Notes from Abroad
Città della Creatività
Friday, October 30, 2009
By Carrie SchoenbornGVL Study Abroad Columnist
It is often said that Florence is “where the Renaissance was born” and the city certainly lives up to this legacy. Everywhere the eye happens upon, there is an example of Renaissance artwork.
If the building you are walking past, around or through isn’t a direct result of the Renaissance, you can bet that it houses at least one example of Renaissance work.
While this is an amazing fact and a huge draw to bring people to Florence, it also raises a big question. What about contemporary artists and architects in Florence? Do they have an outlet or do they all simply create works that are reminiscent of the Italian Renaissance?
Stumbling my way through this question, I begin by asking my drawing professor if there are any contemporary art galleries in Florence. I had already been to a couple of small galleries, but both contained contemporary work by artists from other countries. Being an art professor and a studio artist working in Florence, I figure she is the one to ask.
“No, not really,” she replies in a thick Italian accent. I leave class disappointed, but still not convinced. A city can’t just stand still and constantly live in the past can it? Continuing my search for answers, I go to Casa della Creatività for the first meeting of Creative Campus, an organization that helps introduce study abroad students to local artists.
Amazing. There is a large variety of artists focusing their work on a range of mediums and topics including light, gardening, painting, film and theater. Creative Campus is embarking on a new project: they were given a space for Festival della Creatività, a festival of creativity that draws hundreds of thousands of visitors each year. This year’s theme for the festival is “Future Cities: City of the Future, Future of the City.”
I anxiously join a group that is interested in investigating contemporary architecture (or lack thereof) in the city. We begin with a tour of contemporary architecture and I soon discover that, although it is hidden in the outskirts of the town, contemporary architecture does exist in very limited quantities around Florence. I also soon receive invitations to contemporary art shows from the other members of my group.
I discover that despite the historic focus of the city, contemporary work is happening all over the city inside the Renaissance covered walls, the key is knowing where to look.
The problem is that so many visitors to Florence come BECAUSE of the Renaissance work, but it seems that many artists are working IN SPITE of it.
While viewing a Robert Mapplethorpe exhibition at La Galleria dell’Accademia (the same museum that houses the famous David by Michelangelo), I see a woman glance down the hall of Mapplethorpe photographs and say “Oh, there’s nothing in here to see,” and walk by to view another of the thousands of marble statues created by someone hundreds of years ago that she’ll never remember when she returns home.
Whether or not there is a solution to this problem remains in question, but in the meantime I have to go to an opening at EX3, the new contemporary art gallery in Florence and it will take about an hour to walk there so I better get started now.
Ciao from the American in Italy.
cschoenborn@lanthorn.com
Posted 12:10 PM
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Practical Socialism
Sunday, October 25, 2009
GVL Study Abroad Columnist
I recently had an interesting conversation in one of the student pubs on campus with a German classmate regarding social theories.
There’s a particular egalitarian idea that I found interesting to discuss which stems from utopian ideals; citizens of a given society should strive towards a common goal of social harmony and act accordingly.
Essentially, just do what’s best for the good of all. A basic concept, most people would probably agree with it, but it’s sometimes sadly absent from our actions. As we talked, I concluded this was an ideal that could be found running thick through the veins of the Norwegian social structure.
There’s a strange duality in Norway between personal sociableness and public social issues. Norwegians in general are very quiet and aren’t very sociable without a few drinks in them, but they support massive social programs through high taxation.
I can only imagine the uproar even the suggestion of imposing a 28 percent sales tax in the States would bring, but that’s what we pay here on everything but food products. (Then it’s merely 14 percent.)
Yet I haven’t heard many complaints. I’ve, in fact, met many strong supporters of the system. Norway established the underpinnings of its social democracy long ago, so its citizens understand the benefits of having large social programs.
It’s because of that understanding that the social systems work; it all relies on the adherence to their common goal of an egalitarian society, because a public backlash against the system could change things in a flash.
With such high taxes, Norway is quite an expensive place to live. Oslo is, in fact, the most expensive city to live in on Earth, so why are people content to lose so much money to taxation?
I, for one, don’t think they’re losing anything. The benefits created by public funding are incredibly valuable, more valuable to individuals than the money they contribute.
It’s astounding what benefits people receive here, from extended paid maternity leave to free higher education and excellent public transportation.
It should be noted, however, that Norway’s economy is suffused with oil exports from their lucrative reserves along the coast. I’ve heard all kinds of arguments over whether or not it’s the oil that makes Norway, and Oslo in particular, a nice place to live, and there’s no ignoring the fact that a strong export market does contribute to Norway’s impressive GDP per capita. The perpetual question on everyone’s minds is what Norway will do once the oil runs out.
In my mind, I doubt much will change. Despite having the socialist tag, which implies massive spending, the Government and Storting (executive and legislative branches, respectively) have been remarkably responsible with the surplus generated from the state oil company Statoil and saved the vast majority of it away in a reserve fund.
This means despite having a bit of extra support from exports, the social programs function primarily on regular taxes. With that being the case, I reason that so long as the populace continues to abide by their egalitarian principles, Norway will retain its social structure and remain a very pleasant place to live.
kapolkac@mail.gvsu.edu
Posted 6:37 PM
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Food fast? A phenomenon of my past
Sunday, October 18, 2009
By Samantha LemmerGVL Study Abroad Columnist
Opportunities to eat fast food, I have learned, are few and far between in Cape Coast.
Many of the meals consumed in Ghana take hours to prepare. The dish that stands out in one’s mind when asked about typical Ghanaian food is Fufu.
Fufu is a mixture of mashed plantain and cassava, pounded until reaching the texture of a somewhat stretchy version of mashed potatoes. The Fufu is served with a stew, composed of vegetables and some type of meat.
It is imperative, I have been told, for all of the newcomers to Ghana to try Fufu. Taking this challenge a bit further, I joined my friend Eugene to prepare our own batch of Fufu.
Eugene met me at my hostel, and we walked to his village, Akototyr. The walk should normally take about twenty minutes, but with all the introductions to the villagers, as well as taking time to address the children who shouted “Obruni!” (white person) my way, we managed to stretch the walk to an hour and a half!
Village life is much different from living on campus in Cape Coast. Poverty is more evident in these rural areas, and dirt floors, lack of running water and lack of electricity are the norm.
Despite these hardships, the overall attitude of the village is very positive, and the people I met on my trip to Akototyr greeted me with warm smiles and shouts of “Akwaaba!” (Welcome!)
After bargaining with the women in the market, Eugene and I gathered all of the necessary ingredients for our Fufu and stew. Cassava and plantains for the Fufu, tomatoes, garden eggs, onions, sweet potatoes, other vegetables, fish and some sort of meat I will guess was goat meat for the stew.
In order to cook the ingredients, we started a fire underneath a small charcoal burner. Due to my lack of skills of peeling vegetables without a peeler, my job was to fan the flames to keep the fire burning.
We fetched water from outside of the house, which was in a large bucket. Once the stew was well on its way to cooking and smelling great, we turned our attention to the Fufu.
The tools used to pound Fufu are the pedestal and the pounder. Pounding Fufu can be done by one person, but it is preferable to have two.
The first person turns the dough over while in a kneeling position, and the second person uses the pounder to mash the cassava and plantains. The process is long, tiring, and when it comes to beginners, dangerous!
Many times I was afraid I would smash Eugene’s fingers as he was turning over the dough! But all is well that ends well, and once we finished pounding, the stew was also ready. We sat down to indulge in the fruits of our labor.
Coming from a place in which food is available at my fingertips, a place in which I would become anxious after waiting more than four minutes in a drive-thru and a place that prides itself on food fast, pounding Fufu was an eye-opening experience.
While it was hard work to prepare the meal, it was a time in which I learned new things and bonded with a friend. Throughout the course of the day, I learned about Eugene’s family, his studies, village life and even picked up some Fanti language speaking with his grandmother.
Though it may be true fast food allows one to get their food and go, I have to wonder how much I could experience while waiting in line for four minutes or so. For now, I will stick with taking things a bit slower- "slow food," while not as catchy of a phrase, has a richer flavor and comes with extra time to let the taste linger.
Posted 6:35 PM
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Maybe I live in Europe
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
By Travis Kovaleinen
GVL Study Abroad Columnist
By definition I have been living in a European country for the last 10 months, but Iceland just doesn´t quite seem to cut it.
You see, in congruity with the fact that this little Kentucky-sized island country physically lies on both the North American and Eurasian geological plates is that its culture appears to be a striking amalgamation of both sides of the Atlantic.
I remember when I first arrived having been carrying the expectation I would easily embrace the public transit system in this “European” country.
Instead I found out most Icelanders finished with high school do their best to avoid ever stepping foot in a “strætó,” the Icelandic word for bus.
The reasoning behind this is simple: Iceland is a car country.
People show little reservation to driving everywhere and building urban-sprawl in an American way despite gasoline costing upwards of 8.00 U.S. dollars per gallon.
And Icelanders, similar to their American counterparts, like their cars big.
An invitation I received to a party several months ago was to begin in a hummer limousine, entailing much wasted gas for the purpose of frivolity.
Even after the economic crisis I still don´t go a single day without passing an uncountable number of Range and Land Rovers (the automobile of choice apparently), large jeeps and even the occasional Lincoln Navigator for good measure.
This SUV infatuation wasn´t always so visible, but with the highly inflated collective credit score of the nation, most notably in 2007, the floodgates for the fleets of luxury SUVs were agape.
In addition to the car-loving nature of the people, there are strong elements of consumerism less evident in other European countries.
Icelanders are particularly keen on new technology, home renovations and the newest clothes.
Advertisements are sleek. Trends are noted and given an Icelandic twist. Flat screen televisions and touch-screen cell phones have quickly become the norm.
When I go to the local gym I undergo a 007-like laser eye scan just to take a dip in the pool.
Credit and Debit cards are accepted everywhere, even in taxis and at the smallest kiosks in the middle of the vast and almost completely uninhabited highlands; I have never even once seen an Icelander use their ornate “krónur,” or crowns, Icelandic currency.
I am told pulling out any real money is a dead giveaway for being a tourist. Real Icelanders exclusively use plastic.
While analyzing these impressions I had of Icelandic society I decided it would be a good idea to ask some mainland Europeans their views regarding to which continent Iceland culturally belongs.
I was once laughed at for having previously considered it to be Europe.
This is all not to say this similarity between the two countries is disappointing or that it makes Iceland feel identical to the U.S.
There is still a tremendously lower crime rate, universal healthcare, nearly free university by American standards and amazing hot spring heated outdoor pools countrywide.
Politically Iceland may have recently had many right-wing elements, but they only extended to the fiscal issues; perhaps surprising to Americans, Icelanders happily elected a 66-year-old, married, lesbian prime minister in February.
But despite the cultural elements which are not very prevalent in the United States, the similarities are still so numerous that I have easily managed to feel quite comfortable.
Living in Iceland is more similar to living in Michigan than one might imagine.
Posted 9:52 PM
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Driving through Prague
Sunday, October 4, 2009
By Katie BoomsGVL Study Abroad Columnist
I did not think my first article from the Czech Republic would be about cars.
Although I grew up on the East side of Michigan and my mother worked for General Motors until the factory closed, I only cared about cars when mine stopped working.
Prague’s public transportation system is excellent, so I was shocked by how congested the streets are with private vehicles.
The network of public trams, buses, metro tunnels and trains to nearby towns is unlike anything I have seen in the United States.
Unlimited monthly passes for students are only 400 koruna, about $20, and anyone can get a single ticket for a dollar.
Besides, the cobblestone streets here are narrow, steep and angling. I would never drive on them, but Czech drivers tackle them as aggressively as all other obstacles.
The Automotive Industry Association’s annual statistics show there is one car for every two people living in Prague. They will park on curbs and stop in the middle of intersections before they give up driving.
I have learned a lot about Czechs from their love of cars.
The favoritism and corruption still entrenched in the government becomes clear when politicians use the lights on top of their cars to weasel out of traffic jams. Cars are a near-universal status symbol, and Czech vehicles show the gap between socio-economic classes that has swelled since the country embraced capitalism in 1989.
When I see a row of sleek BMWs and Audis, I know I am near Parizska Street, ritzy art galleries, Cartier and Coach. If I surface at a random metro stop and see sporty European hybrids, I know I am in a nice residential district.
Most commercial centers are overparked with cars advertising everything from pizzerias to theater. Cars get boxier and more colorful farther out of town. In industrial suburbs, people drive old vans with homemade curtains.
Cars are a symbol of freedom for Czechs, not just status. Under communist control, they were not allowed to travel without permits. They rarely splurged on cars, and if they did, there was fear their cars might be requisitioned for someone else.
Having a car means having independence, even more than for American 16-year-olds. Of course this idealizes capitalism, and a common Czech joke is they still cannot go anywhere because they work too much.
Only these proud and ironic Czechs would name one of their largest car companies Skoda, a Czech surname that means “pity.”
Prague vehicles have charm and attitude. The many antique cars, even the ‘80s Fords, add to Prague’s endearing timelessness.
Many cars are also personalized. I see a lot of the familiar elliptical stickers with place names in back windows, only they spell “CZ” for the Czech Republic instead of “GR” for Grand Rapids.
“Baby on Board” window clings are popular here, and one Toyota SUV sported a bumper decal of a baby and an American flag. Stuffed Pokemon characters, Bart Simpsons and cute animals dangle from rearview mirrors.
Prague would not be the same without the hustle and variety of its cars, even though I wish they were not in the middle of all my castle pictures.
Posted 12:51 PM
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