“Vienna waits for you”….but the train does not.

Posted on August 11, 2012 by pricemv

It was decided. Tuesday (our last day off) Gabi and I would go to Vienna. This was fitting considering I had just visited Mozart’s birthplace and his next stop was Vienna too. We knew there were two other dancers there but they had left the previous day and we had no idea what their plans were or a way to contact them, so we made our own Itinerary. It was a wonderful train ride and bonding time through the Austrian countryside over coffee in the morning sun.

On the train

Another Water Closet Story:
At one point, we decided to test out the train’s water closet. Gabi disappeared for a moment and then returned, claiming the automatic door, was not so automatic. I investigated and got through just fine. However, once on the other side, I could not open the door to the bathroom. Feeling incompetent, I returned to share that I too was unsuccessful. We stealthily watched and learned as others managed to get through the doors with no problem. One man had an odd gesture near his head when he walked up. It was determined that one must discretely scratch their head and act casual as the secret admission trick. Once through the doors there were only minor struggles such as remaining balanced as the train shook, finding the toilet paper…and flush….and soap. All in all, we came out of the experience much more aware and feeling that next time the process will go smoothly so we will be less judged by onlookers.

Gabi and I enjoyed our day touring.

We visited the breathtaking St. Stephen’s Cathedral.
This is the crowded inside.

I was too close to get a good shot of the whole thing in one frame but this is an idea of the front.

The current display at the national library – about posters over the decades to encourage tourism in Austria. Gabi decided she wants to have a room in her future house that is a library and have one of the awesome shelf ladders. I agree its a good idea.

A tour of the Opera House! Fun fact: the emperor has his own tea room (pictured) that cost thousands to rent for one intermission.

Not the best picture from the Opera House tour but I loved this room.The marble floor in this foyer came from Salzburg! And the walls had the neatest decoration.

After this tour we set off in search of the famous violet gelato. We walked through the grounds around the Imperial Apartments just chatting and gaping when I saw a familiar face. WHAT are the chances?! I understand running into other dancers in little Salzburg…but Vienna?! We could not believe it. Even weirder, we found out that it was an accident that either of us had gone down this street, must be serendipity! To our further astonishment, all four of us had plans to go to the same cathedral, next on the agenda after a snack! Happily we continued until we found our delicious purple ice-cream and rested in the grass as we ate.

The four of us with our famous violet gelato that we finally found….along with finding each other!

Next stop, together now;

Outside of St. Charle’s Church in the evening. The two figures are Helena and Syvana (the dancers we ran into)

The bummer was that we had just barely missed closing and could not take the rickety lift to the top to enjoy the view. So it became dinner time instead. Being the difficult, picky eater I am, I caused a lull in our flow as we debated where to dine. An Asian food restaurant in Nasch Market was the winner….a 3 to 1 vote. My patient friends assisted me in ordering something I would like and graciously shared their meals too (and by that I mean pressured me into tasting suspicious entrees).

It was time to go. We had classes starting early the next morning and it was already getting late. Our anxious faces rushed the waitress but we paid and speed walked to the catch the “U” (subway) to the train station. At the platform we realized our train left in10 minutes… the U didn’t come for another 6. This time our vote was consensus. We wouldn’t make it and now had another hour to spare in Vienna and would be arriving back in Salzburg around 2am. Oh well. These are the things you just have to accept with a shrug and a smile because there really isn’t anything else to do about it!
What an exciting, day. Travel books are right, you have to be flexible and just go with the flow. By the way, we learned that the phrases “Playing it by ear” and “Flying by the seat of our pants” are not ones that translate very well.

A random and unrelated comment, I really appreciate student-prices. It’s a good deal! I got into a live Mozart concert in a cathedral for only 10 Euros! So many places offer a discount and it always cheers me up!

Ghost update:
Haven’t heard the footsteps recently (I think I’ve been too tired to wake up). However when we returned to our room after Vienna, expected a new roommate to have arrived, no one was here. This was good news because then we could turn the light on and not have our first impressions be waking up the new sleeping dancer 5 hours before she had to be up for class. But wait….the bed was made….and no other sign of new life….mysterious.
The next morning our roommate introduced herself and informed us she had slept in another room…..so who made the bed?

The new program has begun. Out with the….new and in with the new-er. Helena, Gabi and I spend most of our time guiltily not making friends and instead sitting in the exact same spots talking about the ones who had left. We selfishly figured it would be easier to not get attached to yet more faces we’d have to say goodbye to. I suppose that is the wrong attitude. This portion of the program is a good transition because it is significantly less strenuous and is smaller, so it’s a nice opportunity to get more one on one help from teachers before I have to take an unknown amount of time off of dancing.

Everyone all dressed up for the crazy last morning ballet class.

I only have 4 more days in Salzburg. 3 days of dancing and being with friends and a day of tour when my parents arrive! I cannot believe that the time has come and they will soon be on their way here! Chapter 2 is about to commence. Woah.

-Emily

Wibbly Wobbly…Time-y Wimey…

Posted on August 8, 2012 by pricemv

Its funny how time moves, it couldn’t possibly be moving in a consistent straight line. After our final performance of the program a group of us walked into the city to have a goodbye celebration. While sitting out by the water in the cool, fresh evening air, my travels here seemed like yesterday, not 4 weeks ago. I felt like I’d known these people for so much longer than a month. When there were only 4 of us left, we reminisced about the first evening and recalled first impressions/memories of each other as if it were 5 years ago. Amazing how an hour and forty five minute ballet class can feel like an eternity and that lunch time will never arrive and then suddenly everyone is on a train/plane home and I’m left not hoping that the fondu combination at barre will be short, but that the time before I am reunited with my new connections will be less than forever.

The last night after the show, saying goodbye to our Italian roommate! Other goodbye photos are on Facebook. Using sign language we managed to communicate that someday we’ll visit each other!

Let me go back a bit…
The last week of the program was a lot of rehearsal, costume fittings, make up classes and show preparation. It was fun to see our studio transform into a huge stage. I learned other countries’ backstage phrases and good and bad luck habits. Toi toi toi! The dressing room was tiny and stuffy, but it was a fun place to spend the evenings once I adjusted to having afternoons off and work in the evening instead of vice versa like the rest of the time. We may have not gotten dinner until 10pm but we had Pilates and sunshine in the afternoons!
On Saturday we packed up and bussed into Munich to perform at a location opposite of the school – tiny stage and huge dressing/warm-up room! On our short break several of us walked to get food and I was reminded how seriously they take bike paths here. I haven’t gotten used to them being sort of a part of the sidewalk. I almost collided with a biker.
Water Closet Story:
I also had an interesting experience with a bathroom at the rest stop on the way. It was a big place to buy food and souvenirs and it cost 70 cents to use the bathroom. But I had no choice. After grumbling and stressing that I didn’t know how to use the machine, I paid and stood in a huge line. A cute little kid saw bubbles in the sink and excitedly told his mom about them in German. Then he kept me entertained by trying to press on the motion sensor facet to turn on the water. Finally back on the bus, telling my friends about this event, I found out that the “bathroom souvenir” I got was actually a ticket for 50 cents off of something. Sheesh, If only I had known that before buying a coke! It was an exhausting trip but a nice way to have a big day together at the end of the program. As always, the best part was my friends.

Have I raved about the people enough yet? I really really miss them. It hasn’t even been 24 hours…. 🙁 It’s very weird and very sad to be staying here without them. Change and transition is hard. The more times it happens I expect to be more prepared or for it to get easier but I think it may always take me a few days of struggle before I adjust.

There is flavored bubbly water here that is called “Emotion”. So of course we had a running joke about drinking emotions. This is a picture of Gabi and I drinking our emotions after everyone had left. Don’t worry, that’s water. Also, we didn’t see the sign in the background till later….total accident that it’s perfectly centered in this picture!

Instances for patience pants this week:
1) Accepting that in some cultures, snapping one’s fingers at another is merely a way to get someone’s attention. Not considered as rude as we’d find it in the U.S.

2) Remembering to speak slowly and be willing to repeat and rephrase. (A situation I hadn’t anticipated since I expected to be the one that was confused – but this program is mostly in my “mother tongue” and many students have very good English so I get comfortable speaking normally) Soon enough I will be the minority struggling to follow conversation and learning new phrases and won’t be able to express my deep appreciation for the native speakers that are patient with my broken French. “Quoi?! Répétez s’il vous plaît!”

Squeaky Sneakers:
I regret to announce the lack of development to report in regards to the footsteps story I left hanging for you last time. We (when I say “we”, I am generally referring to Gabi and I) have taken one step in further investigation. After watching about 3 more Harry Potter movies, we began to speculate that there was a cauldron of poly juice potion simmering in the locked stall and perhaps it took a drop of our own blood for the door to open (you know, like in book 7 in the cave, to weaken the intruder) I insisted today that we find out for sure what is in there. So we did.

Gabi, investigating the middle stall, as classy as can be!

Unfortunately, it was just what appeared to be a regular toilet. We didn’t try standing in it and flushing to get into the Ministry of Magic though.

The noises have not gone away. Sometimes they wake Gabi and I to the point we both know the other is awake and hearing the sounds but neither of us say a word. Maybe the next step is calling out the intruder next time we hear them.

In addition, since our other roommate went back to Italy today and a new one will be arriving on Wednesday, we considered holding a séance on her first night. You know, an induction of sorts….to break the ice…… just kidding….

Since everyone was gone, we decided it was safe for Kelsey to come in the girls bathroom and originally the plan was so he could lift us up to see over the edge. He took it upon himself to just climb up instead and all I could see were his legs dangling over the edge at least 3 feet off the ground.

The last day of class we had a silly dress up ballet class. Gabi and I dressed up as two of the boys and acted like them throughout the entire class. It was great fun. Many people had funny costumes and it was an entirely unproductive hour! We had most of the day off to get ready for the final show and for people to pack. In the evening, after the performance we had one last night all together and went into the city until way-too-early-in-the-morning-o’clock…. Needless to say, I’m still not caught up on sleep…

This is Etay. The real him is in the center wearing his rehearsal clothes. I’m on the left wearing what he wore to every single ballet class (including his warm up shoes not shown) and Dianna is on the right wearing his performance outfit. I was complimented on how well I acted like him, which was also quite fun.

Touristiness:
Visited the birthplace of Mozart on the first day off after the last performance and the start of new classes. It was a pretty cool museum but my friends and I were sleep deprived and starving. Plus it was hot and crowded so we were struggling to take full advantage of our time there and read every plaque. I did learn a few things though and now I can say I’ve been there, which I think is pretty cool! 🙂

Mozart’s birthplace from the outside!

I have two more days of freedom to plan; Tuesday and Saturday. So many possibilities! I’ll get back to you on the final decision and how it went next time!

Ta ta for now!
Emily

P.S. That was written several days before I finally uploaded it so Tuesday has already happened and I’ll write about that soon!

Fluency

Posted on August 8, 2012 by pricemv

I came to Argentina with one goal in mind: Become fluent in Spanish. However, I quickly realized that this goal, is not attainable. I have taken 6 years of Spanish classes, and had multiple conversations, multiple tests, worksheets, and accidental misunderstandings, and after being here in Argentina for 6 weeks, I realize that the word “fluent” for me implied a mastery of the language; as if somehow there was a magic point where I could understand everything, and express myself effortlessly.

After being here, and witnessing my Spanish improve greatly, I’m left to analyze if I have become “fluent”. As I reflect upon if I have achieved my goal, I realize that this view of language is completely incorrect. There is no time where Spanish will be effortless, because I have realized that language is effort. Even in English I struggle to express myself, I struggle to understand what other people are saying and thinking. Communication itself, the action of thinking and defining what we feel and what we see is an incredible challenge for everyone in any language. In the same way, it is a great challenge for all of humanity to listen and understand what someone else is thinking, feeling, and saying. To expect that my brain will reach a point where it’s not a challenge to express myself is a naive view of language.

So I have abandoned the idea that there’s a black and white linear process that occurs when learning another language. Everyday I learn more, everyday as I experience and feel life, I better my skills of expression in Spanish, and in English, as well as writing, singing, or dancing. They are all different ways to take what is inside of me and make it into a physical action of saying a word, writing a sentence, singing a note, or moving my body to the rhythm.

Learning Spanish has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life. To find hundreds of new words, new ways, to say what I mean, is as much of a learning experience about myself, as it is about another culture, and other people. I now have this ability to say things in a new ways that more people will understand, to express myself differently. It’s all a mess of expression, y me encanta!

Emily

What’s in a Name? And Some Perspective…

Posted on August 6, 2012 by pricemv

I’m about to start my third full week here, and it’s simply amazing how fast time has flown by. This study abroad experience has been quite a whirlwind tour, jam packed with as many amazing experiences as possible. In two weeks I have completed 50 hours of classes, countless hours of homework, attended a gaucho party at an estancia in another province, toured a former clandestine detention center from the Argentine military dictatorship while listening to the account of former victim/prisoner, done a walking tour of the city, traveled 18 hours by bus to experience Iguazu Falls, visited a public school, viewed Rosario from 230 feet above in the flag monument, and quite literally had my brain brought to the brink of exhaustion many times as a result of being immersed in a foreign language conversation. Each and every one of those experiences has been simply unforgettable and awe-inspiring. But it has been during my quiet moments here in Argentina that I think I have learned the most.

In Argentina I have taken on a temporarily altered identity. It all began with my name. Never have I understood the importantance of a name for one’s sense of identity than since arriving here. Although my entire life (well, my entire married life, anyway) I have been Jessie Pad”eee”a, here in Argentina, where they pronounce the double LL differently, I am referred to as Padi”gja”. A very important detail that almost led to missing my bus the very first day. In addition to my last name, Argentineans have no basis for pronouncing my first name, in the form of the nickname I have used my entire life. When I offer “Jessie” at a request for my name, more often than not I am met with a puzzled look. When it gets communicated that it is a shortened version of Jessica, the light comes on (ah, Jey si ca!) and I am thereafter referred to as Jessica, as though I was the confused one.

I have realized through this process that a name is so much more than I always gave it credit for. It is something that is inherently yours, despite the fact that it holds no material body or wealth. It is a sense of identification beyond necessity. After 34 years, my name (and it’s pronunciation) has become as much a part of me as the freckles on my nose and the shape of my fingernails. To have it altered by others carries a sense of intrusion and theft. These emotions have caused me to reflect upon the Americanization of names so often dealt out to diverse ethnic groups at the hands of well meaning U.S. citizens. As a future teacher, I now understand the sense of loss and powerlessness associated with such practice, and will always make it of utmost priority to first and foremost learn the correct pronunciation of each and every student name in my classroom.

Along with my new alias has come an altered daily routine and persona. In Argentina I have not been wearing makeup. This is a small detail that contains several personal implications. Although I don’t wear much makeup ordinarily, there is a feeling of professionalism and finishing touch that accompanies the process. We tend to hide our flaws and present perfected faces to the world. What was born from laziness and surrender (23 hours of travel can do that to a person) has developed into a new identity. Here I am a temporary resident whose sole purpose is to learn and experience. I have no need to impress or present a polished appearance. I am a child of foreign experiences, traveling each day with wide-eyed appreciation and wonder.

In these daily travels I have additionally lost my typical stride. At home, I swiftly walk from destination to destination, sure of my place in the world. Here I walk with care and interest, my stride too often interrupted by new sights, smells, and noises. I have become the mumbling wanderer, always trying out new words to test the shape of their formation in my mouth (“el sandwicheto”, “cataratas”, “los desaparecidos”). Aside from my mumblings I am a silent stranger here, spending hours each day simply walking; walking the 10 blocks to school, the same blocks home, to the great Parana river, the grocery store, and various local landmarks. And sometimes, just walking to experience Argentina.

It was within one of these walks with no destination yesterday that I began to think about levels of experience in regards to life. When I began this journey, in its earliest planning stages, Argentina was nothing more than a colored shape on so many maps in my life. A neatly drawn, simple closed curve with artificial color. It was symbolic and clean, familiar with its contours but lacking in personality.

As I flew into the country I plunged one level deeper. I saw Argentina itself, although from a considerable distance. Seeing the mountaintops, river systems, grids of cities, and grasslands all under the same types of clouds that blanket my own home made it that much more real. The beauty was breathtaking, but it could have been any county. The was no way to differentiate. I always think back to the cartoons I watched when I was little, and how when they would go really high up in the sky they could look down and see all the political boundaries and country names drawn below them. For a long time in my youth I thought that was how it really was. Looking down at Argentina though, I had no guideposts. There was just the natural beauty of a magnificent country.

Last weekend some of the other students and I paid the 5 pesos to take the elevator 70 meters up to the top of the flag monument. The view was spectacular, with the river to one side and buildings as far as one could see on the other. I noted, as I was gazing our across the city, that you couldn’t really see any of the fantastic architecture of Rosario. This city is remarkably rich in historic and diverse architecture. The streets are lined up and down with rich colors, lines, and adornments. None of that could be seen from the monument, though. We could only see the tallest buildings, standing out above very thing else. And the tallest buildings are the most plain, constructed purely out of necessity for a rapidly expanding community. There was a sense of irony standing there 230 feet above the city, as I could see so much but at the same time so little. I could see the city in its entirety, but I couldn’t see any of the beautiful intricacies that make Rosario what it is.

At the deepest level of my journey have been my meanderings through the streets. At this level I cannot see the rooftops or the complete river system. I can’t see much beyond one street at at a time. In terms of quantity, my sight is limited. But it is here that I taste the essence of Rosario. And when you venture to experience anything at its deepest levels all your experiences are going to be that much more vivid and striking; the good and the bad.

While walking the streets I have to watch out for broken sidewalks, insane traffic routines, and lots and lots of dog poop. I see the bird with a broken wing, shaking in fear at my approach but unable to get away. I see the dogs who are sickly and hurt, hobbling around on 3 legs or creeping along in exhaustion. I see the children who quietly come into the restaurants, placing small wares on each table in the hopes that someone will pay a few pesos for them. I experience the pain that comes with life at it’s most elemental levels. And this leaves me raw and wishing for that disinfected and refined distance the maps, planes, and monuments provide me.

But it is in this level that I break into a grin at the 3 young children high on a balcony overlooking Orono Blvd, screaming “hola!” at the top of their lungs to each and every car that passes by. I see the couples embracing on the park benches, lost in one another for that moment in time. I inhale the warm scents of pastries and meats wafting from restaurants and walk though the laughter of friends and family gathered around patio tables on the sidewalk. I enjoy the music and art of street performers, the jazz of a trumpet matching my stride and giving my step a little extra pep. I experience the best of Rosario- its heart and soul.

So life is what we make of it. Some prefer to remain at a safe and comfortable distance, never experiencing the sight of a broken wing but never inhaling the scents of a neighborhood bakery either. Some may hold themselves above it all, believing themselves superior as a result of their more extensive viewpoint. This view, although wide, is very shallow in depth. And then there are those who dive in and submerse themselves. Although their field of vision might not be as large, comprehension is rich and saturated. There are belly laughs that cause you to ache with joy and tears that sting a raw and exposed soul. There is beauty at its very best and pain at its very worst.

And that is what this journey has been for me. It’s been about getting dirty and scared, rewarded and inspired. It’s forcing myself to remain at those deepest levels when it hurts or feels hard, and then experiencing the bubbles of pure joy and excitement that accompany so many of my experiences. I may not be able to see it all, but my limited view offers a much greater perspective.

Jessie

Free Hugs!

Posted on August 5, 2012 by pricemv

No Cars Allowed!

My favorite way to pass time in Rosario, Argentina is by exploring the city’s lively streets. I have to be careful because a lot of activity constantly happens. There are always a lot of people hustling and bustling about. I have been warned many times about robbers. I never fell in danger, but I need to be alert and aware that things do happen. Living in a big city is probably the most noticeable difference for me.

I think all of us noticed that the traffic “laws” here act more like guideline. I have not seen anyone pulled over for speeding during my time here in Argentina. The police choose to use their efforts on other things. Talking to locals has informed me the activities the police choose to participate in usually do not benefit the citizens. The absence of enforcement leaves the traffic up to the people to decide. With a lack of many street signs as a guide, pedestrians share the right of way even at the crosswalks. The locals know you must be very careful crossing the street. I have been warned many times that drivers do not stop for you.

Luckily, there are streets where no cars are allowed. These pedestrian streets are called “peatonales”. The street that I live on (Córdoba) is a central street in Rosario. A couple blocks down from my apartment there is a plaza where Córdoba turns into a peatonal. This road designated for people runs for eight blocks down to the flag monument. Many locals choose this walking only area for the place to stroll and window shop. Recently on a nice day, I walked down to the park in between the monument and the river. On the weekends there are a lot of people just hanging out drinking the regional tea (Mate) or playing. Many local craftsmen set up booths along the side walk, which provides a nice opportunity to mingle and enjoy some beautiful work.

The sign designating walkers only.

Learning to Rebel

The sun reflected off the river as I walked along the low fence hugging its bank. The cold wind canceled out any heat that I would have received from the shining sun. I don’t know if the longing to rebel is in the blood of the people from Rosario. The birth place of Che Guevara also breeds many strikes and a social system where people challenge rules. Once again, I noticed someone casually breaking a law in probably the most adorable way possible. I man was teaching his son to fish directly next to a “Fishing is Prohibited” sign. I guess that the citizens here just grow up learning to not obey signs. Instead, they find their own system that works for them.

Best Bandit Ever!

Flowers in a Stroller

As I continued, I noticed a man playing a guitar shirtless with three bottles of local beer next to him. He was soon joined by a girl that came and sat by him. As I was watching him, a group of what looked like tourist passed. I tried to figure out where they were from without being too much of a creep. Then out of nowhere I hear a voice asking me in Spanish if I want to buy a flower for the lady. I responded saying I didn’t even know her and tried to avert the situation, but I heard him ask in English if I spoke English. I turned and said that I did and he asked me where I was from. I told him the United States, so he wondered which part. This turned into a very long conversation in Spanish that I really enjoyed. He was a very enthusiastic and curious man that had a bunch of flowers he was selling out of a stroller. We ended up talking for a very long time about life and whatever else came up. Eventually, he said he needed to get going to sell to flowers, so he could eat. I thought I would buy a flower for his time. I knew my host mom would love it anyway. He was delighted and this purchase spurred us into another very long conversation. I appreciated his patients and enthusiasm. He said if I ever saw him again to make sure and say hi.

I enjoyed a very long conversation with the man selling flowers from a stroller.

I continued on my journey looking along the little booths and making small talk with the artisans. There were beautiful handmade crafts of wood, leather, fabric, and metal. There were also some not so great things for sale. I rested on a bench of a while watching the kids play in the park. There were swings, monkey bars, and even teeter totters. I now realize why teeter totters are hard to find in the states as I watched an older brother keep his wailing younger and much smaller brother lifted on the other end of the bench. Later, I worried a little boy would accidently get his face smashed in as he casually held onto the opposite in of the board as other hyperactive children ran around it. I could also hear the chime of the carousel nearby. After a nice rest, I wondered around to booths for the last time. As I was about to leave, I saw my friend with the flowers again, so of course this lead to another wonderful long conversation before I went up back to the monument.

Kids play the same around the world.

I paused to take in the greatness of the monument once again. Long shadows cast on the massive amounts of beautifully sculpted stones from the Andes Mountains as the sun started to slide behind the towers of Rosario. I could hear the sound of the native flutes nearby. The music lured me over to where a group was practicing. I sat down in what remained of the sun to enjoy their songs in harmony. After a while, I decided to continue my journey home.

The group enjoying playing native music in the sun.

“Am I A Man? Or Am I A MUPPET?”

A lot of people wondered Córdoba at this time. All of a sudden, the sea of people turned into a wall. A whorl pool of attention was created by something in the middle drawing everyone in. When I navigated through the people I could see there was a man with a marionette putting on a show choreographed to the famous “Imagine” by The Beatles. After that, his marionette snuck around to the theme to “Pink Panther”. On the ground he had written “Hay dos cosas cambian el mundo, las Armas y las Bellas Artes.” (There are two things that change the world, Armed Forces and the Fine Arts.) Children enjoyed putting money in his can as the puppet waved thank you. I continued watching until he started is routine over and went on my way.

The puppeteer putting on a show in the middle of the peatonal.

Free Hugs!

At the plaza at the end of the peatonal there was a group. They had signs that said, “Abrazos Gratis” (Free Hugs). I thought this was pretty amusing, so I went over by them and of course cashed in my free hug. They noticed I was taking pictures and one of the leaders came over. Because I am so tall, she got up on a step to give me a hug, which they thought was pretty funny. Then she gave me a book called “La Gran Esperanza” (The Great Hope). I said thank you and walked off looking through the book, but when I saw an address and times written in the cover, my curiosity got the better of me. I went back around to someone sitting by the box of books and asked her if she could explain what it was about. I told her that I was a student studying Spanish and was actually looking for a church. I pointed out the address in the cover and asked if it was a church. She told me that they were a Christian church and actually had a service that evening for the youth in about half an hour. I was curious and wanted to experience more, so I got directions and said I would go by my house then to their church.

Me giving a hug to a friendly little stranger.

The directions they gave me worked perfectly. I found the church no problem and recognized quite a few people. I sat by the lady who I asked about the book and her son for service. Her name was Brenda and she made sure that I was comfortable. After the service, I was quite the spectacle. Everyone wanted to meet me, (kiss me), and tell me about how happy they were I joined them. After the excitement settled down a little bit, I went outside and walked with Brenda and her son a little while on my way home. I found out that she is a nurse the works with children that have cancer. I told her about my amazing older brother the serviced cancer at a young age and found out that she is a breast cancer survivor like my mom as well. She gave me her information to contact her, so that we could get together later and the times of the church services. I thanked her and went home for dinner after a long exciting day.

Vaya con Dios!

Cain

this month

Posted on August 5, 2012 by pricemv

These past few weeks have been a fast blur. Living in London has been a dream come true.
I’ve gotten very used to the new slang I’ve learned, and I’ve used it everywhere I go! I’ve met some really great people and seen some really great things.

the beauty of Paris. Me in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Paris for Bastille Day was beautiful but too crowded and very exhausting; I saw everything in one day.

The language barrier in Paris was difficult but do-able. I learned the hard way, if you go out to eat, they expect you to stay for like three hours. Staying at a restaurant for three hours was not my plan but it was part of the culture so it was nice. Also, their food in France is something that can’t be matched. I went to Paris a few years ago as well and remember the food being the best, and it still is. All that coffee and baguettes was delicious.

I was also able to go to Bath on a field trip. It was beautiful there and I wish I had more then just one day to spend there. I learned a lot about the baths in the Roman times and their traditional life style.

view from the Elephant House Cafe in Edinburgh

Scotland was a place to be feared. It’s beauty ruled out everywhere I’ve ever seen. Edinburgh was a dream, in future years they should let students stay there longer then just one day.

Edinburgh Castle on the hilltop was a marvel. I also took a Literary Pub Tour! Two actors look us to pub locations that famous Scottish writers had gone to a lot in the 19th century, and they told us stories and recited poetry in English and in Scotts! The Scottish language is hard to understand but it is very interesting; it seems to be a bit like English but the words as in such a heavy Scottish accent and with a Scottish tongue that you can’t understand most of it.

Something that almost got me killed a few times that I’ve learned in London is their stop lights are different then ours. I was trying to cross the street, and I noticed the light turned yellow so I was like great they are about to stop! So I started walking, only to start running because the bus was honking and not stopping and coming right toward me. I learned that some lights here go from red to yellow to green and some go from green to yellow to red. I should just wait for the walk sign from now on.

xoxo Allison

Bittersweet

Posted on August 5, 2012 by pricemv

Well, it’s my last day here in London. It’s 10am and I just got back from breakfast and am curled back up in bed trying to avoid packing for as long as I can. It’s strange to think I will probably never live in this cute little dorm room again even in my returning travels to London. It has become a little home-away-from-home for me. At breakfast this morning my RA’s and I reflected on this trip. I have become very close to both of them, spending many hours traveling to different countries, cities, markets, and other various places with them. We hit a point in our conversation where the mood shifted a little bit when someone mentioned going home tomorrow. Then Casey said, “Girls, this is the last breakfast we’re going to have with each other for awhile.” We all started to cry. I’m so blessed that I came across such amazing people while embarking on this adventure. We have been through a lot in these few short weeks, creating a bond that will surely not see an end for a very, very long time. Travel arrangements are already being made so that we can all see each other in December and June and show one and other our hometowns that are all very far from each other. Okay, enough with the sappy stuff! I’ve been on some pretty amazing adventures these past few weeks. And by pretty amazing I mean experiences that I will remember for the rest of my life. I went to Dover yesterday. It’s a beach town on the English Channel. Last weekend, I went to Amsterdam, probably the strangest city imaginable. The week before, I went to Brighton, another beach town. Also, the day after Brighton I went to Bath. Probably one of my favorite experiences while being abroad. Oh and did I mention that the Olympics are happening here right now? Talk about craziness in London!

I’ll start with Bath. For those of you that don’t know, Bath is located about an hour and a half outside of London. It’s where Romans used to bathe in a natural mineral hot spring in the beautiful countryside of England. The history behind this place blew my mind. We toured the original Baths, here’s some pictures:

This first one is of the cathedral right outside of the Roman Baths. So beautiful.

The second photo is of the actual Roman Bath. The water looks gross, but it’s mineral water from a hot spring right below the town.

The day before this, I went to Brighton. The coolest beach town EVER! It was the polar opposite to Bath, a historic landmark. Brighton is a hip, bohemian beach town with so many cute shops and pubs. I went with a few new friends and it was such a great bonding experience. My new friend, Colin and I ended up buying swim suits on the 60 degree weather day and jumped in the English channel and swam around for awhile. It actually wasn’t too cold, until we got out and the sun was not shining anymore. Nothing a little hot soup and cider couldn’t fix!

Now, for those of you who have visited Amsterdam there’s no need to re-inform you how weird that city is. For anyone looking for adventure, go there. And if you’re a girl, bring a guy friend for good measure. Aside from the sketchiness of the town, it is BEAUTIFUL. I am still trying to process it a week and a half later. The architecture was jaw dropping. We stayed in a hostel about a half a mile outside of the “ring” of the city which I’m thankful for. It was still a little weird on the inside but not like the ones located towards the red light district. We went on a bike ride around the city which was an absolute blast once I got over the crazy traffic thing. I am still convinced there are no such thing as rules in Amsterdam. The cars go wherever they want, the people walk wherever they want, the trams will run you over if you’re not paying attention, and last but not least, there are literally bikes EVERYWHERE. I thought people in Oregon rode a lot of bikes but boy was I wrong. If you don’t have a bike and live in Amsterdam… you don’t live in Amsterdam. The city is small but people have to get around fast, what better way to do that than on 2 wheels?

And last but not least, yesterday I went to Dover. This is where there’s white cliffs and black rocky beaches. It was breathtaking. Also, quite refreshing seeing as I’ve seen so much architecture. It was nice to see some natural beauty of England.

I have had such an amazing experience while studying abroad. I can’t even fathom it yet… It will be nice to get home to see my family though. I miss them so much and can’t wait to share my stories with them. Also, I wouldn’t mind a little more sun and I hear Oregon has plenty of that right now. I will be returning to London without a DOUBT in these next few years. Whether it be studying abroad or backpacking with my younger sister around Europe. This is not goodbye England, just a see you later. Now, time for a little nap before I pack up and head down to the market to spend the rest of my pounds on candy and trinkets for my friends and family back home. CHEERS!!!

Rachael

Technical difficulties

Posted on August 4, 2012 by pricemv

Along with a wonderful experience traveling across the world comes some difficulties, to say the least. Wallet stolen, computer fried, and strep throat have all been some pretty significant set backs in school, traveling, and being able to post on this blog. I hate to fill this feed with bad news though! Needless to say London has been amazing these past few weeks. I’ve met some of my best friends, seen the most breathtaking sights, and learned so much about the world and myself. I’m going to cover what happened the second week I was here since that’s when my computer fried (but luckily there’s a computer shop right down the road!!). And see if I can figure out how to post my week 4 blog onto wordpress, it’s already on tumblr…my regular blog!

Week 2:

This is when classes started picking up pace quite a bit. 3 hour class, 1 hour break, 3 hour class, 2 hour break, mandatory film session for my British Film class, homework, field trip the next day, and repeat! It’s a bit of a shock being over here in the first place, but having to go to school was quite the adjustment with everything else going on! During this week my class went to the BBC (a famous news broadcasting company here in London) which absolutly blew my mind! I was in heaven because this industry has been of great interest to me for a long time, and I got to see live news rooms! Amazing! By the way, the two classes I’m taking are World Media Systems and British Popular Films.

Here’s me at BBC! I look like I belong here don’t I! (haha)

This same week for my film class we got to visit the british film museum! Now let me tell you, there was no comparison between that and Harry Potter world (our first field trip) but it was definitely a valuable experience.

Here’s me with Darth Vader! Don’t worry, I think he was sleeping 😉

While taking these two classes I’ve been able to zone in on what I want to do after college. I’ve always loved film, but now I feel like a professional! I look forward to taking more classes on film production because I enjoy this class so much. I wish that i would have just taken this class so I could focus on it more. The two classes I’m taking over here after definitely the hardest ones. Many of us are in both of the classes and are stressed out beyond belief pretty much every night. I’ve had to do more school work these last 2 weeks than I did in 1 term in many of my classes back at wou. I understand that theres a lot of information to fit in, but it’s also nice to have a little more time to travel during the week like the rest of the students have. I hope the professors let up a little bit after midterms or they are going to have some wiped out students on their hands!

Most of the material above is from my tumblr blog from week 2, and again I apologize for the time gap. It’s 2am over here, and I’m going to get some rest! I’ll post about my latest activities tomorrow. A little sneak preview: Amsterdam, Dover, Brighton, LOST. 🙂 Until next time! Cheers,

Rachael

Monumento de la Bandera

Posted on August 4, 2012 by pricemv

I have been in Argentina for 6 weeks and I just went on a guided tour of the city. We were at Iguazu the last time the tour was offered so we missed it. I only have a week left so it seemed kind of pointless, but I am glad that I went. The tour guide pointed out some nice art museums that I definitely want to visit next week. It was interesting to hear and see all the old buildings that were donated to the city to be preserved. I could see the changes in architecture as the years went on.

We ended our tour at the Flag Monument. This monument is what I was most eager to learn about on our tour. Its whole complex is 10,000 square meters and is built mostly out of stone from the Andes.

The monument has 3 parts: the tower, which commemorates the Revolution of 1810, the civic courtyard, which symbolizes the effort of the organization of the state, and the Triumphal Propylaeum representing the Nation as organized after the 1853 constitution. We got to climb the tower and look out and see some magnificent views of Rosario and the Parana River. It only cost 5 pesos which is like $1.25 so it was a must. We only walked like three flights of stairs and then there were no more stairs, so an elevator was the only way to get to the top. It seemed quite odd. Once at the top it was amazing, I felt like I could see the whole city. Rosario is filled with tall buildings and I could actually see the tops of some! I am so glad that we made the journey and got to experience the city from above.

Melissa

Bread, Glorious Bread

Posted on August 4, 2012 by pricemv

As I have traveled around the town of Angers, I have noticed that there are a large number of boulangeries, or bakeries, in every part of town. Boulangeries are common like corner stores in the United States, except their products are much more specialized. At every meal with my school and my host family I have had access to bread and I have realized it is a staple in the French diet even more so than my beloved cheese. It is not unusual to see someone riding their bike or walking around holding only a baguette. This icon of France has me wondering why bread is so important and readily accessible in France.

This is a meal I shared with several fellow exchange students. We had pizza and salad, and of course French bread.

In this picture, other than the appetizer of duck pate, you can see the French bread scattered in front of students plates at lunch time.

As I looked online, many places suggested that once bread became part of the culture it has been unmovable. As with any cultural food, it has been accepted and loved by the people for so long that its existence is not questioned. It is easily made and accessible so it was only natural for it to rise to an important place in the French diet. One site even suggested that the term “bread winner” is relating the importance of obtaining bread to the person with the largest pay. While I found this information interesting, I felt that there was more to be learned about the place of French bread in the culture here.
I asked a French friend why he felt bread was so important in France. While he relayed the information previously mentioned, he added an important new detail. Grain is in abundance here, and as grain is so easily made in to bread it became an important food to eat. Bread is easily accessible because the grain and other ingredients to make bread were very easily accessible and therefore cheap. So what began as an easy resource for food has become one of the most important foods in French culture and an international symbol of the country.
Maggie

WOU Students Abroad

Tag Archives: While Abroad

“Vienna waits for you”….but the train does not.

Wibbly Wobbly…Time-y Wimey…

Fluency

What’s in a Name? And Some Perspective…

Free Hugs!

this month

Bittersweet

Technical difficulties

Monumento de la Bandera

Bread, Glorious Bread