Hey girl, hey!

AdminSeptember 17, 2012

“Hey girl, hey! I was just about to get a froyo in admo, you want to join?” “Totes! I just pulled an all-nighter and still need to get some groceries, but I’ll drop by fobogro later. Just give me two minutes.” “No probs, it’s so obvi you’re exhausted, I’m shocked you’re still up!”

- Behold: an average conversation between two GW girls running into each other on campus. I did try to cram as much slang words into these three sentences, but the words or expressions that you do not recognize are probably the words that a student at GWU knows, if not uses regularly.

My favourite slang words are words that one uses daily, and that are quite inconspicuous in character – words such as totes, obvi and probs. During the orientation week three weeks ago, the Office for Study Abroad taught us a short slang lesson, which was quite hilarious at the time, and my roommates and I are sometimes still making fun of it. However, with hindsight, it was quite helpful, and if I do not pay any attention to the language I am using, you might even catch me using these words for real. Another one of my favourites is the word hipster – a word describing someone who is considered to be a little alternative, or ‘indie’. In the beginning of our stay here on campus, my roommates and myself came up with nicknames for each other, and we continue to teasingly call one of us ‘Hipstah B.’

(Short digression: My nickname is ‘Miss Liza’, resulting from a short encounter with a man who fixed our power plugs – who continuously called me Miss Liza. He was very friendly, but now I am stuck with this name because my roommates won’t stop going on about it.)

Of course, there is a fine line between using slang and being inappropriate. For instance, if I would talk to my professors in the language as used in the dialogue I cooked up above, they would probably tell me off or at least lessen their opinion of me. Even for me, when somebody I just met tells me things like ‘F* meeeee’, I feel a little uncomfortable (this really happened). Nevertheless, in general, it is fun and easy to abbreviate your language.

Thesaurus:

Hey girl, hey! Greeting a random friend in the street

Froyo Frozen Yoghurt

Admo Adam’s Morgan, a very popular street in DC during nights, with lots of clubs and bars

Totes! Totally!

Pull an all-nighter Spend an entire night studying

Fobogro Foggy Bottom Grocery (foggy bottom is the name of the GWU campus area in DC)

Probs Can be used in two instances: probably, or problem(s)

Obvi Obviously!

I’m shocked I am surprised

I hope this was all very enlightening. Have a good one, laters!

What the Dutch can learn from the Americans

AdminSeptember 10, 2012

By lizalunstroo

An unconventional title – coming from the patriot I am (not really). I am not the first to say that the Americans can learn a whole lot from the Dutch, but I would really like to tackle the same issue from the opposite angle. Since my arrival in the US six weeks ago, I have visited no less than 10 states, and naturally, D.C. too. The lasting impression that I acquired in those weeks traveling around, was a feeling of being welcome – the natural state of each American is to say ‘welcome’ to each foreigner that roams their country. Now, this state is not something that the Dutch have managed to attain too successfully, and in my opinion, accomplishing this would greatly enhance our country’s international image.

Traditionally, the Netherlands was a country of refuge to people who were frowned upon in their own country because of their different opinions, such as Spinoza and Descartes. I do not mean to bore you with history lessons about the Dutch Golden Age [seventeenth century, roughly], but the point I want to make is that the attitudes of the Dutch people have changed a great deal since then. Recent monitors in Maastricht (where my home university is located) among foreign students show that they do not feel very welcome, and that it can certainly feel as if people would rather see them go than come. Other reports and monitors show that they feel culturally marginalized by the municipal government, expats feel unwelcome, language barriers form significant obstacles and different population groups do not mingle well. Of course, this only pertains to Maastricht, and becomes an immense generalization if applied to the rest of the country. Recent national election polls show, however, that 13% of the population will vote for the most right-wing party the Dutch currently know, the PVV. This party advocates a stop to immigration and a withdrawal from the European Union, a proposition that should already give you an indication of how idiotic and populist this party aims to be, but let me not digress from my initial subject.

For me, the last few weeks have been a breath of fresh air, from the security guy at DC’s airport welcoming me, to neighbors on the campgrounds, to the cashiers in supermarkets who wondered where I was from and, upon hearing the answer, immediately welcomed us wholeheartedly, to the people that I meet daily at this university. This attitude makes me feel welcome, truly.

Label: Amsterdam Hall – my current home

Now, I do not want to look down on the Netherlands quite so harshly as it might have come across earlier. Of course, in general, I do not believe that foreigners in the Netherlands feel particularly unwelcome, I just believe that we could make them feel more welcome than they might feel at the moment, through having a more open-minded attitude than usual. What is the point of that? The point is that it makes the transition from one culture into another a lot easier and more pleasant, something I can already fully support through experiencing this myself. Also, in the long term, it makes people more aware of the new cultural habits and in turn, this might encourage them to become an active participant in civil society. Like I said, my arrival and subsequent stay in the US has been one of a true welcoming spirit, and any daring student encountering a different culture and country deserves the same treatment. That is why I chose this title, and that is why the Dutch can learn from the Americans.

P.S. Disclaimer (how American!): I do love the Netherlands, and people should definitely come visit. Also, whenever I speak to people here in the US that have been to the Netherlands, they are very positive about the Dutch. We have beautiful canals, buildings, history and in general, people are not so mean as you might think after reading this.

Academic Hysteria and its Remedies

AdminSeptember 10, 2012

By lizalunstroo

I have no idea whether the following entry can be viewed to represent all exchange students and freshmen here at GW, but I have some anecdotal evidence, not to say memorized roommate conversation transcripts, that tell me other students are dealing with the same issues. The first week of class has just concluded and I can say with full honesty that the first few days were very scary.

The amounts of reading that are involved here are similar to my home university – about fifty pages as preparation for each meeting. The big difference being, however, that I have nine classes each week, instead of five, meaning that the amount of reading is almost double of what I am used to. Nevertheless, this is not the biggest issue, because I can handle the amount of reading. No, the thing that really hit me this week, and I guess the other students too, is the realization that the coming months are not a semester-long holiday with some occasional studying, but rather the other way around. My plans of traveling during the weekends and exploring the city in my spare time have had to make place for my academic ambitions and duties, even though I will try and squeeze a little trip into my schedule here and there.

Yes, life at GW is certainly very busy. At the beginning of this week, a huge student organizations fair was organized, with all student orgs trying to recruit freshmen for their activities. The event in itself was very exciting, having some delicious food and simply strolling along all the stands admiring (and sometimes shying away from) all the promotional talks and shouting. In the end, I decided to become a member of the International Affairs Society, where I hopefully will be able to attend cool events, both academically and socially oriented. In addition, I enrolled in the George Washington College Democrats. My friends and myself already acquired quite some cool stickers, buttons and other promotional items for both candidates, simply because the campaigns are currently full-fledged. Of course, the main reason for me (and most of my fellow exchange students) to become a part of the College Democrats is to become involved and be able to follow the raging political campaigns, both of them trying to out-do the other. Sorry to say (although it was a good decision, budgetary-wise), my roommates and I, when shopping for the apartment, decided not to buy a television. As a consequence, we won’t be able to follow the live debates, conventions, or other political events that are broadcast by the main news channels. The only options that I’m left with is either to stalk my neighbors on our floor (who did buy a television), which is a little inappropriate; or to go the gym, which is not even one block’s walking distance away, and watch television while working on my fitness. Indeed, this is how I managed to watch parts of the GOP convention earlier this week!

As for the remedies to such a busy academic and social life here at GW: I haven’t figured out how to balance everything yet. Nevertheless, I think it is a matter of setting your priorities, which is hard when friends are going out or when there are cool welcome-events being organized. The coming few weeks will be a test for me, and hopefully I will learn how to deal with all the different aspects of college life here at GW very soon.

My first month as an almost-American, Dutch student

AdminAugust 27, 2012

By lizalunstroo

I now spent one month in the US, of the six in total, and I would like to share with you what I have encountered and done so far. Over the course of the first three weeks, I traveled around the East Coast with my family in a humongous RV trailer. We visited many places; New York City, Newport, Boston, Salem, Washington D.C, Elizabethtown, Cape Cod, Middleborough, Provincetown and some national parks, among other sites. During this trip, when in NYC, what I enjoyed most was the cycling tour that we took of Brooklyn. Perhaps the reason why lies in culture – typically, the Dutch use bicycles as a means of transport, rather than for recreational purposes. Bikes in Amsterdam are like the subway in American cities: both are used en masse. It was a relief to once again, after walking endlessly through all the places we visited, sit on a bike and leisurely explore Manhattan (leisurely might be a bit exaggerated, what with the traffic) and Brooklyn. I also enjoyed Boston a lot, walking the freedom trail and visiting the USS Constitution, after which taking a water shuttle back to the city center.

As transpiring from my narrative, I was still behaving like a tourist at this time, and had nothing much to worry about, seeing that my parents took care of most things. However, this changed radically the day my family flew back to Amsterdam and I was left alone in the Big Apple, carrying my huge suitcases on the subway and through the center of the city in the pouring rain. Saying goodbye to my family was harder than I thought, however, more practical things, such as getting to the correct station and track soon overtook these emotions and propelled me forward. I felt more and more comfortable, traveling alone. Also, keeping in touch with my future roommates, who were planning to arrive in DC that day too, made me feel excited, happy and adventurous all at the same time. For all I knew, I felt like an explorer, on her first trip around the world. Of course, the actual distance to be covered was only about 230 miles, but who cares?

From my arrival on in DC, I felt like a deer in a car’s headlights; only difference was, I didn’t need saving. Loads of information, new people, academic issues to worry about, dorm parties in the evening (causing everyone to be late for the morning program), shopping for the apartment for three days with sore muscles as a consequence, (unplanned, and slightly irresponsible) monument tours by night, another (planned) monument tour during the day, orientation week, keeping in touch with your parents and friends (the time difference complicates things even further), complete strangers (roommates) who you’re going to be sharing everything with for a full semester, and many more matters that needed to be taken care of all started to come together and tumble around in my head over and over again. My advice: go with the flow and never mind the lack of sleep or the mess that’s supposed to be your apartment.

More exciting things are coming up, and more exciting things that I haven’t even mentioned here have already occurred, but I hope you got a small impression of my first week here at GW. It’s certainly very thrilling and quite exhausting too, but the fun is too big to miss out on.

Welcoming our Fall 2012 Blogger!

AdminJuly 30, 2012Leave a comment

By gwblogabroad

I hope you all will join me in welcoming our new fall 2012 blogger, Liza! Liza will be attending GW from the University of Maastricht in the Netherlands and is quite excited to be here during the upcoming election season. Read more about Liza and her upcoming semester here.

A Tale of Anticipation and Preparation

AdminJuly 30, 2012

By gwblogabroad

So, here I am, a normal Dutch girl: coming from a country where the prevailing attitude is no-nonsense, middle-of-the-road and straightforward, going to a country where, if I rely on my expectations, people are over-the-top, use superlatives and scream OMG every opportunity they get. Of course, my expectations are inaccurate, having never been to the United States. Nevertheless, not even in my wildest dreams did I expect to go to The George Washington University in Washington, D.C.! To top all that, I get the opportunity to be there during the 2012 presidential elections and find out all about the political system on the ground first hand, as well as experience the American way of democracy for myself.

Before introducing to you my intentions for the coming five months, a proper introduction is appropriate. My name is Liza. I am twenty years old and studying international relations and international law at my home institution, the University of Maastricht in the Netherlands. An inherently international university, my experiences there convinced me of the necessity to encounter different cultures, in order to create more understanding and sympathy through shared experiences. I thoroughly enjoy listening to music, meeting up with friends, reading, and getting obsessed with sometimes slightly random things, but mostly with political developments, both nationally (Dutch) and internationally.

Over the past few months I have been preparing for my semester abroad. I learned the hard way in my preparation, because I never expected having to provide such massive amounts of documentation and material. This might have been naive of me, but preparing for a semester in the United States takes a lot of patience, money, and energy. What kept me going was the thought that in the end, I can reap the fruits from the experience (that is what partners in (mis)fortune kept telling me). Besides, I have found that I enjoy this - preparing is a lot more fun when you know what to look forward to. Not knowing what exactly to expect, I do intend to completely immerse myself in American culture, and as a student of international affairs, GW might just be the most perfect spot I could have imagined to study. Over the next few months, I will update you on my experiences in the United States. I plan to compare the United States and The Netherlands and reflect on both cultures, not to judge and over-emphasize differences, but most of all, to find similarities between the two. I can already assure you that my experiences are very likely to be amazing and insightful, so follow me and enjoy the ride!

The unsuspected hell of packing

AdminMay 17, 2012

By gwblogabroad

There it is, I am leaving. After 9 months in Washington I am going back to France, and more precisely to a socialist France, which makes it all the more fun. It's important because even if I haven't completely understood Americans, living in the United States for one year made me a little bit more France (it is the moment when you grab a tissue). For anyone who considers going abroad at some point I would say: do it. When you grow up in a country you take a lot of things for granted and you will never be able to actually take time to think about the logic of such traditions or ways of life if you don't go live abroad for a while.

Everybody has been asking me for a couple of days : "are you happy to go back?" or "are you sad to go back?". I am neither of those because I knew up front I would be leaving in May. I am just happy to have finished my finals (I don't want to upset those who haven't but it feels great).

Yet, I have one thing left to do: packing, which turned out to be more difficult than what I expected. There are six stages in this process:

1) Optimism: First, you start by thinking you'll bring everything back because your brother who came for spring break took with him a couple of books and a coat.

2) Coming back to reality : You realize it is not going to happen so you start thinking about what you are going to leave. You start by throwing away every useless piece of paper (you did not intend to bring that back anyway but it makes the drawers look emptier which is reassuring).

3) Skepticism: You decide to leave your old clothes: white T-shirts that turned blue, embarrassing underwear, the cap your running instructor gave you (yes, he is back!).

4) Panic: You have everything you did not care about and your suitcases are still almost full (you have not put your books and dirty clothes in there yet). You start panicking, you check how much it would cost to ship them (a lot). You understand that is not going to happen.

5) Frustration: Your criteria to throw away clothes become stricter: shoes that hurt your feet, T-shirt you can only pair with one skirt, green sweaters (yes, at some point you need to be arbitrary).

6) Resignation: You decide to leave your ukulele behind.

Good luck everybody - GW students, exchange students - with finals, packings, going back home.

Peace from France.

Someday, somewhere, somehow…

AdminMay 17, 2012

By gwblogabroad

Nineteen years old… I thought reaching that age would make me an adult. That’s exactly how I started my first article four months ago. It was my first day in DC. I wanted to tell the whole world that I was alone. I wanted to let everybody know that I was scared. I wanted to scream and make people realize that I was terrified of being completely on my own. Instead, I spent the night crying. Instead, I drew a huge smile on my face when “Skyping” with my parents and pretended I was the most excited person on Earth. Instead, I decided to keep my fears for myself and promised myself I would try to stay mentally sane until I can finally go back home. I didn’t want to think that things could get better. I didn’t want to believe that this experience could actually turn out to be the best adventure I’ve lived in my entire life.

I perfectly remember that first day in this exact same room where I am writing this right now. But nothing except for the location is the same today. I was in a dark, empty room whose smell reminded me of a hospital. Almost too clean I would say… Today, I am sitting in this room and I can’t help but feel a twinge when I think about how I am leaving this place in two weeks. I am never going to see this homely, cozy and joyful room again. This room was my home for a whole semester, and now I have to say my goodbyes as I am leaving it forever.

I also have to say goodbye to my friends. I realize that I may very likely never see them again. Now I know that there are planes and that technology can help us stay in touch, but I am a very practical and realistic person. Flying to the US or Asia is not something I can do on a monthly basis and with a seven hour time difference between Morocco and the closest of my friends to Africa, I am not sure that finding a suitable time to chat every day is going to be a piece of cake. This is the hardest part, the part where I realize that I am going to have to say goodbye.

Maybe that somehow, if I was so scared on that first day, it was because I was afraid that if I fully enjoyed my time here, that would mean that I didn’t need my family and friends as much as before, or that I don’t actually miss them. Maybe I was scared I wouldn’t find anybody to have such an incredible experience with. Or maybe I was just afraid of actually meeting people, giving them a place in my heart, having the most amazing adventure anybody can wish for and realizing that I am going to have to say goodbye. I hate goodbyes. They shouldn’t exist. People should be together if they want to be together, and I want to stay with my friends. But I want to stay with my family as well. So, unless we all move in with our different families in one specific country in order to live happily ever after, goodbyes are an inevitable necessity.

I started this semester crying, and I am ending it crying again. But these are not tears of fear. These are a beautiful mix of joy, pride and nostalgia. I met so many different people. Some were incredible, others hurt me. But no matter who these people were or how they interacted with me, they all made me a better person. And for that, I truly am grateful. I accomplished a dream that I had. I crossed the Atlantic Ocean, by myself, on my own. Then I have been to the most beautiful and incredible places in the United States, with my friends. I slept in horrible seven dollars a night hotels and I saw Disney World. For God’s sake I saw New York City! I did it. I did all of it and I am proud of what this experience brought to my life and made me realize about myself. My name is Salma, I am nineteen years old and I am finally ready to become an adult.

Now I am scared of coming back, re-adapting to my old life with my new self. But I won’t let my fears get a hold of me anymore. I can’t allow myself to risk missing out on something great just because it also might be hard. My heart oddly hurts when I think about how I might not see my friends again. Tears unintentionally fill my eyes when I think about their smiles and the magical time we spent together. But I am happy. I am grateful I got to live those moments with those people and I will always think of my time here as being… magical. Just like Alice went to wonderland, I went to the US and there was just as much magic in both those stories. So, goodbye, my friends, goodbye… Who knows, I might see you again someday, somewhere, somehow…

Please don’t hurt me!

AdminApril 25, 2012

By gwblogabroad

I’ve hesitated for a long time before finally deciding to write about what I wrote today. I guess the reason behind why it took me so long to finally talk about it is that I never thought I would ever be in this position. I grew up in a country governed by tolerance. Of course, I cannot talk on behalf of every Moroccan citizen, but in general, discrimination (except against women, and that I think is unfortunately a world problem) has never been an obstacle that anybody had to face. We are an African country where Black and White people live together, where Berbers and Arabs work together, where Muslims and Jews eat together. Millions of tourists every year come to Morocco. We welcome them in our country, sometimes in our homes… We smile at them. We cook for them and we learn from them, just as much as they learn from us. We are used to having this diversity and grew up right in the middle of it. Actually, I am proud to say that diversity is what makes Morocco what it is today, what defines it. Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to make Morocco sound like heaven on earth. We for sure have dozens of problems, if not hundreds of them. Some can easily be fixed. Others may never get fixed. However, not once have I heard somebody be a victim of racism in Morocco.

“Why would they let a terrorist come back here?” That is the sentence that a sixty year old woman said to what appeared to be her daughter, as she was looking at me, while we were all visiting the 9/11 memorial in New York. I could see horror in her eyes. Even worse, I could see fear in her daughter’s facial expression. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream as I could feel this unusual pain in my chest. I was the one horrified. I was the one terrified. How could somebody ever think of me as being a terrorist? How could anybody look at me, look at the joyful nineteen year-old that I am and feel this need inside their heart of being scared? Do I look like a terrorist? Do I really look like someone who is at all harmful? And then it all started hitting me. The times when people would squeeze as far as they could away from me in the elevators, the times when they would either hasten their steps or slacken them as much as possible in order to get as far away as humanly possible from me and as quickly as their feet allowed them to. I thought it was all in my head. I thought it was nothing worth mentioning or even thinking about. But right there, in the middle of the 9/11 memorial, right between the two huge pools that were constructed there, it was all clear. Suddenly, everything became crystal clear.

I never thought I would ever have to feel like this. I honestly thought racism is a problem of the past millennium. I would hear about it on TV or read about it in the newspapers and think: “Thank God this is over now”. Well, let me tell you it is not! I was living in a bubble, a bubble that burst right in the middle of my face. It hurts, you know. It really deeply hurts. I bet I wouldn’t even have had this problem if I was not covering my hair or even better, if I was a man. In both of these cases, nobody would even think of being racist towards me because I am just another white girl who walks the streets of the United States of America. But no! Things cannot be that easy. Hijab cannot simply be a sign that a woman really believes in her God. It must mean that she wants to blow up the entire planet! People, please wake up. Open your eyes! Just because I wear the veil does not mean I am a terrorist. Just because my friend has a beard does not mean he is an extremist. Just because we are Muslims and proud of showing it to the world does not mean we should be feared.

I am nineteen years old. I am a student from Morocco who is currently on my study abroad semester in George Washington University. I am young and ambitious. I love life and enjoy every single bit of it. There is nothing better than this feeling of “being alive” when doing things we love. In my case, I feel “complete” when I am singing or writing. These two hobbies are my soul mates. I am not different. I am not any more different than any of you guys. We all have different religions. This doesn’t make us different. It just makes us normal human beings with different beliefs. Do not hurt your brother: this is what every single religion in the world believes in. This is even what atheists believe in. So please, don’t hurt me with your words. Don’t hurt me with your actions. Don’t hurt Muslims. Don’t hurt Arabs. Don’t hurt Black people and don’t hurt and don’t hurt and don’t hurt… After all, we are all the same: we are all human beings…

“Good Job!”… Really?

AdminApril 25, 2012

By gwblogabroad

I was talking with another girl from France studying at GW this year and I realized one thing about GW, everybody is very positive about ... well, pretty much everything.

Let me give you an example. I made the terrible mistake of taking a marathon class (and I am really not an athlete). Every week, since I run much slower than the rest of the class, I lose my group (literally, I lose them). Usually when I am finally back at the gym after running 45 minutes everybody has left for about ten minutes. During the fourth class I tried to run faster and most people from my group were waiting in front of the gym when I arrived. Strangely when I joined them, one boy high-fived me saying "Good job!".

Two things about that:

1) First, he was not the instructor so I did not understand why I felt he had to encourage me.

2) I arrived 10 minutes after everybody else and I did not run as far as them (I had turned around after 20 minutes not to be too late). Not really what I would call a good job.

I realized that everybody is always very encouraging in all of my classes. Professors always say "good question" or "this is a very interesting comment". Even when I bake, the few people that are courageous enough to eat the mixture I cook seem to feel forced to say "this is absolutely delicious" when, really, "this is edible" would be enough considering how bad a cook I am.

In France, and particularly at my school, things are very different. Even when you are attending a lecture of several hundred people and the professor encourages people to ask questions, if you dare doing so to ask a question not very original, the professor might humiliate you in front of everybody answering that your question is stupid (which often leads to nobody ever daring asking a question).

Since I am used to having very tough teachers, I did not know people at GW expect as many positive remarks as negative remarks when they ask for a critique. For instance, I had to write a one-page critique for every short-story the students from my "Fiction Writing" class had written. I started writing very negative critiques until I received the critiques from the other students in my class about my own story. All were very positive with only a few criticisms. Besides, my teacher mentioned "critiques should not be all negative or mean." Oops.

Is one technique better than the other? We have a saying in France, "qui aime bien chattie bien", which basically means that you are tough with people you appreciate. I tend to be in favor of harsh criticisms because I think they made me progress more. Yet, my friend was arguing that being that negative about everything encourages self-censorship and goes against creativity. I'll let you take sides while I start packing to go back to the country with the highest percentage of people thinking the future will be worse than the present. Negativity, you said?