Submitted by Hannah Paxton on the 2016 winter session program in Leipzig, Germany sponsored by the Department of Languages, Literatures and Cultures…
During my first walking tour of Leipzig Germany, and even driving in from the very small airport, I was a little confused. The architecture wasn’t the soaring Gothic or Romantic beauty I was used to from Italy or France; there was no feeling of ancient history alive in modern times. Mostly, what I saw was square. Square facades, square windows, square roofs… Then, I remembered: Leipzig was one of the central cities of the German Democratic Republic, the GDR, and what I was seeing is the aftermath of living behind the Iron Curtain.
My tour guide, a resident of Leipzig and teacher at the InterDAF where I am learning German, discussed with us how the after-effects of communism are still being felt since the Peaceful 1989 Revolution. Soviet-era buildings lay empty, and yet with no bureaucracy to claim them, artists have moved in. This brings an exciting new flavor to the city that Stalin could never have guessed when he built the square post office that now lies empty near Augustusplatz in Leipzig’s center city. With these new artists, new young Germans and new enterprise, the East German city is coming to life, even earning a new nickname: Hypezig.
While a new era of growth and freedom has been ushered into East Germany since the fall of the Soviet Union, small vestiges of former German nationalism are creeping back into the social culture with the creation of the PEGIDA movement. PEGIDA, an incredibly long German acronym which essentially means Patriotic Europeans against the Islamification of Europe, started in nearby Dresden, Germany, but gained a fairly devoted following about a year ago, with protests reaching 10,000 people at their peak; including large demonstrations in Leipzig. This group marches in response to the refugees Chancellor Angela Merkel has allowed into the nation, a mostly popular decision, but a still criticized one by certain circles.
So from Soviet era harsh rule, to opening and Westernization, now Leipzig stands at a crossroads. Will they continue to reject the re-emergence of nationalism in Germany and counter-protest the PEGIDA movement, or will they start down a nationalistic path again? With increasing violence in Europe and the rest of the world, that question is far from answered. The entire world will be watching Germany, and Leipzig, from now on.
Submitted by Grace Coury on the 2016 winter session program in Paris, France sponsored by the Department of Fashion and Apparel Studies…
I opened the door to the smallest room I have lived in since Freshman year. I have learned that space is something valuable in Paris, a concept that is totally representative by my apartment space. In Delaware, my home at school and with my parents both have luxurious-seeming amounts of space. Here in Paris, I have a room, a small bathroom, and a tiny kitchen to call home for the next few weeks. However, the space limitations are worth this most amazing view. I am so fortunate that I get to wake up to this view every day.
Submitted by Aaron Tinkleman on the 2016 winter session program in China sponsored by the Department of Sociology and Criminal Justice...
The other day, the fifteen of us studying criminology and social control in China took a day trip to an elite party school. Not the I’m Shmacked sort of party, but the communist party. The school was China Youth University of Political Studies, which was partly a museum that we toured briefly. After our tour, we joined about twenty Chinese law undergrads and socialized for an hour or so. There was a significant language barrier between those students and us, but I had a translate app handy. There wasn’t any particular objective of the visit, other than to talk freely with the students.
I sat down and joined “Kevin,” as he told me to call him. Through Spotify (which worked for a few days, but has since been blocked), I showed him some of my favorite music – Ray Charles, Hiatus Kaiyote and others. He liked my choice, so he Shazammed and added the songs. We both had fun bonding, and I was happy to share our love of music despite our poor verbal efficacy.
Besides the music, we did attempt some conversation. I figured it’d be lame to rely on my phone too much… he wanted to practice English and I would enjoy helping him learn it. So, at some point I asked him (via the app’s Mandarin translation) why I was observing what seemed like rather disciplined, even timid emotional expression among the Chinese students (note: this is just descriptive, not exploratory, so I don’t want to try to explain deeper). His hand jerked to his forehead, brushing his hair upwards; I think that this question made him react strongly. I think he sensed that I caught on to how some students feel pressured by the rigidity of conventional academic expectations. This is my first assumption because I’ve learned in class that social control is much tighter in some ways in China than in the United States. It’s complicated. So, I can’t say much else about his reaction, but I’m curious about what he would have said had we had more time.
Submitted by Jessica Weber on the 2016 winter session program in Italy sponsored by the Department of Philosophy…
This week was our first week in Italy, and we chose to spend it in the beautiful city of Rome. So far we have seen countless staple landmarks, such as the Colosseum, Palatine Hill, the Roman Forum, the Appian Way, St. Peter’s Basilica, the Sistine Chapel, Trevi Fountain, and many more. Although we left for Italy on Sunday night, layovers and time zone changes put us here Monday afternoon, just in time to settle into our hotel before eating our first Italian meal. Being our first night in Italy, most of us chose to order pasta. With every meal, however, we have learned more about Italian culture and the importance of being aware and respectful as tourists. Although Dr. Fox mentioned that water in Italy was not free in restaurants, the addition of water to our checks made us aware of how much water we were used to putting into our bodies. Also different in Italian restaurants is the practice of tipping. In the United States, guests are expected to tip waiters for their service, but in Italy, this tip is normally already added as a service charge on the check. Sometimes, there is not a service charge included in the bill, but a tip is still usually reserved for truly outstanding service. One of the most important things we have learned is to pay attention to everything. Although we have been trying to assimilate into Italian culture, many natives can easily peg us as tourists. Several times, we have almost been overcharged. We have to be sure to count our change correctly and take note of menu prices because it is hard to tell whether cashiers are trying to take advantage of our naiveté or are making honest mistakes. Regardless, some of the restaurant staff we have encountered have welcomed us with open arms, eager to answer our questions about Italian life and teach us new Italian phrases. I cannot wait to see what the next few weeks hold. Ciao for now!
Submitted by Lisa Pham on the 2016 winter session program in Martinique sponsored by the Department of Languages, Literatures and Cultures…
On Saturday, we hiked through the beautiful La Savane Des Pétrifications in the south of Martinique. We saw cliffs overlooking the breathtaking sea and cacti lining our muddy path. Never before have I seen such diversity in nature. Since I’ve begun my studies here, I’ve noticed that Martinique, a small island territory of France, is a wonderful mixture of several types of cultures, lives and people. These aspects don’t blend in together, there’s no overpowering of one over the other; instead, they move and mingle with each other, meanwhile keeping their very distinct characteristics. That’s what I’ve discovered about Martinique: despite having had a gruesome history of slavery and oppression, it has maintained a cultural richness that’s hard to find anywhere else.
Listen to local conversations and one would hear either French or Martinican creole. Tune in on a performance or event and one would hear music from other Caribbean islands, France, and, of course, Martinique. It has, as I had just learned today, an “identité hybride” or a hybrid identity, combining French and Caribbean characteristics into one tiny island. The people here grew up in an environment that embraced all its different influences. They are incredibly welcoming of everyone, including confused American students who mercilessly butcher the French language.
Coming to Martinique from a country that calls itself the “melting pot” of the world, I’m beginning to realize that diversity comes in different forms and that “culture” is something impossible to define. And it’s not necessarily something I want to define. In the next couple of weeks, I simply want to live and experience. Eat foods, listens to people speak about their land, and buy ridiculously overpriced products imported from France. As I continue to traverse through Martinican deserts and plains, I hope to discover more about the diverse people and land of this incredible island.
Submitted by Harry Lewis on the 2016 winter session program in London, England sponsored by the Department of Sociology and Criminal Justice..
My first week in London was a whirlwind to say the least. It’s hard to believe that in a few short hours, I will have already finished a quarter of my study abroad experience. Time certainly flies when you’re having fun! Already I find myself grumbling at tourists walking in circles around the Underground as if I were a native-born Englishman. I’m proud to say I have yet to have any near misses with motor vehicles, as I think I’ve gotten the hang of looking towards oncoming traffic speeding towards you from the opposite direction. In some ways, I’ve become so much a part of the city atmosphere, the constant ebb and flow of people and traffic, that I’m slightly loathe to stop moving at all. Some nights when I finally lay down, I feel as if I’m still swinging with the motion of the Tube. Even in those brief moments when I stop to rest it’s as if I can’t shake the sense of being constantly on the go.
I don’t think that sense is a bad thing per se, but it’s definitely a change from Delaware which in comparison seems quiet. People in London know exactly where they’re going and why they’re going there which is quite a change from the often directionless walking that I’m used to back on campus. There’s no such thing as a meandering walk unless you’re in a park somewhere. Everyone has a purpose and they stop at nothing to make sure that purpose is satisfied. In a lot of ways, I find the city and I have similar personalities – constantly moving, never stopping to take a breath, but barreling onward towards the next task at hand.
It’s that sense that every moment on this program is so precious that I forget sometimes. Like everyone else on a study abroad program, I feel the pressure to pack as much into my stay here as physically possible. Even in the London rain, I’m perfectly happy to run all over the city taking in the sights, absorbing the culture, and even – dare I admit it? – trying a beef and kidney pie. But those moments where time slows to a halt are for me the most precious. Standing in the National Gallery in front of Leonardo da Vinci’s famous sketch of the Madonna with no one else around was a breathtaking experience.
Looking out over the English Channel and catching a glimpse of France from the cliffs of Dover was stunning.
I spend a lot of time with my group, and I love them dearly, but it’s these quiet moments by myself that I find to be the most poignant. It’s then that I can take a breath, step back, and let it hit me: that I am in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, that I am experiencing life in all its beauty and that I am so impossibly lucky.
Submitted by Taylor Lawrence on the 2016 winter session program in Morocco sponsored by the Department of Languages, Literatures and Cultures…
When most people hear the word “Morocco,” they don’t automatically jump to thinking of Africa, let alone Arabic; yet Morocco, as I have seen it in the past week, is a beautiful blend of European, Arab and African cultures that manifests itself in ancient winding streets and markets, an amazingly unique dialect of Arabic, delicious cuisine and some of the most hospitable people I have ever met.
My group began our journey in New York and flew to Casablanca to meet our professor at the airport which was nerve wracking in and of itself considering the airline primarily spoke Arabic and French (and some people on this trip don’t speak a lick of either language). Afterwards, we had to wind our way through customs and such by ourselves so this program has been challenging from the beginning.
Once we found our professor, we visited one of the largest mosques in Africa, Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca which was quite a site to see and immersed us in the religion from the beginning.
Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca
From then on, we would hear the beautiful call to prayer in Arabic, which woke most of us up as the mosque was directly next to our hotel in Rabat, the capital of Morocco where we spent roughly two days. I felt it was one of the most beautiful ways to wake up and it has been so amazing to hear such flawless recitation of the Quran from several different mosques around the city at one time in every city we’ve visited, something you definitely don’t hear around UD everyday. And though the thought of being surrounded by mosques, frightens many Americans (due to grossly negative stereotypes of Muslims), they are as common as churches are in the United States, so it is nothing to be phased by.
In Rabat, we visited many different historic and religious sites and ventured through the old parts of the city, admiring the architecture of the old fortress walls and ruins in Chellah. The views were amazing, but nothing so far has compared to our experiences in Tangier, our base for the next month.
I now have an amazing new family in Morocco: a host mom, dad, and three sisters in addition to my wonderful roommate, Zaina. With a homestay, the language barrier was obviously a concern of mine and it has been a bit challenging so far, but we are learning so much every day, both formal Arabic in class and the unique dialect of Moroccan Arabic that is Darija (almost a mishmash of Arabic, French, Spanish and Berber if you had to put a description on it). At times, it is tempting to use my French background to help me navigate conversations, but I am trying so hard to use Arabic when communicating with my host family even if they understand French and English for the most part. Our host dad is an Arabic/French professor at the American School in Tangier, where our program is based, so I am getting private Arabic and Darija lessons at home as well!
Our host sisters are also so willing to help with Arabic in turn for us helping them with English. But it’s not all academic—just tonight we sat around watching Tom & Jerry in Arabic and other nights we sit in our pajamas coloring in our coloring books and talking about what was on Entertainment Tonight that night in Arabic.
My most memorable experience so far was exploring the old city in Tangier with the group, but then returning to the same place later that day with my host mom. With the group, we hardly stopped to look in shops for fear of being flooded by vendors, but with our host mom we weren’t even looked at twice; and we got a whole new view of the market, getting to see all the butcher shops, bakeries and cafes where all the food we eat at home is coming from instead of being relegated to the touristy areas around the main plaza. I know we are making our friends on the trip jealous with how close we live to an amazing bakery where we get fresh croissants and jam every morning before school. During our tour of the old city, we also got to meet many new people because our host mom knows everyone around here (the community is so tightknit we couldn’t walk a block without seeing someone she knew!)
Though in theory, Moroccan culture compared to American culture is so strikingly different, I haven’t felt strange in Morocco. Albeit, some things are hard to get used to (i.e. eating dinner at almost ten at night, not being able to lay back on the couch while watching TV, taking my slippers on and off every time I want to go in my room or the sitting room, etc.) I have yet to encounter very much that won’t be eased by time.
Concerning our host family, it’s just like being at home. We all watch TV and complain about having homework and our sisters make fun of their parents like teenagers would in the States.
However, there was one thing I found so extremely different in Morocco. This past weekend in the mountain village of Akchour near Chefchaouen, “the blue city” where we stayed for the weekend, we decided to go hiking. We hiked to the Bridge of God, a natural rock bridge in the Rif Mountains, and our guide (taking pity on us) took us an easier route back down through the valley. It all sounds very normal, right? The shocking part was walking back through fields of hashish, a Moroccan hallucinogenic plant related to marijuana. Hashish is illegal in the United States, and while it is taboo here in Morocco, it’s not illegal to grow, sell and/or smoke. Strangely enough, it is a big part of the agricultural economy that brings revenue to many rural villages. It was just simply shocking being surrounded by the plants so casually when it is so frowned upon in the United States.
While it seems silly that is the most culturally shocking thing I have experienced so far, it’s true. People don’t realize that though a place like Morocco seems so foreign and removed, it is very similar to the United States in behavior, dress and culture. One other thing I will say is I have never eaten this much bread and meat in all my life! I feel very at home here and cannot wait to see what the rest of the month has in store! Tomorrow is Moroccan Independence Day, so I am excited to see what that entails. Wifi is limited, but I’ll try to update my blog as often as possible.
Submitted by Briana Lamet on the 2016 winter session program in Australia sponsored by the Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering and the Department of Mathematical Sciences…
I opted to fly to Australia without the rest of my study abroad group and arrive in Melbourne a day ahead of the professors and the majority of students. After 30+ hours of travel to get to my hotel, I was more than a little frazzled. Since my phone is new, I wasn’t able to purchase an Australian sim card to use while I am away so my access to communication is strictly WiFi-based. The hotel I was staying in for the first night here looked abandoned and had few accommodations. They did not have WiFi, they barely even had a receptionist! Immediately, I was flooded with panic. How could I rendezvous with the rest of the group in the morning if I couldn’t text them? What if I got lost and didn’t make it to the College we were supposed to be staying? Then I was flooded with regret. Why did I fly so far away from home? Why did I spend so much money to get here? What if I hate it? What if I feel this way all month? So, I wandered the inner city in search of a café that would have free WiFi so that I could text my Dad and professors about my distress, not thinking that the professors were on a plane headed in my direction and the 16-hour time difference from back home meant my Dad was likely to be asleep. A I was walking around downtown Melbourne, I told myself it looked similar to downtown Philly or New York City, except a lot cleaner with a lot more interesting architecture. I found WiFi, mapped the morning’s rendezvous location in my phone, and went back to the dodgy hotel to try to sleep off all my anxiety.
In the morning, I was able to get in contact with the group and was finally moved into the dorm room that would be my home for the next month. The accommodations in the dorms were so much nicer than anything I was expecting that my worries started to melt away. Immediately, I found a couple of friends in the study abroad group to be my adventure buddies and we haven’t spent an idle minute in the city since. We are always looking for things to do and to see so that we can soak up as much of Melbourne as we can before heading back to “The States” (what the Aussies call the U.S.). I am now having such an amazing time exploring that I feel silly for having so many doubts in the first place. I guess that just goes to show you how much of a difference traveling with friends and being brave enough to explore can make.
Submitted by Ioana Andritoiu on the 2016 winter session program in Thailand and Laos sponsored by the Department of Leadership…
After two hard days of travel our group of twenty finally made it to Laos. How would I describe Laos? Cute and quaint surrounded by green mountains and the Mekong River. The people are friendly and always smiling; ready to give you a helping hand. Tuktuk drivers are always ready to guide you regardless of whether or not you want a ride. It is a slow country… Days last forever (in the best way possible). It is almost a whole different world. The daily night markets are the main attraction of the town and over the years these markets have attracted tourists from all over the world. I have never felt safer than in Laos. The food is phenomenal however very spicy. Although this country is generally viewed as poorer and less developed, the companionship people show towards each other is incredible. They do not fight each other for customers in fact, they applaud each other when they make sales. I have never seen such a harmonious relationship in any country.
Submitted by Teresa Dozier on the 2016 winter session program in New Zealand sponsored by the Department of Animal and Food Sciences…
One thing that I’ve always known about myself is that I am not a very athletic person. Although I played recreational soccer for about ten years, I was never the best on the team and certainly not the fastest. When I learned that I was accepted to this winter study abroad session in New Zealand, I knew that there would be hiking involved, but I didn’t really think about whether or not I would be able to do it.
On our first free afternoon, all of the students on the program decided to go to Diamond Harbour. Diamond Harbour has a small stone beach, but it also has several hiking trails, and many people planned on hiking them. Despite my lack of athleticism, I had wanted to go, partially because so many other people were going and partially because hiking sounded like fun at the time.
I definitely did enjoy my hike around Diamond Harbour, but I can’t exactly say that it was fun. I first encountered difficulty on the way to the start of the trail, since it started right away with a fairly steep incline. As someone who doesn’t exercise as regularly as I should, having difficulty before the trail even began was definitely a wake-up call. Little did I know that I would soon be traveling up an even steeper incline.
A few minutes into our hike, our fairly large group split off into smaller ones as people stopped for a bit while the rest of the group continued moving. By the time we decided to move forward, we had lost our group and so we forged our own path. After getting lost and wandering a little bit off the well-worn path, we found a path that seemed to lead down to the beach. At first the path was fairly easy, despite the steep drop I could feel my legs straining against. However, we soon came across a fallen tree in the path and that was about the time the hiking became difficult. We could see a path leading downwards, but it was not exactly what I would call a trail. The sharp descent was made even more difficult by the loamy soil that slid out from beneath my feet. Luckily, there were a few trees nearby to hold on to for balance.
Once we finally made it down to the beach, we decided to keep going rather than join the people already in the water. Since we were pretty sure that we didn’t want to return from where we came, we took a small path that led upwards from the beach. Unfortunately, that trail really did go upwards and there were certainly a few places where I thought I wasn’t going to make it. Still the view from the top was definitely worth it, and even the few pictures I managed to snap on the ascent were so beautiful that it certainly made up for the effort it took to get there.
