Wofford College - Study Abroad

Lost in Translation

Last week, our program had a meeting about our experiences and mistakes we’ve made so far. Some of my classmates told stories of sheer embarrassment of misunderstandings with their Domnician parents or people in the street. They’d said one thing with a clear intention, while their Dominican audience heard something completely different. At the end of this meeting, I counted myself with the lucky because I haven’t had any of these experiences. This is not to say that my Spanish is perfect, because that is farthest from the truth, but I have been able to talk or gesture my way out of these sticky circumstances.

Well, last week, my luck ran out. On Thursday, I accompanied my mom and two Dominican sisters to the salon. In Dominican society, it is a MUST for a woman to go the salon every week to get her hair and nails done. I had previously accompanied my mom on one of these salon trips before, but due to the ever-so-sophisticated vocabulary that goes along with black hair processes, I decided that it was easier to do my hair myself. However, last week I needed a hair trim and decided it was time to make this unavoidable trip.

The lot of us, my mom, two sisters, and fellow study abroader piled into my sister’s car to head to the salon. Butterflies filled my stomach but my friend assured me that it would be fine because my fluent bilingual sisters could pick up where our Spanish stopped. Nevertheless, my friend was wrong. I sat in the chair and told the stylist I wanted a cortito (a small cut) to trim my ends. After the stylist looked at me with perplexity, I yelled this in English to my sister across the room who translated my request into rapid fire Dominican Spanish.

The hair started to fall but my hopes didn’t, until the stylist asked me to explain again what I wanted. I tried to explain to her that I have an A-line cut and my hair is not supposed to be the same length. But thanks to my lovely Spanish, she didn’t understand, and when I left the chair all of my hair was even. Trying not to be the gringa that lost her cool, I left the salon with my family and pretended that everything was ok.

When I arrived home, I told my mom that I looked like a hongcito (a little mushroom); therefore, I wouldn’t be leaving the house until December 16 to catch my plane home. After laughing at my lovely allusion, she assured that my haircut was fine and that in fact, I did not look like a mushroom. Mushroom head or not, this would not be the last time I would lose something in translation.

The following weekend, our program took a group of us on a work retreat. The work retreat, a weekend of community service, was in a batey, a marginalized Haitian community that lives and works within a sugar plantation. The community rarely leaves the confines of the plantation and is therefore isolated from Dominicans and all life outside of the batey. As our bus pulled into this community, I was confronted with poverty of a great magnitude: children without clothes and shoes, mothers younger than me, and men looking for a new way to provide for their families. Our guide for the weekend, Dr. Lesly Manigat, a Haitian doctor who graduated from our university and the hardest working humanitarian for marginalized Haitians living in the DR, told our group that we were going to paint the dilapidated houses.

Upon hearing this, I was upset. I didn’t want to paint over this poverty; instead, I wanted to erase it. But that was not our mission for the weekend. We began to paint and my attitude soon changed. Not wanting to leave the job to the unsteady hand of foreigners, members of this community started to join in with us. I remember talking with a Haitian man in Spanish about Haitians, African-Americans, and the status of people of color in the world. While many of our words were lost in translation from English to Spanish and Creole to Spanish, a shared hope for a better world was not.

Later, when we finished, a group of little girls approached me to play pit-pat (a hand game) and to take pictures with me. As my hands touched theirs to the rhythm of a common childhood melody, I realized that I had it all wrong. These people were marginalized and resource poor but they were human just like me. Even though our paint job could not instantly remove them from poverty, it could lift their hopes for just one more day and this hope propels the human race.

Thoughts of my mushroom head faded. Many things may and will be lost in translation, but a love for humanity never will be.

Regina

(Picutres: 1.) Me in the Batey with my new friends, 2.) the building after we painted it 3.) Dr. Lesly instructing painters)

Busy in Beijing

October 24, 2008  

Hey everyone!
I know it has been a while, but Beijing has been keeping me busy!  After our two week trip we were overloaded with class work, I almost felt like I was back at Wofford.  Not really, but I imagine Milliken is packed with students right now studying for midterms just as I am.  I’m still enjoying Beijing, but it’s little thoughts like this that trigger homesickness.  I haven’t had too much time to be homesick, though.  Two weekends ago we had an overnight trip to the Great Wall.  We had a rough start due to some logistic difficulties, and by this I mean there were too many people and not enough seats on the bus.  Once we finally reached the Great Wall, though, we had a really good time.  The Great Wall is divided into several different sections and you have to buy a ticket every time you enter a new  section.  We went to one of the lesser touristy parts called Simatai.  This particular portion of the wall has had very little restoration work so the climb was a little rougher than I expected.  Parts of the wall were very easy and comfortable to walk on, but at other points we literally had to use hands and feet to climb the steep stone steps.  After several hours of climbing through rubble and stone we reached our final destination – the ice cream stand.  Ok, the ice cream wasn’t really our final destination, but it was an excellent reward for all of our hard work.  That night we stayed with a family in a nearby village.  The next morning we were supposed to wake up at 4:30am to hike to the top of the Great Wall to watch the sunrise.  My room missed the wake up call, so at 4:40am our host mom rushed into the room to wake us up.  Confused and exhausted we grabbed our things and scrambled out the door.  With a guide leading us we literally sprinted up the path for about 15 minutes to catch up with the group.  Not only was it extremely early and cold outside, but as you can imagine it was pitch black and we couldn’t see our own footsteps.  It was probably better that we couldn’t see though, because the parts of the path had very steep drop offs and it wasn’t until later when we climbed down the mountain in the daylight that we realized how dangerous the path actually was.  The hike was supposed to only take 45 minutes, but with a group of over 40 students you can probably imagine that it took much longer than that.  As we drew closer to the peak the sky began to brighten and we feared that we would miss the sunrise.  The higher we climbed the steeper the path and the more tired we became.  Being the clumsy person that I am, I tripped and fell many times.  I slid down a mud slope and nearly took out the girl behind me.  We literally had to run up the path and grab onto trees to prevent from rolling back down.  It was intense, but we finally made it to the top in time to settle down and enjoy the sunrise.  I’ll admit I was a bit disgruntled by the end of the hike, but watching the morning sun peek over the mountain top in the distance and brighten the Great Wall below us made it all worth while.  I put on my headphones, turned on my ipod and just enjoyed God’s beautiful creation.  It’s so easy to get caught up in the busyness of every day life, wherever you are, but it was nice just to sit and enjoy.  It was so relaxing until we realized that we had to climb back down the mountain. The hike down was probably more difficult than the climb up, but we all made it with no broken bones!
    Last weekend I was especially blessed, though, because I got to spend the weekend with three other Wofford students!  You may think that this sounds very unlikely, and it is.  Spencer Smith and I are the only two Wofford students studying abroad in Beijing right now, but Wofford students have a tendency to find each other in foreign countries, so when Paul and Jonathon came to Beijing we made it a priority to meet up.  Paul Wood recently graduated and as a product of Wofford’s amazing Chinese department is now living in Shanghai and looking for a job.  Jonathon Hufford, our current Presidential scholar, has been traveling in China for the past couple of weeks and stopped in Beijing for a few days.  It was such a joy to see some familiar faces.  We reminisced about times at Wofford and shared some of our fun/scary experiences abroad with each other.  We all laughed at how strange it was for four Wofford students to randomly meet in Beijing.  That’s just a testament to the kind of unique and amazing opportunities that a Wofford education gives students.  It was great to see them, but it made me just a little more homesick.  I think every study abroad student has those moments where they think, “wow, this is such an amazing experience and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Then you miss your bus because you can’t squeeze through the crowds of people at the bus stop or get into a taxi to find that you still can’t communicate to the driver how to get back to your house and you think, “What am I doing here, I should be back at Wofford playing Frisbee right now!”  Though I’ve had some highs and lows here in China, I’ve already learned so much about the Chinese culture and people and about myself as well, and it’s only half way over!  I feel that the next half will pass very quickly, though, so for now I’m just trying to soak it all in and enjoy these experiences.

My Rollercoaster!

 The past few weeks have been full but empty all at the same time. I went to a lot of fun events and had a great time with friends, but there was always something missing. I made gingerbread houses decorated with candies (snoephuisjes) and poffertjes with little Dutch kids one Saturday. In this big market they had a bus set up that was converted into a kitchen. It had a sink and stove and cabinets and counters! For a certain cost, children could come into the bus and help make the food they were going to eat. They got to wear aprons and crack eggs and stir batter! It was really cute. Lots of kids came to make the snoephuisjes; the hardest part was keeping them from eating all the candies they were supposed to decorate with! It was great to work at this event because younger kids only speak Dutch, so I got to practice speaking the language! I went back another weekend to work at their actual kitchen.  I helped Max celebrate his ninth birthday with five other boys! Together we made burritos, nachos, and a slagroom taart (cream cake). Most of them wore aprons and chef hats that were really cute. One boy asked me (in Dutch) if I had come all the way from America just for Max's birthday. I wish it were that easy!

On a more adult note, the next week I got to go on a tour of the Red Light District with a former prostitute as our guide! She told us all about how the Red Light District worked and even showed us a real working room! (no girls were it is of course) We went inside, turned on the red lights, and automatically people started looking in the windows; however, all they saw were eight fully clothed women.  We got to sit in the chairs behind the window which was quite an experience. Our tour guide told us that the key was to never make eye contact unless you wanted their attention—always look at something else. She demonstrated and made eye contact with a passer-by. Smiling, he came over to the window; he knocked and asked “how much” to one of my classmates but walked away with a laugh and wave! It was fun!

The carnival is also in town for a while—a fair in Dam Square! We went last Friday and found it to be very similar to American carnivals; they had a cotton candy man and the impossible games, but    they also had several really fun rides.  All of the booths and rides were squeezed together in this historic part of Amsterdam. It was quite amusing to see Pirate rides, spinney rides, and bungee rides in front of the old palace and Gothic church. We rode on the giant swings. Every fair has them—the swings that go round and round—but this one was better; not only did it go round and round but it went up and swung you round and round. You could see the whole city of Amsterdam while swinging! It was great! After the ride we decided to buy Oliebollen! These delicious balls of dough are fried and then cover in powdered sugar; you can get the plain or with raisins, almonds, etc.  Quite the delicious treat! 

I also got to go swing dancing that night! It was really fun to be around other dancers and fun music. At first I was a little intimidated to get on the dance floor—I didn’t know anyone—but this really friendly lady introduced herself and another person. She asked if I could Lindy and told me to talk off my coat of no one would know to ask me. I then got to dance like seven songs and had a really good time. My roommate was with me but she doesn’t really know how to swing dance, so I taught her the basic step and we danced a little! It was a really fun night.

Of course my time here in Amsterdam has not always been filled with pure fun. Study abroad is not always a fair. During orientation they show you a diagram of what your emotional rollercoaster will look like, and you think to yourself, “I’ll be fine. That’s not everyone’s rollercoaster.” But sooner or later you find out that those ups and downs really exist.  I found myself starting to miss people. I could handle being away from home, but being away from the people I love and the people who love me is hard. I couldn’t just pick up the phone and call my family or friends. I had to wait on skype or windows messenger if I really wanted to talk to someone and there was no guarantee.  When you are by yourself you lose motivation to go out and do things, so make sure to have a buddy or plan to meet someone. The important thing to do is surround your self with social activities. The longer you stay in your room by yourself, the more depressing everything will seem.

This past Friday it was good that I went to Fish Friday (the cooking event for students) or I might have started to slip down the slope. It was a perfect energy booster. There were five other Dutch students and we were all learning traditional Dutch meals. This Friday we learned how to make a delicious boerenkool stampot.  Stampots are popular in Dutch culture because potatoes were a popular winter item. We peeled, chopped, and boiled potatoes and mashed them with cream, butter, salt, and pepper. Then we added chopped, uncooked boerenkool (Kale) and cooked prosciutto bacon! Mash it all together and you have a delicious stampot! The next item on the menu was dessert—an appelmousse! We chopped up apples and put them in a pan with a little water in the bottom. Then we cooked it on the stove with some cinnamon and sugar until it was smushy!  We served it in bowls and poured plain yogurt on top! It was yummy!

Although Friday was an “up,” Saturday wound up being more of a “down” overall.  I had planned to go see my grandfather’s second wife Janny.  The journey there was rough. I had a plan, but in my confusion and frustration (at not being able to get a kortingskaart—discount card—b/c I didn’t have a picture) I messed up; I got there an hour later than planned because I took a later train and missed the once an hour bus to her town.  Oh well. The visit with Janny went well. She was very hospitable seeing as I had never met her before. She saw me once when I was four, but I don’t remember. We had tea and cake and lunch, we walked around the neighborhood, and she showed me all of my grandfather’s handiwork. He was a great painter and drawer. He also liked to build models of boats and ships from paper/thin cardboard. Janny had left his “craft” room just the way he left it 10 years ago. I was really lucky to be able to see his room. The visit was nice and I learned a lot about my family that I didn’t know. When I got home I was pooped. It was just an emotional overload. I wanted to quit when the train didn’t work out that morning, but I am glad I made it out to her house even if there were awkward times during the conversation. What do you expect if you have never met someone before?

To wrap up, yesterday—despite the rain—was a great day. I decorated a little for the Halloween spirit (even tough they don’t celebrate Halloween here), I got to talk to friends and family online, and I had a delicious piece of apple pie with my roomie!

There are always up and downs, but you have to focus on the ups and take action in order to keep from sliding down!

An Inconvenient Life

I don’t think you can possibly imagine how many times I’ve tried to write this entry. My laziness coupled with the inconveniences of Dominican life have made it seemingly impossible to do what I want to do when I want to do it!

For example, the wireless of PUCMM, the university I attend, goes out every night when I need to blog or Skype (call via internet) home. The electricity goes out a lot but only seems to go out when I need to use high voltage appliances such as a blow dryer or laptop. The water sometimes goes out (I didn’t know this was possible), and only when I want to wash my hair or when I am in dire need of a shower. The satellite goes out when it rains or storms and guess what, it rains just about everyday here!

But wait, the inconveniences do not end here. I have to walk to school through a selvita (a little jungle) and cross a major highway to get to school. Of course, this 15 minute walk is lovelier when I have to do it in 90 degree weather! Riding public transportation is also an inconvenience. Conchos or pubic cars are the only way to get around Santiago without taking a taxi. Most of the conchos are Toyota Corollas or other subcompact cars designed to carry a MAXIUM of 5 people, but are filled to the brim with 8 to 9 people! I remember the first time I rode in a concho, half of my body was out of the window and the other half of my body was on another passenger in the car. It was definitely an exhilarating ride. The greatest inconvenience of all, I must say, is how Off (mosquito repellant) has become my new fragrance of choice. Dominican mosquitoes love foreign blood, therefore I wear Off all the time!

I point these out, not to complain, but to demonstrate how much this place, my new home, has made me so appreciative of things in America that I never really think about. As a matter of fact, I went to Washington DC last weekend and it was thoroughly too convenient. The wireless, electricity, water, and satellite in the hotel I stayed in worked all the time; there were no interruptions in service. The weather was extremely cold and I didn’t see any mosquitoes. There were crosswalks and drivers actually obeyed traffic signals! Everything was too orderly and convenient and boring.

On my plane ride back, I began to realize how much I love this place.  The ‘inconveniences’ that I face on a daily basis are not necessarily inconveniences but breaks in the monotony of this thing we try to control so much, life. Inconveniences or not, I love my new inconvenient home, La Republica Dominicana!

Regina

El Campo

     After returning from the United States, I wasn’t two days in Bolivia when my whole world was completely changed. I got back and found out I would be traveling to the campo (rural Bolivia) the next day. It is pretty much the exact opposite of everything we know in the United States. I had great difficulty the first few days because I could not process anything. I couldn’t get my mind to slow down from its normal 500 mph pace. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I didn’t want to be there and how bad I really wanted to be back home.  The days were very long because there was a great deal of free time. I had to learn how to be still and how to make my mind stop thinking that there is something I have to be doing or should be doing. It wasn’t until I sat on the side of a mountain and took my focus on myself that I could finally be still.
     There are many things that I did this past week that I didn’t think I would be writing about. This past week, I cut grass for a bed, pulled around big bulls and helped tie them to a plow, planted onions, scaled and crossed mountains (yes that is plural), lived in a dirt floor adobe house, drank water from a hole in the ground where the cows stood and grazed two feet away, ate enough potatoes to kill someone and walked among the clouds. This was probably one of the hardest weeks of my life.  Many of you who know me and know how clean of a person I like to be would be very proud. I wore the same pair of jeans for five days in a row, didn’t bathe nor shave at all, and ate from dirty dishes. I did brush my teeth everyday so no worries there. It was a struggle but I got through it. My host mom cooked on a stone slab and washed all the dishes with the water from the hole.  I just praise God that I never got sick once and stayed healthy the whole entire time. That always makes things better.
     The third day, I went to una posta (a center of health) to spend a little time with the nurse there and see what healthcare in the campo was like. Again, my day was filled with oodles of free time. We only saw two patients and there wasn’t anything else I could really do there. I read every poster in the center and all about SUMI, the Bolivian healthcare program for pregnant mothers and infants. My ride back to my house was supposed to pick me up at 4:00 PM but he didn’t come until 6:00 PM and then we went around to all these other houses where students lived so I didn’t return to my house until around 8:15 PM. It was a very long day but good nonetheless.
     The final days were some of my better days. There was a small abandoned church that I found very near to my house that I would sit on and just admire everything around me. I worshiped, sang, wrote, and just listened to everything around me. The sky was a hue of blue I have never seen. Something Crayola could never come up with. The mountains created a spectacular view with the clouds highlighting the skyline. The clouds covered the mountains like a shawl. The wind was blowing and you could hear the trees joining in the chorus that the birds were singing. The sun was so warm on my face and it was just a beautiful time to enjoy creation. This was my favorite spot where I would sit for hours at a time. I kept coming back here during my last couple of days. I was even able to just sit and watch the sun go down and watch the sky change from colors of blue, to orange, purple, yellow, and red.
        In looking back on everything, that first couples of days were miserable and so incredibly difficult but I believe that if I didn’t go through them I would not have been able to really appreciate the final days of my visit. Sometimes you have to go through the valley to stand on the mountain. It was cold, wet, and windy many days but the days that the sun poked through the clouds were incredible. I wouldn’t trade sitting for a couple of hours on the top of that church for anything. It was an awesome time of just thinking, reflecting, and praying. It is something I wish we understood more in the United States, Just stopping everything and being still. My host brother always told me that “life is normal here” and I realized that I was so far beyond his idea of normal but I liked many parts of his concept. I do hope I can learn from this and take that time to really be still once I return to the states.

Independence Day "Week"

Hola a todos!  Wow, it has been an incredibly long time since my last (and only) post.  For everyone who was worried, I'm still alive and kickin' here in Vina del Mar, Chile, haha.  I've been here for almost two and a half months and experienced so many great things I don't even know where to start.  I remember during one of our first orientation activities that a coordinator gave us the wise and insightful advice to not  only experience and live here as foreigners or visitors, but to consider ourselves citizens of Vina del Mar.  Now that I  am completely settled in and comfortable, I am starting to feel less like an intercambio, and more like a citizen of this great place.

The academic culture here in my university, La Catolica, and Chile in general, is so different from anything that I have ever experienced in the United States.    One of the biggest differences here is the concept of punctuality.  It is not uncommon for students to stroll into class ten to thirty minutes late on a regular basis.  On top of that if a student feels inclined to leave class early they just get up a walk out.  This took a while for me to get used to and at times is a distraction to me in the classroom.  Also, there is no cap or limit on the amount of students in some classes.  In one of my favorite classes here, Greek Mythology, there are literally fifteen to twenty students who have to sit on the floor because the class is so full.  Most professors have no attendance policy, so at times in the same class there are a decent amount of empty seats.  The professors don't use text books in class because they are so expensive, so usually it is up to the students to obtain and make photocopies of the readings for the class.  The few tests and papers that I've had have gone well, but there are still certain classes that I still have no idea how I'm going to be evaluated in.  All in all, I am enjoying being challenged in class and improving my Spanish listening and communication skills in La Catolica.

The independence day of Chile is September 18th and they definitely take their celebrating seriously.  For that entire week classes were canceled so a few friends and I decided to rent a car and take a road trip to the northern part of Chile to a place called San Pedro de Atacama (San Pedro de Atacama).  We left the Thursday before the independence day "week."  The trip was incredible.  In car it took about 17 hours to get there so my companions and I got to know each other a lot better.  Atacama is the second driest place in the world so of course there were countless miles of desert.  What was so interesting though was seeing the contrast between the beach and the desert.  The beach and desert are literally joined with no barrier in between which doesn't happen in many places in the world.  While we were in Atacama one of my favorite activities that we did was sandboarding.  I'm not ashamed to admit I was a bit of a natural, haha.  We also visited some famous geysers that were in the area.  This part of the trip was fun, but since the altitude was so high I got a very serious case of altitude sickness that was not pleasant at all.  There were also natural hot springs there and we got the chance to take a swim in one of them. We had to leave at four in the AM to visit them when they are at their strongest point but even with the early departure and intense altitude sickness this was definitely a worthwhile part of the trip.  Another cool place that we went to was a place called Lake Chaxa.  This lake is in the middle of giant salt flat which is pretty cool.  What's even cooler is that this lake is inhabited by flamingos.  It was so random to drive through the desert then get to a salt flat with a lake full of flamingos.  This part of the trip was really neat. During the trip we stayed in hostels for a few nights and did some camping for the rest of the nights.  Overall, the trip was great and has been one of the best experiences that I've had here in Chile.

We got back from our trip on the 17th, the day before the major festivities started.  The majority of the people here go to big festivals called "ramadas" during the independence day celebrations.  However, some Chilean friends and I decided to go to a small, rural town called Olmue and stay there for a few days to celebrate.  This was a great time and I was glad to be able to spend some time away from my American friends.  Some of my Chilean friends even tried to teach us the national dance, La Queca, that is performed during the independence day weekend.  However, that didn't go over too well, it's a really tough dance ha.  This weekend was fun but when I returned home I was glad to be able to rest from the last exhausting week and a half.

All in all, I have definitely enjoyed the last two and a half months that I have spent living here in Chile.  The experiences that I've had have been amazing and I am definitely looking forward to the next two months...hopefully I'll post more often ha.  Chau!

Justin

A night in Iepers, Belgium

As the rain came down harder, more people in our group grumbled. When we arrived in Iepers, Belgium for our class trip, the sky above us opened up, began to spill out its contents and it hadn't run out of supplies yet.

The rain hardly fazed us when we first arrived. We were too busy hunting for authentic Belgian waffles and making ourselves sick from all the chocolates we ate. But as night began to fall, we all noticed as the puddles grew larger and as the cold wind grew sharper and cut through our jackets. The weather was miserable, and we were in no mood for learning.

Despite our need to be inside, warm and maybe sipping a Belgian hot chocolate, we were at the Menin Gate Memorial. Though we had visited early in the day and learned its significance -- it holds the names of 55,000 British and Commonwealth soldiers whose bodies were never recovered in World War I -- we couldn't quite understand why we were back, especially in this weather.

We had already visited the In Flanders Field Museum, located in the middle of Iepers main square. There, we not only found the rest of John McCrae's moving poem, but we learned what the war really was, especially in Ieper. Here, in this Belgian town, British and German troops -- along with some French, Canadian and New Zealand soldiers -- had fought perpetual battles in the muddy fields. If they didn't perish in the battle or disappear into the mud, they lived the life of the trenches, a condition that wasn't much more favorable.

As wrong as it was, all these soldiers' sufferings slipped out of our heads as we suffered ourselves in the rain. It was only when I almost slipped in a mud puddle myself that I realized how fitting it was -- that we should be in Iepers on such a terrible night. While we had umbrellas and jackets to cover ourselves, these soldiers just sank lower in the trenches and prayed the rain would stop. While we knew that we had a home to return to -- either our hostel, back to London or back to America -- they didn't know if they would ever return to the place they considered home. In fact, some of them suspected they would never see that beloved place again.

And it wasn't just those soldiers that suffered. Those who knew them suffered as they waited for their boys to come home, or at least for their bodies to be discovered.

We finally realized that we hadn't just returned to the Menin Gate for another look around, but we had come to witness "The Last Post" -- a ceremony that has taken place every night at 8:00 p.m. in Iepers since the year 1928. Even tonight, a night in which no one could want to venture outside, hundreds of people came to witness this ceremony. Family members or fellow school mates of lost soldiers came to remember their brothers. They all brought red poppy wreaths as a tribute to the soldiers; the poppy became a symbol during the war of the soldiers -- to some it represents courage, to others, suffering. Local officials sounded their bugles and the crowd grew silent, watching as each group walked forward and placed their wreath against the Menin Gate.

The rain continued to fall during the ceremony. Even though we were under the Menin Gate, water fell through the three large holes at the top. But, even as a shivered, I was glad it rained in Iepers. If nothing else, our group got the tiniest taste of what these young men suffered.

Texel! An island adventure!

We had an excursion to Texel this past weekend with IES! Texel is reclaimed land (used to be underwater) to the north of Amsterdam. We took multiple modes of transportation to get there: Bus, train, bus, Ferry, bus, Hostel! It was really exciting! The ferry was my favorite. I was expecting a small boat with a covered area where we would sit, but our ferry to Texel was giant with multiple floors and a café inside! It felt like a twenty minute cruise! We traveled by night and reached the Hostel despite the wet, windy weather. The “Stayokay” hostel was really nice…especially compared to the one I stayed at in Utrecht! This one had key card access into the rooms, a whole cafeteria, and a bar/lounging area: very cozy! However, we ventured back out into the night to see that small town and find some snacks. We went to a traditional eet (eat) café that serves all kinds of fried snacks, and then socialized in the hostel lounge area when we got back.

Saturday we got up early for breakfast before heading into town for some shopping. Breakfast consists mostly of assorted breads with assorted toppings-from honey or jelly to ham and cheese. My favorite though is Hagelslag! You butter a piece of bread and then cover it with delicious chocolate sprinkles! Mmmmm!

The town was very happy! It wasn’t really touristy but there were still a lot of people out and about. We went into the bread shop, the cheese shop, the wool shop, and two candy shops but we also went into Hema, which is an everything store. I bought a Jip en Janneke book at Hema. It is a collection of short stories about best friends that have lots of adventures together and het is heel leuk! (it is really cute)

In the afternoon we went out to sea on a shrimping expedition! Several people from our group get motion sickness so they took Dramamine before we “set sail” but I found the rocking quite fun! It was really windy and cold but it was too much fun not to enjoy.  When they pulled up the shrimping net, I was a little surprised to see the small catch, but I guess that is they way it goes. Everyone on board (and there were a lot of people) gathered around the catch while the “Shrimp Man” told us about it. He showed us several different fish that typically get caught in the shrimping process and made lots of jokes. He spoke in Dutch mostly but translated a little into English. At one point he told everyone (in Dutch) about this Sea Scorpion that you can’t eat because of its poison barbs, but then he told us in English that we should eat it!  Very humorous! They had a separator machine on board that took out everything that wasn’t shrimp and threw it back in the ocean. The seagulls followed the boat the whole way hoping to catch some of these stray fish. The shrimp, however, went straight to boiling water so that everyone could eat some. After shrimping we were ready to warm up and IES had a delicious evening meal planned for us. We went to the Schouten Huys and had a three hour long meal: Appetizer, dinner, dessert, and coffee after. I got a wonderful salad with ham as the base and cubed cheese for my appetizer and oven roasted goat cheese with assorted nuts drizzled with a honey sauce for dinner! For dessert we had a sampler plate with a brownie, a scoop of apple pie flavored ice cream, a small cup of frozen sangria, and whip cream with a Dutch cookie. And then I finished off with a cup of hot chocolate and a Texel shaped cookie! Amazing!

Sunday was a little drearier! It poured all day and was very windy. We went to the Seal care center and saw them feed the seals! The seals made a really funny sound like they had been smoking for a long time. One of the seals was blind and slapped his fin on the water to ask for fish. When there were no more fish, the lady dumped the bucket of water on his head so that he would know! After that we traveled back to Amsterdam where it was also rainy. That night was the perfect night to curl up with a book! And that’s just what I did! I joined Jip and Janneke on there adventures!

The theme of this post is "Studying Abroad is Awesome!"

This experience just gets more and more fun, and I don't even know where to begin!  So hi everyone.  This time my first picture for you is not food, but a giant walking, water-spewing mechanical elephant (I know, it's amazing).  It is the main attraction at this place in Nantes called "Les Machines de l'Ile," which consists of a menagerie of large mechanical animals, with a Tim Burton-ish kind of feel.  You can actually pay to ride the giant walking elephant, and it is my goal to do so when I have the time.

The Elephant in action:

It is seriously impressive.

This weekend was really action-packed, starting on Friday afternoon with a visit to my first ever Ikea.  Here it is- the Ikea in France:

Ikea might be one of the most amazing stores I've ever seen.  The funny thing, though, was that we were English-speaking Americans in French-speaking France, in a store with Swedish labels.  It was too bizarre!

This may  not sound possible, but the weekend actually got a whole lot cooler after Ikea.  Right now, the largest "Trimaran" ever constructed is in France- the Banque Populaire V, and this weekend was a big party to celebrate it.  A Trimaran is essentially a type of sailboat with three hulls (I think that would be the English word- all my sailing terminology is in French).  This one is as large as the Arc de Triomphe- around 40 meters tall, and the fastest boat of its kind in the world.  It was christened on Saturday night, with a great fireworks show and a concert, but the festival lasted all day.  Pictures from that are here:

My boat-visiting buddies- L-R: Paul, Jane (from the last post) and Rachel.

Here's the boat itself.  I couldn't get all the mast in and still demonstrate the proportions of the thing- it's huge: see the people?

The whole party atmosphere at night was absolutely amazing.  There were around 5000 people there, and all the activity is impossible to put into words.

Sunday morning, I went to one of the three protestant churches we seem to be able to find with MinSoo (who is from South Korea) and Jane.  Everyone has been really welcoming, and our main friend, Olivier, is really nice about introducing us to people.  After the service, we were invited to stay for lunch with the rest of the congregation.  It was a family-style meal, with passing of plates, and the men at our table filling everyone's glasses with wine or water, and, as usual in France, the meal was really good!  There were these cheese and vegetable-stuffed tomatoes, and the dessert was pistachio ice cream with a whole cooked pear all covered in chocolate sauce... amazing.  Unfortunately for me, I did not enjoy the main dish (although Jane and MinSoo did).  It was something very traditional involving Liver, applesauce, and mashed potatoes.  Jane and MinSoo thought that it was great, but for me, the texture was kind of weird.  It's ok, though, because Jane took care of mine :).

Even better than the food, however, was the company.  Olivier sat with us, and another couple sat down, and when Olivier introduced us to them, the woman said (in perfect English), "You're from America? I'm an American!"  We were completely thrown for a loop, but then she explained about how she came to France as a Fullbright Fellow, and met her husband in the University restaurant.  They now live in Versailles, and her husband Francois proudly informed us that thay have "almost" 9 grandchildren.  We had a great talk with them, and at the end, Marge (the wife) invited us to stay with them if we go to Versailles.

My amazing weekend finished with (yet another) amazing meal, this time, with my host family, who had invited a seminary student from the Seychelles to eat with us.  In accordance with French custom, we sat around before dinner and drank aperitifs, specifically, Kir, which is a mixture of white wine and (I think) a blackberry liqueur.  The U.S. really needs to import that one.  My host mom is an amazing cook, so the food at dinner was beyond belief.  But, as usual, a sizable portion of dinner conversation consisted of my host brothers picking on me, and me attempting (in my limited French) to retaliate.  The frequency of my success in retaliation is steadily increasing.

In all honesty, I really love the fact that my host brothers feel comfortable making fun of me like that, because it makes me feel more like a part of the family.  It's the kind of thing that reminds me how similar my host family is to my American family.  I don't think I could have asked for a better placement than the one I have.  Thomas, my youngest host brother (16) likes a lot of the same music that I do.  Thibaud, my middle brother (19) is funny, and alternates between picking on me relentlessly and being really friendly and chatty (also, he's really good about correcting my French, which I love). And

Stéphane, my oldest brother is surpremely helpful with whatever I need (including trying to fix my wifi when it decides that it no longer wants to work).  Also, I think Stéphane understands my challenges here, since he spent a year studying abroad in Australia

This weekend was also really great for cool pictures, which I promise to put up very soon.  You can check out all my pictures at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/danielle.has.pictures

Un remolino

      The real question is “where do I even begin?” I haven’t been able to write for the past two weeks but that is because I haven’t exactly slowed down enough to even begin to reflect on what has been happening . Two weeks ago, I headed to Potosí, Bolivia. It was a beautiful town seated at about 14,000 ft. At one point in time, it was the richest and most populated city in the world, but time has taken its toll on this exploited city.  There is a mountain in Potosí called Cerro Rico, it is known as the mountain that eats men. It is estimated that over 8 million people have died in the mines at Potosí. The tragedy that really struck me was that there are children working in these mines. Currently it is estimated at approximately 500. Working in the mines equals a life with no future. The only future is early death. Most miners die at the age of 35 or 40 from a disease called Silicosis or earlier from an accident. There are children who are 12 years old taking on the roles of their fathers. Even their brothers and sisters call them Papá. I don’t believe any 12 year old should be forced to take on the responsibilities of an entire family.  He should be in the cancha playing fútbol with his friends or in a classroom learning math, science, and literature.  The only reason these kids work in the mines is because there is no other work. They barely make ends meet on mining impure silver, zinc, tin, and other minerals. Most of it has been picked over and not much is left.  I wish there was something I could do, but for now understanding will have to suffice. The government is going to have to do some radical things if it wants to ensure the future of its people in this paradoxical city of beauty and ugliness.
    Towards the end of my trip to Potosí was able to relax in an Incan hotspring. I covered myself in mud and swam where the Incan emperor would have come and bathed. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen because as I was swimming, I looked out under a vast canopy of endless clear blue skies, and a majestic skyline of nothing but mountains. The mountains do not possess the beauty that we would expect, but it is something very different. The dirt, rock, and clay reflected the harsh sunlight to give off a reddish color. Every mountain had layers of different colors like that of an earth-made rainbow. As I gazed out over the horizon, I realized I was swimming in history. It was incredible to experience something so beautiful.
    As I returned to Potosí to travel to Sucre, I received a phone call that was anything but good news. I found out my grandfather had died somewhat suddenly. I was incredibly stressed to figure out how in the world I was going to get back home and make it to the funeral in time. We called the airlines and there were no flights directly out of Bolivia but the SIT secretary worked her magic and found one. First, I had to take an eleven-hour bus ride (and that is not a mistype) from Sucre to Cochabamba. I have never been shaken that much at one time, I thought I was going to come apart at the seams.  I didn’t sleep at all because no matter what position I found myself in, I was shaken out of comfort. Once I arrived in Cochabamba my flight took me to Santa Cruz, then to Asuncion, Paraguay, then to Sao Paulo, Brazil, then to Miami, and finally to Charlotte. My trip totaled around 40 continuous hours. My parents came to pick me up and we headed to little Clinton, SC. I must say it was very sad but looking back on it all, I know I made the right decision. Jesus took care of me every step of the way. The bus ride may have been awful but it was there that God let me know that I was going to have to speak at my grandfather’s funeral. I wasn’t 10 minutes in Miami when I called my mom and she told me that the pastor had asked her if I wanted to speak. I knew my answer. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life, but I knew it was something I had to do.  I must also add that I do believe I have some of the greatest friends in the world. At the funeral, there was a whole row of them sitting there. They even came to the house to eat afterwards and it did wonders for my heart and spirit. Some even drove down from Wofford to Columbia just to sit and visit. It was incredible and I can’t thank them enough. During my whole time at home, words often failed to express the true feelings and emotions that I was experiencing. Sometimes, I wonder if they are really meant to be expressed in words. It kind of takes away from what they really are and how powerful they can be. I just know I had some awesome people giving me all their support to help keep me up in this hard time. It was great to see my family and sleep in my own bed for a few days, but I knew that I had to get back. My trip back to Cochabamba was the same at getting home, minus the eleven-hour bus ride. I had a lot of trouble with my Visa because it expired the day before I got back but I am here now and back to busy. I get to spend the next week in the campo (rural area of the city) and learn a ton more there. That should make for an interesting blog.
    All in all, these past two weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions, experiences, and trials that one blog entry could never contain. I have discovered what true friendship is and how to cope with the sudden tribulations that life throws our way.  I am still processing a great deal and it may be sometime before I truly understand everything that I have been through, but I guess that will just make for another blog entry. ☺ Life is what it is, but Jesus has been with me every step of the way.  Returning home to be with my family was the right thing to do and I don’t regret it in the least. It was sad but an incredible experience nonetheless. It makes coming back a little difficult, but there is no time for sitting down, there is a whole country to explore!