Silly Souvenirs

November 7, 2011

We all do it. Every tourist, every abroad student — we buy things as souvenirs we would never buy in our own country.

Consider a postcard… In America, you see a postcard of the Statue of Liberty or the Liberty Bell, and you think, “Ha, why would I pay a dollar for a picture I could take myself? Obviously, no one mails postcards… what is this, the stone age?” Postcards, despite being clearly made obsolete by various technological channels of communication, are still made because they are cheap and because they are the ultimate tourist trap.

I feel pretty confident in saying this because I, too, am a giddy, interested, stupid tourist whenever I see postcards abroad. I currently have a postcard from just about every city I have traveled to this semester. Postcards of Big Ben in London, the Duomo in Florence, the majestic Danube River, and the state building in Budapest, to name a few. I don’t know what it is, but when we see a postcard from a new place, it suddenly takes on a whole new meaning — from a floppy piece of cardboard in our hand to a portal that reminds us of an experience that we treasure and enjoy. It triggers the memory in the back of our brain and makes us feel like we are there, remembering the experience, just as excited as ever.

In addition to postcards, we will willingly overpay for anything that makes us feel like we are part of the home culture. Recently, I bought an Italian soccer jersey in Milan, as well as 2 Italian soccer scarves, because to me, they were inherently Italian. Uniqueness is a big thing for souvenir buyers, as we find that anything we could not readily purchase in our home country is something we must buy immediately (Haven’t any of us heard of the internet?).  Everything from watches in Switzerland, to fish and chips in London… anything we see that we identify as being unique to where we are visiting, we go crazy for. (You should have seen how much stuff I bought at the Guinness Factory in Dublin. My bank account trembles just thinking about it).

The real reason that we tourists spend money, however, is that everyone wants to feel as though they connected with the culture that they experienced. It comes in different degrees, based on the length of your journey, obviously, but in some way, a true tourist or world traveler wants to do something that identifies them with the country at least once while they are there. Whether that is eat at an authentic cultural restaurant, buy authentic cultural attire, or attend an authentic cultural event, we search for an experience we have never had before in a place we have never been. After all, we do always covet things we have never had.

The next fun souvenir topic, and probably the most important, is mastering the souvenir gift. This can be tricky, and I have already had some trouble with this myself. The truth is, we generally have a lot of souvenirs to buy,  in order to avoid the classic reaction of “Why did she get one, but I didn’t?” This also means that we can’t buy something too expensive for everyone, or we won’t be able to pay for dinner at the authentic cultural restaurant we already made reservations for a month and a half in advance. (We tend to get very prematurely excited about our trips.)

So how do you find something that is unique to the place you’re visiting, unique to the person you are giving it to, not too expensive, and is something they might actually want? … It’s almost impossible, and I feel like that last criteria gets overlooked most of the time. While hopefully the trend of t-shirts and other things saying “My (fill in generic family member title here) came all the way to (fill in place you are traveling here) and all I got was this lousy (fill in name of useless item here)” is dead and gone, there are still plenty of worthless souvenirs to go around.

While for a normal gift, our biggest concern in getting something is “Do I think they will like it?,” that seems to be the farthest concern from the mind of a souvenir gift buyer. Realistically, how many of us have gotten souvenir gifts and never looked at them again? Probably 90 percent of us. But it isn’t even the souvenir buyer’s fault– it is the system’s fault. We are obligated to buy gifts, and the stuff we have to choose from is stuff no one would ever want! It is inevitable that these gifts will be presented to less-than-thrilled family members. But it is the thought that counts, right? So remember, as you go to purchase that Swedish snow globe, or if you are receiving a“I heart Madrid” keychain — giving a bad souvenir gift is still always 100 percent better than giving no gift at all.

So as we all waste our money on these items of uselessness, let us remember that:

1. We are stimulating the economy of the country that is so graciously hosting us, and
2. To embrace this practice, as it is simply part of being a tourist. Enjoy your junk! I know I will.

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Oh Yeah, That School Thing.

November 1, 2011

Going abroad is quite an experience. It is, however, grounded by that one thing that actually got you here in the first place — school. Living in a foreign country and traveling may be the most exciting aspect to studying abroad, but there is still work to be done. Up until this point in my blog, I have really neglected to talk about anything school-related, so here I go.

I am about a month and a half into my stay here, and the schoolwork is coming in at full force. While preparing to go abroad, I heard many times that the teaching style in Europe is very different, and that final grades are often determined by a single exam or paper. This is true in many cases, but my field of study dictates something much different. I am taking three design modules (what we call classes) that are largely computer based. At Richmond, they are transferring in as Studio Art credits. In these type of classes, work is constantly due. Whether it be sketches, print-outs, or final pieces, the module coordinators (or professors) keep you working. In this case, final grades are earned from turning in all revised coursework at the end of the semester. I like this method of teaching because, after a critique, I am able to apply changes to the final product that is turned in.

One fault I have with the university system here is that classes only meet once a week for about 4 hours. The idea is to give students ample time for independent work, but I would much rather learn from a professor and gain experience in the classroom. This is part of studying abroad, though — learning different ways of doing something.

Although the classes are set up differently, I am finding them extremely interesting and beneficial. I am learning computer programs that I probably wouldn’t have used back at Richmond. In my Animation course, we are learning to animate scenes using Adobe Flash. When we get further along with the course, I will post an animated video on my blog. I am also taking a Graphic Design module in which we use InDesign, Photoshop, and Illustrator quite a bit. This week we critiqued a poster design brief (what we call a project). Here is a picture of my class’s posters:

My most challenging class is 3D modeling. We are learning a program called 3D Studio Max. Designers use it for character and product design. Imagine a scene in a video game — it was probably created in this program, or a program like it. It is engaging material, but definitely a little more difficult to understand. I still have over a month until my final projects are due, so I think I will get a handle on it!

I have been spending a lot of time in the Learning Resource Center (basically a library — reminds me of exam week last year!) to get work done. My advice would be to get most of your work done during the week so you are free to explore during the weekends! I made sure to get everything done this week because Halloween is Monday, and they do Halloween big here — I’m talking thousands of people, costumes, parades, and fireworks. My next post will definitely be about this event!

Fun Fact #7: While living here in Derry, I have learned that people are not expected to tip. You don’t tip taxi drivers, you don’t tip waitresses, and you don’t tip at the bar. I have to say that I am a fan of this cultural difference!

Fun Fact #8: Shelled peanuts are called monkey nuts. People generally don’t eat peanut butter although it is sold in stores (doesn’t taste the same as good ol’ Jiff). Jell-O is called jelly. Jelly is called jam. And most people haven’t heard of a PB&J.

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I’m Getting Too Old For This

October 31, 2011

Flashback:

Before I went to Richmond, back in the good old days of my prime, I used to do Taekwondo. And this wasn’t just your normal, calming, finding your center, peaceful and beautiful Taekwondo. This was training for hours a day, grab some shin guards and a mouthpiece, jump in a ring and have six minutes to go all-out karate-kid on the person in front of you Taekwondo.

In high school, this was my sport and my passion. We were a team that traveled across the country together, trained together, won together, lost together and cheered for each other every chance we could. Unfortunately, when I left that summer in August for Richmond, I knew that I would be saying goodbye to a huge part of my life and some very important people. I knew Richmond didn’t have a Taekwondo club, and though I was ambitious to start one, I never quite found the time. But when I came to Melbourne to study abroad, I heard of a Taekwondo club here.

Believe me, I was skeptical at first. I knew it would be nothing like my own Taekwondo dojang back home. Actually, some part of me was reluctant to go at all. I think that somewhere inside, I wanted to preserve the pure memories I had from high school and avoid the risk of contamination that would occur if this new club failed to meet my expectations. But, through a series of unfortunate events that left me without a laptop, extracurricular activities and a social life, I decided I would check this Taekwondo club out.

I showed up on that Tuesday, and found it to be the calming, finding your center, peaceful and beautiful Taekwondo I wasn’t looking for. Five minutes after going to that first class and introducing myself to all these people who were eager to meet me, I knew I wouldn’t be going back. However, some good did come out of it. I had discovered that there was a more competitive advanced club that met on Wednesdays and Fridays. It sounded more like what I was looking for, but I couldn’t be sure. Still, it couldn’t get any worse than this– or at least that’s what I told myself.

I went to that Wednesday training, and to my amazement, it was so nostalgic. The stretches were the same, the drills were the same, and even the atmosphere was similar. Despite the fact that my legs were so sore the next day that I couldn’t walk… in fact, because my legs were so sore the next day that I couldn’t walk, I knew that I would be going back twice a week, every week. In the first five minutes of that class, I knew I had found exactly what I was looking for, and that, even though the semester was halfway over, I would make friends that would change my study abroad experience.

Flash Forward:

Gold Coast, as much as it was an opportunity for a break from schoolwork, was also an opportunity to compete in the Australian University Games. I had been training for the last two months to compete, and maintaining a lower weight than normal in order to compete in a weight class more suited to my strengths. It was just like old times. So, while I went to places like Pancake Paradise with my friends and they chowed down pancakes piled high with whipped cream and maple syrup… I nibbled on a slice of pineapple, half a tomato, toast, and the green leafy decoration stuff it came with. Still, I was happy.

I got to the tournament with the Taekwondo team who came later that week, and I could not wait for my first match. I was fighting in the same black belt division I used to, and I heard there was some very good competition. I even heard there was an Olympic-level fighter whom everyone was talking about. When I was finally called to fight, I discovered that, out of all the fighters, the Olympic-level fighter was my first match…and that he was about six inches taller than me. Even so, I was confident. I used to fight guys like these all the time. It was no big deal. I walked into the ring for the first of three two-minute rounds.

Now, in my last blog entry, I told you that Gold Coast was loaded with extraordinary adventures filled with panic and crisis. And, because I am a man of my word, here it is. After the first minute of that round, I was already tired. After the first minute and thirty seconds, I was exhausted and just trying to catch my breath. Cutting weight had cut my stamina, and this guy looked like he was still warming up. I had been training for the past two months, but this guy had been training consistently for years. I trained twice a week. The days that he hadn’t trained in the past year probably didn’t even add up to two weeks.

It was at this point in my life, at the ripened age of twenty, that I finally understood what a “midlife crisis” was. I couldn’t just get up and try to fight these youthful people out of nowhere. This guy was not only in better shape than me, but he was also on a higher level. This is the point in my tale where I would like to introduce the panic and crisis. If any of you were, in fact, wondering where it was, no need to fear…I did that enough for all of us. But my pride, the thing that was the source of this “midlife crisis”, told me that I couldn’t just quit. No matter how tired, how defeated, I had to finish that match and do it in one piece.

Long story short, I finished the match. I lost pretty badly, but I walked off that mat with my own two feet and my head held high. I think, in retrospect, that match taught me a lot. As much as Taekwondo had always been about the competition for me, it was equally about those important people who I trained with. As I walked off that mat, I had a team of people to pat me on the back and praise my hard work. I had people to laugh with the next day as I watched the recorded video. I had teammates to cheer on to victory, even if I couldn’t reach it myself. Maybe, just maybe, when I get back to Richmond, I’ll find some time to start that Taekwondo club. You know what they say… better late than never.

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The Traveler’s Guide to Hitchhiking the Gold Coast

October 24, 2011

It was finally that time– the time that students worldwide wait for in anticipation. Well, it was the time that students worldwide wait for in anticipation, if you don’t include summer break. Okay, not including summer break and not including winter break, it is by far the most highly anticipated vacation of the academic year. And because things work quite differently in the southern hemisphere, it had come much earlier than expected. It was spring break.

I had made plans to go to the Gold Coast of Australia with two of our very own Spiders also studying abroad in Melbourne. We were staying at a place called Backpackers in Paradise, located in a neighborhood called Surfer’s Paradise, which happened to be walking distance from the beach. Sounds perfect, doesn’t it?  If a picture’s worth 1000 words, and this was picture perfect, how many words was Backpackers in Paradise worth? If you answered anything other than zero, unfortunately, you are incorrect.

Contrary to popular belief, modern forms of currency do not include payment in the forms of words or letters. After drifting away from the gold standard in the post World War II era, currency took the form of bills, commonly referred to as notes, and coins. Additionally, if expressions were measured in words, then speechless would equal zero. And speechless is what we were when we realized we would be living and sharing a bathroom with eleven other people, not including the three of us.

If you have never seen fourteen people share a bathroom together, it is nothing less than amazing. It requires both timing that is unheard of and an adjusting of sleep schedules that would equal forcing Dracula, a seven-year-old child, and a caterpillar in a cocoon to sleep at the same time. Surprisingly enough, we managed to rarely, if ever, have problems with the bathroom. Regrettably, we were not as fortunate in consolidating sleep schedules.

Regardless, the Gold Coast managed to live up to its name. The weather was incredible, people were at the beach everyday, and club promoters and their bargain deals had to be subdued with a two meter pole (preferably wooden, to mitigate permanent damage) with all the discounts and free coupons they offered. Additionally, the hostel we stayed at seemed to get new people every day. Students participating in the University Games (which I will explain in a later blog) came in dozens. How could this dream-like paradise possibly go wrong?

The second day at the beach, when we were well-rested enough to properly understand the grave mistake we had just made, we understood the grave mistake we had just made. We looked at one another in horror as we realized that no one had a football. The core of all beach-like activity was not present. We would be deprived of the pure foundation of waterside entertainment, American football. We quickly checked our backup, plan-B option. No Frisbee. We were doomed.

Then, as if it were a gift sent from above, we saw it. There, before us, was an American football in Australia. Long story short, we not only got to use the football, but we also made some new friends. Our day was a success, and those to come would be filled with panic and crisis. But, more on that next time.

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Posted by mikeinaustralia

Adventure Wednesday and Cinque Terre

October 24, 2011

As any college student knows, or any future college student will find out, having a good class schedule can make or break your semester.  In my experience, a higher number of early morning classes has a direct correlation to being unhappy most mornings, but also improves your productivity (when you’re up early, you have nothing better to do then be productive… or go back to bed). Also, the holy grail of class schedules for almost everyone is setting a schedule that gives you off on Fridays, as 3-day weekends are a college student’s best friend. Because I had to get courses that I knew would transfer credits back to Richmond, and because I had to take all of my classes in English (which gave me far less options), I could not be very creative with my schedule this semester. This, unfortunately, left me with the reality of two 8:45am classes, two classes that actually overlap on Tuesdays, and instead of Friday off, or even Monday, I have a day off on Wednesday…. Wednesday. What can you do with an off-day on Wednesday? You can’t take a long weekend, it splits your week in half completely, and is just generally unnecessary. But as I have done (or attempted to do) with most things on this trip that have seemed to not go my way, I turned it into a positive. This was done through the creation of Adventure Wednesdays, which is my brain child that is exactly what it sounds like. Every Wednesday… I go on an adventure. Whether in the city, out of the city, taking a train, plane, or automobile, I find something to do that will make a memory and create an experience (some positive, some negative).

As my test trial for Adventure Wednesdays, I decided to go to a place that tops many experienced travelers’ list of “must-see places” and now that you have heard of it (I hadn’t heard of it before I came), it should top yours. It is called “Le Cinque Terre,” or “The Five Lands.” In the Liguria region of Italy, Cinque Terre was a place I knew I needed to see. Most of my friends had already gone, and even though it was a little far (about a 3 hour train ride) I decided I would make the trip on my own, to uncharted lands, with no background knowledge, as a great way to kick-off Adventure Wednesdays.

To give you a minute-by-minute breakdown of my solo adventure would be both time consuming and long winded, so I suppose I will give you a plethora of highlights instead.

After a tram and metro ride to the train station, I missed my first train at 8:05am because of a malfunction with the ticket machine, delaying my departure  until 9:10am, the next available train. After an hour and a half, I switched trains in Genoa and had a lovely train ride along the western coast of Italy and the Mediterranean.  After reaching my train’s destination, I was told I needed to board a regional train that stopped at each of the 5 lands (Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare) but reached another snag when I boarded the incorrect train, headed in the wrong direction. After asking an elderly Italian woman (with my little Italian) where to go, I got off the train, only to find myself stranded in the nearby town of Moneglia because the next train to Le Cinque Terre would not be coming for over an hour. It turned out Moneglia wasn’t the worst place to get stuck in, and I had a wonderful lunch there while enjoying the small and beautiful town along the Mediterranean Sea.

Finally, I arrived in Cinque Terre, and started at the bottom of the 5 towns in Riomaggiore.

A leisurely 30-minute walk along cliffs over looking the sea brought me to the lovely Manarola. It might sound girly, but Manarola was definitely the cutest of the 5 lands.

Because of a rock slide, the hiking path was out between Manarola and the next of the five towns, Corniglia. Despite receiving warnings, I decided to see for myself, so I got to the edge of this cliff before deciding it was best to turn around.

Next was a train ride from Manarola to Monterosso al Mare (by far the biggest of the Cinque Terre, almost like a small city) which was full of tourists enjoying the beautiful restaurants and beaches. After walking through the city, I began a grueling 2 hour hike up steep stairs, rocks, and along cliffsides (without railings of any kind) to the most beautiful of the 5 towns, Vernazza.

With sore feet, out of breath, and sweat pouring down my face, after walking through trees and wildlife (very beautiful), I turned a corner to see a breathtaking view of this incredible city.  In what seemed like the middle of nowhere stood this city as beautiful as a painting that took my breath away and made the near torture of the last 2 hours more than worth it. A giddy 15 minute walk down to the city to get a closer look opened my eyes to the true atmosphere of Vernazza. Incredibly impressed and worn out, I decided to take a swim in the bay in Vernazza as I watched the sun set slowly over the Mediterranean, signifying the ending of a seemingly perfect day.  After grabbing a pizza in Monterosso, sadly without time to enjoy the glorious seafood restaurants of the area, I boarded the final train for Milan, capping off my first-ever Adventure Wednesday, which supplied me with memories that will truly last a lifetime. This solo adventure proved to be a rollercoaster ride, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. The imperfections and perfections combined to make it a perfect trip in my eyes, and to a place I would be extremely lucky to get to see again.

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Posted by johninitaly

Food For Thought

October 24, 2011

So, I am in Italy, quite possibly the birthplace of amazing food. Amazing, expensive food. If you have 15-30 euros to spend on dinner every night (roughly $25-45), you will eat like a king. You will think that America has been tricking you for your entire life and that only now have you discovered what food is truly supposed to taste like– like Columbus or Marco Polo conquering a new world with the greatest food imaginable.  However, the criteria for me being able to indulge you with my stories is that I need to be a college student, and generally, a basic characteristic of any college student is being broke. So needless to say, I can’t eat like a king every night, but on the rare occasions that I have, my taste buds were taken to a place far surpassing any previous level of enjoyment and satisfaction– a place they still long for when I bite into my cold pizza left over from the night before.

I have needed to find new ways to feed myself while saving money and still enjoying eating some delicious food. So early on in my trip, I took a trip down to the supermarket and walked around indecisively, looking for food that I could cook with my extremely limited cooking skills. We’re talking microwave pizza limited… actually, we’re talking a stove or an oven might as well be alien technology limited… but anyway, I decided I had to learn, or I would be broke and starving on the street come December.  I had been longing for red meat since my pizza and pasta Italian diet left me with a big hole in my usual diet, so I got 2 packaged steaks and put them in my basket. I decided then that I would be a little adventurous and try to add some flavor to the steak, which turned out to be best served by a small bottle of soy sauce located in the corner of the grocery store. So I walked back, proud of myself, and excited to begin my experimental cooking. I met my friend in one of the communal kitchens in our dormitory and we both tried to decipher the stovetop. It was an electric induction stove (much safer for dorm rooms, no gas or fire) and it took us 10 minutes to figure out how to turn it on.  We had to ask an Italian girl across the way that after a strange look walked in, pressed one button, and walked away with heat emitting from the stove. “Grazie mille,” (“Thank you very much,”) we said as she left, probably adapting the old adage, “How many dumb Americans does it take to turn on a stove?”

Our excitement was short-lived when we discovered the pan we put on the stove was not getting hot. That led to another 20 minutes of confusion and stress, my stomach growling, and us stupidly pressing every button to make it work. The Italian girl was gone, so with no more help from her, we found a manual for the stove… written in Russian, and we had no experience with something like this before. Frustrated and hungry, on the verge of giving up, we were about to be saved. My friend’s Italian roommate and his girlfriend came in to cook and saw us struggling. He was confused at first too, but after diagnosing the problem, he told us in broken English that induction stoves need induction pots and pans to work (duh). He happened to have some in his room he would let us borrow, and the four of us cooked and enjoyed our meal, them teaching us some Italian, and us teaching them some English. My soy sauce steak was actually quite delicious.

Since that run-in, I have had some more cooking struggles, with every time being a learning episode, but I am slowly becoming a world-class chef (self-proclaimed). I am getting more daring with my recipes, trying new foods, and I know that stovetop like the back of my hand.  When cooking gets boring, or if I haven’t made a supermarket trip in a while, I enjoy getting a kebab from one of the many places around the city (basically gyro meat in a sandwich or wrap that is insanely good), a salamella con tutto (a sausage sandwich with lettuce, tomatoes, onions, mushrooms, ketchup and mayonnaise, which I am basically obsessed with at this point) for lunch from the sandwich cart in the middle of campus, or I will spring for a 3 dollar pizza from my favorite hole-in-the-wall place around the corner where they always greet me with a friendly “Ciao caro” (“Hello, dear”).

I have come to greatly enjoy the food here, made either by myself or by others. And when I have some money saved up, I can always treat myself to a delicious four- or  five-course meal in downtown Milan. Adapting to my situation wasn’t quite smooth, but very effective, so it is always important to stay open minded and versatile… so I guess that, right there, is a little food for thought.

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Community, Globalization, and Tons of Trash

October 24, 2011

So many villages, so little space to write about them…  so I’ll keep up with the highlights principle.  The highlight of the Land unit was definitely Baw Kaew community.  It is a protest village where the people were kicked off of their land, and two years ago they returned and have built a community.  There were people from all different villages, and through the shared struggle and passion, they have created something unbelievable.  The grandmothers share their stories of being kicked off their land with the children, who will continue to fight based on the devotion.  This unit showed me that an outside force or a powerful figure is not needed for a successful grassroots movement.  Anyone and everyone has agency, and it just takes motivation and passion to create change.  It was a really moving exchange and experience.

My Paw from this unit, other than the two one-nighters, was incredibly educated.  I was sitting watching Meh cook one night when Paw came into the cooking area.  He sat down next to me, pen in hand, and started to lecture.  All in Thai, of course, but the essence of the conversation was, “Julie, do you see this papaya—we grow them in Thailand.  You don’t grow them in America, yet you are able to eat them in America.  That is just one reason why globalization is so amazing.”  The lectures continued and got more and more complex over the course of the three days. There was a lot of guessing based on what was said or drawn (one day he got out his grandson’s coloring book and drew for us—an upgrade to the hand), but it was all an amazing lesson on both communication and globalization.

After the unit ended, there was an optional trip to the landfill near our campus.  Just 17km away, 200 tons of trash is brought in each day.  There is a community of 60 families that live there, started by just one man who went to make a living off of the trash.  Not only does it bring to light the realization of scavengers (those who work 20 hours a day picking through garbage to find plastic bottles to recycle), but it brings to light the realities of consumerism.  I literally climbed a trash mountain.  Not to mention the irony of the laundry detergent package I saw in the mud that read, “Hygiene”.

I was so blown away by the Paw that we exchanged with there.  He no longer works in the landfill, nor does his wife and children, but he lives there because he owns his land and he wants to make the community a better place.  Unlike in America, where people strive to get out of the slums, Paw was trying to improve the village.  He chooses to live in a dump — literally.

The problems with each village we visit are hard to stomach.  With each unit and each exchange, I continue to recognize the realities of a developing country.  It is natural to make comparisons to the United States, and we have many of these issues.  We have medical problems associated with damming and mining (the coming two units).  We have poverty that is solved by cash cropping.  There are so many problems in our world.  This country is so amazing, and my time here is invaluable, but it is hard meeting amazing people and learning about their suffering, unable to fix it.

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Good Craic.

October 17, 2011

When visiting Ireland, it is essential to know the meaning of this expression. No, it’s not what you’re thinking, and I didn’t misspell anything. The noun craic basically means “fun” or “what’s going on”. Expressions such as “It will be good craic” or “What’s the craic for tonight?” are used often. And let me tell you, Derry is good craic.

Up until now in my blog, I have discussed my issues with traveling, as well as information I have learned about my new place of residence. Now it is time for me to let my hair down and talk about all the fun and excitement there is to be had – I mean, it is college for heaven’s sake. I am currently in the UK and, as many of you may know, the legal drinking age here is 18. This is by no means a reason to study here or even study abroad in general. It is just a fact that changes aspects about the college lifestyle. And by that, I mean it brings pubs into the picture.

Here in Ireland, pubs are a huge part of the culture. When walking in the city, you pass pub after pub after pub. There are hundreds of them and they are all packed almost every night of the week. I can only imagine the great economic impact these establishments have on the local economy. (They sure have an impact on the weight of my wallet.) Pubs are not places to drink too much beer and get wasted every night. They are places to gather socially — to catch up with friends and to listen to music together (and a lot of the time, it’s traditional Irish music). When explaining to some American students, an Irish woman actually made a comparison between Irish pubs and American coffee houses. They provide that type of atmosphere. So, it is no surprise that Irish students go to pubs, bars, and clubs 4 to 5 nights out of the week. Not to mention, there’s a uni bar with events every Monday and Thursday. This may seem impossible to an American student with class every day of the week and piles of homework. Here, the style of teaching is much different. Each module (or class) only meets once a week for a few hours and most students only take 3 modules. This allows for loads of free time in which students are expected to do the majority of work independently. It also allows time for us to get dressed up and go out during the week.

During my first weekend here, I had the great fortune of meeting an Irish guy, Tomas, who goes to school with me at Magee (that’s the name of my campus). I became friends with two American girls, Megan from Idaho and Lauren from North Carolina, during our week of orientation. On our first Friday night, we went to a pub where we ran into Tomas… see, a social atmosphere. Since then, he has introduced us to many of his Irish friends who we have been having great fun with. One thing I will always say about Derry after my trip is that the people here are ridiculously nice — so helpful and generous. It feels really nice to be accepted into a group of friends who have known each other since primary school (elementary to us). I definitely have met one of my goals: making friends with Irish students. Here’s a picture of Megan, Me, and Tomas at a club one night:

Through the process of having fun and creating a lifestyle here, sometimes I forget where I am. I have to sit and think a minute: wow, I am in Ireland; I am on a completely different piece of land than the one where I grew up and have lived my whole life. I can’t drive 20 minutes and go see my Ma and Da (Mom and Dad to Irish kids). I suppose this phenomenon is a positive thing; it means I am comfortable here and that it is becoming home. But sometimes the realization that I am not in America anymore slaps me across the face or literally rumbles the ground under my feet. One night this week, I was out shooting pool with some friends, having a normal night, when there was a loud bang and the ground shook. It was a bomb. Yeah, not in Virginia anymore.

The police had found a bomb in the City of Culture office and set it off as a controlled explosion. They barricaded the area so no one was injured. Here is a picture from outside the bar I was in when the explosion went off:

From what I have heard, a car was blown to pieces and the building was pretty damaged. What surprised me was the reaction of my Irish friends. They were so nonchalant about it. The explosion was literally a block away. They just looked out the window of the bar and continued on with our game of pool. Startled, my friend Lauren said, “Why the heck was there a bomb?!” Our Irish friend Brian simply replied, “It’s Derry.”  It makes me realize that, although it may not seem very different here, there are struggles going on that I will probably never face at home.

Fun Fact #5: In Ireland, the solid balls in pool are called “plains”.

Fun Fact #6: Exit signs are little green running men. You see them EVERYWHERE. Here’s a picture:

Leave a Comment » | Fall 2011, Julia in Northern Ireland | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by Quite Well

In The Jungle, The Mighty Jungle

October 17, 2011

Well, this time, it’s “the students sleep tonight”.  Part one of our second unit, Land, takes place in villages that have had recent struggles with their land.  Whether it is a protest village, a community that has recently returned to their land, or exchanging with the governmental agency that protects the forest, we are seeing all sides of land rights in Issan.  The journey started with a six hour van ride to a village just north of Cambodia.

Our van slowed to a stop at a group of houses, but we were told this was not our village.  We all loaded onto the back of a truck and headed into the jungle.  The Suan Ba, or forest, was through deep woods and the land had flooded recently- our vans would not make it.  Little did I understand flooding.  After community members finished nailing wooden boards as two longs rows of seats, we loaded up.  Thus began the most exciting hour long ride of my life.  Somewhere between rollercoaster and safari, we found ourselves on a real life version of a Disney World ride.

The village only got better.  It started with bananas hanging by a pole for us to eat at our leisure, then there was some wading through a river, an exchange, and then a slumber party of the whole group sleeping in the community “room”.  There was a light bulb, but no other electricity.  The exchangee was willing to answer all questions, so after our allotted time, questions were asked about Cambodia, the Vietnam War, and ended by talking about elephants. (We saw one while driving through the city, of all places, on the way home– just a baby walking on a leash led by a man down a busy street.)

We returned for the evening to meet the U.S. Ambassador, have finger food and mingle.  So it’s a nice relaxing evening, and then off to the next village! It has become a trend that at all villages, our host parents like to feed us a lot, and so I am a bit nervous for Yom Kippur tomorrow.  The Ajaans (teachers) know I am fasting, so they will explain it—hopefully it is understood as religious and not as an insult to their food, because village food is so delicious.

Leave a Comment » | Fall 2011, Julie in Thailand | Tagged: , , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by julieinthailand

Downtown Duomo

October 5, 2011

Downtown Milan is home to the Duomo (Church/Cathedral) di Milano, which is the 3rd largest Catholic church in the world. This place is stunning! The entire building is made of hand-carved marble, and the detail of it, combined with Italian inefficiency, took them almost 600 years to complete. Every inch of the building is carved with intricate details; sculptures of Saints, religious symbols… A true enthusiast could be entertained for days just admiring the masterpiece that is this building.

But you didn’t think I would actually write an entire blog about a church, did you?

Although short of the Vatican, this thing is the crème de la crème.

The main focus of this post is to describe the atmosphere in the Piazza (Square) in front of the Duomo. Milan is a cool city, and there is a lot going on all the time, but there isn’t much to see from a tourist’s standpoint. Which means that anyone traveling through the city on vacation, staying in the city for a business trip, visiting a son or daughter that’s studying abroad (my family), or even just people living in Milan who are bored all go to this one place– downtown Milan at the Duomo.

The downtown area as a whole has a great atmosphere. The streets are lined with shops and restaurants in the city center that make for great shopping (real shopping for most people, and window shopping for broke college kids). Some other attractions include the Castello, built in the 14th century (very old and cool to look at); La Scala, the famous opera house, which is filled with culture in the form of ballets and opera; and the beautiful Parco Sempione, which has everything from babbling brooks and nice footpaths, to basketball courts, to a library, and even a miniature go kart track for kids (only for kids, though… believe me, I tried).  In addition, the world renowned Galleria– an indoor/outdoor mall with some incredibly high end stores with prices that approach CEO housewife status– is a must see, even just if you buy a McFlurry (yes, they have a McDonald’s tucked in between Armani and Louis Vuitton) and walk through it admiring the architecture, along with the clothes and shoes that most of us normal people cannot afford.

However, the best thing to see is the Duomo itself, and as it turns out, my favorite thing to see has been the Piazza in front of the Duomo. This place is a people-watcher’s dream come true. Whether it is the street vendors selling useless stuff that you “need” to have (I have already made some solid purchases from these guys), the “Marochinni” looking to tie a “free good luck bracelet” to your arm as you walk by (which they will later pester you for money for), or the mass flood of tourists doing obvious cliché tourist activities (taking pictures, holding maps, etc… you know what I’m talking about), there is plenty to keep you entertained and busy. However, the most noticeable thing in the Piazza might be the pigeons. These crazy birds will swoop at your head from nowhere, so you need to watch out. I have seen locals with an unhealthy lack of fear walk up to these pigeons and pick them up without a flinch. They are everywhere! Some of the more brave, and in my mind, deranged tourists actually pay 50 cents to hold rice in their open hands and allow the flock of pigeons to eat straight from their hands…. It’s even more disgusting in person, trust me.

With the occasional event or concert in the Piazza, it is truly a local hangout because of its proximity to the most beautiful sites in all of Milan. Most recently in the Piazza, I attended a city-wide party located in the Duomo for the start of Milan’s “Fashion Week.” If you were in Milan, you were there, as shops everywhere offered free food and drink to all customers, with the city center decorated lavishly to promote the crown jewel of events for this fashion-driven city. In addition, the Piazza was home to the NBA (yes, the National Basketball Association) who sponsored a 3-on – 3 tournament for locals in the Piazza, as a way of promoting American basketball abroad.

At the end of the day, sitting and staring at the Duomo is awe-striking enough that at times, you can feel alone in the middle of this crazy atmosphere. Day or night (especially at night, because the stained glass windows light up and it is beautiful) the Duomo is spectacular. So, loyal readers, if you happen to be in Milan for a day, or week, or 4 months, make sure you take a trip downtown– all of the trams go to the Duomo, more or less. Walk around the downtown area, and conclude it with a trip to the top of the Duomo, which will allow you to see the city for miles straight from its center and enjoy the beauty of Milan from a whole new perspective.

Leave a Comment » | Fall 2011, John in Italy | Tagged: , , , , , | Permalink
Posted by johninitaly

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