Small World

As the Washington Program Semester winds down, I am more pleased than ever that I decided to take advantage of this opportunity. At first, even the thought of missing a weekend in Happy Valley made me want to break down in tears. Did I really want to spend the semester working 35 hours a week, with a full course load of school work? Could I bear to miss all of the football games? What about my friends? The decision to live and work in Washington DC was not made without careful consideration. In the end, the idea of a government internship on my resume, a tight group of students with the same interests and the chance for extremely small class sizes and tight-knit student-teaching relationships won out. I applied, interviewed and was headed to the nation's capitol while my friends were en route to the number one party school in the country.

The first couple of weeks took some adjustment -- up at 7 am, out the door by 7:45, work starts at 8:30, get out around 5 and home by 5:30pm. Sound like a long day? Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't have four classes with all of the reading, research and writing assignments you might find in any other 400-level Penn State class. Work is Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. Classes are all day Thursday.

It's not all work though, I've had a lot of fun becoming friends with the 18 other people in this program, and I've enjoyed getting to know this new city. I really like working for the Environmental Protection Agency and it's refreshing to know that I'm not the only 20-year-old who is practically dependent on the 24 hour news cycle and has an almost obsessive interest in politics and government.

All of the homework, early mornings and long metro rides have been well worth the experience of being a real-life working-contributor to society -- but not just yet. I think now, more than ever, I will appreciate the next three semesters in the happiest of valleys.

- Christine O'Brien

Studying abroad is almost like starting anew. It's as if the world said to you, "Hey, remember that job you wish you took? Or that school you wish you applied to? Or that boy you crushed on for a year? Well, go for it."

A new country, new people, new food, new family, new shops, new weekends, new everything. But there's this part of you that has an undying need to stay in touch with the "real" world back home. Because, let's face it, new isn't always better. But sometimes you have to try something new to realize that.

Well after two months of new, I got a visit from two very familiar people: my mom and step-dad. As corny as it may sound, I was happy to have my best friend (aka mom) visit me. Needless to say, we fought like cats and dogs nearly the entire time. But, sometimes, that's just what we do.

I was anxious for weeks before they arrived. I wanted to show them everything about this perfect little city that I'd learned to call home. But the second I met up with them at Hotel Becquer, I became a tourist, adolescent daughter yet again. It was as if I hadn't lived here on my own for two months. And, conversely, their presence made me realize that I've actually been doing what I've been planning to do for over a year. I moved to Europe for a few months to learn Spanish.

In their eyes, I could see how much my Spanish has improved. In their eyes, I saw the city for what it was. Beautiful. Magical. Breathtaking. Relaxing. But still not home.

There's a logo that can be found all over Sevilla. Everyone's seen it, but I'd gone two months without knowing, or caring enough to ask, what it meant.

NO8DO. It's a play on words. The "8" in the middle is an image of a knot, which in Spanish, is madeja. Phonetically, no-madeja-do, is no me dejado which means "it has never left me." Sevillanos stick by the motto that their home city has never left them. Home is where the heart is, and home has never done them wrong.

And after all my travels so far, I can still say that New Jersey (yes, the armpit of America) is my home. Y nunca me dejado.

- Marilyn Perez

Chocolate, waffles and beer.

That pretty much sums up my two days spent in Ieper, Belgium. The focus of the trip, technically speaking, was visiting various World War One battlefields and memorial sites. Which would have been interesting, except given the American education system, or at least my experience with it, I've never learned much about the war. So when it's cold, windy and you can barely hear the tour guide it can be easy to lose interest.

Normally, this type of thing interests me. Those who know me know that I'm an avid watcher of the History Channel. So I was a little surprised myself when I was more interested in when I could get another Nutella smothered waffle then seeing another World War One bunker. I think it might have something to do with the fact that I've spent so much of October traveling and going on educational tours that I've finally had enough, at least for now.

I don't mean to appear callous. The overflowing support of fallen serviceman during World War I - and all wars - was not lost on me, especially so close to Armistice Day when many Europeans where a red poppy on their lapels to remember fallen soldiers. It's just without proper background knowledge of World War I it was difficult for me to share the same enthusiasm my professors did about the different sites.

- Caitlin Burnham

It's crunch time.

I've spent the last month traveling to Paris, Ireland, Scotland and Belgium. Due dates for papers and projects are creeping up, and I am reminded that this is not a three-and-a-half-month vacation. I am actually here to learn and study.

Before going abroad, everyone told me that this semester would be a piece of cake. People made it sound like the work was non-existent and that London would be a giant 24/7 playground. While I knew in the back of my mind that this couldn't possibly be true, the reality that by mid-December I have to leave with a semester of grades is becoming more and more apparent. While I still plan on going places and seeing things, my schedule is going to be much more jam-packed.

This is going to be an interesting month...

- Caitlin Burnham

I am a worrier in the worst sense of the word. In the past week, I have had minor panic attacks over:

a.) potential typos in a story I wrote for a journalism class

b.) a dream I had in which I forgot to assign a reporter to cover a fictional LGBTA event on campus

c.) the fact that I haven't been worrying enough lately

On the bright side, getting ready to go abroad has provided me with countless things to worry about. While the study abroad department has been great at sending me reminders about deadlines and final payments, once I get to France, everything is a hypothetical.

I know I'll be living in an apartment, but I don't know with whom. I have a vague idea of the courses I'll take at Université Paul Valery, but I won't schedule any of them until the first day of classes. I know that I'll eventually get a visa, but exactly when I receive it is entirely up to the French consulate in Washington.

Because I'm a reporter, and because I like talking to people instead of waiting for them to answer panic-stricken emails in pidgin French, I called the French embassy today to ask a question about my visa.

Weirdly, this freaked me out more than anything I've encountered in the study abroad process, for the sole reason that when the receptionist picked up the phone, she answered in French.

"Bonjour, Ambassade de France," she said, and just like that, my heart was in my throat.

It wasn't that I didn't know what she said, or even that I didn't know how to respond. It was that suddenly, everything about going abroad became very frighteningly real.

I've spent so much time bogged down in visa paperwork and flight options and, yes, worrying, that I seem to have missed the forest for the trees. As pathetic as it sounds, until now, I don't think I actually believed that I'll be in the south of France in two months.

I have a feeling that this it's what it's going to be like when I finally get to France -- seeing the Eiffel Tower or walking by the Mediterranean isn't going to make the reality of this semester abroad sink in. It'll be as simple as hearing a French voice on the phone.

- Aubrey Whelan

Collegian nation/world reporter Katie Sullivan (junior-journalism) will be studying abroad in Limerick, Ireland this spring. Before she leaves, she'll be blogging about the process of getting ready. -- Alex Weisler.

Making plans to study abroad can be exciting, nerve wracking and hectic, especially when it comes to housing -- not only abroad but here on the home front. Before I pack my bags and ship off to the homeland in Limerick, Ireland next semester I have to take care of subletting my two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment, and it has become the bane of my existence.

When I signed my lease for my junior year of college, I informed my roommates I planned to study abroad, and thankfully they still wanted to live with me. Sure we could easily find another roommate to take my place for the spring semester, we signed the lease.

But since the moment I penned my name on that contract, I've been running around like a madwoman, frantically searching for my replacement. Possible roommates have fallen through the cracks or backed out when their circumstances changed, leaving me and my four other roommates desperate for someone to contribute that 1/5 of our rent. I've resorted to asking random people at parties and asking friends of friends to ask their friends if anyone is looking for a place to live.

My roommates agreed to pick up the slack if we fail to find someone, but I'm left feeling guilty and nervous. What if they change their minds? What this creates more awkward and strenuous situations between roommates? Or worse... what if they do find a roommate and she turns out to be cooler and more fun than me?!

Getting housing for Limerick was a cinch -- send in the deposit and sign the form. I only wish housing in State College could be so simple.

- Katie Sullivan

Lately, I haven't been spending much time in London. In the past week and a half I've traveled to Paris, Galway and Scotland. All three were beautiful and unique, but in very different ways.

Paris is all about manmade beauty. Magnificent buildings, gothic cathedrals and the Eiffel Tower create the backdrop for walking down streets dotted with cafés and patisseries. We went to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, but getting lost inside the massive museum allowed us to see some of the lesser-known pieces of art. We toured the picturesque Montmartre, went inside the Sacré Coeur and Notre Dame, saw the Arc de Triomphe, cruised down the Seine River at night and even found time to picnic in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Paris was also about new experiences. At dinner one night I ordered a type of fish my friend recommended. Much to my surprise, when the waiter placed the dish in front of me the fish was staring back! I eventually dug in, eating around bones and carefully avoiding looking at the head. It ended up being delicious, but I don't think I will be ordering fish in France again anytime soon.

After a weekend in Paris, I returned to London just in time to study for my midterms and then jet off for my midterm break two days later. For break I traveled with some friends to Ireland and Scotland.

Galway is a charming Irish seaside town. I trekked down to the rocky shore and enjoyed the smell of salt water as the wind whipped around me. The next day my friends and I took a "leisurely stroll" (as the tour guide put it) through the burren. Burren comes from the Gaelic word "bhoireann" which means "a stony place." We hiked up a mountain dotted with very slippery limestone. The mountain belonged to an Irish family who had lived there for 200 years. Afterward, we were invited into his grandparent's house to eat his mom's homemade apple pie. It doesn't get much better than that.

The next day, after "sleeping" in the Dublin airport, we started our exploration of Scotland. We spent a day exploring Edinburgh and then spent two days on a tour of the highlands. The highlands are a very mountainous region with many "lochs" or lakes. At the end of the first day we ended at Loch Ness. The town was much smaller and emptier then I thought it would be. We could only find one restaurant open for dinner and the town didn't have cell phone reception. The next day was the real adventure, looking for Nessie out on the loch. Unfortunately, we never spotted her, but it was fun trying. The rest of the day was spent traveling back through the highlands stopping occasionally in small towns and to look at different lochs and mountain formations. We finished back in Edinburgh, ending my midterm break adventures.

- Caitlin Burnham

My friends and I figured taking the 11 p.m. bus to Madrid from Sevilla would be a good thing. We thought we'd be able to sleep most of the ride. And when we would arrive at 5 a.m., we'd chill out at a café for hours planning our perfect weekend until hostel check-in time at noon. Right? Well, not so much.

Barely any of us were able to sleep on the terribly uncomfortable bus ride. And when we finally arrived at Estación Sur, the metro wasn't even open yet. What kind of big-city metro even closes? Anyway, we finally wandered our way to the right section of Madrid and found our hostel. Just as we were putting our luggage in a locked-up room (thanks to our favorite old Italian receptionist who spoke about 15 different languages), a young man with bloody knuckles walked in with a policeman. Apparently, he just punched a Madridian who was trying to rob some French tourists directly outside our hostel. Wonderful. Just wonderful. And so we held our bags tight and wandered the streets some more in hopes that we would not be attacked by a crazy, tourist-hungry criminal.

That's just a little intro to the kind of "dangerous situations" I found myself in that weekend. One night, my friends decided it was a good idea hang out with a bohemian guy who had to be on about 10 different kinds of drugs and had the tendency of falling into people's faces while chatting it up. Another night after I came home from a nightclub, I heard someone got killed about an hour later around the corner from my hostel.

Scary stories aside (seriously), this city was absolutely grandiose. Big cities in the United States don't have the personality that cities in Europe have. How can they? European cities have been around a whole lot longer than those in the good old U S of A. In Europe, each building, each sidewalk, each statue, and each plaza tells its visitors so much history. In Madrid, you have the best of both worlds. It's perfect if you like that metropolitan feel, but it also has an overflowing dose of historical and cultural character.

Among the many tourist spots we hit (like Plaza Mayor, el Museo Nacional del Prado and el Palacio Real), we also stumbled upon a Hispanic diversity parade. The festival was yet another perfect display of Madrid's cultural potency through its proud natives, loud music, and of course, excess of passionate dancing. The city was magnificent. It was magnificent on a level that Sevilla could never compare to. Not better or worse, just a different scale. I guess I just never truly realized what a small, personable city Sevilla really is.

This being my longest weekend away from Sevilla, I was scared of how I'd feel when I returned. Would I regret my decision to study in Sevilla? Would I miss Madrid and wish I had chosen that city instead? But when the bus started rolling up to my city, I realized I was home. The view of el Rio Guadalquivir still hasn't gotten old and only seems more magical. And it seems that every beautiful, breath-taking city I visit only makes me love Sevilla even more.

- Marilyn Perez

Preparing to go abroad includes preparing for summer 2010. Summer 2010?! - you may ask. Well, here in the journalism world, internship opportunities are few and far between and between the College of Communications and The Daily Collegian's basement office on S. Burrowes St., us wannabe-reporters are printing out resumes, writing countless cover letters, picking out our best clips and frantically getting in applications by November 1.

So my plate keeps getting fuller and fuller, and I did not ask for this big of a meal. In addition to applying for journalism internships and trying to find a way to get journalism experience when I'm abroad, getting ready to jet off to Tel Aviv continues to make me nervous. Last week, I attended a mandatory pre-abroad meeting for Tel Aviv students going through Penn State. Me, my three friends and one lonely boy sat in the room with our abroad director. I guess going to Tel Aviv through Penn State isn't that common...hmm...who would've thought?

My head started to spin with all the implications and little details clearly outlined on a sassy little PowerPoint with copy-and-pasted pictures of Tel Aviv from the Internet. Thoughts include: I must put my computer on my parents' homeowners' insurance in case I fall asleep and my computer is stolen ... I must apply for a visa by appearing in person in New York City (NYC?? WHAT?? I'm from Pittsburgh! I can't get there!)...I must only pack HALF of my closet (Impossible! Feh! What about all my boots and jackets?!)...I mustn't get drunk and walk home alone (well, I knew that)...I have to figure out what classes I'm taking, talk to my adviser, and fill out course equivalency forms (Tedious!)...and I must "Have an incredible experience!" in the words of our lovely abroad adviser.

Deep breathing and panting ensues. My friends and I frantically look at each other with a "What the heck are we getting ourselves into?" expression. We scribble notes down and run out of the meeting, immediately dialing our parents. My one friend figures out she still has to pay in-state tuition while abroad, therefore losing $6,000 by going through Penn State. We panic. We try to figure it out. Then, we separate and go on studying for exams, going abroad suddenly not our main priority. We're trying to take it one day at a time, and everything will figure itself out, right? I'll let you know...in the meantime, I really should get back to applying for summer 2010 internships.

- Ashley Gold

Recently, I took a day trip with my study abroad group to Stonehenge and the town of Salisbury. Having learned about Stonehenge in nearly all of my art history classes and knowing that Windows had a wallpaper dedicated to it, I figured it had to be awesome. I mean who doesn't love mammoth, ancient rocks?

So I was a little surprised that whenever I told Londoners I was going to Stonehenge I was met with a reaction somewhere along the lines of "Why? Stonehenge sucks, don't get your hopes up too high."

But still, I was excited. Ancient people moved enormous rocks from hundreds of miles away, before the invention of the wheel, in order to create this structure. It has to be somewhat awe-inspiring, right? Turns out, not so much.

Don't get me wrong, the rocks were big and knowing the history behind Stonehenge made it a bit more interesting to me than for some of my fellow students, but really, it's just a bunch of rocks.

It may have had something to do with the fact that there was a barrier preventing people from getting too close, or maybe because I have seen so many pictures it wasn't as new and exciting as I thought it would be. It also didn't help when our tour guide told us that Stonehenge is neither the oldest nor largest structure of its kind in Britain (kind of makes you wonder why you aren't going to one of those). Still, I can say I've been there and it was a beautiful day in the British countryside.

Salisbury, on the other hand, was the epitome of a charming English town. Pubs and shops line the cobblestone streets as the smell of local bakeries fill the air.

After walking around the town we had a guided tour of Salisbury Cathedral. Salisbury Cathedral was enormous and beautiful, with a high vaulted ceiling and stained glass windows. But what really makes it special is that it's home to one of the few remaining copies of the Magna Carta. Seeing one of the oldest and most influential political documents in history was definitely the highlight of the day.

- Caitlin Burnham