cultural immersion – GW Blogs from Abroad

Warmth and Generosity

AdminMay 4, 2015December 14, 2018

I just returned to Khon Kaen from my last homestay of the semester, and I thought this would be a good time to express the deepness of hospitality that I have experienced from Thai families over my short time here.

I have had homestays in a slum, in an organic farming village, in a Karen village, in a fishing village on an island, and then this final one in a village where the majority of the women are silk weavers. In each one I experienced the different quirks of the family, a goofy father, a blunt grandmother, two earnest younger sisters, and a prayerful mother. But this last one topped all the others in the immense generosity and love that radiated from the family that I stayed with.

We (my 14 peers and I) were gathered upon our arrival to the village at the meeting place where all of the Meh’s ‘ were coming to pick us up to take us home for our few day stay in the village. Then in walked a women with penciled in eyebrows and a vibrant purple shirt, her arms wide, “Sa-wa-dee-ka” she exclaimed in welcome. This was my Meh. Immediately hugging my friend Anne and I who would be staying with her. This was a surprise considering that Thai people rarely hug one another, let alone strangers.

Meh took us home and immediately allowed us to settle into the house. She spread before the two of us a massive dinner of at least six dishes. This was the first time in a homestay when the whole family ate with us. It is tradition in Thai families to allow children and elderly and guests eat first, then everyone else eats. It was sweet to get to enjoy food with everyone. Even though Pah consistently made comments on how I was avoiding the cold green fishy pureed seaweed soup. Later on Meh showed us to our bed. We were sleeping in the main room of the house in the only bed the family owned. Pah slept at a neighbor’s house and meh slept on a mat on the floor.

The following day we enjoyed a full day free. Meh gave us an extensive tour of the village. At every house we passed where someone was home, meh would prompt us to wai (bring your hands to a prayer position and bow slightly as a sign of respect) and say hello. She beamed, showing off her guests as we went.. Moving from house to house, we were given a tour of nearly every aspect of silk production. The silk worm larva, the large larva, the mulberry trees used to feed the larva, the larva creating the silk cocoon, the piles of bright yellow silk cocoons, the thread extraction process, the spinning process, the mudmee thread dying process, and finally the weaving process. With each villager we visited, each one allowed us to actively participate in the process, running the risk that our unskilled hands would ruin their work.

That night, our second and final night, the village threw a goodbye ceremony for us and then afterwards all of us had a potluck. However, meh had specially prepared Kai lug cuy for me, knowing it was my favorite dish, and gave me orders not to share it with anyone else.

The next morning had even more Kai lug cuy for breakfast, then meh walked us to where the vans would pick us up to drive us back to Khon Kaen. Again, she made us wai everyone we passed, and dressed us each in a silk scarf that she had woven herself, picked especially for us. This is immensely significant, because these scarves each cost around 20-30 US dollars, and are the equivalent of three weeks income if sold. Yet she adorned us with them and called us her own daughters; “Lug sowe con chan” she said. As we prepared to leave she gave us even more hugs, and as we got in the van and drove away she began crying. I was touched by how much love meh expressed for us after only two days. It made me wonder if houseguests in the US would receive the same warm familial hospitality.

She Walked Past this Fish Market

AdminApril 25, 2015

안녕하세요 (Hello)! Week 7 in Seoul was great. This was Jacob’s second week and last week in Korea. A fun highlight included our friend group ending up in the same place of Seoul we randomly decided to go to on our first week. At this random place we decided to try a sit-on-the-floor place and ordered two random stews for our large party. One was google translated to “potato ride” and the other was made of pig spine. They were both delicious; however I was not impressed with the amount of two potatoes I managed to find in the potato ride. Another highlight included getting Bingsu, which is Korean snow ice cream, with my exchange buddy. She taught me how to say lunch and dinner in Korean and how to talk about the food that comes with the drinks in Korean. Dinner is pronounced like “Jeo nyuk” and lunch is pronounced like “chum sim,” while food with drink is “panju.” The Bingsu we ate was a strawberry and condensed milk decorated mountain of milk chips with a cheesecake stuck inside. Jake and I got to eat most of it because the exchange buddy stepped out to talk for a long time, and it was mostly melted when she returned. We loved this ice cream so much that we got it three times during the remainder of his stay. Two of my favorite activities happened this week: Han River bike riding the Noryangiin Fish Market.

Another great weekend started. Thursday night started with a KUBA dinner that Jake and I went to. We ate sushi that dinner and were served three massive sushi rolls that were split between 5 people and we were all beyond stuffed. Then we moved on to round 2, which is typically a Soju place. At this Soju place we tried raspberry, apple, and blueberry flavored Soju. My favorite out of these three flavors was apple. John was also there with his KUBA group and we were approached by a GWU exchange alum who we met at the Simon Lee dinner, Jiyoon Chung. It was very exciting to see someone we met at GWU at this bar in Korea and we shall have lunch with her after midterms. After dinner, the night was spent at Monkey Beach and Octagon. Monkey Beach was a new club we tried, where a Korean girl climbed a pole and rang a bell and thus was able to get a free tub of long island iced tea. Shout out to a KU alumni Tony Lyons for giving us great tips here in Korea! He constantly recommends cool hotspots to try (like Monkey Beach) and how to succeed in classes. After Monkey Beach, we went to Octagon. As I previously mentioned, it is the number 9 club in the world and a lot of fun stuff always happens there. We danced until we could not dance anymore and even Jake was impressed by it.

Friday morning was met with homework. That Friday afternoon however we went biking on the Han River. This area is popular among Koreans because it provides a beautiful view of the city as well as a place for activity. This is where Korean couples go to show off how cute they look together in their matching outfits and bike ride. Jesse, Jake, John, Mike, Jesper, and I decided to bike. The pollution was low that day so you could actually see the mountain peaks in the distance. I felt free and happy on the bike. The bike lanes were separated into two moving direction lanes. I kept riding as fast or as slow as I wanted along to the rhythm of my music, which was blasting from my bike basket. Jake rode on an unknown path so he was separated from the group for 20 minutes, but eventually he found us. The whole trip was only 3000W for an hour and everyone was left joyful from the experience. After this adventure we got Indian food and enjoyed it on the Crimson roof.

The Noryangiin Fish Market is the largest seafood market in Korea where vendors sell everything from stingrays to squid to mystery fish. It is open year round and is the place where restaurant owners compete for the freshest catch in the mornings. John, Jesse, Michael, Jake, and I decided that we would wake up early on Saturday to explore this attraction. When we got off of the subway, the market was hidden in a large warehouse with a smelly fish odor emanating from it. As we descended down the stairs, you could hear the bustle of the merchants. It was around 9:30am when we arrived there. The warehouse was the size of a city block, with wet floors, and loud merchants trying to make a sale.

The first section was mainly shellfish such as crab and muscles, with a few squid and sea slugs. Jesse and I decided to try stingray sashimi and then the whole group split a sashimi platter. The sashimi platter was 20000W and the stingray was 15000W. We weren’t sure of where we should sit so we went outside the warehouse and sat on a raised curb where they plant flowers. We used that was the table and sat around it. The sashimi platter was fantastic and a Korean man in his car even stopped to make sure we were dipping the sashimi in the sauce. The stingray however did not sit right with any of us. When I ingested it, a funny sensation was felt down the entirety of my tongue. Being an enthusiastic food lover, even I felt as if I could not try even another piece. My friends were in agreement and we ended up throwing away the stingray sashimi. Afterwards, we decided to try some fish-cooking restaurant in the market. In order to do this Mike chose a king crab for his meal, Jake chose a red snapper, and I chose a simple random fish. We went into a random restaurant in the warehouse and they prepared it for us right there and then. It was delicious and definitely an experience that we won’t forget. Afterwards we went Han River biking round 2!

Saturday night Jake and I went to Hongdae to a rooftop party and got Korean BBQ at 2am. On Sunday, it was KUBA field day and Michael and Alissa’s group won a free meal! Studying abroad rocks! 안녕 (Goodbye)!!!

On the backpacker trail

AdminApril 1, 2015December 14, 2018

By practiceyogadistrict

With a three-day weekend, a world of freedom opened so two friends and I decided to travel up to the north of Thailand to explore Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, and Pai. The north is known for it’s lush green foliage and gorgeous mountains. Unfortunately we chose to go at the worst possible time because in the month of March, all the rice farmers burn their fields in order to grow herbs and mushrooms that sprout from the ashes. Though it’s an effective practice for the farmers to earn a little extra income from the second crop, it is horrible both for the environment and visibility, so our mountain views were a little less spectacular. Even so, getting out of our Khon Kaen bubble was fun and exciting.

Khon Kaen, as it would be, is the farthest thing from a tourist destination in Thailand. Comparatively, Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, and Pai are major tourist destinations. As we disembarked our bus in Chiang Mai, we saw countless white faces in the crowds of Thai people. I was a little taken aback, being used to being one of the only farrang around in Khon Kaen. Even more shocking was when I arrived in Pai. Pai is a world of dreaded, tattooed, pierced European backpackers. I could walk down the street without seeing a single Thai. It was a place completely catered to tourists. There were even people dressed in Karen hill tribe cultural dress performing on the street to give the tourists a taste of the ‘culture.’

As I spent time in these tourist locales using my Thai language that I have garnered so far, I spoke in Thai with locals about my life and asked them about theirs. I found that the Thais I spoke with were pleasantly surprised and even excited to encounter a farrang who had more permanence in Thailand than other tourists. I became more than just a walking moneybag to them. Gaining even the simple ability to communicate on a deeper level gave me more humanity in their eyes. One friend I made along the way, an elephant trainer, even asked my friends and I to come back and work on the elephant farm with him.

What I realized through my long weekend is how blessed I am to get more than just a few days or weeks in Thailand as a tourist, but rather months studying and seeking to gain as much understanding as possible about the culture in which I am living. Tourists who make their rounds of Thailand go to the beaches in the south, Bangkok for the big city experience, and then Chiang Mai/Chiang Rai/ Pai in the north to see pretty mountains. They stay on the tourist trail where it is easy to communicate in English. They see the sights, buy some trinkets, and then they move along to the next country. Though I have four short months, I am getting far more than any tourist might. I am gaining empathy.

Licorice, Birthdays, and Respect

AdminApril 1, 2015December 14, 2018

By Ashlyn

"You don't have to swallow it," my friend Carly told me, wincing as though she could feel my pain.

"When I start something, I finish it," I replied, though I'm sure my face was full of regret. And my mouth was full of -- what else? -- salty licorice, a favorite snack of the Danes. But this was the strongest, most powerful salty licorice I have tasted in all of my days.

How did I get in this position? Let's rewind several hours and I'll explain.

I woke up early on Saturday. Carly and I had been invited by our visiting family to a lunch and birthday party that afternoon. At DIS, a visiting family is a Danish family that the school matches you up with to spend time with throughout the semester. It is for students who are not in a homestay -- a chance to get a taste of everyday life for a Danish family, to practice your language skills, and to meet new people.

Our visiting family lives about a 20 minute drive from Copenhagen in a nice house in the Danish suburbs. They have a sweet dog and a teenage son. We arrived round noon and found an incredible lunch spread laid out for us: seared duck slices; homemade rye bread; brie and fresh jam; lumpfish roe and blinis with creme fraiche; salmon and cucumber roulades; Danish meatballs with red cabbage on the side. We feasted and talked about the day's plans. A nephew was having a birthday -- he was very young. It would be a chance to see how the Danes celebrate. In Danish class we learned that there is usually singing and some sort of cake and a lot of Danish flags. I was excited to learn more.

We arrived at the birthday party, where about 30 adults and children were busily moving about a small house. It was cramped but the mood was happy. Our hosts greeted us and even though we were full from lunch we were encouraged to eat more -- this time a pork goulash with rice, a kale salad, and garlic bread. I used as much Danish as I could remember: tak (thank you), undskuld (excuse me), nej (no), plus several longer phrases. The family seemed impressed, but when they tried to ask me more complicated questions I had to switch over to English.

When dessert rolled around, we were already stuffed but we made room to sample the ice cream, meringue cake and cream puffs that were laid out on the counter. On the tables were big bowls of licorice gummies. Here is where I messed up -- I took a licorice candy and put it on Carly's plate, daring her to eat it. She refused, throwing the dare back at me. Of course I ate it.

"Ashlyn ate a licorice!" said my visiting dad, impressed. "One of the strong ones!"

"That one wasn't very strong," said my visiting mother. It was going to take more to impress her. I asked which gummy was strongest. "Hold on," she said, and disappeared into the back of the house.

A few moments later, she came back with several jars of frightening-looking licorice candies. "These are the really strong ones!" she said, while the rest of the family cheered. All eyes were on me. Was the American going to eat the strong salted licorice, or was she going to back out at the last second? Of course I was going to eat it. I couldn't get out of this now.

I began with a smaller piece of the salted. The puckery taste of the candy stuck to my teeth but wasn't too bad. It went down okay. I moved onto a larger piece that was a bit less appetizing. It was difficult to finish but I did it. The Danes encouraged me, collecting around the table as they watched the scene unfold. The final piece was a licorice candy dusted in salty licorice powder and with an extra-strong licorice core at the center. The moment I placed it in my mouth I was filled with regret. This had not been my best idea.

"You don't have to swallow it," Carly said, which brings us back full circle. But I did. I probably shouldn't have, but I did. And afterwards I had to lie down for a bit to let the nausea subside. Let me just say that nothing can prepare you for the awfulness that is salted licorice. Nothing.

My visiting dad leaned in to me. "That was very impressive! You have our respect!" Score -- it was worth it after all. Meanwhile, I watched the school-age children dip their hands into the jar eagerly, snatching up the strongest licorice they could get and eating it like it was... well, like it was candy. I suppose that's one thing I'll never understand.

A Present Past

AdminMarch 5, 2015December 14, 2018

By kaandle

In the States we commonly spend weeks every-other year learning about some part of German history. Specifically, WWII and the Cold War are very prevalent in our history education. The shocking thing about being and living in Germany is how recently all this history occurred.

On the one hand, walking down the street you could pass anything from a memorial to a still standing piece of the Berlin Wall. There is definitely a sense in this country of not wanting to belittle their past since so many monumental events did occur - this topic can frequently be read about in the New York Times travel section where an article will explore the dichotomy of Berlin: old versus new, young versus old, proud versus embarrassed. In the past two weeks however, what I found the most interesting was hearing people's personal stories regarding a segregated Berlin and the fall of the Wall.

Saturday night, for example, a group of us were eating dinner at one of the student's houses, partially in honor of Mardi Gras and partially because his host mom wanted to have a dinner party, when we began to hear parts of this woman's experience in life pre-1989. She lived in the East sector and has been learning English over the past few years, because like so many other Germans who lived in the GDR, she was taught Russian, not English, in school. Before Germany united, she earned a degree in mathematical engineering - a degree that was considered invalid when the GDR collapsed so she had to go back to school to earn a West-legitimate degree. She was a very happy woman who, when describing her current job as a teacher, frequently used the phase "I am free" and emphasized the fact that she never would have met her current husband had the wall never fallen.

Other people have shared equally enticing stories. Another host lived on a West-block that was cut off by the Wall. When it fell, her account of the day was being annoyed by the crowds in her street as she came home from work and for the following weeks being constantly begged by people from the East crossing over to the West side for food and money. Professors from the IES center have shared their memories of how transportation within East and West Germany worked - especially coming from the West to West Berlin, which stood like an island in the middle of the GDR. Additionally, when visiting an old Stasi prison the tour guide suddenly began telling us of his experience as an 18 year old man who made several attempts to escape the East, was captured and imprisioned by the Stasi police, and 8 months later sold to the West, where he was able to start a new life. These summaries don't their stories justice, but they can give a sense of the local variety of experiences with and opinions of this infamous time.

People's willingness to share their stories and memories has surprised me. I feel that I have learned a lot from their experiences and I hope to learn of many more during the months ahead. The fall of the Wall was barely before my lifetime, yet I always viewed the end of the Cold War as chapter of history that had been finished and closed a long time ago. But Germany remains a country where people can identify their origins as East or West and their history is very much alive and not forgotten.

Meditating with Monks

AdminFebruary 6, 2015December 14, 2018

By LizGoodwin04

I arrived a week and a half ago to “The Land of Smiles,” also known as Thailand, and its nickname has certainly lived up to its reputation. This past weekend, our program arranged a trip for the students to visit a mountain forest temple in rural Thailand. To get to the hidden temple, we piled into the typical mode of public transportation in Thailand, a Songthaew (pronounced song-tau.) A Songthaew acts as a cross between a bus and a taxi. This taxi/bus hybrid is a pick up truck with a covered bed and two rows of benches facing each other; in Thai, song is two and thaew is bench. After a very bumpy, but beautiful one and a half hour ride through small villages, past forests of rubber trees and through rice fields, we arrived at the temple.

Once we arrived, we were brought to the most serene garden, where we sat on straw mats and got a lesson from a Thai monk on Buddhism. Different perspectives on life and the continuity of life fascinate me, so I was very excited to hear what the monk had to share with us. It was difficult to understand everything the monk was trying to convey, as he spoke little English, but his main message was to let go of suffering and pain, because while the body may die, the mind lives on forever. After his beautiful lesson, he led us in a one hour meditation.

Feeling calm and renewed, we went to set up the area where we would be sleeping that night. There was an awning in part of the forest, with straw mats placed underneath it to sleep. We hung our mosquito nets and then tried to go to sleep. However, we quickly learned why the Thais refer to their 95-degree weather as the cold season. At nighttime, it is freezing! Imagine 25 students in nothing but t-shirts and jeans in the middle of the forest in Thailand without any blankets or pillows, trying to sleep on the ground…. Not fun, but kind of funny. Note to future study abroad students in Thailand, bring a sweater because it is not always 95+ degrees!

After momentarily questioning our decision to sign up to sleep on a cold, hard ground, we were reassured we made the right decision the following morning. At 6 am, a nun (the term for a female Buddhist monk) woke us up with three strikes of a gong to meditate and help prepare breakfast. As the morning wore on, more and more Thais were showing up from the village below the temple to meet the farang (foreigner in Thai) and offer the monk, as well as us, food.

Offering alms to the monks of the village is a daily practice in Thai life. Typically, Thais will line up at sunrise to give food to the monks. At 8 am, we each lined up with a plate of cooked sticky rice and offered the rice to the monk of the temple, who collected the alms in a large metal pot. The monk must collect a lot of food in the morning because he is only allowed to eat one meal a day. This is an act to practice self-control and self-discipline, two very important tenets in the Buddhist faith.

After giving alms to the monk, we sat and meditated with the monk longer before diving into a feast of food. At this point, there were at least 30 villagers, the monk and nuns, as well as about 25 American students and we were all very hiu, or hungry. We scarfed down sticky rice, bananas, tamarind, fish, green papaya salad, and some brave ones even tried chicken heart and liver. Even after eating as much as we could, it seemed we hadn’t even made a dent in the food!

Shortly after breakfast, we paid respects to the monk and the villagers one last time before climbing back into songthaews to go back to the university in Khon Kaen. It was overwhelming to see how accepting everyone was to welcome us to their temple and it was so kind to see a group of strangers have such an outpouring of affection to people they had just met. It was interesting to compare the teachings of Buddhism side-by-side with the values of Buddhism in action.

Ataaya & Teranga

AdminOctober 7, 2014December 14, 2018

By rosessupposes

« Etranger, ne partez pas aussi vite. Restez-vous et prenez une casse du thé » / “Stranger, do not pass away so fast. Stay and take a cup of tea”

This is the translated line of a local poem concerning the ataaya ceremony. Ataaya is a drink made from loose-leaf green tea, mint leaves, and a lot of sugar. Since I have been in Senegal (now over a month), I have had the pleasure of having ataaya many times and I’ve started to learn a fair amount about it.

First, the preparation:

People here rarely have stoves. Instead, they have gas cans of kerosene or propane and cook on open flames. Water for ataaya is heated directly on these cans or on small beds of coals. The tea used is a Chinese green tea, which here is often called just “chine”. An entire box of leaves is poured into the kettle, and the effect is a very strong-brewed tea. Then sugar is added, usually at least 4 or 5 cubes.

Second, the presentation:

Ataaya is served in a small “casse” – a small glass that resembles an American shot glass. Before pouring tea to serve, a small amount is poured back and forth between glasses to create a layer of froth at the top. I asked my host brother why this is done. He said ‘because it looks pretty’. But regardless of why, it’s universally practiced in all the regions of Senegal I’ve been to thus far. When the tea is ready, everyone close by is offered a casse, and often someone will go throughout the house to offer it to other family members/guests.

Third, the discussion:

The most important part of ataaya is not the tea itself, but the ceremony of being together in a group while preparing. The most traditional practice of ataaya involves three rounds. The first, the most bitter. The second, with added mint leaves. The third, the most sugar. These three rounds provide ample opportunity to discuss life issues and to inquire after others’ families. Problems are brought to ataaya to be discussed and resolved. It involves much more than merely drinking tea. Because of this, one never uses the verb ‘boire’ or ‘to drink’ when discussing ataaya. Instead, the Senegalese use ‘prendre’ or ‘faire’ – ‘to take’ or ‘to do’.

Another very important aspect of this ceremony is tied up in a concept that is central to the Senegalese way of life: teranga. This word translates more or less to ‘hospitality’ in the second-most prominent language, Wolof. Part of teranga encompasses the importance of welcoming foreigners to the country or city they are visiting. I have just returned to Dakar from a week of vacation in towns that were much more off the beaten path. While there, I and my travelling companions were welcomed with open arms and were able to receive deep insights into life in the places we visited purely by virtue of locals who wanted to make us feel welcome. We took ataaya in the village of Podor when our new friend and guide, the grandson of the village’s imam, brought us to meet some of his friends. This also showed another aspect of teranga- to welcome family, friends, and strangers into one’s house. If you stop by a family’s home near a mealtime, it’s not unusual at all to invite them in for a full meal. And by that same token, if you happen to be preparing ataaya when three Americans come into the hotel, matters like showing them rooms and discussing prices are not nearly as important as welcoming them with a casse each.

Traveling one week through Senegal without any particular schedule has kept me aware of many of the risks of traveling in a foreign country. In a country with so much un- and under-employment, many vendors can be very persistent and sometimes desperate to have obvious foreigners patronize their businesses. But no matter the size of city I and my friends passed, from old French colonial capital, to older towns on the Senegalese river, to tiny villages that are still waiting on a real bridge to be connected to the main road, we found that the Senegalese truly embrace the idea of hospitality and welcoming new people to their towns and lives. From tours guides to tea ceremonies, Senegal is truly proving to be «La pays de teranga »

Minha primeira seman na Bahia (My first week in Bahia!)

AdminSeptember 8, 2014December 14, 2018

By marisalgado94

Happy Brazilian Independence Day!

Although, funny enough most Brazilians are sad that the holiday falls on a Sunday… they love holidays during the week because then, they have work off!

Anyways, I have arrived in Salvador, Brazil and the past 7 days have been an absolute whirlwind. From missing a plane in São Paulo and almost losing my luggage, to arriving at a hostel run by nuns and meeting the 20 other students on my program, and finally, to moving in with my host family in the neighborhood of Alto de Ondina, I have had ups and downs.

One of the biggest challenges I have faced so far is that I do not speak any Portuguese. I grew up learning Spanish and that has helped me to understand a lot of what people are saying. When it comes to trying to respond, however, every sentence is a struggle that sometimes I win and sometimes I don’t. The best part is that most people are very understanding and willing to listen to my Spanliguese (Spanish, English, and Portuguese). I have gotten very good at saying thank you, “obridaga” and please speak more slowly, “por favor fala mais devaghar”!

One of the best experiences I have had so far was when we were sent out in groups of 4, told to take the bus to a certain location, and conduct interviews with locals. At first, the thought of using a public transportation system that we didn’t know and having to communicate with people when we didn’t speak the language made everyone a bit nervous. After having the opportunity to explore the Rio Vermelho, our drop off site, we all became much more comfortable navigating the city and practicing our Portuguese.

This first week in Salvador has been full of adventure and I couldn’t be happier. Isn’t that one of the reasons to travel abroad? To immerse yourself completely in a new culture and learn and experience all the country has to teach you? This semester won’t be easy, but I know that in the end, it will all be worth it. I cannot wait to continue learning Portuguese, start digging into my research project (topic to be decided!) and continue to get to know my host family. Here’s to 15 more weeks in Bahia!

Tchau!

Marissa

Two Months in São Paulo (Already?)

AdminSeptember 2, 2014

On September 3, I will have been in São Paulo, Brazil, for two months; August 28 marked 8 weeks--measure it however you want. I've been in classes for four weeks now, and the four weeks prior were for my Portuguese classes. It feels simultaneously like I've been here for ages, and like I just arrived yesterday. Some background on my time here: I'm here with the CIEE Liberal Arts program, which included a month-long summer session with intensive Language and Culture classes; since the beginning of August, I've been an exchange student in PUC, a private/Catholic university here in São Paulo. I'm living with a host family, although in my case, it's just one woman. She lives in a nice, residential neighborhood about a 30 minute walk from my school. Since classes started, that has been my main focus--I've been fully immersed in Brazilian home and academic culture. The overwhelming sensation since I've been here, that only grows stronger with time, is one of not being a visitor, but of truly living here.

This has its pros and its cons. At the beginning, I was very good about getting out and "experiencing" the city; I went to museums, I walked around neighborhoods, I did the suggested cultural activities that CIEE planned (they are, by the way, incredible about this). Recently, however, I had a crisis--I was not being cultural enough. I was not looking at art, going out to eat, exploring new neighborhoods, what have you. I sat down and I planned itineraries for myself of places I wanted to go, see, do--and have proceeded to do exactly none of them.

I had to think a lot about this, though. I came to Brazil to learn about Brazilian culture and, specifically, to understand the concept of development and community service in Brazil. My concentration in my International Affairs major is International Development and I study Anthropology as well, so here, I'm interested in understanding the work done by NGOs and non-profits in a range of contexts and the role that these play in the lives of Brazilians. In a broader sense, I want to understand the culture of Brazil, in all of its forms and manifestations. I thought that all of that looking at art, going out to eat, exploring new neighborhoods, and, especially, volunteering would be the way to go about this. Instead, I'm finding this to be an exercise in what culture is and where it manifests itself. It is immensely challenging for me, this new approach.

For example, even though I'm here very specifically to have a wide range of community service experiences, I have not started volunteering. But, as my friend pointed out, there is a cultural explanation for this. As opposed to the United States, where the basic unit of everything functional and cultural is the individual, the basic cultural unit here is the personal. It's a difficult concept to explain, but certain things form the base of Brazilian culture here, and none of them is the autonomous individual--instead, social ties form the base of Brazilian culture. All of this is to say, I have not started volunteering because even though people really care about the work that they do with their organizations, finding me, individually, a volunteer spot is not a priority; in other words, it's not about me, because Brazilian culture revolves around something bigger than an individual.

In this absence of volunteering, I've been spending my time doing other things that are also cultural at only more than a first glance. The three classes I'm taking here at my university--which is phenomenal, a very progressive and community-based space--have been incredible: The Sociology and Society of Brazil; Interamerican Politics; and Identities, Culture, and Tourism. My host mom is incredible, and has been so welcoming of me into her home and her extended family, allowing me to tag along to birthday parties, family dinners, soccer-game-viewings, everything. The food is incredible; although I rarely go out to eat in a formal sense of the word, food is everywhere and always very, very good. The bars are incredible--possibly because Brazil is so social, nightlife is very important and very central to the social life as a whole. The beach town that I went to in early August was incredible. The graffiti is incredible. And all of it, even if I have to think about it long and hard, is, in fact, cultural. The challenge, for me, lies in not becoming passive, not letting my time here slide by; I need to start volunteering and I do need to go look at art, walk around, all of that, but I also need to make sure that I'm really thinking about everything and understanding the culture that surrounds me every day.