Home is behind, the world ahead…

January 16, 2012

Hello there!  I’m Rebekah, and I am a junior geography major at the University of Richmond. I’m from Syria, Virginia, a small town in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  I love hiking, learning languages, archaeology, and Biblical history.  This semester, I will be studying at the University of Haifa in Haifa, Israel.  I was drawn to Israel because of its rich cultural, religious, and political significance in the world today.  Founded in 1948, the State of Israel is home to a wide variety of Jewish people with heritages from all over the world, as well as Muslims, Christians, and other religious sects, creating complex dynamics of culture and national consciousness.

A few weeks ago, I called the Israeli Embassy to ask about something on the student visa application that was confusing me.  The questions were in Hebrew, with English translations, and they were ordered like this:

Category of residence permit:                             Dates of previous stays in Israel:

I said to the receptionist who answered the phone, “I’m confused by this question.  Which ‘category of residence permit’ would a student visa fall under?”  to which she replied, after a moment’s pause, “See the question to the right, ‘dates of previous stays in Israel’? It is asking what category of residence permit you had during any previous stay in Israel.”

Oh, right.  I knew that.  Read the questions from right to left, just like the Hebrew language is read from right to left.  I have a feeling this won’t be the only time this confuses my Indo-European brain.

A popular travel saying goes, “when you pack, lay out all your clothes and all your money.  Then take half the clothes and twice the money”.  I keep reminding myself of that as I try to cram four months’ worth of clothes — for weather ranging from chilly and rainy to hot and dry, and for occasions ranging from dining at nice restaurants to backpacking in the Galilee — into one suitcase.

On Monday, the 23rd, I begin a Hebrew Ulpan, an intensive language program that will meet for five hours of class (with an expected three hours of homework) five days a week for the first three weeks of my time in Haifa.  Even though the intensity is a little intimidating, I am really excited at the prospect of completely immersing myself in a language, with no other classes to distract me.

My younger brother observed the other day, “Life is like a grapefruit.  It’s up to you how much you get out of it.”  I thought that was quite wise, and have adopted it as my motto for this trip.  I know I could take a passive approach to my time abroad, clinging as close as possible to what is familiar and comfortable, or I could actively immerse myself in the language and culture, seeking to gain as many experiences and life lessons as I possibly can in a few short months.  I want to squeeze this grapefruit for all it is worth.

Am I nervous? Maybe a little.  This won’t be my first solo international travel, but it will be the first without a familiar face to greet me at the other end.  But I am much more excited than nervous.  I’m excited about the people, the language, and the beautiful land with all the incredible spiritual significance it holds.

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Full Circle: Mai Pen Rai

December 21, 2011

With Bi Si (welcoming and goodbye ceremony strings in which locals bless you) strings on my left hand and an ocean to my right, how do I even begin reflecting on this experience? I am sitting on the beach in Koh Tao, staring out at the beautiful water forgetting that I am in Thailand still. It is the brief interactions with locals and long conversations with vendors in Thai that remind me of my experience. Or the exported food items on the menu that make me wonder how far they had to travel. It is the memories of my host families and the villages that come flooding back when I see bedding or mats. These are just a few of the moments that make this experience real. Otherwise it feels like a dream. A dream that I can’t forget in the morning, a dream whose lessons I must keep with me.

I am traveling with four of my friends from the program and we often find ourselves talking about goals for going home or how to explain our program in relatable terms. The list of 55 buzz words work well when talking to another group member, but to anyone else, space just means space. It does not make you laugh, cringe, or cry. I am struggling with how to explain my tears when someone says that word, or explain my frustrations and successes with “challenging appropriately”.  However, this experience would not be meaningful if I could not take it back with me, if I could not implement the lessons I have learned.

So what will I do? For starters, write down my lessons, quotes from NGOs, villagers, and government officials, and post them around my room. Keep a constant reminder of my growth and new knowledge. And for that knowledge, bring it back to UR. Not just the content, but my new outlook of what education means. We turned it into a joke here, the basis of our education model, “Took kawn ben ajaan.” Every person is a teacher. This program put it in the structure, we learned from each other as facilitators, villagers about their lives and development, journalists about politics, and everyone we encountered. I hope to share that lesson. One can learn a lot from the experts, but experience is unmatched. Lets just hope this plays out well in VA and NJ.

So, as for my first question prior to leaving… how do you say “no worries” in Thai? It’s mai pen rai. Meaning no problem, don’t worry about it. And just like I thought, it’s more than a saying here—it’s a lifestyle. It is a lifestyle I have now understood and adapted to. So adjustment back home will surely be difficult, but mai pen rai, its all a learning experience.

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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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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:

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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.

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Mai Chai Bouey Kem Me: Don’t Use Chemical Fertilizer

September 28, 2011

The food/agriculture unit homestay has come to an end.  These last six days were filled with excitement and unbelievable experiences.  I cannot share everything from this past week, but I’ll go over the highlights.

First stop, Roi Et province.  We stayed in a village that was in transition from non-organic to organic farming, so almost every family had pigs to make their organic fertilizer.  We got a tour of some farms, and they really tried to make it interactive.  So, I got to plant a banana tree!

Before heading to Yasothon province, the location of our last homestay of the unit, we stopped in Masaharaka to observe our future families protesting the use of chemicals in farming.  The speakers brought some to tears as they spoke of the horrors that have come as adverse effects, and the passion of these people to protect their livelihood was an unbelievable thing to watch.  Wearing green, just as the organic market they participate in is the Green Market, the street was flooded with signs and images of pesticides.  This peaceful demonstration showed more than just what chemicals can do—it showed the importance of community.  These individuals came together for a cause, and their community was shown through both the market and the signs floating down the street.

I loved my family at this homestay.  Paw and I were surprisingly able to communicate a lot,  so I got to learn about both his and Meh’s farming practices and lives.  Both have lived in the village their entire lives, and have been farming organically for 12 years now.  We took the tractor out to the farm and came back with a bounty of delicious treats.  A green papaya for Som Tom, a local dish, long beans, peanuts, sugar cane, okra, and my favorite—passion fruit.  I got to learn about the different type of rice that he grows, and then that day we stayed up late and helped prepare for the market.  Weighing peppers, sorting veggies, carrying coconuts, and watching as Meh prepared the banana snacks—coconut and rice wrapped in banana leaf.  We woke early (4:00) to meet our parents at the market, and helped sell their rice and treats. (My time at local farmer’s markets paid off, because I would not allow for bargaining).

Our week came to an end after our last exchange with a local government official who was very passionate about hating TNCs.  This past week was a great first unit trip—personal connections were formed and we got a real insight into the issues.  These next 10 days in Khon Kaen will be rough, because I can’t wait to get back into the villages.

(Oh! I almost forgot… if you put a green mango into a box for a few days, it ripens perfectly!  It’s a very useful skill when mangos are not in season.)

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Laying The Bricks for Photography

September 19, 2011

Nic Dunlop, a photographer, came and taught a photography workshop—so I thought it only fitting that I show what I came up with.  Our instructions were to take an establishment shot, a profile shot, a detail shot, an action shot, and then a fifth of any of those.  We had to tell a story, and no children and no monks were allowed.

So I headed off through the streets and decided, despite the heat and blaring sun, to venture down a street I had not been down yet.  I first found myself in a neighborhood, then at a resort, and finally I came upon a bustling street with lots of excitement and potential subjects.  All the pictures were to be of the same subject, so I wanted something new (and boy, did I find it).

I came upon this brick building in construction and thought, “why not?”  There was a young guy working the brick pulley, and seeing as I had never seen this orange contraption before, it fit.  He spoke a little English, and I speak a little (very little) Thai, so we were kind of able to communicate.  He had decided I was going to come back later when he got off  and hang out with him and his friend…I knew I had to come back to get more pictures in the afternoon, so I did as the Thais do, and smiled.

I took a few good shots, and got my establishing shot, but needed more for sure. Only problem was, I wandered to get there—needless to say I got lost coming back.  I was uncertain if I could find it again.  I did though, and it was worth the walk.

My friend from earlier in the day was gone, so I wandered around the construction site.  I then saw this woman on the stairs, asked if I could take her picture, and afterward, she directed me upstairs.  I scaled the edge of the building (for like 2 feet) and spoke with three women, in broken Thai and English.  One may have told me she wants an American boyfriend…but I am pretty sure she had kids… I don’t know.  Language barriers.

It was an amazing experience, and although conversation may not have been perfect, I think I was able to capture my experience through the photos.

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Navigli, discos, and the lovely Como

September 19, 2011

Now for the amazing stuff that I referenced in my last post… the fun stuff, haha. My first few nights brought me down to an area of Milan known as the Navigli. To give you a setting to imagine, the Navigli lies along 2 long canals that are perpendicular to one another, forming an L of water in the middle of the very busy city. So this nice canal and the surrounding areas have a diversity like no other, as they create a street fair with things for sale during the day, but then transform into a local hangout and boardwalk-esque area at night for people of all ages to come and enjoy. The bars set out tents with tables and chairs next to the canal, so on a nice early autumn night, the Navigli are filled with Italians and foreigners alike all coming for the atmosphere, beautiful views, and most of all, for appertivo.

All Americans, listen up… we need appertivo back in the states right away. For around 6 or 7 euros (roughly 10 dollars) you receive a free drink of any kind from the bar, plus access to an all-you-can-eat buffet (and since I’m in Italy, clearly the food is awesome). So at any bar in all of Milan from the hours of 6pm to 10pm, you can sit, relax, and have a drink, eating as much or as little as you desire, for as long as you wish. Then afterwards, especially in the Navigli, you can get a gelato (I like Nociiola or Baccio, but they are all insanely good, even the fruit ones like Pina Colada or Wild Cherry) and walk around enjoying a nice night.

After getting more acquainted with the school and my fellow peers, I went to a couple of get-togethers for exchange students hosted by the University at various night clubs known here as discos (but no Saturday Night Fever). The parties were a great way to meet people in a less formal atmosphere and let me get to know some of my new friends on a more personal level. This is where I had my conversation with my friend from Barcelona that I mentioned in my previous post. The parties regularly go from 11pm til almost 4am, but I was home in bed or on a Skype date by 2am on most of those nights.

Finally, to cap off my week of stress and transition, came my journey to one of the most peaceful and relaxing places in all of Italy and probably the entire world: Lake Como. It is no wonder international celebrities like George Clooney and Richard Branson gladly drop 40 million for villas near the amazing lake. Just stepping off the train, you are greeted with views of a lifetime, surrounded by mountains all covered with houses extending as far as the eye can see. After a nice walk through a quaint and– dare I say without sounding too girly– cute city, you reach the crème de la crème, a lake that extends throughout these mountains, touching the Alps and covering the area with beauty. Just walking around the lake is a full and relaxing day for almost anyone, with the stunning views that, believe me, pictures cannot do justice.

But in order to truly make our trip momentous, my friends and I decided to be a little more adventurous. After climbing a hidden path we found halfway up the mountain, we noticed a small recreational beach for locals down by the lake. Very curious, as well as hot and sweaty, we decided it was most definitely worth exploring. So after speaking Italian to get our way in, we changed into bathing suits and made a dash for the lake. Our thirst for adventure and our heat exhaustion persuaded us to overlook the signs warning against swimming in the beautiful but polluted lake, with my friend justifying our decision by saying:

“I see fish in there. If they can survive it, so can we.”

In retrospect, that was not the wisest advice to take, but was advice that proved to be valuable nonetheless. After jumping into the perfectly refreshing water, we swam out to a nearby dock, climbed onto it, and saw Como from a view that normally only fish can see. In awe of my surroundings and this perfectly serene moment, I succumbed to the beauty of the world and became content with simply being a spectator of the world around me.

With open eyes and an open mind, this adventure, while only the first of many, will certainly be hard to top.

I can’t wait to go back there with my loving family and amazing girlfriend on November 12th… I’m counting the days.

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Posted by johninitaly

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