So, this is it: my last post for this blog. I think in my first entry after arriving in Prague, I said something to the effect of me not even being able to put into words how I felt about the kinds of experiences I had had just in that first week. I think now I can say with confidence that that's true of the entire semester, really. The places I've been, things I've done, and people I've met have all had such a profound effect on me that I can't even begin to describe it. So I'm not going to try to! ...continue reading "The End"
Tag: Europe
An Almost Post-Study Abroad Manifesto to Myself
By asthaa
Based on Things I’ve Learned/Observed/Reaffirmed in Spain
On the subject of friends:
- You never know where you will make a friend and how quickly he or she might bring out the best in you.
- You may not see a friend often or for long, and she may not know it, but she will be the person that lifts your spirit on any given day.
- You will have moments of friendship with someone or just a few hours and that will be it. And that’s okay. The time spent together is still a something that’s yours to keep.
- You may not consider yourself a cat person, but just wait until you have two cute ones waiting for you at the door in the afternoon, wanting to play and just hang out near you.
- Sometimes a three-way friendship also involves switching between three languages.
- People’s smiles. They can become embedded in your mind, something about them you never forget.
- A hug. It can work wonders. ...continue reading "An Almost Post-Study Abroad Manifesto to Myself"
What I’ll Always Remember/Miss
By rlubitz
So I’m off. I’ve got about four days left of London. The time is split by a trip to continental Europe where I’ll be able to compare the awesomeness of this city to a lot of others. But I know nothing can compare to this place. Nothing can compare to walking to the coffee shop and seeing Big Ben in the distance. Nothing can compare to being called ‘dear’ on a daily basis. Nothing can compare to constant dog sweaters.
I’ve spent roughly three months in this city and I could spend the rest of my life here too. Never once was I homesick for the regularity of Washington, DC or the charm of Florida, my home state. It was like this city absorbed me, body and soul and then I just existed. I was always excited to get out of my room, just walk around, maybe go to a market and look at pretty things all day. And I didn’t even have to go to a market to see pretty things all day, I could just take a stroll through Hyde Park or by the Thames.
Beauty was so regularly available that it became the norm but I can see myself waking up to the sounds of emergency vehicles again in DC and whimpering for the beauty back.
When I first arrived I was so anxiety-ridden that the time seemed to zoom by. It was only when I realized my days were numbered that I began to savor. And I’m so glad I did. It started to become a game in my head where I would not let a day go by without doing something new, without being pleased with my day and those were the days I’ll remember for a long time. It could be a simple thing like a walk or a museum outing for under an hour. I just had the self-motivation to do pretty much everything and I’m so glad I did.
Travel is stressful and you can have an absolutely crippling breakdown thinking of all the things that could go wrong. Your bag could get stolen, you could break your iPhone, your hair straightener could erupt in flame, you could be forced to have the most awkward breakfast of your life at your Berlin hostel. All of those things could happen and you could be left in a state of absolute misery but what you have to remember, totally and absolutely, is that you are in a foreign country. I know people who have never been on a plane before, who have never seen snow and if you remember how lucky you are to have traveled to be living in London then everything becomes fine.
I could not have asked for a better stay here. It felt like I could finally breathe without stalling after I got over the initial hump. It was like taking a shot of happy every morning.
I’ll be riding on those memories when I go home. I’ll be nostalgic to the point of annoyance. I could be having a wretched day but then I’ll think of the red buses and almost getting run over and the dog sweaters and the stress will pour off. I have these memories to ride on and I’m so thankful.
I’m going to miss a lot of things. I’m going miss the smell of croissants and expensive coffee. I’m going to miss escaping into the city by myself with my own motives, on my own terms. I’m going to miss the red buses and the tube. I’m going to miss Parisian weekends and bus rides through the countryside. I’m going to miss the trees and the roses. I’m going to miss the sound of my neighbor’s voice. I’m going to miss the bottles clinking at three in the morning. I’m going to miss how the air felt after a day of rain. I’m going to miss how my hair has looked for three months. I’m going to miss my hairdresser who cut my bangs and spoke zero English. I’m going to miss boys who wear oxfords and argyle. I’m going to miss the horrible Chinese food in Camden. I’m going to miss walking down Drury Lane and Fleet Street. I’m going to miss the scooters and I’m going to miss the city. I’m going to miss this city but I know I’ll be back. I have to be.
Paris, til we meet again
As the semester comes to a close I sit in a small Parisian cafe with a friend I've made over the course of the past months speaking in a mix of French and English. We listen to the sounds of the other patrons - French, something more guttural, German, another language I can't identify, Chinese - while the sweet aromatic tendrils of coffee seep into our clothes. I look forward to saving the smell for later. It always reminds me, this cafe, of the idealistic Paris I'd envisioned and have, in some small part, gotten to know.
This past weekend I was in Lyon, for Fete des Lumieres. A festival of lights commemorating the day that Mary saved the town from the plague. They'd all prayed for her protection and put lights in their windows, as if they could send their prayers to heaven's gates through flame. I watched a young girl and her mother light candles from a balcony's window, and it was easy to imagine in that old, small town, a different generation from centuries earlier doing exactly the same. ...continue reading "Paris, til we meet again"
How to Have a Breakdown Without Really Trying
By rlubitz
To prepare for my impending departure I’m having a very slight, slow breakdown both physically and mentally. It’s going to be a while before I leave Europe, I’ll be going on a 2-week mega adventure with my mom between now and then. Think The Amazing Race except it’s me and my little mama trying to not get mugged the entire time. I see hilarity ensuing and hopefully I can update you here on that.
But I’m in the middle of final paper time and my body is completely shutting down. I set my alarm every day for 9am and I can’t seem to wake up before noon. It’s not that I’m all that tired but it’s that there’s an entire season of Freaks and Geeks online and it trumps sleep every single night. I’m making pretty much 0 progress on papers now, instead choosing to wake up late and think of all the things I’m not going to see when I’m really gone. (grim, right?) ...continue reading "How to Have a Breakdown Without Really Trying"
I Was Robbed
By oncptime
https://vimeo.com/54572598
Not a lot of people know this about me, but…I kind of, secretly, passionately, desperately dream of being a filmmaker. If you take a look at my resume, you’ll see a fair number of projects that scream “video production.” They’re not there by mistake—I absolutely love video editing. More than editing though, I like telling stories using more than just words. I love creating brief glimpses into make-believe worlds that are occasionally fantastic or sometimes mundane, but are always borne of my imagination.
In short, I like to mess around, write stories, and shoot them out with my camera. You can imagine my excitement when I heard word of Florence’s second annual “Florence Fone Film Festival.” The premise was simple: a competition amongst American and Italian students in Florence challenging them to use the cameras build into their phones to make 2 minute films.
I’m no stranger to making tight little videos in the pursuit of a glamorous prize. This year, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place winners received an iPhone, iPod Touch, and iPod Nano respectively. “I can do this,” I thought. It’d be easy. I’d sit down, plan out an idea, and execute it—bada-bing, bada-boom. And so I did.
On Goodbyes and Going Home
By squeakyrobot
Time has this strange way of moving forward. This is a truth we’ve known for most of our lives, and yet we’re often surprised by the sheer speed of days and the fleeting quality of moment
Ever since I stepped on Russian soil, I appreciated every single moment. I appreciated the air. Every walk home. Every person who made me laugh. Every snowflake and cup of tea. Every scoop of sour cream and every ray of sunshine (they were so infrequent, you know). I had (and still have) gratitude for everything, Russian and otherwise, and this makes living great.s, as if these concepts are brand-new or unexpected.
Which makes going home not so bad. It’s not as if I have wasted my time here and took everything, every opportunity and experience, for granted. I knew from the beginning I would blink, and my time in Russia would be gone. So I was very present-oriented, and I did what I could and nothing more. ...continue reading "On Goodbyes and Going Home"
Finding Refuge in La Fugitiva
By asthaa
There’s a precious little bookstore/café in Madrid called “La Fugitiva,” or the fugitive. It’s up the street from the famous Reina Sofia museum on Calle Santa Ysabel (yes, Isabel with a “y”). The wooden floors squeak as you walk in. The door needs an extra push to close completely. Antique wooden toys decorate the store windows along with a collection of works on philosophy and a seasonal selection of Christmas books. The little tables and chairs around the shop don’t match and no customer gets the same coffee mug. The guys who work there are friendly and seem to be able to offer recommendations to even the most obscure reading questions. The walls are filled with posters for art shows coming and past, lectures, and offers of dance and language classes. There are some corners where little flakes of paint fall in your lap if your chair happens to scratch the wall. If you come into chat with a friend, it’s quiet and easy to sip coffee and share a muffin in peace. If you’re there to study, there are enough people searching through books, working or chatting so that it’s not too silent, but people keep voices low so that it’s conducive to writing borderline major papers. This quiet and lovely little shop I discovered a month ago upon recommendation of my host mom is my favorite place to study outside my home and I only have eight days left to enjoy it. The woes of the sun setting on my semester here in Madrid. ...continue reading "Finding Refuge in La Fugitiva"
Departure
By jfbarszcz
Today is Sunday, December 9th, at about 2:30 PM CET. Exactly six days from now, I will be boarding a plane and leaving the city I've called home for the last three months, with no idea when I'll return. I definitely have mixed feelings about having to come back to the States. On the one hand, I'm very excited to be able to see my family and friends again, and there are many comforts at home that I simply do not have here. On the other hand... I desperately want to spend another semester here. I feel like the amount of time I've spent here hasn't been enough to really, fully explore and experience everything I've wanted to just in Prague, to say nothing of the Czech Republic and Europe as a whole. While I spent my first couple of weeks here practically overdosing on new experiences, as classes started, the weather got colder, and the days got shorter I inevitably had to slow down. If I could do another semester in Prague, I absolutely would without question. Unfortunately, my academic obligations make this impossible. But I'm not sweating it, since in all likelihood this won't be my last time in Europe. ...continue reading "Departure"
A Russian Thanksgiving
By squeakyrobot
Thanksgiving was an unconventional affair, but it was close enough to tradition that I consider it one of the best Turkey Days of my lifetime. Although I was in a foreign place, that fact didn’t really make itself known at any point during the festivities.
It’s all in the company.
My program organized an extravagant feast for us. They ordered twelve turkeys, thirty pounds of mashed potatoes, and enough green beans to match. They also ordered enough meat and fruit pies to feed half of Petersburg. ...continue reading "A Russian Thanksgiving"