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By gwblogabroad

$300… That is the exact amount of money that I had in my pocket when I went to do my groceries the first day I came to the US. After getting everything that I needed, I was happy. I had done all my calculations. I bought the cheapest articles (but still good quality ones) and I was certain that I had to pay $292.69. This was perfect. I already had my metro ticket so paying the invoice amount was the only thing left. The best part was that I would still have a few dollars left, you know just in case…

$310.25… This is the amount of money that I ended up paying at the register. It would be legitimate of you to just assume that I forgot to include a couple of items’ price when I did my calculations. Well, I didn’t. You could say then that I simply am terrible in math. Well, that is not completely untrue but I swear I used my phone’s calculator when computing my expected invoice amount. So, what could be then? If you have shopped at least once in the US, you might already have guessed what happened by now, but for those who are still struggling to understand how something like this could have happen, let me tell you something. In the United States of America, the price does NOT include taxes. Not only prices are ridiculously high, but these same ridiculously high prices will even grow higher once the tax is included. You may think I am the one who is being ridiculous by making a big deal out of such a trivial thing. But, what if I told you that the most expensive bottle of water (1.5L) in Morocco costs 50 cents? What if I told you that the most delicious burger’s price cannot exceed $3? What if I told you that an hour cab ride from a city to another (60 Km of distance) costs $2.5? Do you still think that I am making a big deal out of trivial little things?

Life is… expensive. This is the biggest culture shock that I’ve experienced since I came to DC. Speaking English every day and being with people from a completely different culture (or should I say from a completely different world) were not a shock for me. I was prepared for it. However, I was not prepared for giving up drinking bottled water. Food is expensive, transportation is expensive…but oddly enough, clothes and shoes are cheap. What a paradox! How can someone afford to buy cheap clothes when the most necessary thing, food, is too expensive? The metro is supposed to be the cheapest mean of transportation. I had to pay $5 for a 5min ride between two close neighborhoods. How is that cheap? I can pay half the price to travel from a city to another in Morocco!

So, to sum up, not only life here is unbelievably expensive, but cashiers love it when they see your face right after realizing that you don’t have enough cash on you to pay the bill because you did not include the tax! The most logical explanation (for me) to this “do not include tax” phenomenon would be that Americans know how much things are expensive in here, so they don’t want to scare you off by showing you even higher prices by including the taxes. Actually, there is also a more logical explanation which involves talking about the laws of the United States of America but I really would have no idea about what I’m getting into.

Now, if you are still wondering how I made it out of the supermarket with all my most needed purchases, stop wondering. I did not pay $310 simply because I didn’t have that kind of cash on me. I was $10 short so I had to give up buying a pan and a couple packages of noodles. Giving up those items dragged the total amount of the bill down. I walked out of that store with a dollar and a few cents in my pocket, hoping that the “just in case” scenario that I was talking about earlier does not happen…

By gwblogabroad

China, Japan, Singapore, France and Taiwan are all countries that I had the chance to briefly visit this last week without even physically going there. I met people from all over the world, with so many different cultures and personalities. This is the reason that brought me here at the first place and I am glad to see that it is also the reason that brought many of the other exchange students. Last week, I kept going on and on about how this place is depressing when it is empty. Well, when it is full of people, it becomes a place when dreams might come true.

Now that I am not alone anymore, everything just seems brighter. Who knew that buying a prepaid phone card could be fun? It is not what I am doing here that makes this experience unique but the people that I am sharing those moments with. Taking the metro for the first time is supposed to be scary. For us, it was just fun! We knew that nothing could happen to us as long as we just stick to each other. Ice skating on the other hand was a complete new territory for me, and what was supposed to be a disaster became one of the best memories that I have. Why? Simply because not for a single second I was alone. There was always someone next to me grabbing my hand, keeping me from falling or helping me up without making a fool of myself. Are those people childhood friends? No. However, I know I can count on them. They are living the exact same experience that I am and they can feel how much sharing with one another is what makes this adventure an amazing one.

Does this mean that I don’t miss home anymore? Of course not! However, it means that I don’t want to leave this place without making the most out of this experience. Every day, I discover a new thing and step by step, DC becomes less of a mystery. I will never “fully” know DC, but when I will become familiar with most of it, I will be able to finally say that I am ready to go back home. The unknown must become known and I need to be brave enough to go beyond my limits and do what I have never been able to do out of fear.

A week ago, I was afraid of going to sleep because I was cold, alone and completely terrified. Today, going to bed has become one of my favorite parts of the day. The coziness of the bed, the warmth of my blanket and the comfort of my pillow are things that I look forward to meeting again after a long day of shopping and touring. I start thinking of the room that am currently occupying as “mine”, and not just some random room on George Washington University’s campus. I am starting to get used to my new habits and this means that I am not scared anymore. Having something constant in my life that I can rely on is what keeps me from losing my mind. In Washington DC, I am lucky enough to have two things that are constant: my room and my incredible new friends.

I don’t quite know how life at GWU is going to become once the courses will begin. Does it scare me? Yes! Does it terrify me? Absolutely not: I have my constants in my life that will always keep me balanced. Going to classes is also a new experience that we will get to share with one another and I can’t wait to start complaining about a crazy professor, a lazy teammate or talking about how great the new course that I added is. Then, waking up each morning to go to class will become a constant and new things, unknown scary things, will start popping up. All I will have left to do is deal with them one at a time. This is the beauty of life: you don’t have time to get bored. Having particular habits have a tendency to be reassuring; but when we decide to stick with the reassuring part of life, we end up missing out on the exciting one, the one that is the main ingredient for great memories...

By gwblogabroad

Americans love hidden costs

I’m sitting at the Denver airport writing this and looking back at the week of skiing I’ve enjoyed in Colorado, one thing is blatantly clear. Americans absolutely love hidden cost. I already suspected that this was the case, but only through my travels has it become this obvious.

In Iceland we don’t tip. It’s not because we are mean, vengeful people that take pleasure in the troubles of the underpaid working class (we do, of course, but for different reasons). No, in Iceland we actually just have the decency to pay employees appropriately so there’s no need for tipping. This means that going to a restaurant or whatever is a fantastically annoying experience for me. Especially since I’m usually going with people that each pay for themselves, so we invariably encounter problems when calculating each part in the sum.

Knowing that this is a school blog I’ll have to contain my vocabulary for this one, but it is absolutely unfathomably stupid that prices everywhere do not include tax. See, legislation should eventually benefit the buyer, not the corporate hell-machine. Now if we step back a bit and try to view this with unbiased eyes, who does this system really benefit? Is the buyer encouraged to spend less? No, of course not! It’s just yet another way of robbing buyers of their hard earned cash through the sleazy tactics of modern commercialism.

These are the basics but it certainly doesn’t stop there. Upon renting a car here in Colorado we were told we had to pay 200$ extra because we were under the age of 25. Now, I’m sure some of you are thinking that this is just common sense but I assure you, it’s not. Neither of us had ever rented a car and we’ve grown up in a country where posted prices are final. If some company had done this to me in Iceland, believe me, all hell would have broken loose. I actually checked the fine print when I rented the car and not once did it warn us of this ludicrous addition to the price, in fact we first heard of it when we were in the office of the car rental in Denver, Colorado. At that point there’s nothing to do, really, but suck it up and pay the 200$. The whole trip was basically a continuous string of these incidents. The lesson learned here is that I was naïve. Naïve to believe people wouldn’t screw me over. I know better now.

It‘s okay to talk smack about other companies in advertisements

I don’t really watch television so I don’t really care about this at all. Having spent a week in a hotel with a certified TV-addict, though, I saw my share of commercials and one thing surprised me. First of all the commercials could all be put into four different categories; diet and weight loss, drugs, taxes and erectile dysfunction.  I’m not sure what this says about the US nation, and I’m certainly not one to pass judgment. What did stick out though was that companies here see no problem in directly attacking the products of other companies; “I was taking this drug, but it doesn’t actually work so I switched to this drug and now I’m feeling great!” Again, not something that bothers me, it’s just weird for me because this is something that’s forbidden by law in Iceland.

Americans are unable to safely operate umbrellas

I’ve travelled quite a bit through the years and surprisingly enough, many of the places I’ve visited also have weather. This means that from time to time I’ve seen people whip out their umbrellas. Personally I don’t mind getting wet but I can certainly sympathize with those who want to keep dry. That is, if they know how to keep their damn umbrella out of my face. From London to Berlin, Copenhagen to Valencia, even in Reykjavik people know how to keep to the side, lift the umbrella when passing people and tilt it when meeting another umbrella-enthusiast. It’s a system that works, everyone is happy. In America this is not the case. It’s as if people view it as their God-given mission to take up as much space as physically possible with their umbrella. Walking in the middle of the street, pointy metal spikes in eyelevel, making sure to direct the raindrops at everyone around, it’s all cool. I’m not entirely sure what the cause of this reckless behavior is, but if Dr. Sigmund Freud has taught me anything it’s most likely penis envy. It’s always penis envy.

Everyone is caring (but most don‘t care)

This one is a bit different because it’s not really hurting anyone, it’s just a weird cultural tic. Whenever getting into a grocery store or a taxi or just about anywhere you’re always greeted with a “hi, how are you?” or something similar. Everyone seems so nice, all the foreigners notice it. The truth, though, is that no one actually cares about the answer. If I told my taxi driver that I wasn’t feeling to well he couldn’t care less. To my analytical European mind this seems redundant. I’m used to people asking me how I feel when they actually care about the answer. Having to reciprocate with this pseudo-courteousness all the time just feels weird and fake.

American plugs are not like European plugs

I knew this one but it still managed to sneak up on me. When preparing for arrival in the US I thought I had taken care of every detail, and yet when I finally got to my dorm room I came to the grim conclusion that I had forgotten to buy an adapter. My first night was spent in a dark room, staring blankly at the barren wall in front of me, with my plethora of dead electrical gadgets lying tauntingly in front of me. After frustratingly staring at my laptop for a couple of hours I realized that I was hungry as all hell, having been kept alive during the day only by the occasional, stale airport sandwich. I decided to venture outside but not knowing where to go to find food at 10:30 PM I ended up walking in circles. You know how people in snowstorms end up walking in circles when they’re lost, because one foot is stronger than the other? It was exactly like that, except not at all. Eventually I did find a 7-11 (ironically positioned very close to my dorm but not close at all to the circular path I had been pacing) and bought another stale sandwich.

Americans only know one thing about Iceland

As much as I try to convince myself that my English is infallible, people eventually pick up on my accent and ask me where I come from. When I tell them I’m Icelandic they invariably get overly enthusiastic and proceed to tell me the only thing they know about Iceland. The American school system is incredibly efficient in teaching students that The US of A is (obviously) the center of the Universe, but literally the only thing they tell students about Iceland, it seems, is the following: “Iceland is in fact green, whereas Greenland is actually icy. End of lesson.” In my mind this lesson is promptly followed by a timid girl in the back of the class going “U – S – A, USA, USA…” which then breaks out into a full blown, school wide, roaring USA-chant. I could be wrong though.

Everyone loves my name

Americans have a hard time pronouncing my name, which is entirely understandable. There are some weird letters in there, accent marks and other incomprehensible stuff. The sounds required to correctly pronounce my name is just not within the average oral capacity of Americans, so I just gave up on trying. Now whenever someone asks me for my name at Starbucks or whatever, I just tell them my name is Thor. It’s true enough. My name, Arnþór, literally means Eagle-Thor, so my roommates just started calling me Thor.

The love it! “Wow, dude, is your name seriously Thor? That’s so awesome, man. You’ve got the beard going and all!” That’s the typical reaction. I’m certainly not complaining about this one.

By gwblogabroad

In our first semester hosting this blog, we had so many great applicants that we couldn't choose only one! I am excited to hear what these three have to say about their time at GW.  Click on each of their names to find out more about them!

Salma: Spring student from Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane, Morocco

Cecile: Academic Year student from Sciences Po in Paris, France

Arnthor: Academic Year student from University of Iceland in Reykjavik, Iceland

By gwblogabroad

Nineteen years old… I thought reaching that age would make me an adult. Actually, I thought being eighteen would magically transform the little girl that I thought I was into the responsible and independent woman that I have always aspired to be. Well, it didn’t. These are just numbers; numbers that help us cope with the harsh reality we live in. We think we want to become independent and stop relying on our parents. The truth is nobody wants to have such heavy responsibilities as our parents’. At least, I know I don’t, not right now. My name is Salma, I am nineteen and I cried like a baby when I realized I was all alone in the United States of America.

I am an exchange student coming from Morocco. I know what I’m about to say might sound cliché but it really is a beautiful country that deserves to be visited. Anyway, one of the nice characteristics of Morocco is that everybody cares about each other. There are no such things as special houses for elderly people because Moroccans care too much about their parents to put them in houses where they won’t be able to see them every day. Also, there is no such rule as “leaving the house as soon as we turn eighteen” because parents could not possibly get through life without seeing their children every single day. So, I hope that you understand now why coming to George Washington University was both the best decision I took so far, but also the most heartbreaking one.

The main reason that drove me to make that decision was the chance to meet new people from so many different places. This is still the main reason why I am not depressed right now. I am sitting in this big empty room (where I can’t even manage to turn the heat on!) and the only thing that keeps me from bursting into tears is the hope of seeing this place full of people. I don’t mind whether they are happy or sad, angry or joyful. All I want is to feel that I am not alone, and I think I came to the right place for this. However, since I am a very sociable person, it is hard for me, right now, to look at my situation from a different perspective, a more cheerful angle. I knew the first days would be hard, so I like thinking that I was prepared enough for this. The truth is, you can never expect how great and hard this experience is at the same time. I am afraid, I admit it, but only because this is all new to me and not because I regret coming here. I would make that same decision over and over again despite my fear because I know it will disappear soon enough.

My name is Salma, I am nineteen and I am done crying! Of course I miss my family and friends. So what? I mean, it’s not like crying is going to make me see them any time sooner. I want to enjoy every single moment of my time here. I know nothing here so of course the unknown is scary, but I hope it soon won’t be unknown anymore. Actually, I went by myself today to buy different things from various stores. So, I can proudly say that today, everything seems less unknown and scary than yesterday. I managed to keep a composed face when I got lost even if deep inside I was totally panicked. Can you see how this amazing experience is already performing miracles on the usually impatient person that I am? Anyway, I want to visit the city, the country… everything. I want to share new experiences with new friends with whom I won’t lose contact when I come back to Morocco. I want to keep speaking English until it becomes as fluent as my Arabic or French. I want to learn new languages, new habits and discover new cultures to better understand them. I want to become this independent and strong woman that I have always aspired to be, and I think coming to GWU is a great first step towards achieving this goal.

By gwblogabroad

I know what you’re thinking; “who does this guy think he is, doesn’t he know blogs are like sooo 2008?” But here’s a truth bomb for you, I’m bringing it back. All the cool kids are doing it, it’s literally all the rage. All of it. As with any autobiographic literature, however, it is proper to start with an introduction of the author, so here’s first order of business.

I’m Arnþór, but if you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around those letters feel free to call me Thor. I am 21 years old, Icelandic and bearded. I study Industrial Engineering at my home institution, the University of Iceland and I am incredibly lucky to be able to study abroad for the full academic year at GWU.

I’m writing this sitting next to a fireplace in a wooden hut in the Colorado Mountains where I’m on a weeklong skiing trip with a friend from Iceland, who incidentally is studying abroad in San Diego. This, really, is a great example of why I chose to study abroad. I think most of us foreign exchange students basically share the same philosophy on life in this regard. We’re not here for the classroom but rather the adventure of it all. Being able to meet new people and make new friends, visit exciting places and experience new adventures as often as we can. I routinely encourage all of my friends to do this because now, for most of us, is the perfect time and age to experience something like this.

Back to business; I was born in Iceland but moved within a few months to Denmark where I spent the first 10 years of my life (if any of you speak Danish, feel free to say “hej, hvordan går det?”, I need the practice). I love movies, music, photography and a whole host of other totally cool stuff. I also love astronomy, physics and anything with Sir David Attenborough in it. Also, if someone made a movie about my life I would like Philip Seymour Hoffman to play me, although we’d have to implement a plot-twist of epic proportions to explain the age difference.

For the sake of introduction I should also note that I’m an Atheist, bisexual and politically nonchalant although strongly opinionated. Basically I’m the opposite of the stereotypical foreign image of Americans. I am incredibly stubborn and highly reluctant to admit defeat or worst of all; that I’m wrong. That being said, I do really enjoy debating heated topics so by all means engage in conversation with me if you meet me at a party or whatnot.

Describing someone adequately in 500 words is somewhat of a challenge, so naturally I’m leaving a lot out. If anyone reading this would like to know more feel free to say hi, making new friends is always fun. If you could use someone to join to go see a movie, a concert or pretty much anything fun, I’m most likely your man.

Queue slow strings while I wave goodbye in ultra-widescreen B&W slow motion, fading to black, my figure disappearing into the distance.

FIN.

By gwblogabroad

If someone asked me to introduce myself five months ago I would have said that I was a young socialist and aspiring journalist. After spending a certain amount of time in the United States, I would add that I am French. As a matter of fact, more than making me American, moving to Washington DC made me French. It is really hard to admit for someone like me who was scandalized by our President’s debate on French identity and who claimed to be a citizen of the world. Yet, last November, after spending around three months at GW, I started to miss French brioche and baguette and I still couldn’t understand why Americans were against universal health care.

To make it simple:

I am a socialist, which means that I support the Occupy movement, I am progressive, I read Marx and grew up in a city that used to be communist. I don’t know the French anthem but I know the Internationale by heart.

I want to be a journalist, which means that I always carry my camera with me, that I am writing all the time and that I have a photo of Bob Woodward above my desk at home.

I live in City Hall, which means that I can certify that it looks like the hotel in The Shining and that I have been locked out my room several times since the beginning of the year. I am also the one who plays ukulele at 2:00 AM (sorry).

I am French, which means that I complain all the time (about food, about advertising, about drivers…), that I always blame others when I make a mistake, that I love sarcasm and that I already knew who Marion Cotillard was ten years ago. Yet, I don’t drink wine and I don’t like cheese, which doesn’t mean that I was adopted.

I am European… which means that I am soon going to be in serious financial difficulties.

Otherwise there is really not much to say except that I am not a good cook, nor a good musician, nor an athlete…

And that I will be blogging about all this during spring semester.

By gwblogabroad

Welcome to our blog that we've created to share the experiences of some of our inbound exchange students. This blog has that fresh new blog smell. As we move forward with this new venture, we hope to share more from our bloggers about the trials and tribulations of being an exchange student at GW.

Though this blog is administered by the Office for Study Abroad, the submissions are entirely of the authors own work and opinions.

Stay tuned for more Postcards from DC!