My time in a world far, far away is almost coming to a close. It’s impossible to believe that I’ve spent nearly four months in VIETNAM of all places in the world, and the lessons that I’ve learned here will last a lifetime. I’ve done more in one semester than I ever thought possible, and even still I felt like there was so much more to do. While I won’t be able to fully reflect on my time abroad until I’m home, I’ve started thinking about all of the things about Vietnam that I’ll miss (and trying not to think about the things that I won’t) and have even started making Pinterest boards of ways to incorporate Vietnamese food into my diet back home. I’ve been asked by every professor if I would consider coming back, and I would emphatically answer yes, although maybe not just to Vietnam or for an extended stay. I still have so much more of the world to go but I’m glad I started here!
Memories from the first trip to Malaysia!
The amount of markets I’ve been to this semester is nauseating, but I just can’t stop. It’s almost become an addiction wherever I travel in SE Asia. The scariest market experience I’ve ever had was in the famous Ben Thanh Market in Saigon. It’s the most touristy and also the most aggressive market. I went just to say that I went, with no real intention of buying anything here because there are several cheaper and more local markets around. However, when in Saigon, you must attend! As I walked through the numbing amount of aisles, I thoroughly enjoyed squeezing past crowded stalls and being poked and prodded to buy something, even to the point of being followed for several minutes to come back to one person’s stall. After I escaped I realized what a hilarious experience it is, and then proceeded to hit up some of my favorite local-business/hipster markets around town.
Kayaking in Halong Bay – The day before they shut it down completely
Another aspect of life here that I’ll miss is how cheap everything is. I know, I know, I’m a cheapskate. But when you can get by for $3 a day, it changes you. I have epically failed in sticking to such a budget just because the cheapness of everything tempts you to buy more, but I don’t regret any purchases I made or experiences I had because I’m coming away with so much more than monetary value. There are many frustrations that come with being a foreigner, most decidedly how an “authentic” experience is far from achievable. As a white female who doesn’t speak the language, I can get close but never be truly involved in the real lives of the Vietnamese. I struggle with this fight every day between my desire to be a part of the community and my recognition of my status as a foreigner who has few avenues to become involved. I have this never-ending feeling of not having done enough but I also have a long list of accomplishments from this semester. While the Vietnam Center was nothing like I unconsciously expected, I still learned so much.
A group picture before heading up Mt. Fansipan!
There’s going to be so much more that I’ll miss. What I do love is how robust the culture is here if you know where to look. On one Sunday morning, I was on the back of an uber bike and as we drove along the river, I saw a group of local people having a drawing and painting class. It was a beautiful moment, and sparked my interest in how the arts are used in Vietnam. On that same uber bike ride, I rode past a man biking with an open flame in his basket, an extremely hip couple dressed to the nines having a photo shoot, naked children running on the street, and one of my now favorite coffee shops. Thinking back on all these moments of absurd contradictions and times of confusion, you just have to laugh and go with it. There have been so many days that I’ve been tempted to give in to the cynicism that one can face when you are constantly challenged, and some days I have given in. More often than not, I’ve somehow found the courage to laugh. The blend and struggle between modern and traditional is as clear as day when you step outside the dorm gate. Back to the art, there’s also a huge influence of pottery and music on society here. As much as I sometimes despise it, karaoke is a monumental part of the daily life of a Vietnamese person. To see such a blend of art from painting workshops to poetry to song and dance (Vietnamese break-dancers are amazing) has been something that’s brought life to my study abroad experience. In a place that I didn’t have any specific expectations from, I had the time and inspiration to find my own creative voice.
Studying abroad has added so many more dimensions to my college career and even to me as a person. This semester I had time to grapple with who I, Kelly Ravenscraft, really am and what parts of me were just borrowed from other people or from definitions of who I thought I was supposed to be. If I were to do anything differently, I would have asked more questions, especially more difficult questions of other people, and would have tried to be more intentional with asking the Vietnamese partners. Even just taking someone out for coffee feels different here, but I wish that hadn’t stopped me from continuing trying throughout the rest of the semester. I struggled with community this semester as I was cut off from all of my normal communities and wasn’t exactly used to being thrown out of my comfort zone in this way. I wish that I hadn’t been afraid of awkward one-on-ones, as I never had been before back at home. Even with other big personalities, I wish I had been my “full” self the entire semester. It took a lot longer for me to get comfortable with the community here than I was used to, but I also think that it took longer to be my real self because this semester was dedicated to actually understanding who that real self is. Even if there are small things that I wish I could change, I don’t regret any part of my Vietnam experience. I’m so happy that I went to the Loyola Vietnam Center as my first study abroad program, and I’m hopeful to go abroad a second time, preferably to a direct enrollment program so that I can continued to be challenged! If you’re considering studying abroad, I urge you to pursue it, no matter the financial cost or the anxiety that may accompany your decision at first. I still have so much more to reflect on (and more blogs to post!), but overall I’m excited to see where the next step of my journey forward takes me. No matter where you are in your journey, I urge you to step outside of your comfort zone and get lost in the thrill of it all. Chase after fears with a goal of overcoming them, seek out love and community in places you’d never think to find them, and jump at any chance to see the world with a perspective you could never have without seeing another side of the world. Go forth and set the world on fire.
“I am not the same having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world”.
I have become accustomed to calling Oslo, “My Frosted City” for reasons I will explain at a different time. Hence, while traveling in Praha, I couldn’t help but develop a name for that city as well. The city is remarkably dense, and the staggering architecture is generally painted lovely pastel shades of pink, blue, yellow, etc. Thus, it seemed fitting to call Praha “My Dense, Pastel City”.
I was blessed enough to have a friend studying in Prague who let me crash with him for free. Ben was originally going to try to come to Oslo along with me through USAC but instead he chose the USAC program in Prague. Throughout my time in Praha, I found it interesting to juxtapose his experience with a different USAC program to my experience here in Oslo.
Here in Oslo, USAC is the definition of hands off. I don’t consider myself a USAC student, but rather a student at Universitet i Oslo for several reasons. I am mostly friends with the numerous other international students, the Americans I am friends with are numbered, especially those I know through USAC. Furthermore, my 5 roommates are all non-American, and it is quite common for me to be the only native English speaker in the room at most times. I even had to request for my classes to be taught in English, for example, because everyone in my math class at least was Norwegian, apart from me and two German friends of mine from my buddy group. Although USAC doesn’t do anything with us, the University of Oslo truly does an impeccable job orienting the 2,000 some international exchange students. Thus, I am extremely well adjusted and couldn’t be happier with how things have turned out.
Ben’s experience is quite the opposite. He is always with the 80 USAC participants in his program. He lives with them, only takes classes with them, parties with them, and travels with them. USAC even treats them to various excursions quite frequently. I am not saying my experience is better than his, or vice versa. I was just intrigued at the vast difference between our two exchanges. For me personally, it validated that I chose the right program for me (I utterly love Oslo and Norge as a whole).
Moving past that, I loved the trip. Ben was a great tour guide and I was able to see basically the entire city while I was there. In order to save money, we did not purchase transit tickets, and instead walked everywhere. We averaged about 15 miles a day, which I loved because I love exceedingly long walks.
At one point Ben took me to one overlook and told me that the very far tower on the horizon was where we had walked from. I was blown away and took a picture with my finger pointing to it to remember! It is so easy to travel far distances when you’re having fun exploring!
Ben not only picked me up at the airport but also dropped me off, even though it is easily an hour’s trip from his apartment. The public transit can just be very confusing and the language is extraordinarily difficult, so he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get lost.
While on the train back to his apartment, we tried to start catching up for we hadn’t seen each other since the fall semester back at Loyola. Unfortunately the trains in Praha are unbelievably loud that we practically had to scream to hear one another.
Everything in Prague is just so old—Ben’s apartment building included. Even the key to his room is ancient looking. It is all so different to me. I was blown away at how lovely a street he lives on, and especially how huge his apartment and subsequent room is. I live in a small apartment in Oslo with 5 other people, where my room is maybe the size of his bathroom!
The key to Ben’s apartment – ancient, I know!The beautiful street Ben lives on.
Everywhere I went, I was blown away at the buildings, what with their age and history. America just doesn’t have stuff like that, we are too young. We walked around Old Town Square, which was filled with history and people, followed by the famous Charles Bridge. I loved being on there, taking in the beautiful cityscape and the enormous statues. Ben made sure to show me his favorite statue at the very end of the bridge, before taking me to what he called ‘a special surprise’. I asked where he was taking me and he just asked if I liked the Beatles. I answered “Of course!”, but still he didn’t reveal where we were going until we had reached our destination.
The Lennon Wall is precisely everything that I love—rebellion plus art plus creativity. We stood there for ages, picking out new bits and pieces the more we looked at it.
The entrance to Charles Bridge.The view while on the Bridge. Keep in mind this was taken on a Friday. When we walked past it again on Saturday, the place was so packed you wouldn’t even be able to walk without touching someone next to you! Blessed we went on Friday!The view of part of Praha from Charles Bridge.Ben’s favorite statue on the Bridge.The famous Lennon Wall.
As we kept walking and exploring, we would come across the funniest statues and the nicest walking paths. I got the sense that Prague has a unique sense of character compared to other cities. I also learned from my Czech friends back in Oslo that the reason the city wasn’t destroyed during the war like many other places was because Hitler had fallen in love with it and wanted to preserve it. I can see why someone would fall in love with the city, it is quite impeccable.
Yes, you see that correct. That is a statue/fountain of men peeing. Fun fact, it also moved! So quirky, Praha…These statues of these giant babies are all throughout the city. Honestly, they freaked me out a tad…Pictured is Ben on one of the various paths we wondered on.
The second day Ben also took me to some fascinating parts of the city. We found this strange park that jutted out on a tall wall, with winding stairs to get down to the ground. Then we walked through another park, which the only way I can describe it is magical. The sense I got while wandering through there truly was fairytale like—I don’t know any other words to use for it.
The park that jutted out on top of the wall. It had strange statues of wooden legs, and nice benches to sit on when the weather is nice.That is the wall in which the park is located, as well as the spiral stair case we used to get down. All so old!The “magical” park I described previously.
Following that we entered the old grave yard of the city, Vyšehrad Cemetery. There’s something about walking through graveyards that I enjoy—not so much in a morbid way or anything but for reasons I can’t exactly put into words. I guess I just like to think about all the lives that had been lived with each gravestone. Moreover, every country (every city, even) has their own twist on how they built and manage their cemeteries. This one was filled was greenery and trees everywhere. It was delicate and inviting in a strange way.
One section of the Vyšehrad Cemetery. You can see all the plants and trees everywhere – quite beautiful.
Lastly, we crossed a different, but also beautiful bridge to hike up to the Metronome. There were stairs leading up to it and once up their there were lots of people laughing with their friends, drinking beers in the sun. In addition there was a skate park where we watched various people try to improve their best tricks. It was a nice spot, and I told Ben he has to come back he with his friends at sunset with a few beers before his semester is over (he finishes school a lot earlier than I do).
The bridge with the Metronome in the distance on the hill.
The food was also so cheap, which was a nice break from Norway, where I haven’t eaten out once because the prices here are exorbitant. I really loved this particular café we went to called Standard Cafe. The art on the walls was a collection of photographs, probably about 8 frames in total. Each picture had a pair of two photographs highlighting a single person among a crowd. The people were all looking up at something with looks of amazement and awe. The lead people sometimes had phones in their hands to capture whatever they were looking at, while others simple stood there in the picture with their jaws hanging down. Their facial expressions were radical and quite humorous. Seriously, this installation was just so dope! It makes you wonder what the heck all these people were looking at, and it made me want to meet the artist…
Of course both nights I was in the city, I just had to stop for a late night kebab—among the best meals on this planet, the kebab <3 You can also see a bandaid on my thumb; I had cut it on a donut box and was bleeding profusely at one point.Some cheesecake and coffee that I got at the Chocolate Café.
As for the night life, Prague is so diverse. On the first night, we bar hopped a lot (5 to be precise). The goal was just to get a sense of the diversity within all the various bars and clubs. Almost any scene you could possible want, you can find in Prague.
The cutest and sweetest dog ever that was at one of the bars. I just sat with it the entire time, utterly in love!
I especially enjoyed my second night out because I was able to meet and converse with some of the coolest strangers. First, we went to a bar that was literally in an old, World War II bunker, which was fascinating, followed by this club which is where I met those groovy people. There were 2 different bachelor parties going on at the club, so the place was primarily filled with men. The first group was huge and all the guys had on the same matching shirt. The groom was wearing a veil and they were hilarious to watch dance. The second bachelor party was one that I conversed with for quite a while. They were all from Ireland, and the groom was wearing a long, red wig and a dress. They were the funniest people; I kid you not. One of my roommates, Shannon, is Irish and so I bonded with them over talking about where she is from and such. I’ve learned over the semester that people from Dublin (where these men were from) have a sort of rivalry with people from Cork (where Shannon is from). It is a running joke that they hate one another. I got a video for her of all of them saying her name, and making jokes about Cork and Dublin. Then they proceeded to teach me how to do some Irish dance. It was just fun to meet such friendly, welcoming people.
Following that, I came across a group of eight guys speaking English and turns out two of them were studying in Prague with Ben, but the others were students studying in Barcelona and Italy. A few of them were Jewish (one had the same last name as me) so it was extremely awesome to connect with other Jews after so many months. I am not kidding, I am pretty sure I am the only Jew in all of Norway. That is not necessary a big drawback, but I certainly miss being able to connect with people that share the same values and background as me.
Overall, I am so glad I had the opportunity to come stay with Ben in Praha. The city is gorgeous and while I left reeking of cigarettes (EVERYONE smokes there), it was a successfully fun weekend that I would do again in a heartbeat. S/O to Ben, once again, thanks for letting me crash with you for the weekend!
I am getting more and more convinced that I belong in the arctic, especially after my visit to Tromsø, a city located in the far North of Norway. My friends and I wanted the opportunity to see the Northern Lights, and like most students who wish to see them, we planned a trip to this Arctic city. Originally it was going to be me and 10 other guys, but then my German friend Carla asked if she could join the week of our departure, and so it was 12 of us in total venturing North (so many people!).
My friend Trond (also from Colorado, surprisingly) and I booked our flights together so we had seats adjacent to one another. He had the window seat, but as we were flying into Tromsø, I was able look past him to see just how untouched the landscape was for miles. There were pure, snow covered mountains as far as the eye could see. My excitement for the trip kept rising the longer I stared out the window.
The view from the window of the plane as we were descending into Tromsø.
When we arrived in the airport, it took a little while to get the keys to the two cars we had rented for the trip but then we set out for our accommodations. I was included in the original car rental group: Graham (Vermont, USA), Trond (Colorado, USA), Brad (Florida, USA), and Will (North Dakota, USA). We decided weeks before that we wanted to rent a car to be able to ski and hike the dope mountains outside the city. The other guys on the trip decided last minute to rent a car and unfortunately Sam (our quirky, lovable Australian) was accidentally left out and thus had to ride in the boot of one of the cars. Additionally, Carla (the German girl I mentioned previously) was an extra person we didn’t anticipate. So to get everyone to fit, including all the ski equipment, two people had to sit in the trunk everywhere we went. Definitely not the safest, and absolutely not my choice, but it worked out…
Joey, our Airbnb extraordinaire, booked the most incredible house for us to stay in. It was very historical, dated in the 18th century, and it was MASSIVE. Literally, a mansion. Plus, it was located towards the top of a hill in the city, so the view we had was spectacular. I slept on one of the couches in the main living room with Graham the entire time we were there, and I loved waking up to the spectacular views outside the window. I am still blown away that we managed to get our safety deposit back, because, as you can imagine, 12 people can really wreak havoc when set wild in a large house for three days—especially when 10 of them are guys. Let’s just say I have never seen a group of people pull off such a thorough cleaning job in such a short period of time before the owner returned—it was the feat of a lifetime!
The backside of our glorious Airbnb (Thanks again, Joey!)The view from inside the living room in which I slept each night. I took this picture upon awaking one morning.
We had decided before we left for the trip that we would do one communal dinner together each day. Hence, when we first arrived, we set out the game plan of who would oversee what meals and then we went food shopping just down the road. When we came back, we explored the house and surrounding area before we got our belongings organized for the long night we had before us.
This is just down the road from our house, taken on our way to the grocery store.
Our plan to witness the Northern Lights on our first night was to drive an hour or two outside the city and find a random mountain to hike up. Once there, we would make a fire, cook some hot dogs for dinner, and basically camp out for most of the night to watch the Aura Borealis.
We drove West of Tromsø for about an hour, with Trond, Graham and I analyzing the mountains as we drove to see which ones would be good to trek up for the night. We finally came across one that seemed perfect—seemingly manageable for those in the trip who were not avid hikers. Even the mountain we choose proved surprisingly difficult, but I am getting ahead of myself now…
With all our gear—food, fire wood, drinks, and warm clothes—we began hiking somewhat diagonally up the side of the mountain. It was a full moon which was perfect, as it allowed us to see where we were going. After a while, we found a good spot to make fire and start roasting our hot dogs, or pølser, as we say in Norwegian. It was fun to once again be drinking, eating, and chatting around a fire in the middle of nowhere, just like I do back in the states. This was something I do a lot back in Colorado when I go camping so it felt warm and familiar to me. While our pølser were cooking, Brad was the first one to just barely notice the Northern Lights in the distance. The excitement around the fire grew exponentially, and I couldn’t wait to see them with my own eyes.
The outline of myself huddled at the fire to stay warm while the full moon shined above us. You can see the rest of the mountain we climbed in the background.
After we finished our meal, we put out the fire and set out to hike further up the mountain. This is where the climbing got rather difficult. It was freezing, with thick layers of snow surrounding an increasingly rocky mountainside. The group began to get divided between those who moved faster and those who were struggling to get up the mountain. Additionally, Will took a huge L when he accidentally dropped his phone down some hole in the mountainside, never to be seen again. I felt so awful for him as our frantic searching for the phone proved fruitless. To his credit, he had such a good attitude about it all, especially when later in the trip he also broke his skis (but again, I am getting ahead of myself!). Let’s just say, Tromsø truly was a savage while we were there, despite all its glory and beauty.
Graham took one for the team and dived into the hole where Will believed his phone fell. Andy was holding his legs so he wouldn’t fall in.
With Will double fisting two cigarettes, we eventually kept moving up the mountain in hopes of getting an ever better view of the Northern Lights. As soon as we had started moving, something magical happened. The Aura Borealis appeared in the sky, one-hundred times stronger than previously. We all instinctively started screaming, and I am not kidding you, the louder we screamed the stronger the lights became! They were a glorious shade of green, all dancing across the sky. I couldn’t believe it, and sadly no picture will ever do it justice, but it helps for the memories… It by far was one of the happiest, magical times in my life as stood there screams with people who have become some of my good friends while watching the Lights grow bigger and stronger.
The first glimpses of the Northern Lights. The pictures made it look like day time, even though it was dark.Taken at the time when we were all screaming and the Lights kept getting better and better – so amazing!
Some of us tried to summit the mountain but conditions got way too dangerous the higher we got. I was content with where we had reached and just how well we could see the lights.
Going down the mountain will forever be one of my most favorite experiences of my life. The mountain, like I mentioned, was quite steep and there were feet of snow everywhere so making our way down by merely walking we would soon realize was less than advisable. Before we knew it (and I still don’t remember who started it, probably Graham) we were flinging our bodies down the hill, sliding either on our feet, on our stomachs, but mostly on our butts. What took hours to climb, took maybe 30 minutes to descend!
As we are making our way down, laughing and pushing each other as we soaked our clothes through to our skin, we overheard Joey scream. Yep, savage Tromsø did it again—Joey announced he had lost his phone. We all stopped and many of us, including myself, had to climb back up the mountain to help look. Joey literally sprinted up the mountain in search for his iPhone, because sadly he had already experienced great loss with apple products when he accidentally left his Macbook on the plane when first traveling to Oslo. Lucky for Joey, he found his phone with all but 2% battery remaining! I still remember him standing with his arms above his head, grasping his phone as he yelled he found it. We celebrated immensely as we returned to flying down the snowy mountainside, butts in the cold snow.
The crew at the bottom of the hill! Despite the freezing temperatures, we were overheated by coming down the mountain and thus some of the guys crazily took off their shirts. I do apologize!
The next morning, Graham and I were awoken very early—me by the early sunlight breaking through the sunroom, and Graham because he is the biggest morning person I have ever met. He peeled the rest of the guys out of their beds upstairs to make sure we got moving at least somewhat early to go skiing and hiking at a near by mountain. I stuffed my face and backpack with food before we set off on our next adventure.
The day was just gorgeous. It was still freezing (artic circle and all…), but it was cloudless and sunny. Five of the guys had skies and I was planning on hiking from the beginning and anyone could join me if they wanted to. At first, the rest of the group said of course, but as we began to hike, Sam (ausie), Zach (Michigan), Joey (Michigan), and Pedro (Argentina) immediately pulled off to the side to start taking pictures of themselves. That was their choice, but I was not about to spend the day taking photos when I could be hiking. I told them I was just going to leave them and as I was walking away, Andy (Minnesotan) and Carla (German) joined me to hike. I was glad to have their company just in case something went wrong like getting lost or injured.
The mountain and trails were unlike anything I had ever seen. Unique ice crystals decorated the landscape due to how cold it was. We found a trail that was about 4 miles long so we made it our mission to try to get to the end and back before the time we agreed to meet up at the cars with the rest of our group.
The amazing ice crystals that lined all the trees and bushes.Even the way the rivers are frozen are vastly different than back at home.Part of the trail towards the middle of the valley.
As we were hiking, Andy thought he heard some of the guys up ahead. I tried to listen, but before I could hear anything he just sprinted off in the distance. Turns out he was right, we had somehow managed to meet up with the skiing crew! We talked for a little and then all decided to climb up this steep mountainside to get to the top. This was were our trail was heading but the snow and ice was so bad you couldn’t even see the trail anymore so once we summited, that was as far as we went.
Climbing up that mountain though was extremely difficult. It was pure ice in most places and the wind was far stronger than even the strongest winds in Chicago. Finally, we all reached the top. The views (and the wind) were unreal. We ate our lunch huddled around each other and took just a few celebratory photos because it was quite an accomplishment that we made it. That hike is definitely in my top 5 favorite hikes in my life.
The crew when we first reached the top.One of the dopest photos of my life – you can see the crazy landscape we were hiking around. (Living on the edge!)Pictured is me and Vince (Netherlands) doing the famous butt sliding technique to get down the hill.I was lucky that Brad gave me his pole to help me get down the mountain. (Thank you Vince for the cool, candid picture!)
As it was starting to get dark, we decided to head back once we got down from the summit. Cross country skiing downhill is really tough so although some of us were hiking, we mostly stayed with the skiers because (Graham and Trond excluded) the guys kept falling—especially Brad. This is when Will lost it and ran into a snow bank, breaking both his skis. Tromsø really hated that kid, and I felt so sorry for him, for they weren’t even his skiis. A Norwegian family he calls his ‘host family’ here had let him borrow them. But just as he did with his phone, he had a great attitude and eventually we made it back to the cars. The other guys rolled in shortly after and then we set off to return home.
That night we took the gondola up a mountain to overlook the city. The tickets were cheap and it was definitely worth it to see the city lit up at night.
Glorious Tromsø at the top of a mountain. You can see the edges of the gondola in the picture.
Later, we stayed in the house and had a great time together, all awhile listening to Graham 2000’s music playlist. Everyone was dead the next morning but of course Graham woke up at the crack of dawn, thus waking me up. A few more followed suit and we decided to do our part in cleaning the house before just getting in a car and going on a road trip. We knew the rest of the group would not be able to get themselves ready in time so we opted for just ditching them—sounds mean but it was such a good decision. I still feel bad for them that they missed such a wonderful day.
It was Graham, Andy, Sam, and me in the car. Last minute Brad was able to through on a jacket and join us as well. We drove for hours, through a rain and snow mixture of weather, while surrounded by mountains and the Arctic ocean. This was also probably one of my favorite parts of the trip. For one, I just really love road trips in general. Something about the meditative aspect of it to me puts me in a peaceful state of mind, especially if I am driving through gorgeous landscapes, like I was in Tromsø. Another reason is I adore listening to music in the car. It is simply sublime to lose yourself in either thought or conversation while your ears are surrounded by the gentle melodies of some of your favorite songs.
We would make a few stops here and there to stretch our legs or get a better view of some outstanding outlooks. At one point, the wind was so strong that Graham’s door almost broke and flew off—talk about strong winds!
The view while driving. You can see the rain and clouds covering the mountain in the distance.Pictured is Sam, Andy, and me stretching our legs on the side of the road.
The best part was when we decided to pull off on the side of the road, cross it, and walk onto this piece of land that jutted out into the ocean. The waters were a blue-green that I had never seen before and the icy, rainy winds were out of this world. We were screaming and running around like children on the playground. I was unbelievably happy and freezing at the same time. Graham even ended up walking into the water quite far while the rest of us just tried to not get blown away on the land. A crazy boy, that one is. The rest of us continued to play around and as soon as Graham came back out of the water, he sprinted back to the car because he was so cold. The rest of us followed suit, reaching the car cold, soaked, and beyond satisfied. I will never forget that tiny road trip to nowhere that we took.
You can see the amazingly unique colors of the Arctic waters.Look how far Graham traveled into the freezing cold water. He’s that small outline in the distance! Crazy dude, I’m telling ya!!Pictured is me about to get blown away by the impeccably strong, icy winds!
When we returned home, we came across the rest of the crew sitting in the living room. I felt kinda bad for them that they missed out on such a wonderful day, but hey it wasn’t our fault that we didn’t want to sit around and do nothing on our last day while everyone slept.
Like I mentioned earlier, cleaning up that house was a disaster. Additionally, we had one more communal meal to cook which made the kitchen a mess again. In the middle of our rapid cleaning and cooking, the owner walks in—astonished at how well we destroyed her home in just a few days. She kept saying, “I just don’t understand how this happened.” Joey (our savior) calmed her down and promised everything would be spotless in an hour. She said it better be just before taking off again. In that hour, we performed a miracle—no joke. In the end, we not only got our deposit back, but the woman left Joey and wonderful review on Airbnb.
Tromsø may have been the most beautiful and savage city I have ever been to–quite the dichotomy. I am forever grateful that I had the opportunity to go there and that I was lucky enough to see the Northern Lights, especially on our first night (many other international students who traveled there were not so lucky).
Thanks for everything my lovely Arctic city, and thank you for reading about my adventures.
Until next time bloggy blog 🙂
P.s. Our one and only Bradley Lazar makes incredible videos, and this is the one he made for our trip that is only about a minute but shows the beauty of the city! It also features him falling while skiing if you’re into that!
If there’s one thing that people know about me, it’s my addiction to coffee. There’s no rescuing me because I’m way too far-gone, so I’ve gone ahead and embraced the addiction. If you think about technicalities, a cup a day is good for you! Anyways, something that I will miss when I leave Vietnam (IN LESS THAN THREE WEEKS) is the café culture. It’s everywhere that you turn! Even if I went to a different café for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for years on end I still wouldn’t make it to every café in Saigon. Throughout my semester I made it my goal to go to as many cafes as possible. My grand total is….. 38! I don’t have that much space in this blog though to list off each one, but here are my top 20 cafes in Saigon, ranked loosely in order.
Work Saigon – This space saved me when I started feeling homesick. When you walk in, you see huge workshop style tables, beautiful food, a variety of creative expats, and a collective vibe that brings everyone all together. The only request is that you buy something to use the creative co-working space, which almost every time I’ve been there I’ve had the Salted Caramel French Toast with a caphe sua da, and I tell you that heaven on earth really does exist. This is a great place if you’re feeling homesick, want a space that’s big enough to spread out and do your work, or if you just want to meet some really cool expats! Also, there’s a pool. Enough said.
Vietcetera – This place roasts from the heart. There’s two parts to this collective, both the café and the website. The owners of both are incredible and have a passion for telling stories. Also, the food here is incredible! I love the fusion of locals and expats here, as well as the vision for the future that the shop and collective have. There’s also a really cool airbnb located upstairs (Sunday Studios).
The Workshop – There’s no ca phe sua da here, but there is GREAT European-style coffee. Once again. The huge work tables are a huge plus, and it’s a really awesome hidden space (although it’s not as hidden as it once was). Expect to find troves of Vietnamese business professionals in meetings or tinkering away on their laptops.
The Maker – Another creative collective (can you see the trend here?), this space offers a hipster oasis inside of the famous 42 Nguyen Hue building, which is an apartment building turned café/boutique haven. There are two shops, one that’s completely dedicated to fashion and one that’s half boutique shop and half coffee shop. Everything from the design work to the coffee is enough inspiration for a productive afternoon!
Oromia Coffee Lounge – One word: CATS. Not necessarily marketed as a cat café, there’s a secret population of cats on the second level, including day old kittens. The cats are treated very well and added the perfect bit of cuteness to an afternoon of productivity. Also, Oromia has an incredible branding strategy and ample workspace that’s fit for any project or group outing.
L’Usine – The crowning jewel of fashion meets café culture. There are two shops and are extending into a third space as well. Think Urban Outfitters meets hipster coffee shop/wine bar and you basically have been there. With the coolness comes more expensive taste, but definitely worth a couple of visits.
Shelter Coffee – Their coffee is strong and their cups are large, which means their typical coffee is enough to power a small town, let alone you for the day. You can get a coffee and a banh mi for the same price as one L’Usine coffee, and the shop has a ton of natural light on the upper two floors. It’s also located a block away from the Vietnam Center, so you can bet that it’s been frequented a lot by us!
The Loft Café – The Loft offers everything from an open workspace to the cool factor of being inside an old abandoned apartment building that housed employees for USAID and used to be a CIA safe house back in the day. This space is on the way to the Vietnam Center which adds in a level of convenience, too.
Mockingbird – Back in the 42 Nguyen Hue building, Mockingbird has some great food and drink options, and a ton of photo op opportunities. It’s a great space if you need a break from all of the great shopping on the other floors!
Things Café – This place was so cute! Also located in 42 Nguyen Hue, this humble shop had a great vibe and a sweet balcony. It wasn’t exactly the most impression-leaving spaces, but it had its quirks!
Monologues – Outside of the fact that we convinced our literature professor to have class here (we only had three students in our class) this is probably the most frequented spot of the semester, mostly out of convenience. Down an alley next to open, there’s usually a ton of space and really good wifi, so if you need a place for early-ish skype calls before class, this would be it.
Heart Coffee – Honestly this was some of the most unadultered espresso I’ve had here, and its only 25,000 (about a dollar). It’s also right next door to open. There’s not exactly a work-friendly environment though, so takeaway is your best option.
The Old Compass Café – Although I was a bit turned off by a strange smell in the shop at first, I was convinced to stay by the presence of good coffee (albeit a bit more on the expensive side), a quiet workspace, and nice waiters!
Le Saigonais – A combination of fashion and coffee, this shop is also on the route between Open University and The Vietnam Center office. You get to finish the process of making ca phe sua da yourself and the staff are attentive to every need! If you look around with even the slightest look of franticness they’ll come to your rescue. The main downside is the price of the clothes and how tempting they are.
Klasik Coffee Roasters – A sweet spot with a ton of local roasts, this place knows how to create a name for themselves. As a poor college student though, I couldn’t keep up.
Journal Coffee – Here you can get great blended coffee and a ton of space upstairs! Their takeaway coffee is super cheap, but the downside is the poor wifi and the music that blasts while you’re trying to get work done in the shop. If you’re down with loud Vietnamese ballads, though, be my guest!
Id Café – An interesting café, there’s a ton of cool décor and great smoothies and coffee. I highly recommend avoiding the food though, and the wifi can be spotty.
She Café – Filled with pictures of Angelina Jolie and musical hits by women, this café is full of female fatale. The downsides are a dark work environment and more on the US-level of pricing for coffee. It’s a hidden oasis though if your hope is to escape the heat and stay in district 1!
Heritage – Located on the edge of district 1, this café features its own mascot, a sassy bulldog who even got his own logo. There’s an interesting vibe here and more of a hangout space than a workspace. My greatest achievement was meeting said mascot and escaping the heat.
BK Coffeehouse – More out of convenience than anything, this shop is right next door to the dormitory and gives you a low price but also a low amount of ca phe sua da. For what it’s worth, you’re better off going with the smoothie lady across the street, but in moments of desperation, BK Coffeehouse comes through.
As you can probably tell, coffee has been a very formative part of my study abroad experience. From meeting new friends to learning more about coffee, I will forever hold in my heart the experience of the coffee culture here in Vietnam. Here are some honorable mentions of coffee shops in other areas of Vietnam and SE Asia!
“Three and a half months is just enough time to make observations of the culture here, not judgments”. A hard line to draw, this wisdom came at the beginning of the semester from our assistant director when talking about what we’ll experience throughout our time here. After the honeymoon phase of Vietnam wore off, it became easy to just make judgments of the culture. Simple things that once blended in with the surrounding aura of Vietnam greatly stood out and became aggravating to a point that it could make or break a day. Once I was able to get to the point of seeing Vietnam for what it is, both positively and critically, I feel that I got to a point of being able to just make observations, rather than imposing my own judgments on the culture. Something that hits close to my heart, and to many people’s, is gender equality. Vietnam has an interesting history with gender equality, from the Trung Sisters and Lady Trieu early in Vietnam’s history who led rebellions from the front lines to women being used to fill roles in the wars to an era of crushing gender inequality in family and social roles to a modern view of women that is somewhat less unequal role of women but still not at a level that promotes true gender equality. Throughout this blog I want to lay out a few observations that I’ve made that points to a lack of gender equality as well as point out customs of traditional Vietnamese society that reinforces a paternalistic culture. I am by no means suggesting ways to change, although in conversation with Vietnamese women there is definitely a desire for change present. All in all, these are just a few moments dispersed throughout the semester I’ve been here in Vietnam.
Imagine you want to buy a smoothie on the bust streets of Vietnam. You’re talking with your Vietnamese partner, who happens to be a guy, and you’re talking about your families and hometowns. You walk up to a smoothie lady (not THE smoothie lady that everyone usually goes to, but a different one), and you ask in broken Vietnamese for a mango smoothie and go to hand her your money. She shakes her head and hands at you and continues talking to your Vietnamese partner. Confused, you stand there for a second before she has your Vietnamese partner take your money from you and give it to her. Thinking it maybe just had to do with the language barrier, you think nothing of it. She then hands your smoothie and change back to your partner who he then hands both to you. He later explained to me that in traditional Vietnamese society, shopkeepers wouldn’t take money from women unless it was a close friend or relative, but that men had to do all of the exchange of money and women were not allowed to. There are many small interactions like this one that reinforce male power that could be mistaken for something else if not observed closely. While this moment did not necessarily affect me as an individual, it’s easy to see how a culture of this leads to a greater level of repression of women.
Much of the gender inequality comes from how children are raised by their parents. While the past couple of generations of Vietnamese youth have had less strict expectations from their parents to stay home and allow their parents to make big decisions for their lives, like marriage or vocation, there are still these little moments where you can see how boys and girls are raised to lean in to different expectations, not unlike the US. For example, motorbikes are a huge thing here. Everyone rides and drives them, regardless of gender, but I’ve found it interesting that I’ve had all male uberbike and grabbike drivers. The Vietnamese are also incredibly skilled at stacking any number of objects on their motorbikes, and I’ve seen it all from mattresses to wheelbarrows to families of five. I saw a boy riding his tricycle down the street with two large boxes strapped to the back, just like his father would have on the back of his motorbike. This child seemed to be about three or four years old. Next to him was a girl who by the standards of the society she lives in, will be raised to be a good wife first and a professional second.
In the traditional standards, women are expected to take care of the home while men are supposed to take care of his parents and his family, being the breadwinner for them all. If families only have daughters, it is seen as having a sense of “karmic misfortune”. However, families that only have daughters are still happy and parents growing in age don’t have to worry about not having any sons to take care of them as the daughters have been said to do an even better job than the sons would. Sometimes, the sons will even abandon their duties of taking care of their parents to their sisters, who end up helping take care of their own parents and their husband’s parents. Even still, they are given none of the respect that sons are given.
Something that is just as present in Vietnam as in many other countries is cat-calling. Because of the notion of exoticness and just the roles that men and women hold, this has happened a ton since being here. 30 years ago, it would not have been uncommon to find men with several partners, with whom the wife had to accept and deal with. Due to the unfavorable male attention, one Loyola student decided to try an experiment where she only responds to and converses with the females on the street. When we first got here, everyone would say hello wherever we went, mostly males, and we were unsure whether that was just because that’s what everyone did here or if it was unwanted attention. The more that we were here, the more we realized that it was very much tied to the gender roles here. Even in talking about self-expression with some of the Vietnamese students, I was told that it used to be that anyone with tattoos were associated with the mafia, especially women who chose to get tattoos. I have so many more stories and little moments where I’ve been made aware of my gender here, but not enough time to share them all here. On the other hand, I’ve chosen to study the role that art is playing in the fight for gender equality in Vietnam for my final research paper for one of my classes and what I’ve found is truly inspiring as art and gender come together.
All in all, at the end of the day these are just observations of a select group of people in the southern part of Vietnam, although the North has historically held on to the traditional views of women for longer. Whatever these observations say about Vietnam, what is true is that Vietnamese women are strong and put up with a lot. My hope is that you have learned something about Vietnamese history and culture as well as illustrating how the problems in the US are just as real in Vietnam, if not more so, and that fighting for gender equality needs to be a worldwide effort.
The last group bus ride for the semester – it’s been real Vietnam Fam!
Saigon paints a deep and intricate portrait of the past; it just takes looking a little closer. The streets, as in other Vietnamese cities, are typically named after heroes and heroines that contributed significantly to Vietnam and its history. Of the 3,600 roads crisscrossing Saigon, many carry fictional stories of ancient utopian cities, while others detail significant women warriors. Even the countless trees that line the city blocks have stories to tell. Looming over nearly every street in Saigon, they create a unique canopy that frames the hustle and bustle of the city perfectly. Originally products of French imperialism, the trees were planted to contain the disorderly environment and were an attempt to give the cities structure. The shards of glass that haphazardly poke up from the walls throughout district 10 are also reminiscent of French domination – a solution to wanting to keep unwanted people out without using barbed wire. Cities like Da Lat and Hanoi show powerful reminders of French imperialism through city planning – with the goal being to make Vietnam the ‘pearl of Southeast Asia’. In Da Lat, for instance, the French replaced large swaths of the jungle with tall pine trees. On a 6-hour motorbike tour of Da Lat, a city initially developed in the 1900’s as a resort by the French, I felt a strange mixture comforted by the pines and disgust with the echoes of colonialism represented by a luscious jungle on one side of the valley and tall pines on the other. In Hanoi, the city squares and romantically styled buildings can still be seen today. The old French buildings that once belonged to a single regime are now conserved and used by the Vietnamese, exhibiting a careful and harmonic combination throughout the city.
In contrast, learning more about how deeply the US impacted the development of Vietnam left me wondering how I was ever supposed to fit in. Being a foreigner here is unlike any other experience I’ve had; the language barrier is so strong I am often unsatisfied with the depth of interactions I can manage. Settling into a routine is one thing, but being accepted into a community is another altogether. Having my host partner walk with me and simply speak a mechanics shop owner, Ha, opened a whole new world gave the hint of life to a city that seemed so impartial to foreigners. Ha’s story was certainly a hidden gem, without a translator, it might have never been found. Ha fled communist China only to enter Vietnam’s version of it early on; she speaks Chinese, Vietnamese, and has been taking English courses for the past 2 years. Within the first 10 minutes of meeting her, we were welcomed with open arms and offered dinner. Hearing Ha’s story added a fresh perspective on the people I interact with, how many amazing stories will I never hear because of such a strong language barrier?
In contrast, the littlest interactions show how Vietnam is clinging to traditional ideals. For instance, Confucian gender roles still play a large part in the functioning of Vietnamese society. Confucian tradition holds that men should be the ones handling a majority of money and dealing with transactions. In daily life, this means I get flustered when the bahn mi lady disgruntedly waves my 20,000dong aside and gestures to her husband, who mutters something while grabbing my change. Understanding the reasons for why the interaction plays out the way it does fails to make it any less unsettling. Similarly, the refusal to simply notadd beef/shrimp/egg on a traditional dish like ‘pho’ because then it simply isn’t ‘pho’ reflects a perplexing resilience to small changes. You don’t change pho and still get to call it pho.
Despite all of this, the country shows its eagerness to transition into a major player in southeast Asia, readily adopting laws and measures that would make it more friendly to tourists. Two weeks after outlawing food carts on sidewalks, the district 10 I have come to know and love has already changed. Countless Vietnamese earn their livelihoods through food carts and stands scattered throughout street corners or being pushed along the roads. For tourists, the added appeal of finding the noodle lady, or risking a long night on the toilet for the dare that comes with eating street food adds a unique allure. Street food gives tourists and locals alike a chance to build community, to rub shoulders over a bowl of noodles swimming in chicken broth. Food carts are now more mobile than ever, police cars send people sprinting at breakneck speeds to hide their carts in order to avoid fines, and the rapid busyness of the streets are slowing down. The banh mi lady that knew my vegetarian order every morning on the way to class now has two family members keeping watch on the street corner, while she hands me my Banh mi’s from behind a bush.
The whole appeal of coming to Vietnam was because it is, in a sense, shrouded in mystery. Even saying the name of the country left a bitter taste in the older generations’ mouths, and the question of, why? Why venture into a country that divided the nation and brings up vague images of substance abuse, PTSD, and the shame associated with using Agent Orange? As an American studying here, I am not only reminded of how much the US shaped the country, but also the long reactionary history of the Vietnamese. I was expecting to be met with far more animosity and distrust, how could I be accepted in a nation the US worked to destroy. Talking to Vietnamese students, however, gives a wide range of reactions. Many students feel the need to globalize and reach beyond the borders of Vietnam. In fact, many Vietnamese students closely followed the US presidential race and were interested in sharing their thoughts about it. Outside of my dorm, reminders of US intervention comes in various forms, from wacky t-shirts sported by Vietnam’s youth to singing slightly outdated songs like “Impossible,” “Just Give Me A Reason,” or “Everytime We Touch” in karaoke bars and on blasting from speakers on street corners. Although younger generations readily accept the call to globalize, the country as a whole is struggling between yearning for modernization and keeping their tradition.
Learning more about my home for the past three months has certainly added perspective and given me more empathy for why things are the way that they are. The feeling of being ‘other’ lessens the more I learn about Saigon, and district 10. There is a certain element of comfort that comes from being constantly uncomfortable all the time. There are many ways to make a place feel like home, to make it familiar to the point of never wanting to leave. Tying experiences and memories to landmarks is one way; for a place with a time limit like this, finding out more about the streets I walk regularly and the trees that loom over them was my method of finding comfort in an environment that isn’t easy to navigate. Dig a little deeper into your “normal,” even if you’re not sure you’ll ever find it.
After an entire month of traversing essentially the entirety of Chile, I was definitely ready to get back into the routine of being a student. However, to take a page from The Wizard of Oz’s book, “we’re not at Loyola anymore.” School in Chile, and more specifically at Universidad Alberto Hurtado, is kind of wild. You sign up for a bunch of classes and then drop the ones you don’t want. Professors and students show up 5-20 minutes late to each class (Chilean time is too real). Students cook food and sell it on the very small, very crowded campus. The wifi will inevitably not work. It is a learning experience and takes some patience, but vale la pena because you also learn cool things and meet interesting people.
It certainly hasn’t been easy. Some professors are hard to understand, while others are extremely conscientious of the intercambio students and will speak slowly and repeat things often. We don’t have access to the UAH equivalent of Sakai yet, which has been a blessing in disguise, as it forces us to make friends with the other students in our classes. The students here are generally extremely friendly and really willing to help us (one even called out to me when we passed each other on the steps of the metro!). I’ve also been able to meet other international students from all over – Germany, Belgium, France, Mexico, Venezuela, and Brazil.
Part of the program at UAH is a class called Pobreza y Desarrollo, which is a class that focuses on the issues facing Latin America from a social, political, and theological perspective. It also involves volunteering at an organization for four hours each week, immersing the students in parts of Santiago that are less developed than the ones in which we live and study. So starting tomorrow, I will be heading out of my little Santiago bubble and beginning to work at my service site, where I will be hanging out with kids and teens. Vamos a ver, I’m super excited to start and encounter a new community.
While life has certainly slowed down some since the traveling has stopped, it has been anything but boring. What have I been up to, you might ask? Let me fill you in:
Hiking Cerro Manquehito and admiring my beautiful city from above
Planning a surprise party for a dear friend with the help of her sneaky host mom
Exploring the exhibits of Museo Nacional de Las Bellas Artes
Baking Irish soda bread with my friends and host sister to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day
Finding real coffee in a country that seems to only have two extremes: instant and espresso
Eating a Santiago delicacy: a strawberry fields waffle from Buffalo Waffles (imagine this: a waffle filled with nutella, dulce de leche, strawberries, bananas, and topped with whipped cream…heaven)
While I will be back on the road again this weekend traveling with my parents, it’s nice to be growing some deeper roots in Santiago. Stay tuned to hear more about my many adventures to come!
Here it is finally: my blog post for my first trip of the semester! Took me a while to sit down and write it properly…
Kraków, Poland January 26th-31st.
I never in a million years thought I would travel to Poland, let alone Kraków, a city I had never even heard of. There wasn’t any particular reasoning, it was more that I knew nothing of the country and therefore had no desire to travel there.
Serendipity always catches me when I least expect it. Some night in the beginning of the semester, a lot of us were all hanging out in our friend Zach’s apartment. I remember distinctly sitting on his desk when my roommate Cami and our friend Nick said let’s go to Poland. In the matter of an hour, we had booked flights and accommodation—it was all so surreal! As I do when I get excited, I started shrieking with joy, almost bouncing off Zach’s desk. It was going to be my first trip of the semester, for 6 entire days, with 5 other strangers who I would soon call my good friends. Poland here we go!
Like I mentioned, I went to Kraków with five people: Cami (roommate, Argentina), Will (North Dakota, USA), Zach (Michigan, USA), Sam (Adelaide, Australia), and Nick (Auckland, New Zealand). These were still people I barely knew and yet I was about to travel to a different country with them—utter craziness.
The trip began with an early morning, meeting outside the local grocery store, Rema, at approximately 6:00am. Ironically, Sam; the eccentric and lovable Australian, otherwise known as Sammy K, Gutten (The Boy, in Norwegian), and various other names; happens to not show up. Turns out, in anticipation for our big journey, he had woken up at 4am only to fall asleep again and miss his alarm. He miraculously got ready in 10-ish minutes and then we were all set to go, even though Sam was upset he couldn’t perfect his hairstyle for the day (he really loves his hair).
It was funny how little we knew about where to go and what to do to get to the airport. Thankfully Cami is a strong, take-charge Argentinian and while at Oslo Central Station she found a nice gentleman who literally walked us to the Airport Express train we needed to take. While on the train, I dozed off as I was thinking about how I was already leaving Norway when I had only just moved here…
Once at the airport, we got our boarding passes. In the Norwegian airport, to get to the security line, you must scan your boarding pass. Of course, I go first and the pass I scanned wasn’t working. The machine kept saying, “Wrong airport, check boarding pass”. This cumulated in me panicking that we somehow had the wrong airport and that we were basically screwed. Luckily, Nick—who is the most responsible person I think I have ever met—happens to be the intelligent one who realizes that I was trying to scan my boarding pass for our stopover in Trondheim to Kraków, rather than Oslo to Trondheim. Thank the heavens for Nick!
On the plane, Will, Zach and I all sat separately while Cami, Nick, and Sam sat in the same row. It was nice to get some alone time to read my book before such a long trip. Like I always do, I packed an absurd amount of food to eat because I vow never to purchase anything in an airport (don’t ask why, because it is just a weird quirk I have). I gorged on my veggies, bread, and avocado while I awaited landing.
When we arrived, the guys all converted some money—I didn’t because I wanted better rates—and then we found a taxi driver to take us to our hostel. This driver was such a nice guy, and just a wonderful way to start the trip! We asked him how to say basic words in Polish, like “hello”, and “thank you”. The most important word we wanted to know was how to say “cheers” in Polish, which now I know is “Nazdrowie”, pronounced ‘nostrovia’! He told us all about the city, some cool places to go, as well as his home town that was a few hours outside the city. As we drove, I kept getting more and more excited to be in such a different place.
We finally got to our hostel and we couldn’t figure out where it was exactly. The hostel was located in what seemed like an apartment building but we had somehow found the courtyard in the center of it, rather than a front desk to check in. After a few minutes of confusion, this cute, little Polish man greeted us and showed us to our room. We had one room for all six of us with 3 bunk beds. It was cozy, to say the least! Sam and I took the bunk bed in the corner near the window, and he was kind enough to let me have the bottom bed.
Us in the courtyard of the building when we were lost trying to check in to the hostel.The view from the window in the common area.The crew within the first few minutes of entering our room we would call home for 6 days.
Before we had even settled in, the man (who I believe might have been the owner) came back upstairs with six complimentary shots of mint vodka—the best vodka I have ever had in my life. The hostel apparently provides one free shot of vodka a day, and unlimited malt wine—to which we took full advantage of while we were there. I told my Polish friend back in the states about it, and he said that was the most Polish thing he has ever heard. It was a great, culturally infused stay already!
Once unpacked, we left to go exploring. Our hostel was located right outside old town, with the Jewish quarter a short walk away as well. All the roads are cobblestone and the buildings are beautiful and historic. The Wawel Royal Castel and Cathedral was where we watched our first sunset in Kraków, as well as took some group photos.
The group walking in front of Wawel Castle.S/O to Cami for capturing this candid photo of us taking in the views – Nick, me, Zach, Will, SamMy flatmate, Cami and I.The beautiful sunset outside the castle.
We did some of the usual touristy attractions. We went to the Schindler’s Museum, which I highly recommend, as well at toured the Wawel Royal Castel and Cathedral. To gain access we bought tickets for about $2 and it was well worth the money. The cathedral is astonishingly beautiful; however, photographs were forbidden. I snuck a quick one of one room I was in because the ceiling was just too beautiful to ever forget. I was glad we took the time to go there.
Outside the Cathedral.The ceiling I illegally took a photo of because it was so impressively gorgeous.
The Kraków historical foundation provides free walking tours of the city to anyone who wishes to go on one to learn more about the city and its history. Nick, Cami, and I lost the other three guys when we were making our way to get lunch before our 2’oclock tour. Where they went is a story that is better told in person, but because of that setback we didn’t get lunch before the tour began. All the guys and Cami just quickly got McDonalds, but the ethical environmentalist in me would not give in to getting anything from the popular food chain, so I withheld from eating basically the entire day. The tour lasted four long hours in the cold. It was certainly interesting but as I was tired, cold, and starving, I was starting to feel closer to a zombie than an excited tourist. I never, ever miss a meal, so this was quite peculiar for me. I still remember the relief when we finally headed back to our hostel and stopped at a quaint Polish restaurant where I ate my first traditional Polish soup, that will undoubtedly, forever be the best soup I have ever eaten. (It was some fermented soup with a hard-boiled egg and sausage).
On that note, all of Poland is impeccably cheap, and we lived like kings and queens while we were there. The hostel didn’t have a kitchen, so we literally ate out at every single meal and went out on the town every night. It was a nice juxtaposition to Norway, in which absolutely everything is absurdly overpriced and I have yet to eat out even once. For breakfast, we always went to this bagel shop for delicious bagels and coffee. For lunch and dinner, we would try to eat Polish foods, or even just cheap bread that you could get on every street corner by a vender. At night, during and/or after going out, we would always get kebabs—always. I think a really good kebab is probably my favorite meal on this planet. I can’t begin to describe to you how much I miss those massive, two-dollar kebabs with fresh meat and spicy sauce. (Sadly, I have no photographs of the glorious kebabs).
The massive amount of sushi we got for dinner on the first night – Sam even befriended our waiter enough to hug him when we left!My last dinner in Kraków – very Polish, very cheap, and very delicious!
In fact, one our favorite kebab places happened to have a shisha bar beneath it. On our third or fourth night (they kind of blend together at this point), we had gotten kebabs and then decided to spend the night chilling and talking around a big hookah. Instead however, Cami, Nick, and Sam decided they weren’t feeling it and left to go home. That left the three of us: Will, Zach and I. The owner of the bar came over at one point to offer us free tea, and then proceeded to sit down with us for one of the best two hour long conversations of my life. His name was Mustafa, an Egyptian muslim who immigrated to Poland. We talked about so many controversial topics, but in such a respectful, eye-opening manner. We discussed the racism in Poland, what his experience as a Muslim has been, his children, Israel, Syria and the refugees, and more. He was such an open, humble man and I was grateful to share that conversation with Zach and Will. We left the bar around 3am thankful for the time we had spent there.
Some other significant people I met while in Poland were two women from our hostel. One was a 21-year-old Australian, Tess, who we only were able to spend time with for one night before she left the following day for her next adventure. Tess was such a free-living person with a high degree of independence and an aura of maturity beyond her years. One word I would use to describe Tess is fiery. As she is my age, I found it fascinating to get to know her, hear her life story, and learn what she plans to do with her life.
The other woman who made an impact on me was named Brenda, a 60-year-old Brit who has traveled previously to Kraków and returned because she loves it. She, too, was intriguing to me. She had divorced about 10 years prior and now was doing what she had always wanted to do—travel and feel free. I thought she had such courage to do what she was doing, and her story, like Tess’s, really touched me. Us three talked together for hours in the hostel, before Brenda took my friends and I to a great pub in the Jewish district, called Alchemy. We later went to a club to go dancing and I could tell Brenda was having the best time. At one point, she literally pulls me aside and tells me thank you. I asked what for, and she said she was grateful that we made her feel young for the night—that we didn’t treat her as this old woman who was tagging along. I smiled and told her she was the youngest one out of all of us…
The next day, Tess had already left and Brenda was leaving in the afternoon. Before she left, I made sure I said goodbye. She gave me the warmest hug, squeezed my shoulder, and told me not to stress; that I will figure out my life in due time…
Me, Brenda, Cami, and Tess at the end of the night when we went out.
An ironic, funny in retrospect, moment of my trip was when I woke up early one morning to go for a run. We had been out super late the night before, but I had promised myself that I was going to still go for runs while we were in Poland since we were there for such a long time. So, despite a lack of adequate sleep, I somehow woke up naturally at 9am and quietly got dressed to go for a run. Poland was even colder than Norway at the time so I dressed fairly warm and set out for a short run.
Within the first five minutes some woman stopped me and began speaking polish to me. When I said I didn’t speak polish, she waved her hands in defeat and kept walking. Confused, I started up running again. All awhile, everyone I passed kept staring at me. I was slightly uncomfortable to be honest. It made me wonder if Polish people had ever seen a runner before or something. Not 10 minutes later, another woman stopped me on the street and this time when I said I didn’t speak polish, she answered in English. Turns out that the pollution in the city was something like one-hundred times worse than usual and there was a general warning put out to stay indoors. She said I should cut my run short for my health. It scared me, so I ended up only running for 30 minutes and I held my hand over my mouth, almost like a mask, to try limit my inhalations of polluted air.
Upon returning, hence the ‘funny in retrospect’ part of the story, the hostel door was locked and no one was answering the it. I was stuck now in this freezing hallway, sweaty and hungry, with no hope of getting indoors. I messaged my friends in our group chat repeatedly starting from 10:26 to about 10:46 upon which I was just about to give up hope. I decided to knock one last time in desperation, as at this point I was violently shivering from the cold. Suddenly Brenda opens the door!! She heard my knock and apologized for not hearing it sooner (such a sweetheart). I thought I was going to cry I was so happy. I then immediately proceeded to enter our room and screamed for my friends to wake up. They awoke grumpy and confused as to why I was loudly waking them up. I explained and they laughed as they read my messages I sent them while they were sleeping. Looking back, it was pretty funny, but at the time it wasn’t the best… For your entertainment, attached below are my messages I sent to the group. They are quite amusing, now I am sitting here in my warm kitchen with a full stomach…. Again, bless Brenda, my savoir <3
The first set of messages I began to send in our group chatThe more desperate messages followed the longer I was locked outside.
On a different note, another crucial aspect of my venture to Kraków was visiting Auschwitz and Birkenau. About a week before we left, Cami asked if we would be ok with doing a six-hour tour on our second to last day. We all thought that was a good idea, but I was scared about how I would handle it. I am Jewish, and I had family members who had lived and died within the camp. Cami and the guys said they would be there for me, and I appreciated it whilst knowing it would be a difficult day.
I can’t really go into detail about everything I felt and experienced while I was there. I truly hate crying in front of people, even in front of myself for that matter, so at times I wished I were alone as we walked in and out of the buildings of the camp.
After three hours we got a break, and I had not brought any food, nor did I have any desire to eat. I knew I was probably starving, but I felt extremely sick to my stomach and couldn’t image taking a bit of anything. Sam, the sweetheart that he can be, bought me a slice of pizza without me knowing and gave it me. It was a surprisingly kind gesture that I needed to get through the last three hours of the tour.
It was a harrowing, but vital aspect of my trip, and I am grateful I was able to experience it. I highly recommend going if you are ever in Poland.
The entrance to the concentration camp – the only photo I took while there.
Now our trip was coming to a close, and it felt weird. Poland had become our home for what seemed like forever, but in reality it was only 6 days. On our last night, we ate a delicious Polish meal together to close the trip off. Mine, despite its size, cost me approximately $4, including the tea I got for dessert (sorry, still can’t get over how cheap everything was!). Some of my friends, Will specifically, mentioned how they were ready to leave and go home. I, on the other hand, was sad that we had to leave. I loved and still love Poland! I am not sure if it is because it was my first trip, or if it was actually because I loved it, however, I am more certain it is the latter. Even just writing this blog post helped me to remember all the crazy fun times we had there. Poland was the best place I have traveled thus far while studying abroad. It was such an awesome place; so beautiful, and so historical, and with a lovely group of people. I am extremely grateful for how things turned out.
6 weeks left. I can’t believe my flight from Saigon back to Chicago leaves in exactly 6 weeks from now. Sometimes it feels like I have 6 more months to go, and sometimes it feels like I’m supposed to have left already. My outfits have consisted of colorful pants and too-sweaty t-shirts, I have a general disdain for anyone who drives their motorbike on the sidewalk, my wallet is emptier now than I thought it was going to be, and my playlists consist of a mix of travel-inspiring and homesickness songs (Rivers & Roads, anyone?).
I was having a low week a couple of weeks ago where I really didn’t want to be in Saigon anymore, not because of Saigon itself, but just being away from my support system, (first round study abroad homesickness y’all) so I made myself a list of accomplishments. So tacky, I know, but when I looked at all of the things that I’ve done so far, the ways I’ve grown as a traveler and as a person, it’s pretty incredible what can change in the course of a couple of months.
Everyone usually hates when I remind them how much time we have left because it’s a gentle reminder of the idea of returning home and the pressure of not missing out on anything while we’re still here. In honor of the limited time left, I took advantage of this past weekend to visit the southern half of Thailand before jetting back over to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for a concert. Once again, I had a day where I was in three different countries in the course of 24 hours, which is unfathomable to me seeing as before I showed up to Vietnam, I had been in ONE other country other than the US. Many expats and Viet-Kieu (Vietnamese who grew up outside of Vietnam and have returned) that I’ve met are very surprised to hear that Vietnam was my second country. As I’ve found, Vietnam is not for the weak or the faint-hearted, let alone solo-traveling around SE Asia. In all, my trip to Thailand consisted of 24 hours in Bangkok, two and a half days in Krabi, Thailand, and 24 hours in Kuala Lumpur. Here are a few of the more interesting little moments I observed in my time in Thailand:
The Wai: The Thai greeting consists of a slight bow with palms pressed together in front of you. It’s similar to the Indian namaste and the Cambodian sampeah This in itself isn’t the most interesting thing I saw, but it was the fact that as people were driving their motorbikes, they would BOW to other people as they got into another lane, kind of like the wave we do in the US. If you’ve ever driven a motorbike, you understand how difficult this is to do. Most didn’t press their hands together, but still. Also this is completely different from the way that Vietnamese drive what with the intense beeping, constant cutting off of each other, and the skillful avoidance of accidents (for the most part).
Speaking of motorbikes, I finally had a female grab driver! Since being in Vietnam I’ve had one woman taxi driver and not a single woman grab driver. Needless to say, I did a little internal fist pump. I also watched someone flossing while driving their motorbike, and also saw someone driving with an open flame in their basket. Y’all, literally ANYTHING happens on a motorbike. If you can imagine it, it happens.
The death of the king: It’s been more than 100 days, but people are still paying their respects to the King at the Grand Palace and huge murals and pictures of him are everywhere. Never have I seen such deep respect for someone who’s passed away.
Evolution: As I pulled away from the Krabi airport, I noticed there were street signs with pictures of what Krabi used to look like… 3 million years ago?? After getting in at 9pm, I had some questions.
Cute couple things: Putting in eye drops for each other, but continuously missing. I don’t know why I found this hilarious, but I guess on your fourth flight in 6 days, anything outside of the safety instruction is comic relief.
Scales outside of every convenience store: Because who doesn’t want to know what they weigh after unashamedly stuffing themselves with three rolls of oreos and cheap drinks.
Other things of interest included motorized uni-wheels, a golden monk blessing a group of small children and a husky café.
Aside from the basically normal (but interesting to me) little moments, I saw beautiful cliffs and beaches in Krabi, rock climbed until my arms gave out on an outdoor 5.10 route, and had a life-changing night at the Bethel worship night in Kuala Lumpur. I’m extremely blessed to be here in Vietnam, and it does come with its challenges. On Thursday our group heads out for 12 days on the road through Central and North Vietnam where we’ll get to see a whole different side of the country. Homesickness can be hard, but letting it stop me from taking in all that I can while I’m here is not on the agenda. I’ve been pushed to find inspiration in places I never have before and have learned what it’s like to be truly independent and how to love alone time. The lessons I’m walking away with can’t fully be captured in words, but I hope I’ll be able to hold on to what I’ve learned here long past when I return home to the States. For now, I still have more cafes to discover, more mountains to climb, more papers to write, and more life to live. Catch you on the flipside!
Here’s some more musings:
“The man on top of the mountain didn’t fall there” – Vince Lombardi
Novaturient (adj): A desire to change and alter your life.
Coddiwomple (v): To travel purposefully towards a vague destination.
The average college students Spring break is normally spent with dozens of their closest friends, traveling to a tropical place involving lots of sun, sleep, and partying- right? As the non traditional girl I am, I traveled to 50 degree weather – 18 degrees for the non North Americans- France with nothing but my laptop, camera, and tiny carry on suitcase. No travel buddies. No cell phone data. Nothing but me, myself, and I. Seems scary, right? WRONG.
My original plan was to meet my friend in London for the second half of my Spring Break, but I decided to take the off beaten path and leave early to do some exploring by myself. I was, in fact about to jump on a plane and travel to another English speaking country and I really just wanted a little time to myself- or an excuse to do something I had never done. I had never been to France, somewhere that has always called me to travel to, and I knew that even if I had the opportunity to travel to Paris in the future, the experience for seeing the country for the first time wouldn’t be the same if I saw it with friends. So, I booked a last minute connection from Rome-Paris and packed my bags for an adventure of a lifetime.
For context, I partially knew the French language- Thanks to my amazing high school French teacher, Madame Dykes (repos en paix, doux ange). Even with enough French to get by, I have never had the opportunity to speak it in a live situation, besides the few times I would translate simple words on makeup boxes for customers at Sephora (but believe me “eau de toilet” or “gel douche pour femme” doesn’t prepare you for social situations). It didn’t help that I would also confuse my newfound Italian knowledge when replying to waiters like, “si” instead of the obvious “oui”. No matter, I still mustered up the courage to order everything in the best American accented French that I could and it worked every time- expect the first few times when I would say “io… oops I mean je… uhhh scusi moi, je parle anglais”
So being in a city for a little over 24 hours wasn’t enough to immerse myself in its culture, but I wanted to try to gain as much French street knowledge as I could during my time so I booked an Airbnb Experience – a new creation on Airbnb’s websites that allows you to book tours, dinners, or excursions in the cities you’re traveling to. I decided to book an art gallery tour and dinner at Les Frigos, a famous art gallery from the 80’s and 90’s that still houses the studios and galleries of well renowned Parisian artists. I took a short tour of 4 amazing artist who answered all of my silly questions, like “what material is this made out of?” and even entertained me with stories behind some of their ongoing projects. I surprisingly was the only one on this tour- mainly because it was Thursday and it was Fashion Week, so I assume #priorities for locals and other tourist were elsewhere- but it made for a more intimate time with the artists which I appreciated. I even got to play with one of the artist’s dogs– a win in my book. One artist in particular was Italian and thought it would be fun to tell his part of the tour in Italian once he realized I was studying in Rome, which I somehow completely understood (I’m guessing Italian 102 really is retaining???) and even held a conversation with him- funny how small the world is sometimes.
I ended the night with a fantastic Parisian dinner, hosted by my new friend, Emilie of The Office, La Table d’Hotes. She owns her own dinner hosting service, where people are invited to share a classic 4 course French meal at her table that is housed inside her father’s old art studio on Les Frigos. We talked over wine, munching on real hors d’oeuvres and discussed everything from outrages American wedding proposals to French cuisine and culture and dined with two other guests who brought even more amazing conversation to the table.
I left Les Frigos feeling more cultured, very welcomed, and most of all like I accomplished something on my own that I never would have in the past. Never in my life would I have had the guts to book a plane ticket to Paris- let alone go there by myself. To travel on the tube navigating my way without data or Google Maps, more impotatntly. Walking into neighborhoods where I knew not one person. Seeing sights on my time. Exploring my new favorite place on Earth…until now. A Bientot, Paris.
