and was more than happy to reminisce when she noticed the name on my résumé. I didn’t know about her Evanston connection until my interview, but it’s a discovery that reminds me that I’ve been lucky enough to have the kind of educational opportunities that could take me anywhere in the world. Allie graduated from Northwestern only two years ago, and she’s already made a new life for herself on a different continent.
All the other members of WUBA’s main editorial staff are equally young—and impossibly hip—Americans. In fact, the site’s 32-year-old director is the only one who has even celebrated a 30th birthday. While office banter sometimes makes me feel like I should be scouring obscure music blogs all day, I think it’s a good fit for me and I love being able to apply the online media skills (sorry for the Medill buzz words) that I’ve been trying to pick up since I was a clueless freshman.
Moreover, the WUBA team has proven to me the importance of immersion in developing language proficiency. The staff members I work with the most, Allie and Kevin, said they were far from fluent when they first moved to Buenos Aires, but they speak Spanish so naturally now that they are often mistaken for native South Americans. Even in their conversations with other English speakers, they seamlessly blend in Spanish phrases and it’s hard to imagine that Allie moved here eight months ago with “average study-abroad-student Spanish.” While I’m not quite ready to cut the ties, jump the tracks and move to Latin America, I’m hoping my time here will provide some noticeable linguistic benefits. Then maybe I can follow in the footsteps of other young Northwestern graduates and abandon the homeland.
With a week left in Cuba I find myself becoming very reflective. The memories that stick out in my mind are mainly about the people I’ve met. Yesterday we returned to visit the babalawo we had met with the first week. He talked about his practice as a bishop, or healer in the African-influenced Cuban religion called Santeria. The principal philosophies of Santeria are about being in harmony with the bioenergetic systems around you and thinking of individuals in the context of their place in interconnected webs rather than as independent beings floating. Output, input, and balance are important concepts. But he acknowledges the purpose of Western medicine. He said that we have to learn from other cultures and we should be more open to sharing cross-culturally in our world. That understanding will result in more peace and less war. He said that cultures tend to be too closed off from one another, exclusive. When talking about treatment and healing he emphasized that treatment can often have both healing and hurting powers, depending on the person and the circumstances. He referenced the concept of contraindication in Western medicine as an example of this. (A condition or factor that serves as a reason to withhold a certain medical treatment)
One thing I’ve learned from my Cuban experience is to always ask questions.
The poet we met, Juan Carlos, said that questions are always better than answers. He said that poetry is an exchange between two forces that depend on one another, like the poet and the reader or the listener for example. For Juan Carlos, to exist is to breathe in and out every moment and that exchange of air is also poetry. He discussed his poetic inspiration and interests with us before reading his poems. He is very interested in the theme of marginalized groups such as the mentally ill. He wants to give voice to the people who are silenced by society’s fear or rejection of them. Like trash pickers or beggars. But he says that we can learn a lot from them too, if we take the time to. Beggars, the poor, and the sick are part of the balance in the system of our universe. He was once a psychiatric patient and learned a lot from the other patients in the hospital. He said when he was in the hospital he was put on heavy medication and he could not write poetry.
I think about the Cuban youth underground culture. And all the people my age who are itching to get out of their country. One friend told me it didn’t matter where he went; he just wants to get out. I ask him about the sidewalks that are broken and crumbling all over. He says the politicians don’t have to walk on them, so why would they change it. I’ve learned the Cuban saying that the sun is so hot that is breaks the sidewalks. I think about all the young patinadores (skateboarders) who have basically taught themselves with little resources or instruction. All the falls they’ve taken in their skate videos don’t stop them from getting back up again.
All the people I’ve met are very well versed in North American (I don’t mean American) culture. Because Cubans are American people too. They live in Central America. Some of the Cubans are even more versed in North American culture than I am. They have seen the classic films and follow the music culture closely. The musician we met talked about how rock and roll can still serve as a threat to mainstream culture (mostly in political terms)—it shakes people up. But no one notices anymore when a North American comes out with a song with “oppositional” lyrics. He was one of the first musicians to produce and distribute music from the underground to the general public that flirts with real political issues. In Havana, most people know of him and his songs yet his music has never once been played on the radio or on TV. There is a cultural body that attempts to moderate music production but it doesn’t stop him from making his and getting it out. They canceled his concert once, so instead he wrote a song making fun of them! His music is all distributed from friend to friend or neighbor in CD form, again another example of the underground culture.
Social connections are maintained and strengthened by processes like this. With rose-colored glasses, it looks a lot like social solidarity. But I’m not sure how I feel about that term because I know these strong connections are just part of survival in the system. Cubans are amazingly skilled at getting around an oppressive system in order to create a strong culture of sharing, expressing, and simply living…
Whether we may call it solidarity or survival, it is the Cuban way.
When I tell my friends or family members that I am studying abroad in Ghana I receive one of two responses: “Cool!” or my favorite, “Why?!” And to be honest, I often wonder the same thing. I grew up in a small Illinois town that hugs the Mississippi River. Our claim to fame is that we are the world headquarters of John Deere & Company. Whenever a friend visits me from out of town the first thing we do is go to the John Deere Pavilion to climb on the tractor models and push all of the buttons.
While I have lived in this town all my life, my passion to discover the outside world started when I was just a kid. I would sneak into my older brother’s room and stare at his globe, examining the different countries with funny-named capitals. I would spin the globe as fast as I could, close my eyes, and put my finger down to stop the whirling sphere. Wherever my chubby finger landed was where I was going to live when I grew up. I did that everyday, fascinated at just how many places there were in this world.
I never thought about traveling to Africa until I came to Northwestern. My eyes were opened to unthinkable opportunities and amazing upperclassman that I admired. Every person I looked up to studied abroad, their most popular destination: Africa.
In my first two years at NU, my passion for international travel and development has grown to an obsession. I jump at any opportunity to travel and eagerly await my plane ride to Legon. I hope to integrate my vivid interest in history, religion, community development, and interesting food into this new life experience.
If you had told me the first day of my freshman year that I would be going to Ghana, I would have given you one my signature “what the hell?” looks. I have no real idea what I am getting into, but that makes it even more exciting. I am open to all that is ahead of me and cannot wait to get started.
Sorry I haven’t posted sooner. It has been pretty overwhelming so far, and I really admire everyone who has ever studied abroad right now because from your Facebook pictures and blog posts, it looks like you had a great time and adjusted really well. I hope I am one of you soon because right now this is still scary. I just want to be completely, 100 percent honest about how I’m feeling. But before you stop reading I promise there have been some “ups”! (Or for any fellow Kardashian enthusiasts, there have been many “peaks” to compensate for the “pits.”)
Since I wasn’t good about posting sooner, here’s what you missed.
I wrote a little something on the Chicago leg of my trip from Indianapolis to Buenos Aires, but did not have the wifi to post it. Here’s how I felt in the Windy City two days ago:
Right now I’m sitting in O’Hare, waiting to leave for my flight to Miami (and then Buenos Aires).
I’m trying to decide what I’m feeling. There is a clearly newlywed couple engaging in serious PDA in the seats directly in front of me in our terminal, so mostly I’m trying to decide if it’s nice or I want to vomit. Either way, I’m trying unsuccessfully not to stare at them.
What I can say is that when my flight from Indianapolis to Chicago neared the North Shore, and it was visible from my window, the word “home” popped into my head. But I think that has more to do with my feelings about Northwestern than about studying abroad.
Over the past week, I wrapped up my summer internship and made several trips to stores with my mom to get last-minute items. One of those things was a gift for my host mom, who I recently found out is a retired astrologist with a young adult daughter. I’m really excited to meet her. She used a lot of exclamation points in her emails, so I think she’s excited to meet me too.
We bought my host mom some nice towels, a bar of soap and a candle. I think that might be too much, but I read in an online travel forum that those are good Argentine host mom gifts.
It was sad to say goodbye to my siblings. I hugged my Dad and the three still living at home this morning (and our dog, who returned it by licking my face), and then my mom drove me to the airport.
So far everything has gone off without a hitch. I keep thinking I’ll look down and realize I lost my passport or something, but so far so good. I’m looking forward to meeting up with my friend Emily to fly from Miami to Argentina in just a few hours.
From there, I flew to Miami. Then I navigated the hard-to-navigate Miami airport. While I was there, I felt as if the universe were transitioning me to Buenos Aires because people there spoke exclusively to me in Spanish. I get that sometimes in Chicago too, probably because my name is Maria and I look like I could possibly be Latina. But I was really resenting it at the time because I wanted to savor American culture for a while.
Then I went on a group flight to Buenos Aires. Before the flight I wasn’t feeling super social, but I met a few people who are in my program and had a very excited and happy reunion with Emily.
But the flight was long and dark, and I was really mad at myself when I couldn’t understand what the flight attendant said (in Spanish) were our choices for on-flight dinner. Nine hours later, we were there, we went through customs, I paid someone about $150 because I had to, went to get my luggage but they lost a bag, and then I called my mom from my internationally-activated Blackberry and cried a little.
Then I was kind of surprised because the directors of our program met us at the airport, and then sent us immediately individually in cabs to our host families’ homes. My cab driver was extremely nice and calming, and we had a 30-minute conversation in Spanish.
I am living in the Caballito neighborhood of Buenos Aires, which is centrally located. I am thrilled with the apartment I’m living in and my host mom, who is so welcoming. My room here has a balcony and looks over the city, and we live above una heladeria, an ice cream store.
There is so, so much more to say about my trip so far and this city. To list a few quick “peaks,” today I got my luggage, a cab driver drove me on the avenida 9 de julio (la calle más ancha del mundo, the widest street in the world), our program directors are fantastic and orientation is going well so far, I now have pesos in my wallet instead of dollars and my host mom and her family friend who is also living here said my Spanish is great. They also had never heard of Casey Anthony (really not sure why I told them that story), and think Osama bin Laden’s death is a lie spread by our government.
Buenos Aires is busy. It’s huge and gritty, there’s a lot of graffiti and I’m confused by el colectivo, the bus, because they don’t have names of stops and the driver never says anything out loud. This city isn’t Chicago-big; it’s New York-big, if New York were just one huge sprawling SoHo. That’s my best description right now.
So much has happened that I really don’t know how to appropriately blog about it in one shot, so I’ll try to contribute more tomorrow or the next day if I have time. Right now I just really miss my family and friends, and making s’mores with my mom and brothers on our patio.
I’ll let you know how tomorrow goes…I have to take el colectivo by myself.
OH. ALSO. Remember last post when I hoped my host family didn’t have a cat? They did a week ago. It died. I wish that were a joke.
It’s not that I hated where I worked. It’s just that it took me two summers of burning French onion soup, dealing with people like Mr. Your-Manager-Can-Override-Anything-In-The-Computers-And-Allow-Me-To-Sub-A-Side-Salad, self-medicating on Mike & Ikes after a long night shift, dropping a few trays of beverages, forgetting to plug orders into the computer, and shivering in my futile freezer search for the lemonade (that always ran out on the most inopportune times) to finally realize that I’m really no more cut out for waitressing than I am for running 26 miles…in the desert…without water. This is partly why I wanted to do something different this summer.
I’m a purebred Midwesterner from Thiensville, Wisconsin. I have a burly jacket for frigid winters, enjoy flannel, and love, love, LOVE Lake Michigan and Chicago. However, this summer I will be living in Cochabamba, Bolivia as part of Northwestern’s GESI program. I look forward to gaining a broader, and more global perspective on different social issues, which I hope to help with my Social Policy major. I really have no experience blogging (Ok, I may have dabbled a bit in the blogosphere earlier this year. My sole viewer? My grandma.) So no guarantees on quality. But, I can tell you this much, I’ll probably be doing something a little cooler than slopping tartar sauce into hundreds of small plastic cups at nine in the morning.
Great article!
