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Thailand and Tết!

Thailand and Tết!

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These past two weeks have been busy, busy, and more busy. Now that I have hit the one month marker, I feel I have finally relaxed into my life as a study abroad student living in Vietnam. After a few nights of disbelief, stress, and even some discomfort, I think the adjustment has (almost) been made.

Classes have been wonderful! Majority of the classes are directly taught through a lens of Vietnam and/or Southeast Asia and offer a viewpoint I haven’t had the privilege to be exposed to until now. Specifically, my Literature course and Religion course are rooted directly in material of Vietnam and Southeast Asia and the readings for both classes are some I don’t think I would just stumble across myself on my own. Being able to immerse myself in the culture of Vietnam and learn about the nation from professors that are either Vietnamese or have studied and lived here for years is one of the reasons I chose this center for my study abroad semester. I am happy to report that the classes have lived up and went beyond what I thought they would be.

Soooo I know I just gushed about Vietnam like I usually do (I bet my friends and family are tired of hearing me do the same everyday), but I actually travelled this past week outside of Vietnam! This week marks the start of Tết, which is one of (if not the most) important holiday in Vietnam. It is the national celebration of the Lunar New Year and takes place over this entire week, with the core celebrations being the 16th through the 18th. We have no classes during this holiday and have had significant time off which we can use to travel. Myself and a few of my friends in the program decided this would be a great time to take a trip to Chiang Mai, Thailand!

Lemme tell you, Chiang Mai is pretty different compared to the bustling nature of Saigon. Our hotel was on the edge of Old Town (the square center town part of Chiang Mai) and was in a relatively quiet area, a stark contrast to district ten of Saigon. Our first day we landed and immediately went straight for Pad Thai. I thought Pad Thai in the states was good but, y’all I was so wrong. We walked around some markets and the night bazaar as well as the various Buddhist temples within the city. The sheer amount of beautiful structure and architecture we got to see was amazing.

One of my favorite experiences was the Thai cooking class we went to. We were picked up from our hotel bright and early to visit a food market and learn about some of the ingredients we were going to cook with. We were then taken to the cooking class were we physically chopped all our ingredients, made our own curry paste, and cooked everything ourselves with help from our instructor Peanut (I know amazing, right?). We made three meals: A stir-fry, a soup, and a curry as well as Thai iced tea. We had a few options for each and I decided to go with cashew chicken stir-fry, coconut chicken soup, and a Kao Soi/Chiang Mai curry. Of course, everything was delicious and I think I may have to try out for Masterchef next season (hopefully they only want Thai food). We got a cute little cook book of all the recipes which I am super grateful so that I don’t royally destroy my kitchen and local supermarket looking for the ingredients I don’t remember the name of and making the dishes.

 

                                                                                                                              

The next day we went to and elephant sanctuary because if you don’t go to one, were you really in Thailand (I kid, I promise). Of course we made sure we went to one that was definitely cruelty free and didn’t allow any riding and we were happy to find a bunch of places that did have rave reviews that ensured the treatment of the elephants is just. Once we arrived, we changed into some clothing over our own and started to chop up some sugar cane to feed the elephants. The guide ensured that their goal of the sanctuary was to keep the elephants healthy and happy (and that sugar cane is some of their favorite snacks). The elephants we got to see were elephants rescued from a riding company, had worked for farms when they were younger, and/or had been in the circus. The three large elephants had been rescued and included an older one deemed the “grandma” and two middle aged elephants. The last one was a 2-year-old baby that had been born at the sanctuary. We got to feed them the sugar cane we chopped, which was an experience and a half. They were all so gentle and sweet and hungry. The guide told us each elephant has a personality and that the younger one likes to be “naughty” which was definitely proved when he kept dropping every piece of sugar cane we gave him. After a brief walk, we got to go into a river/stream and bathe the elephants, which again was quite the adventure in itself. Afterwards we said our goodbyes and headed back to our hotel.

                            

Upon returning to Saigon, we have Tết getting closer and closer. A majority of the students here are going home with their Vietnamese partner students from Bach Khoa University to visit their hometowns. Saigon is supposed to get immensely quiet during Tết as majority of the people are not from the city and leave to go to their home providences to celebrate the holiday among family. I have a lot of work to catch up on for classes (classic Emily) as well as I don’t want to get burnt out because we have another excursion coming up at the end of February to Cambodia and decided to stay in the dorm during the holiday. My partners do have other students coming to visit their home town and I am very very very excited to hear about the experiences and see pictures!

As the half way point draws close for this semester, I am sad to know it is going by so quickly. I had Déjà vu stepping out of the Saigon airport coming back from Thailand and it felt like I had just landed in Vietnam for the first time. I’ll close out as the reoccurring theme of the random food pics I take throughout my time here!

                             
The Joys & Pains of Solo Travel

The Joys & Pains of Solo Travel

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Solo travel. What is it?

Could be a trip across town using good ol’ solid public transportation. Could be making your way downtown, walking fast, faces pass and you’re homebound. Could be taking any journey on your own through a path you’ve never taken before. For me, my first truly solo experience was my trip to Naples & Pompei: three days in two cities in one country that is still pretty foreign to me. Given, I am independent by nature. I don’t typically need to rely on anyone to get a job done and I definitely didn’t want anything to hold me back from being able to pursue a trip that would make a great story. So, while my friends packed their bags to go to Munich for the weekend, I departed in a separate direction to the Northern half of Italy.

Traveling solo is an experience that is typically marketed as “easy” …for men. Men and women simply aren’t subject to the same variation of dangers that travel entails. While traveling in any group to any place should be approached with caution and research (let’s not be naive here), men have it easier. That’s just the way it is! And don’t worry, I’ll always be salty about it. Women have to worry about what clothes they pack, their demeanor on the streets so as not to attract the wrong kind of attention, and keeping an eye on the closest exit at all times. It’s a STRUGGLE. But if you can pull it off, not only does it give you amazing street cred, it gives you a personal sense of intense satisfaction that, hell yeah, you are officially a solo traveller.

First things first, be prepared. I can not stress enough how much smoother a trip will pan out if you do your freaking research on the area. This includes transportation to and from the city, to and from your lodging, whether to book an Airbnb or hostel or hotel, what landmarks are nearby and how long it takes to get there, and my favorite, where to eat! So basically: location, transportation, lodging, fun and food. Once you have your plans set, all it takes is a bit of a pep talk, a backpack of necessities, and you’re good to go!

Approach a solo trip like a friend who won’t judge you if you decide to sleep in till noon, who will let you eat what you want when you want to, who will officially let you switch on your Do Not Disturb mode. It is a time for relaxation and adventure and exploration and venturing into the unknown! Treat yo self! There’s no telling what you’ll see and do! Diving headfirst with an open mind is as liberating as you make it. It’s like that cheesy quote:

Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

Now that’s not to say you should jump at every opportunity. While there’s no one there to judge you if you said yes, trust yourself to deny the potential for an absurd story, and realize your own company is far more satisfying. No one knows you like you know yourself. I wasn’t prepared for the times I wished I could turn to a friend and say, “You need to try this!” or “Did you see that?!” And if you and your friends go separate ways, FOMO is real and it’s a downer. You have to fend for yourself in more ways than one. The amount of times I’ve been a target of heavy catcalling is enough to make me never want to leave my room!! Needless to say, I definitely perfected my mean muggin’, don’t-even-look-in-my-direction face when the sketch-o-meter was high.

But you know what? I was responsible for ma own self. I am capable. I forced myself out of my comfort zone and experienced a trip  that is unique to me. I can say I went to Naples and Pompei and navigated through a foreign city unscathed. I trust myself to protect my being against social and physical dangers and also to be a good judge of character when needed.

If you’re considering a solo trip, go for it! It’ll build your confidence, help you appreciate yourself a little more, and change the minds of people who think it’s impossible. Sure it’s a little scary and awkward. But all in all, if you’re smart and aware, and don’t let people hold you back from experiencing life and the world and all it has to offer, you won’t regret the experience. I know I don’t.

-Andrea

From the Ground Up

From the Ground Up

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On Friday, February 9, I traveled to Napoli (Naples) with 7 members of my science class and our professor Stefania Galdiero. A native to Naples, Stefania studies the chemistry used in producing pharmaceuticals. Our class is titled Science of Italian Art, and in it, we talk about the many ways science and art overlap. (Think: DaVinci using his artistic talents to create accurate diagrams of human anatomy.) Stefania showed us around Naples for a day, taking us on a tour of the university lab where she works, as well as tours of a nearby Accademia di belle arte (really cool college for art students), and the underground caverns that helped shape the city.

The Accademia in Naples is one of the busiest, most prominent of all the accademie in Italy. Every major city has one, they are essentially museums and spaces to hold huge collections of fine art. David, the star of last week’s post, is housed in the Accademia of Firenzi. The one we visited in Naples is not only a home for works of art, but a school for young artists themselves. The walls are lined with sculptures donated by artists for the students to practice sketching and painting. Students at the accademia study there for five years, before going on to become cinematographers, painters, musicians and actors. One of our guides boasted at the workshop adjacent to the stage, where students and professors design and build all of the set pieces for the plays put on in the college. No other college in Europe, according to our guide, builds their own stage materials that they use in their plays. I couldn’t help but imagine what day to day life might be like for the students here. How much fun it must be to study sculpture, restoration, or cinema in a place like this. The few students that were there on Friday afternoon would laugh and share a cigarette with the professors they passed, before bounding down one of the open air hallways on their way to the studio. It was thrilling to see the workshops and spaces where artists of the future were learning and perfecting their crafts.

For lunch, of course, we had pizza. Now, the story goes that impoverished people in Naples were among the first to start adding tomato to their flatbread as a topping. Much of Europe believed the tomato to be poisonous when it was first brought in from the Americas in the 16th century. Once enough people figured out that tomatoes were not killers, pizza was born. As the dish gained popularity, more people traveled to Naples to try it, even venturing into the poorer parts of the city where the food was first created. The pizza I had in Naples was very good, (I had a veggie pizza with spinach, artichoke, and mushroom) but it was nothing life changing or magical as the hype had led me to believe. (Remember, I’m from Chicago)  That being said, if you’re ever on the hunt for the perfect slice, Naples is a great place to start. I only tried it at one restaurant so there is plenty of uncharted cheesy territory left to explore.

After lunch, we squeezed down into what some refer to, creepily, as the womb of Naples. 40 meters below the bustling city is a complex labyrinth of tunnels that have been used for various purposes since the Greeks founded the city in the 7th century BC. First, a quarry was dug out to provide materials with which to literally build the city. The stone and metals from the Earth were used during the construction of Naples. The underground passages and caverns have an area larger than the city itself, and it was all carved by hand with chisels, hammers, and muscle. Looking up at the high ceilings, we could see the marks and divots left by the workers’ chisels. Decades later, the caves were filled with water and used as the city’s aqueduct system. Those who lived there used wells to access and bring up the water as they needed it. The smallest workers would climb down the walls of the well to clean the inside of the reservoirs as needed. Our guide told us that wealthy families would sometimes pay the workers extra to make sure their portion of the aqueduct was always full of clean water, often leaving others to deal with empty or dirty wells. For about 60 years, the caverns were used as the city’s garbage dump, but was cleaned up at the beginning of World War II. The space then provided shelter for Neapolitans as thousands of bombs were dropped on the city over the course of the war. In many ways, the caverns underneath Naples allowed for the city’s survival.

Overall, Naples is a very exciting place. The streets are alive with activity like they are in Rome. Motorcycles and scooters whiz by you on what you thought was a sidewalk, and every corner has a vendor selling something that smells delicious. There is graffiti on every building and a lot of garbage around. Some of the people in our group thought it was a bit too dirty, but I liked the artsy creative feel of every alley. I liked that the city doesn’t try to be too neat, or perfect. It just lives. Naples has been doing things differently since it created pizza in the 1700s and they don’t plan on changing their ways any time soon. While most of our group stayed in Naples for the weekend, I decided to make it a day trip. Even though it was only one day, I felt that I had seen and done plenty by the end of it. I realized this week that I don’t have to visit a new country or city every weekend. Planning these trips can be very stressful, especially on a student budget. I almost forgot that Rome alone is full of adventure and things to see. So I came back to Rome that evening, excited to get to know the city I started in.

 

 

Just outside the entrance to La Accademia di Belle Arte

The Courtyard of La Accademia                                                                                                                                         What the ancient aqueducts had looked like

 

The original Pizza!

 

 

 

 
Spring in Spain

Spring in Spain

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I’ve only been in Spain for one month, but sometimes it feels like a week and other times a year.

I started off the first two weeks getting to know Madrid, the city I’m living in. At first, Madrid seemed huge, like a bigger version of Chicago, when I was looking at the maps. Thankfully, the family I have here walked me around all day (seriously, I had to wear comfortable shoes) and I got to know it pretty well. Madrid’s public transportation is just as good as Chicago’s, but you definitely walk around a lot more here; just keep in mind even the sneakers here are stylish.

Now that I’ve gotten to know the city better, I’ve become accustomed to wandering around streets in between classes or going to El Retiro, a big public park that used to belong to the Royal Family. I think I got a little too confident with how easily I adjusted to Madrid because I let my guard down and got my phone stolen while shoe shopping! It was pretty inconvenient, but I survived and got a really cheap one here, and it just became a lesson to keep tabs on my belongings at all times and listen when people tell me Madrid is known for pickpocketing.

As for traveling, I’ve stayed in Spain so far, but I’ve gone to other cities like Segovia, Salamanca, Granada, and Toledo. I highly recommend getting a guided tour because the things you learn are worth the money. I got lucky going to SLU Madrid because they offered day trips with a tour guide

to some of the cities, and it helped me get to know other students who are now my friends. Even if you aren’t interested in the trips, it’s an easy way to meet other students you’re in class with.

Coming from Chicago, I thought it’d be a bit warmer. But yesterday we had our first snowfall since I’ve been here. It was beautiful, but I was unprepared for the weather, so I highly recommend a good coat. Even if the weather is nice when you go, packing a couple of sweaters never hurts.

The hardest part about living here is trying to balance study with travel. I’ve taken to doing homework all day, in between my classes as well as after, so that I have my weekends free to travel. I also use the time on buses to catch up on my reading for class.

Of course, I still have some adjustments to make, like getting used to how late they have lunch and dinner here, but it’s totally worth it!

 
A Series of (Un)fortunate Events

A Series of (Un)fortunate Events

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Spain has been home for almost two weeks, and in this past week I have been hit with more bad luck than I imagined would happen in the whole semester. I like to consider myself a generally prepared and organized person, but despite all of my preparation for the semester, everything seemed to go wrong this past week.

I thought it was bad getting sick in Chicago while my mom was 3.5 hours away in Michigan, but that was nothing compared to getting sick in Spain, with my family being over 4,000 miles away. We arrived in Salamanca on Sunday evening, and Monday was spent taking our placement exams and exploring the city. Salamanca is beautiful, especially the Plaza Mayor at night. My classes started at noon on Tuesday, and I decided I was going to wake up early so that I could eat breakfast and relax a little bit before going to class. When I woke up though, I felt as though I had been run over by a train. My muscles ached, my throat was aggressively sore, and I had a splitting headache. I popped a few dayquil, had some tea with breakfast, and assumed that this was just my body being upset with me for being out a little late the night before. Being in class was miserable– I could barely keep my eyes open and my body hurt so badly that I wasn’t able to focus at all.

I am living with a host family this semester: my parent’s names are Gloria and Jonas, and it is the three of us living together in an apartment. Neither of them speak English, which has been so amazing for my Spanish skills, but was difficult when I was sick. In introductory Spanish classes they teach you basic vocabulary for many topics (I remember having a unit on doctors and sickness in Spanish four), but I didn’t have the vocab to say more than simple things like me duele la garganta, la cabeza, y los músculos. I knew I should go to the farmacia, where Spaniards go to get medicine before they go to a doctor (you’re able to get more than just over the counter medicine here, it’s a lot different than in the US), but I was dreading it because of my lack of Spanish medical knowledge. Luckily, I never had to go because Gloria gave me some medicine that made me feel better within hours. I spent most of the week in bed, though, because my body was absolutely exhausted. I talked to a lot of friends who had been abroad, and apparently it’s super common to get sick in your first few weeks because traveling takes a huge toll on your body.

By Thursday I was feeling a lot better, which I was very thankful for since API had a planned excursion to visit Sevilla this past weekend! Things were looking up– I felt better, and I was about to go explore a beautiful city with some friends. The city was stunning. My friends and I spent the first evening exploring, ate some delicious gelato, and went out on the town for a little bit. The next day we saw the Real Alcázar, the Cathedral, and then had more free time! My friends Harrison, Nicolas, and I spent our siesta time on the roof of our hotel, which had a patio overlooking the city, and then Alyssa and I went out exploring again until it was time for dinner! Everything was so wonderful, and I was loving the city.

 Here are me and my friends Cady, Sofia, Kim, and Alyssa at the Real Alcázar!

That night, we went out again, and at about 3 am (nightlife starts late in Spain, I’m usually a grandma who goes to bed at 11 pm, what has this country done to me??), I realized that my purse had been unzipped, and that my phone and wallet were no longer in it. I froze, and felt my heart drop. This was my nightmare. I was in a foreign country with no phone and no money. I always tried to make sure I was paying attention to my purse and thought I did a good job but like my dad said, people who pickpocket for a living are far better at stealing than you are at protecting. I called my dad in a panic from a friend’s phone, and we cancelled my credit card and put my phone on lockdown mode. In that moment, as I was crying on the side of a road in Sevilla, I felt utterly defeated and as though nothing could go my way. But, God has a way of creeping in and reminding me that She’s going to take care of me. I lost my ID, but the week before I left I renewed my license because it was due to expire in April when I turn 21, so a new on is on its way to me soon. My dad also realized that even though he never insures our phones, my phone happened to still have insurance. That means that a replacement phone is getting to my dad tomorrow, and will then be sent to me! Most importantly, my passport was in my hotel room, and I only lost the 20€ that was in my wallet.

Sunday we packed up the bus and headed back to Salamanca. We left at 2 PM, and were supposed to arrive in Salamanca around 9. But, of course, when we were a little less than halfway into the trip, our bus broke down in the middle of nowhere. We were about 1 km away from a little town called Torremejía, where we set up camp for a few hours. We had no idea how long fixing the bus would take, so we explored the village. As we were walking around, off in the distance we heard music and saw a group of people in the streets. We decided to go see what was going on and to our surprise, it was a group of maybe 50 dancers and 20 people on a giant percussion contraption parading around the streets. A girl from Torremejía came up to us and asked why we were there– it was a town of about 2,300 people, so our group stuck out like a sore thumb. She told us that this was a group called Comparsa Las Monjas, and that they were practicing for a parade they were going to be in next week. Although our bus had broken down in the middle of nowhere, seeing them practice was without a doubt the highlight of my time in Spain so far. I highly suggest checking them out on Facebook, they are such a cool group!! We didn’t end up getting back to Salamanca until about 1:30 AM, but that didn’t even bother me because of the amazing experience we had had in Torremejía.

As this week (and especially this weekend) happened, I had moments where I felt utterly defeated, but I also had amazing moments that I am so thankful for. Everything seemed to go wrong, but like my dad also said, bad experiences make for great stories down the road. Yes, I am annoyed that I have 11€ in cash and that I have to use my computer in order to communicate, but I am safe and surrounded by loving and supportive friends and family, both in Salamanca and back home. Before I left, a close family friend sent me a card filled with love and wishes that I would have many experiences that would bring me closer to God as I traveled. Although this week felt like a disaster, I can’t help but reflect on how thankful I am for my dad, who helps me stay calm as I feel like my life is falling apart. For my friends, who sit with me on the side of the road in a city we don’t know, and who give me hope and encouragement as I feel like my life is falling apart. For this experience, the good, the bad, and everything in between. And for God, who reminds me that even though things go wrong, She is always looking out for me. 

David’s Home

David’s Home

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Michelangelo’s famous sculpture of David is bigger than you think, trust me. If you’ve never seen it in person, (or even if you have) odds are you’ll be amazed when you find yourself staring up, mouth agape, at the seventeen-foot-tall, marble depiction of the Old Testament’s most famous underdog. You might also be surprised, as I was, to find out that Michelangelo was not the first artist to try transforming that marble slab into something beautiful. In fact, the statue was originally commissioned by the Overseers of the Office of Works of the Duomo, now one of Florence’s most famous churches (pictured below).

In 1464, the church commissioned Augostino di Duccio, a student of Donatello, to construct a David for the project. He failed to create much more than a rough outline of the legs. Ten years later, another one of Donatello’s disciples, Antonio Rossellino, tried his hand. Rossellino was afraid that the previous work done on the marble had weakened it so much that it would never support a statue of such great size and weight, so he too failed to complete the sculpture. Fast forward to 1501, the marble block has now been lying dormant in the Duomo workshop for 25 years, naturally eroding in the elements, when a young Michelangelo agrees to do what the others could not. At this point, Michelangelo had recently finished carving his pieta, a statue depicting The Virgin Mary grieving over the body of Jesus. This work would go on to be recognized as one of his masterpieces, arguably second only to the statue of David. 

Michelangelo took a block of old, discarded marble, and created one of the world’s most renowned sculptures. He didn’t protest, nor did he refuse the job because it seemed too daunting to others, he took what he was given and worked. His work paid off, as the completed statue was instantly recognized as a masterpiece. Partially because David was so stunning, those at the Duomo decided that it could not go on the roof, over 200 feet above Florence, but that it had to be on the ground, where it could be seen up close. First, David’s home was the Piazza della Signoria, but was later moved to its current location inside the Academia Museum which is where I got to see it this past weekend.

I think there’s a powerful lesson, not just in Michelangelo’s perseverance, but in the story of David’s changing locations. David was originally going to be part of a twelve piece series that would display on the roof of the Duomo. He ended up standing solo inside a different building. Even though it wasn’t clear where he was headed, David stands tall, guarding and representing the great city of Firenzi all the same. I guess I just have to appreciate the symbolism between David and young people who travel. Many of the students here at the JFRC often have no idea what country they’re going to be in next week, myself included. It is very freeing but at the same time extremely unsettling. One of the things that surprised me most about this semester has been how uncomfortable I have been. Being in new places, plunged into a new language, and unsure of pretty much everything can take a toll on anyone. Seeing David today reminded me that there is beauty in not knowing. Michelangelo likely had his doubts about that old marble he agreed to work with. The city didn’t know where their awesome new mascot would end up, but in the end, it worked out okay.

It can be difficult to explain to someone at home. When I tell friends in Chicago about a challenge here, about something that frustrated me or a time I was worried, they always say the same thing: “I can’t believe you’re complaining about being in Rome.” True, I am very lucky to be exploring Europe and I won’t forget what a great opportunity this is. That being said, culture shock is more real than I thought it would be. When I got to Florence it was seven AM, cold, and rainy. The sun hadn’t come up yet. We couldn’t check into our hostel until two PM. I was anything but comfortable as I had no clue where to go, or what the next 24 hours would look like. These circumstances at home would be nothing more than an inconvenient way to start a day. But take away the comfort of knowing exactly where your bed is, knowing that your family is close by, and shrink your language skills to those of a ten-year-old, and the situation changes. I knew I had my two friends Victoria and Chloe with me though, so I knew that together we would be just fine in this new place.

Once we started, we couldn’t be stopped. We toured the Uffizi museum, haggled with pushy leather salesmen in the street markets, (Chloe got a killer leather jacket down from $290 to $120) stumbled upon a parade, found a vinyl record store, and had some of the best fast food at 1950 American Diner. After all was said and done, my short weekend in Florence was my favorite part of the semester so far. I know I want to go back when the weather warms up, even though it would mean breaking my one rule of never visiting the same place twice. Sometimes, to squeeze the most out of life, you just have to do some things you didn’t plan.

If Michelangelo could make a masterpiece with discarded marble, I can make my way through a semester full of uncertainty.

Victoria (Left) and Chloe (Right) The drinks at Art Bar are as fun to eat as they are to drink.
David, who’s nickname is “Manu Fortis” which means Strong of Hand. This is likely why Michelangelo chose to make David’s right hand extra large.
The Arno River in Florence
The extensive collection at Move On, a vinyl store and restaurant.
Not Like Me

Not Like Me

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I have been in Rome for a little over three weeks now, and when I started to brainstorm this blog post, I wasn’t quite sure what to write about. So much has happened! I’ve taken a trip with the JFRC; I’ve gone to Florence and Pisa with friends; I’ve seen the pope!!! Rather than listing everything I’ve done, though, I thought I could use this blog post to reflect on my experience so far. During orientation, the JFRC staff members encouraged us to explore Rome and to get lost in Rome. They said this is the best way to find cool things! Among all these reminders, one thing really stuck in my head: Go to a place, and don’t try to change it. Don’t try to make it like you. See what’s different, and let it be different. So while I’m here in Rome this semester, I am challenging myself to embrace this different country, language, and lifestyle. Sometimes it’s scary to be surrounded by so much difference. But in the few weeks I’ve been here, I’ve already noticed how it feels to adventure and let a place be different. And let that different place make you a little different too! So here are a few things I’ve noticed so far…

In Rome, meals take forever. They tell you that before you get here, but you think it’s going to be an exaggeration. During my orientation trip to Agropoli, Italy, we sat at lunch one day for over three hours. And while the food was amazing (we had these hush puppy-type things that were so good), we all got pretty antsy. I have always been a quick eater, so these meals were a little challenging at first. I still get frustrated when, at the end of a meal, you have to ask the waiter for the check or he won’t bring it for what feels like hours. Italians are social creatures! They like slow digestion and good dinner conversations! Long meals are starting to feel more normal to me, and I’m trying my best to enjoy my dinner company and the food I get to eat (and the wine I get to drink).

A goat cheese stuffed tomato on arugula, balsamic, and pesto.

Lasagna from Florence!

So much gelato.

Because I go to school in Chicago and try to travel around the city when I can, I am used to public transportation that is reliable and runs on a strict schedule. In Rome, on the other hand, bus drivers go on strike fairly often. Busses don’t run on any schedule we’ve been able to figure out. I’ve sat on a bus twice now that has broken down on the way home. My friends were stuck behind a bus today that had caught on fire. I’m not saying that I never use the busses here (I actually just bought a monthly bus pass yesterday), but walking has become my new favorite mode of transportation. The city of Rome is very walkable, and it makes me feel better to know I’m walking off some of the calories I’m eating! Similar to the long meals, I have started to become accustomed to the fact that getting somewhere will probably take a while, whether I’m walking there or bussing there. The Italians like to take their time, so I’m trying to be patient and enjoy what’s happening around me at all times!

Us walking around in Florence!

In Rome, people don’t usually have dryers in their homes. We have dryers here at the JFRC, but they don’t work very well. So my roommate and I have been hang-drying our clothes around our room. We like it because we save the 2 euro we would spend on a dry cycle, and we buy gelato instead! It’s a good trade off if you ask me.

More gelato!

Breakfast here is much lighter compared to breakfast in the US. I even heard someone call Italian breakfast “dessert for breakfast.” While I miss pancakes and hash browns and bacon and drip coffee very dearly, I am actually really enjoying the cappuccino and cornetto I have for breakfast every morning. Cornettos are basically croissants that have filling (I always get the Nutella filled ones) and powdered sugar or some kind of glaze on top. And cappuccinos are so foamy and probably better for me than the large coffees I get at home.

One of the best cornettos yet!

The best cappuccino I’ve had so far. This was in Pisa!

All that being said, I’ve found it’s important to find a few things that remind you of home. I still enjoy a good Coca Cola and some peanut M&Ms. And I’m really craving a good cheeseburger (even though I’ve resisted going to an Italian McDonald’s). Finding a balance between new and familiar is important to prevent burnout, and I’m learning how much I can handle as I go! I’m really excited to see where the next few months take me.

Thanks for reading,

Ciao!

Our group in Pisa.

Front row for the Papal Audience!
Off to a late start

Off to a late start

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I’m writing this on the last leg of my flight from Chicago to Accra, on a date much later than I was expecting.

 

It hasn’t been the easiest journey.

 

I was vaccinated with yellow fever, typhoid, and hepatitis A in November at Northwestern Medical Hospital in downtown Chicago. The latter two immunizations were at the recommendation of the nurse who took care of me, but the former is required to enter Ghana. The nurse gave me a small yellow card verifying my shots that could fit inside my passport, and she stamped and signed it to send me on my way.

 

I had my visa, my flight, and now my vaccinations. 26 January was quickly approaching.

 

On the evening of 26 January, I double and triple checked that I was prepared before I left for O’Hare. I said some prayers to calm my nerves in my taxi on the way there. I met the young woman with whom I’d be traveling. We entered the line for security and she dropped her passport, making everthing inside it go flying — her boarding pass, her ID, her yellow fever card.

 

My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew exactly where my own yellow fever card was, but it wasn’t in my passport, my wallet, or my backpack. It wasn’t even in Chicago.

 

I called my mom and told her where to look in my bedroom at home in Ohio. She found it right where I said it was, in an envelope six hours east of me.

 

I didn’t get on my flight that night. If I had, I’d have been kept at border control in Accra until I could prove I had been vaccinated.

 

Now, it’s 31 January and I’m on this plane with four hours to Kotoka. I’ve missed three days of my program, including move-in and orientation. I haven’t met any other students in the program, haven’t seen the campus.

 

Until I boarded this flight I was sick to my stomach. So much has already gone wrong, and I’ve feared that there would be more misfortune to come. I don’t think the pit in my stomach will go away until my feet are in my dorm room at the University of Ghana International Student House.

 

An envelope from Ohio arrived at the apartment of a very dear friend a few days ago, containing my yellow fever card and a note from my mom. She said knew how upset I was, she knew what it meant to me that I couldn’t get on my first flight. She knew I was blaming myself for forgetting that document in my room in Ohio. She told me failure happens and has always happened and will always happen. She told me I could give up and be swallowed by myself, or I could fight to get where I wanted to go.

 

So far, I’ve taken some big risks in my life. I go to school at Loyola Chicago, far away from my first home. Right now I’m choosing to study abroad in a city in West Africa and I’m traveling by myself. Why did I decide to do these things? Why didn’t I play it safe? I was safe in Ohio, I feel safe in Chicago, so why go through the trouble to throw myself into a place I might not feel safe right away?

 

Frankly I have no idea. And not knowing terrifies me.

 

But if I don’t go to Accra now, will I ever do it in the future? If I play it safe now, when will I ever live a life of deep fulfillment?

 

Ultimately, I do all things through God who strengthens me. I know that God wants me to see something in Accra, or meet someone, or feel something that I can only find there. I feel afraid that I don’t know what is prepared for me, but I’ve always felt fear and awe at the hands of my Creator.

 

I said this hasn’t been easy, and I doubt it will get easier. But only a ship in harbor is safe – and as I look at the vast Sahara beneath me, and the blue sky above me, I know I’d much rather feel the wind in my sails.

 

Cheers,

Anna

Festina Lente

Festina Lente

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Do you remember somersaulting down hills as a child? Slowly you begin to gain speed and soon enough you lose sight of everything happening around you, seemingly lost in a whirlwind of fun, tossing and turning without any knowledge of current orientation or surroundings. Traveling from one foreign place to another can interpolate a very similar sensation of unconsciousness.

This past weekend I traveled to the home of the world’s most illustrious spas and bath houses. Budapest, unbeknownst to myself prior, is home to much more than saunas and savory local cuisine. The people there are the true prize to be seen. They ooze a sense on self individualized confidence. Not only can you feel it in the instance when the eyes of the older Olaf-esk brute from the other side of the steam room is staring you down to your soul, but also, as you are received by the jaunty bartender who offers you his best beer on draught with a smile and a trusting gleam in his gaze.

The city has been through quite a load over the past five centuries or so, (I challenge you to research that) and the stories are inscripted beautifully into stone and mortar in order to last generations. Moreover, the stories seen in the marble depicted scenes are of heroic ancestors and invading aliens; rather than victors and vanity, so that the true history of Budapest’s people will never be lost in time. My experience, on the contrary, seemed to have fallen victim to my hurrying from monument to monument, church to castle, and bar to bath; though I was constantly entranced by the east/west median of European culture, never once could I feel the slowness of home in which every second seems indulge-able. Nay, I would not suggest that I am home sick, but rather, I would infer that I must take a lesson from the story of August on my next trip, and that is to hurry slowly. Festina Lente!
That Italian Life!!!

That Italian Life!!!

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Its been three weeks as of today living in Italy. Its taken so much adjusting its crazy. I don’t think I’ve truly felt like I live in Italy until today.

I got a job.

Two actually.

Monday I started interning at The Roman Guy in their Marketing and Social Media department. I was so nervous the first day I thought I might die. I didn’t. I had a bit of trouble getting there because the office is located in a part of Travestere Rome that I’ve never explored before. When I got there my boss showed me to my desk where the team had laid out a map of the best places in Rome to go for food, drinks, and fun, three bracelets along with a bag with their logo written on it. She offered me some water and espresso and showed me my schedule for the first week. It was all very pleasant and laid back as long as I get my work done of course. I think I was more so astounded that I’m allowed to listen to music on the job and given a proper work space. My job is essentially to boost internet traffic through their social

media sites by 20% by April. I don’t anticipate that being incredibly difficult since their sites are ideal for finding amazing spots all around Rome. The whole process of dressing business casual, taking the metro, drinking espresso, and working for a Rome based company makes me feel more local than a tourist the longer I’m here. Every Thursday, everyone in the office does Thirsty Thursday and has a glass of wine together to boost morale. It really takes the pressure off working throughout the week. My main task as of now is to create my own schedule to produce content to post in Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook throughout the week. I’m loving the creative freedom and the opportunity to produce unique content to help the company grow.

 

Today, after attending the Papal Audience,my group of friends and I headed to HomeBaked (Via Fratelli Bonnet, 21, 00152 Roma RM) for the second time in two weeks. Its easily becoming my home away from home. Its the only place I’ve found that has coffee I

could cry tears of pure joy. The owner’s name is Jesse and knows me by name now. He’s from Buffalo, Ne

w York. He studied abroad here as an International Studies major and just never left. Its been 15 years. The most important part of living in Rome and adapting to this new lifestyle is getting into the community and forming meaningful relationships with the people you meet. I know that sounds cliche but its true and its the best part of living here. I want to bring Jesse back a Loyola flag to put on the wall with the rest of his university collection from people who’ve visited and loved it there.

After, I began tutoring two Italian children in English. Pier is 7 and Niccolo is 5. Its only an hour and I learn 20 Euro for the hour I’m tutoring. I read them books, play games in english to build their vocabulary, and get them used to hearing English from a native speaker. Its tricky because they’re different ages and have different language competencies. I really enjoy it though. Getting into the community and helping out also makes feel like I’m part of it. Whoever is reading this, if you get the opportunity to tutor, take it.

 

I’m worried I won’t want to go back home by April.