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Tag: Asia

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By Fatima Zahra Kassidi

The real big identity speech I had from my family did not take place before me heading to Singapore for study abroad but actually when I first embarked in my college journey. Indeed, Singapore wasn’t my first real relatively long term adventure away from home but going to the US for higher education after graduating high school in Morocco was. My whole community was encouraging me to make a choice of staying closer to home where most graduating teenagers from Morocco went: France. In that way, they wanted me to remember where I came from and be able to come back home to a certain comfort and safety as often as possible. However, I made the decision to cut ties and fly away to the destination that had the education and life I thought I would flourish the most in. The thought of being independent and learning to make myself safe without the shadows of my community was vital. However my family did not understand this aspect at first as I was leaving to a deemed very far place compared to the average high school graduates. The first support I had from my family when they started to be more understanding of my decision as I was preparing to leave across the ocean was my mother and grand parents filling a whole luggage of Moroccan food and sweets to store when I arrive so that a piece of the culture would stay with me as I settled in the new foreign environment, an idea that I thought was very important to sustain. I remember having a conversation on the phone with my mom about a month after moving in my campus dorm and starting my first semester of freshman year—she reminded me that even though I saw people doing things I was in no way obligated to do the same things just to try to fit in. In that same conversation she also made sure to remind me that people are raised with different values whether they are cultural or religious and in some cases that meant you won’t feel the same excitement about doing some things. And most importantly she told me that this didn’t mean that I couldn’t fit in, quite the contrary, differences make people more interesting and are an incredible way to keep an open mind and learn about each other but only when respect and tolerance are strong foundations. This speech still resonates with me today every time I travel some place new in the world for whatever purpose. The respect of diversity has been such an important thought to me ever since and it helped me build and maintain life long relationships throughout the past few years shaping my current identity. I learned to be able to stand up for my beliefs and never feel constrained to act in some ways for the simple satisfaction of feeling like I belong somewhere. If anything is meant to happen then it will find a way to see life and anything feeling forced shouldn’t be entertained. That is the main thing that I was taught by my community every time I went away and that shaped who I am today and how I engage with both the world and people. I always felt like my identity is constantly changing but it was never really challenged until I crossed national borders and was left to grow on my own and adapt in unfamiliar settings while still remembering and being proud of my original sources.

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By Emily Golden

My community and my journey of discovering my identity have been interlocked since the beginning. I was born in Shanghai, China and adopted as an infant by my beautiful mother. I grew up in a white family and attended predominantly white schools from kindergarten through college. The community meant to support my identity was simultaneously the very thing that made me so confused about it in the first place. Growing up and not looking like your mom, or your grandparents, or just about anyone you’re surrounded by is a tough obstacle in accepting and embracing your identity. My family and friends definitely supported me and didn’t box me into an “Chinese-American” identity and raised as just American. My mom also made the topic of adoption very open and easy so I’ve never been uncomfortable talking about my adoption.

I remember in first grade the first time a boy asked me why I didn’t look like my mom. I gave a sassy, first grade response to this poor boy but when I went home I remember wondering why other people didn’t get asked the same question and why they didn’t have to defend their identity like I did.

I love my family and I know my family loves me, but I knew from a very young age that at least physically, I will never full fit in. And on the other side, even though I may be physically Chinese, I can’t relate to many experiences and backgrounds of Chinese Americans with Chinese families. The limbo was and is an interesting place of self discovery where neither community can really help you along your journey. Coming to the realization that just being you is enough, regardless of where you come from or how the world perceives you, was a process that I needed to come to on my own.

Since being abroad, everyone expects that I speak fluent Chinese and are confused when I sit with my other classmates or have an accent when I speak the Chinese I do know. When still deciding whether to do an internship or language pledge, I re-evaluated my intentions for doing the language pledge. I started learning Chinese in 8th grade because I thought it made sense being Chinese, that I learn how to speak Chinese. That intention developed into genuine interest in the language and culture of China, but I also discovered that much of the world would expect me to already speak Chinese. I briefly chose the internship, because I didn’t want to commit to a language just because it is an expectation. But I finally chose to do the month long language pledge because I wasn’t doing it for expectation’s sake, but for my own. I don’t think my time abroad has largely effected the why I identify myself, but has definitely made me reflect on it in new, eye opening ways.

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By Taylor Garland

This past week was recess week for us, so my friends and I went to do a bit of traveling around Southeast Asia. Our trip to both Bangkok and Bali felt too long and too short. The bustle of Bangkok made me miss me time in Shanghai, but there was a distinctive difference – no one was looking at us.

In Shanghai, I had a diverse group of friends, many of them tall, and all very much foreign-looking to local Chinese people. In Thailand, however, in the group of six, there was only one non-asian person, but her “sun-kissed” skin and dark, thick hair made her appear to belong to the region. I felt right at home in Bangkok, acclimating to the weather (rainy) and the metro (crowded) quickly. We walked the streets like we lived there, despite the obvious chatter in English that very often gave us away.

One thing I sought out to do was find spicy food and BOY let me tell you. Singaporean food seems to be relatively tame, so coming to Thailand was like the clouds parting and a single chili that is also on fire falling on my tongue. Everything I ate there was spicy, much to the shock of those traveling with me.... everything. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were all flaked with red and I loved it.

Bali was very different in tone and experience. For one, it didn’t rain, which I appreciated greatly. It was also a dryer heat, which was so nice, to not be sweating as soon as we stepped out. And two, it was an island, and the culture was certainly reflective of it. No structure stood more than one story, and there was no highway – while there were a few paved roads, not many with any traffic direction – so transportation by scooter was preferred. There was an air of nonchalance and relaxation – though that might have been through the insane amount of foreigners coming to their surf n’ sun mecca.

A note for both of these places, and any place you travel to – everything you do is what you make of it. There are so many ways to experience the same place, so many ways you can go to a beach and come away happy with your time or mad about your sunburn. Also, always know where your phone is.

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By Fatima Zahra Kassidi

1- The first set of photos was taken in Hajji Lane—a colorful place full of great ambiance, charming coffee shops, bars, vintage boutiques and arts on the street walls. A great sense of Singapore community can be felt there and one of my favorite spots.

 

2- This picture however is Arab Street. There are lots of delicious Arab food specialties for you to try. In the back you can see the mosque where muslims come for prayers. In some way I feel a sense of home as there is a Moroccan restaurant I can go to when feeling homesick.

3- This last picture was taken in Little India. If you like Indian food and culture, it’s the place to be. It is a very vibrant community in Singapore with lots of colors and culturally inspired art.

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By Savita Potarazu

Marrakech, Morocco
08 October 2018

From September 28th to October 6th, I traveled to Morocco with my program for our semester excursion. We spent the first two days in the capital of Rabat where we heard from individuals working with the Ministry of Health, the International Office of Migration (IOM), and many NGOs to learn about the Moroccan health system and evident health disparities. After traveling to central Marrakech and getting lost in the maze of the Medina at Jemma El Fna, we learned about the current king’s initiatives to augment women’s empowerment and health care access to vulnerable populations like disabled children and cancer patients. On Monday, we proceeded to spend a great deal of our trip staying with homestay families in a rural village in Marrakech. There, groups of 5-6 students were assigned different homestay families and I firmly believe this experience allowed me to feel a stronger pulse of Morocco.

From our last night in Marrakech- we danced all night long!

Beautiful bowls at the Medina in Marrakech

The view from the balcony of my homestay family’s house overlooking the Atlas mountains

The homestay element of this excursion consisted of dining, dancing, playing, conversing, and adapting, and most importantly being open-minded about temporarily living a much lower standard of living compared to Switzerland and the United States. Despite this, the architecture, design, music, dance, and food radiated in vibrant colors, sounds, and flavors left me in a state of bliss multiple times throughout our week in El Maghreb. Over the course of the week I reminded myself embrace rural Moroccan culture and to make the most of such a valuable experience while being conscientious of my/our imprint on a pre-existing community.

Me (left) and my host mom Khadija (right)

Situated in the Atlas mountains, this small village of Tanahout exhibits low levels of light pollution that allowed us to stargaze and enjoy the peace and serenity that is indubitably one of the perks of rural life in this middle-income country. After reflecting a bit, I realized that my life’s travels so far have exposed me to either extremely impoverished settings in developing countries around the world or relatively very well-off national infrastructure in many European and North American regions. Learning about the urban-rural divide in this context was truly unique and has definitely broadened the scope of my studies of global health. When it came to understanding Moroccan health care, education, transportation, and many more means of upward social mobility, social disparities took on a deeper meaning. For instance, the role of tourism even in this rural village sustains so many families, including the ones we lived with for a few days. Although there is much pushback against the pitfalls of tourism in such fragile communities, many of our host families embraced inevtaible cultural compromises because it set meals on the table and paid for medical bills that are not covered by their basic health insurance.

Kids of the village being silly after school

My friends and I made connections of a lifetime with Moroccan cuisine, art, and most of all the people. Coming back to Switzerland, I see a stark contrast in the cultural spirit of each country and long to drink sweet mint tea and dance in the golden sunset over the Atlas mountains with my family in Marrakech.

Sweet, sweet mint tea

Sunset over the Atlas Mountains

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By Emily Golden

Fostering a sense of community has always been at the forefront of my mind. Having a trust worthy support network that you can rely on can make or break an experience entirely. But how do you do such a thing when you’re half way across the world and when there are only 5 other students on your program for an entire semester? This was a pretty big concern for me prior to my departure. However, from the moment you land, there’s no choice but to build a new support network and community from the ground up.

At first, a dynamic of only 6 students was a little hard especially because we all came from different backgrounds with varying levels of travel experience and language ability. In addition, because Kunming is a relatively small city and there are very few Americans or foreigners, our group can feel even more isolated. But after simply being around each other and experiencing similar things, I’ve come to truly care for everyone and know that they will have my back in return. It’s also become clear that our love for adventure is something we can all relate to and is something that profoundly bonds us together. A defining moment was when I was still deciding between doing an internship or an intensive language study for the last month of the program. I knew I had found my people when everyone sat down and helped me write an extensive pro and con list for each option. Everyone gave thoughtful advice and genuine support when they didn’t have to. I knew then and there what a special group of humans I had the privilege of befriending. When people told me that your study abroad friends would become you lifelong friends, I had my reservations. But only a month in, I know for sure that we will stay friends long after this semester ends.

In Chinese culture, the relationship between teachers and students is quite different from the US. Here, we can text our teachers on WeChat casually and form deep relationships. Both of my Chinese language teachers are parents and it definitely comes across in their patient, compassionate treatment of us. Having a quasi-parent figure has also aided in my adjustment to life in Kunming. Similarly, even though we call them “teacher,” the other staff members are viewed more as friends and helpful resources instead of formal authoritative figures. Also, all the staff members and teachers are genuinely good friends so it’s so refreshing to see the kind of community that SIT as a program fosters here.

To complete my sense of community, movement and (manicured) nature are both critical components. I’m my happiest when I’m dancing or incorporating some sort of artistic movement into my daily life. Our daily Taiji lesson definitely satisfies this aspect for me. Our Taiji master is 64 and moves with such grace and agility it’s beautiful to observe. Beyond keeping us physically fit, it really helps me clear my mind and appreciate a new form of cultural movement. In addition, going for a walk in a park always helps me maintain a peaceful mind whether it be in Central Park at home or the national mall back at GW. Luckily, our apartment complex is right next to a beautiful park called 莲花池公园 or Lotus Pond Park. You can see elderly people practicing Taiji in the morning, or kids and their families spending time together after school. I found this park by chance our very first morning in Kunming and I frequent it when I need to think or when I want to just appreciate the scenery.

Adjusting to life in Kunming has been incredibly challenging and rewarding at the same time. Finding your people happens quicker and easier than you might expect. What may take months back at school can happen almost instantaneously when you’re abroad. And establishing your nooks and happy places in a new place is critical for mental health and makes you feel like a local. The Chinese language has a particularly saying, 入乡随俗 (ruxiangsuisu) which means when you’re in a new environment you should do as the locals do. While this is extremely important in acclimating, it is just as valuable to bring your own sense of community into the new environment with you.

Photo #1: Group photo
This was our very first day of orientation in Beijing when we were all still just getting to know each other. It’s funny to look back at only a month ago and see how much we’ve grown together and how important they’ve become in terms of my new community.

Photo #2: Lotus Pond Park
This is the park that is directly across the street from our apartment. They have an all you can eat buffet (my kind of meal) with outdoor seating where I do my homework sometimes. My mind becomes as tranquil as this photo when I’m here.

Photo #3: My Taiji master and me
This is me and our Taiji master, Zhu师傅 practicing one of the Taiji combinations. Taiji is always a highlight, especially because of the crazy tangents and random noises he makes during class. I’ve come to respect him as a teacher, an artist, and a friend.

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By Taylor Garland

I used to go to house shows in high school where teenagers would just wail on their guitars and lament about our problems – small towns, parents who don’t understand, gender and sexuality. In early college I went to see my musician friends play sets and talk about their latest emotional crises and play some familiar baseline. Now nearing the end of my college career, in my last study abroad, it baffles me to stumble upon a group of people in Singapore, one of the farthest places geographically from where I grew up, and hear a familiar sound. See people in the same styles my friends dress in.

It’s weird to know that globalism has popped the lid of of music subcultures. If Spotify was around in the 70’s, would punk rock be as closely aligned with London as we know it to be? Or 90’s indie rock with New York?

I used to thing this brand of lofi dream pop was unique to my teenager-dom. But these beach-ey guitar riffs and tasteful feedback are sounds I share with millions of people around the world. And I always find these pockets of the same crusty subculture the same way – “hey my friend is producing a show, you should come!” Thank god for friends of friends.

My first few weeks in Singapore have been challenging socially. I was worried I wouldn’t find anyone that was like me, or would like me. What if my sense of humor is too weird? Who’s going to actually laugh at my jokes because they think I’m funny, not because they feel like they have to. What if no one wants to travel where I do, listen to the same music, dress the same, have the same thoughts and beliefs and fears? The fear of not finding like-minded people makes me feel anxious and isolated before I even got here.

This weekend, I went to an album release for a local band called Subsonic Eye, and it was a testament that I’m not alone, and I’m not unique (which is a more comforting notion than anything else). There are people around the world that share my likes and interest, think the same things are funny as I do, and listen to the same music. Leaving my home doesn’t mean stepping away from things I care about. I don’t have to construct an alternative identity that I think would fit better here.

garland-singapore

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By Fatima Zahra Kassidi

Growing up, my identity had always been an aspect of my person and character that was continuously challenged. However as of now, I am a strongly affirmed, 20 years old, muslim female and international Moroccan student, that worked hard to secure a position at a prestigious US university. I was born and raised in a Arab country that has a strong post-colonial culture, as French is still a commonly spoken language and an important portion of the Moroccan youth is still attending a French pedagogical system and are sent out to study in France after High School. In this way, when I am asked what my native language is, I seem to find myself struggle finding the adequate answer—I consider both French and Arabic to be my native languages but people usually expect you to only identify with one. Furthermore, Morocco is composed of a great amount of Berbers in addition of Arabs, my father being a Berber and my mother an Arab. Thus, the simple fact of being my parents’ daughter is already a great source of rich ancestral history to identify with.


Throughout my childhood, I never identified myself with any particular aspect of my culture. Indeed, I wasn’t much of a Moroccan traditional food, music or even clothing lover, I didn’t realize how beautiful and unique they all were until I moved to the US for my undergraduate studies. I would say leaving your country is the most relevant trigger to awaken your love for it. Although I enjoy being fully immersed here, in the US, it is still natural to feel homesick and start looking for places that remind you of your home identity. Moroccan restaurants were my go to in case of identity crisis but also calling my best friends or parents, just to be able to speak and hear some Arabic and/or French. The beauty of leaving the place you grew up in, dreaming of finally becoming the independent self you always wanted to be, is the realization of what you are leaving behind.


All of this is true, an important part of my identity is based on my Moroccan identity, but it is not limited to that. The other part of my identity, is being a global citizen, always looking for new experiences to further understand who I am and who I want to be. Coming to study in the US is the first thing I did towards that direction and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My American experience is also a part of my identity and I wouldn’t be the person I am today without it. Moreover, to fulfill my aim at integrating my global citizenship to my identity, I try to have as much international experiences as I possibly can, which is why I was extremely excited to intern in Geneva, Switzerland, last summer. This internship gave me the opportunity to travel and let myself flourish in all kinds of environments and cultures, I was able to visit Switzerland, France, Belgium, Monaco, Croatia and the Netherlands, all in only 2 amazing months. I’m extremely grateful for all the learning opportunities life threw at me during that summer and it encouraged me even more to continue on expanding my horizons but this time I flew East. Asia is such a mysterious and grand continent that I am just starting to discover. I’m hoping this study abroad opportunity in Singapore will help me incorporate a whole new dimension to my identity. Indeed it has been a little over a month that I first step foot in this part of the world and I already feel all the different array of cultures and the incredible environment impacting me in a way that makes me so much more grateful about where life has led me this far and how it has shaped me as a person.

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By Taylor Garland

I’ve found that my early 20’s has been filled with moments where I must reconcile the fact that I did not inherit my mother’s punctuality, and that I am naturally and routinely late for things. True to form, a delay out of New York resulted in a delay at my layover in LAX for a full 24 hours. Being late to Singapore meant sacrificing the $5 I had put down for my hostel that night, and missing the 53th celebration of Singapore’s independence. Big bummer, but I had a great time in LA with some of my closest friends, so I wasn’t too upset.

After a 17-hour flight from California, I touched down at 7am in Singapore, and met a heavily air conditioned and spectacularly large airport. Immigration was quick (FYI: student visas are an easy online application away for those interested in studying here!), I bought my SIM card before I left the building (which I recommend) and exchanged some American money for local cash (which I also recommend doing in Changi Airport – better rates than in the US).

...continue reading "Acclimating to a New Architectural Environment"

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By mahaliasmith

A couple of weeks ago, my mom came to visit me in Shanghai. When she came she said, “Look, it’s not me who’s holding your hand and guiding you along anymore, it’s you who’s holding mine.” The entirety of her stay, she kept remarking on how well she thought I could navigate the city and how generally confident I was in myself in Shanghai.
In the moment, I mostly pushed those comments aside, but as the semester comes to a close, I’m realizing that I genuinely believe I’ve accomplished a lot this semester.
The semester has been full of just about every kind of exhilarating yet humbling experience. From being chased by wild monkeys through the forest in Zhangjiajie, to summiting five of the sacred peaks in China alongside grannies in heels and Gucci track suits, kayaking down the Li River, sprinting along the Great Wall in the frigid cold and heavy snowfall, fending off relentless market vendors (and harassing a few of my own), late night cramming for term papers and exams, experiencing the variety in night life, trying the most unique and somewhat terrifying cuisines, and making friends from all over the world: Shanghai has opened my world to a plethora of new experiences.
One of my favorite parts about Shanghai is how the enormity of the city makes me feel like such a small dot in this world. Despite that, I’m no longer scared to ride the metro home alone at night or to go on my own biking expedition across the city with nothing but a GPS for navigation and my music as companionship. In fact, I’m not afraid of embarking on any other adventure in Shanghai, or China for that matter. I welcome the opportunity for new experiences in addition to the roadblocks that might arise along the way.

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