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Notes from Abroad

Where voting isn't 'cool'

Sunday, January 31, 2010

By Lyssa Auton

GVL Study Abroad Columnist


When I’m 30 and have to take medication for high blood pressure, I’ll blame politics.

As a United States citizen, I treasure my constitutional rights; namely, my freedom of speech and my right to vote.

However, just because I have the right to speak freely doesn’t mean anyone listens. Our government is a brick wall that I’ve talked to more than once. Nevertheless, I take pride in the fact that I have a say in who becomes the next president of the United States.

In terms of politics, I couldn’t have chosen a better time to study in Santiago, Chile: Election year!

I arrived incredibly excited to take part in the culture that surrounds the election of a president, and though I would not be able to vote, I looked forward to my participation in such matters.

On top of the normal excitement of a presidential election, this year was different for two principal reasons.

First, Chilean elections are typically held in December; however, the results from the initial election were too close to call and a run-off between the two candidates with the highest percentage of votes was called.

Secondly, this was the first time a right-winged candidate had a chance of winning since the end of the Pinochet dictatorship in 1990. Both factors made for an interesting race.

Having recently participated in the ground-breaking election of President Obama, I was curious to hear how the Chileans were feeling about their own unusual election.

What I heard did not surprise me. The majority of the youth were very passionate about the left-winged candidate Eduardo Frei. Many of the older generation feared the success of the right-winged candidate Sebastian Piñera, as he symbolized the atrocities they faced under the dictatorship. This I expected, what followed, I did not.

On January 17, 2010, only 7,186,344 out of almost 17 million Chilean citizens voted. Even worse, it is reported that only 9.2 percent of 18-29 year olds are even registered to vote.

Complacency is a strange thing. It’s a trait that I often attributed to North Americans in the past. We’re all guilty of it; talking the talk but not walking the walk.

I know few young U.S. citizens who were indifferent about the 2008 election and opted not to vote. For this younger generation, not voting was not “cool.” With celebrity-endorsed campaign messages such as P. Diddy’s “Vote or Die,” young people felt empowered to take a stand. Both parties were enthused. And we voted. For once, I’d say we got it right.

So, with such an important election, why did so many Chileans choose not to vote? It’s possible that the cultural “coolness” that drove our 2008 presidential election didn’t translate.

Another explanation may be a less efficient voting system. And yet another, that Chile is a country recovering from a staggering dictatorship that sucked out the confidence it takes to stand up for what you believe in. But your guess is as good as mine.

And for those of you that hate an open ending? Sebastian Piñera won with 51.61 percent of the vote. I have yet to meet someone who’s happy about this.

Posted 7:08 PM 0 Comments


A walk through the park

Sunday, January 24, 2010

By Dayna Barber
GVL Study Abroad Columnist

The last moments of my time in Hungary are growing near. After I am gone, I wonder what stark and prevailing images will remain in my mind of this small, Central European country.

From my very first moments here, during the summer when I was plunged into a pool of culture so unlike what I had expected, still to this day I have not fully recovered my breath but have learned to live with smaller inhales.

Life is a process in Hungary, an ongoing one, constantly transforming to the rhythm of modernization and liberalization in order to cast away the remaining shards of communist influence and catch up with those countries of the West.

The history of this country is long and not easily recounted. Foreign occupations and wars have traversed this land for centuries and the wounds are deep and fresh. Not merely 20 years ago, the Soviets withdrew from Hungary taking with them their totalitarian regime, but their presence remains in the cities and country side.

When you take the road north to Tokaj, the famous wine region of Hungary, one can see an old soviet tank perched eerily on the side of the road. In Budapest, some buildings still bear the scars from Soviet guns whose bullets pierced through the concrete.

In fact, the campus on which I study use to be a Soviet barracks, and it is almost inconceivable for me to imagine Soviet soldiers walking through these halls with their voices echoing off the tall, vaulted ceilings.

However, despite the prominent affect these features may have on one's mind, the most memorable attributes are the ones I see every day that appeared unsettling at first, but became oddly beautiful to me.

When walking along the lengths of the narrow streets, gaze upon the walls that accompany them. Many of the fences are topped with barbwire that were constructed by the Soviets during the occupation, and are now being shrouded by creeping vines trying to cover the past. Flowers blossom on these vines and it looks so strange in comparison, beautiful flowers laced with barbwire. The brick walls are crumbling but painted with massive portraits of graffiti, rebellious pictures and names scribbled haphazardly, as if in retaliation against the wall, marking their territory and reclaiming what is theirs.

The great forest, or park rather, that I walk through every day on my way to class holds such lovely scenery, but is slightly tainted by a haunted beauty. The park holds little surprises nestled in corners of overgrowth and shadow which conceal old monuments of people lost to the Soviets or the Nazis.

But they are forgotten, or at least they seem to be, hidden away from view in the depths of the park. Strange that on the main paths of the park, I see women and children playing gently, couples holding hands and people on their way to somewhere important.

But when you look off the main path, you see the elderly, walking slowly with hands clasped behind their backs, and you know that they have visited those old, hidden monuments to look upon the faces of a past hidden from sight and mind, but not forgotten.

These sights and sensations will be most memorable because they penetrated my heart with their sadness and will remain there because of their severe beauty.

Posted 6:04 PM 0 Comments


Farewell concert

Sunday, December 13, 2009


By Katie Booms

GVL Study Abroad Columnist

We were assigned a rock concert for homework, but we could not get tickets. Czech politicians had bought them all.

The National Theater is iconic to Prague. It was built to construct national identity, with money raised by average Czechs. Now the theater houses prestigious drama, opera and ballet. This week, it also hosted an old dissident rock band.

The Czech band The Plastic People of the Universe are most famous for being persecuted. During the restrictive era of 1970s Communism, they became a huge symbol of rebellion. Soon the band could only play in borrowed houses in the country. When the police found those houses, they burned them. Most of the band ended up in jail.

Needless to say, it was hard to imagine these old rockers on a stage with velvet curtains and gold neo-Renaissance architecture. Their music is anything but prestigious.

The night became stranger when my professor had to call the band’s drummer and sneak us through the back of the building.

Maybe I should have been less surprised that the Czech government had reserved the National Theater for the short Plastic People concert and the Tom Stoppard play "Rock n roll." In honor of the 20th anniversary of the Berlin Wall’s collapse this November, it seems as though every event in Central Europe has turned into a celebration of political freedom.

I was not prepared for suits and champagne. In turn, the politicians looked like they were not prepared for straggly beards and amplifiers. Most of them waited in the lobby until the band left and the play started. Several people who sat down put their fingers in their ears.

My classmates lined up in the aisles near the stage. We stood out because of our bookbags. We were also the only ones clapping.

The music was pretty terrible. But, it was loud and full of energy. It also felt like a historical moment. The band was straight out of the documentary we had watched in class. Only, they had more wrinkles and they were not treated as heroes.

Afterward, we met the bassist and saxophonist in the private bar for performers. They went through bad Czech wine and told us they did not want to talk about politics. Then we talked about politics.

I will be home in less than a week. I still do not know how to describe Prague, but this will be one of the stories I tell. Prague is a rare place where history and the present interact. It is a place where I am hardly surprised to find old heroes in the back of a smoky bar.

Posted 7:53 PM 0 Comments


Don't talk to strangers!

Sunday, December 6, 2009


By Carrie Schoenborn
GVL Study Abroad Columnist

Ever since I was a mere child, I have always been warned against talking to strangers. This admonition has followed me into adulthood and even today it takes great courage for me to walk up to someone I don’t know and begin a conversation.

Whether one calls this fear or shyness, it is a problem that must be overcome when one studies in a foreign country.

Everyone finds a different solution to this dilemma and each has its own results. They may talk to people that are most like them and, therefore, gain friends that are tourists similar to themselves. They may meet one person and use that friendship to meet more people. Each method has its own drawbacks and benefits.

Many people who live in Florence have told me, "Florence really is a small city," referring to the fact that once you know enough people, you will always run into people you know around the city.

I wanted to find a way to get over my shyness in order to meet enough people that I would feel the “smallness” of the city Florentines feel.

Soon the perfect opportunity presented itself in the one form that I am most comfortable with: art. I am taking Introduction to Digital Photography and our latest assignment: take pictures of strangers. CLOSE UP.

With my little point-and-shoot camera, zooming in isn’t a feasible option so I will need to get close to people. There is no pretending to take a picture of something else while actually taking a picture of the subject.

I begin by learning a key phrase in Italian; “Posso fare una foto per scuola?” (Can I take a picture for school?)

Then the search begins. Wandering the streets of Florence, I scope out potential victims and shyly make my first attempt.

How harmful can it be to ask three little old ladies if I can take their picture?

I approach them and, surprisingly, they say yes. When I begin to move in close, however, the first woman becomes very upset and almost begins to cry!

I am determined not to let this stop me and continue to seek out people. I soon discover that with a few exceptions, most people are completely willing to allow me to take their photo, even if the camera is being held mere inches away from their face. Many even say thank you when I am done.

Since this discovery, I have taken dozens of pictures of people on the street and, consequently, have come to realize how small Florence really is.

I continue to run into several people who I have photographed. Some recognize me and some don’t, but just being able to walk around the city and recognize faces makes it feel less like a tourist attraction and more like home. (And I got some amazing photos!)

Ciao from the American in Italy.

Posted 2:42 PM 0 Comments


Academic responsibility

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

By Corey Kapolka
GVL Study Abroad Columnist

Months ago, as I learned my way around campus during my first week here in Oslo, I met a witty Norwegian graduate student named Milo.

He gave me a thorough introduction to how things worked at the university, though I didn’t quite take him seriously when he described how the semester would progress. As finals now bear down upon us, I can see that he was quite right, and I find myself regretting not listening to Milo’s advice a bit more intently.

The University of Oslo has a policy of "personal responsibility" that reaches into many of its students’ lives. This forces students to take their education into their own hands, which certainly seems like a good thing.

It also, however, includes an unfortunate lack of lecture hours and quality lecturers, which means most of what students learn in a class comes in the libraries.

There are also incredibly few assignments during the semester and, aside from classes with midterms, I have heard of none that actually count toward the final grade. (These are pass/fail and required to sit for the exam.)

Grades are usually exclusively assigned by how one performs on the final exam and/or project, which puts an incredible amount of pressure on the students for the final few weeks of classes.

Because of a lack of graded content to provide motivation (in concert with the unfortunate lack of good lectures), students largely don’t bother studying throughout the semester unless they have personal interest in the subject material.

This creates a massive cramming period during the few weeks before finals begin that is plainly evident on campus. Formerly sparsely populated libraries are now bursting with people, and instead of hopping among a plurality of parties on weekends, it seems that everyone has suddenly adopted hermitic lifestyles.

This behavior can be somewhat evident at GVSU, but not nearly to the extent that I have seen in Oslo. The stark contrast between lazy lecture attendance and feverish text reading is astounding.

I may simply be ignorant to how major research universities work because I’m only really familiar with the teaching style at GVSU.

Perhaps the fact that I am so used to our typical class demands and access to helpful professors means I’m unsuited for UiO’s brand of "personal responsibility."

But frankly, I don’t find this pattern of academic acedia with a tail end of library bingeing to be conducive at all to good learning. It seems content to assume students are educating themselves with the ample free time it affords them, and indeed some do.

I, however, would take a quality instructor over a book any day.

Posted 9:30 PM 0 Comments


Realizing Reality

Sunday, November 22, 2009

By Samantha Lemmer
GVL Study Abroad Columnist

I was a victim of the westernized portrayal of Africa. Even referring to such a vast land as one entity, “Africa” makes me cringe.

How is it possible to lump so many different cultures and societies into one? Easy, I suppose. Through splashing our televisions with images of young children with big eyes and frowns on their faces, filling our ears with the pleas of Bono to join the latest celebrity campaign for “Africa," and in general further fueling the false view that the entire continent is a charity case, we are able to believe what we are told, instead of seeing for ourselves.

While it is true there are many areas on the continent experiencing mass hunger, inadequate health and education and high rates of diseases such as HIV/AIDS, there are also many areas thriving and propelling themselves into first world status. One of these areas experiencing success is Ghana.

Ghana, as the first country to obtain independence from colonial rule, has served as a model for other African countries. The promise of such a young state can be seen in visiting its capital, Accra, which my roommates and I had an opportunity to do.

Accra is bustling. Staying in an area called Osu, I could have easily thought I was in Atlanta or Chicago. There were many hip bars and restaurants, large shopping malls and no shortage of traffic- a must-have for any major city.

Having come from Cape Coast just hours before, a small town making up in beauty what it lacks in attractions and nightlife, my roommates and I were a bit culture shocked when we arrived in Accra.

Mamma Mia, the Italian restaurant in Osu and first stop on our list, might as well have been Italy itself!

The menu was extensive and atmosphere was spot-on for an Italian restaurant. These people really knew their stuff!

Venus, the bar and nightclub down the road from our hostel served as a mixing bowl for all different sorts of people. European residents, Ghanaian businessmen and women, grubby backpackers such as ourselves, and any other type of person all intermingled and discussed issues of the world as if we were old friends.

The supermarket, which I stood in the entrance of holding back the temptation to A) faint or B) dance down the aisles, had all sorts of American and European food. As I was marveling at the selection of Lay’s potato chips and cheese at the deli, my mouth hanging slightly open in awe, local shoppers whisked by me, going about their everyday routines.

For them, this was life. Life as a citizen of Accra, is as different as possible from the westernized view of “life as an African.”

Going to Accra taught me a lot. It taught me that so often in life we are misled into believing a biased view on a foreign subject. The trip made me wonder how long I would have gone on simply believing and not finding out for myself.

On the tro-tro ride home, I counted my lucky stars that I had this opportunity to come to an area that is often discussed, but rarely discussed accurately. I wish more people had that chance, and I wish that those who do have it, will take it!

My study abroad experience has had an incredibly large effect on everything I previously thought, believed and blindly followed in the past. I am realizing the world is vastly different from what I was shown and told at home. Due to this time spent in Ghana, I am finally realizing reality.

Posted 6:57 PM 0 Comments


'England ... it's in Europe, right?'

Wednesday, November 18, 2009


By Travis Kovaleinen

GVL Study Abroad Columnist

I think most Americans have a general idea of how others stereotypically view them. Of course there is great variance amongst the attributes pegged to us; sometimes we are said to be generous, other times money hungry.

We have been said to be ignorant of international affairs (true all too often), monolingual (also quite sadly too often accurate) and loud.

Oh yeah, and we‘re supposed to be fat. To make matters worse, the eight years of the Georgre Bush Jr. presidency did not seem to have done much good for our general reputation.

President Obama has definitely helped in improving the way others view Americans as evidenced by international polls often cited in the news.

However, beside the stereotypes already all too prevalent, there is something that can influence others´ perceptions of us even more strongly while abroad: our behavior.

On my daily 30 minute commute to the University of Iceland I take “þrysturinn,” the colloquial term for Bus 3, and usually have a pleasant and silent ride while I admire the scenery.

Recently while Bus 3 was stopped at one of the major stations a pair of obvious tourists entered the bus. Their backpacks bulged to the seams, and they were a bit overweight.

I began to play the game with myself that I think most people residing in an area that gets a lot of visitors inevitably tend to find themselves doing- “guess the nationality!”

It did not take long to discern their country of origin when they quickly broke the silence – which is more or less upheld by nearly all Icelanders while on public transit in the daytime – with their mild southern drawl.

One of the guys sat next to a particularly attractive girl and started up a conversation with her after having been semi-loudly discussing something with his friend.

“England…isn’t that in Europe?” he began.

At first I wasn’t eavesdropping too attentively, but then I couldn’t help myself after having noticed this bit of conversation. My stomach tensed in embarrassment. This is not something an American is supposed to say.

I got my notebook out and began transcribing. This appeared to be the realization of American stereotypes I had heard and read of for years unfortunately unfolding before me.

“Ha?” the Icelandic girl blurted. [haː] is the Icelandic way of using an interrogative “what,” though it sounds quite like someone is oddly laughing at you at first.

“England, it’s in Europe, right?” he repeated.

“Yes,” she quipped.

“”Ever been to Europe?” he continued

“Yes.” She said, seeming to be quickly losing her patience after that intellectually-stimulating question about England.

“Ever been ta’ Amsterdam?” he said with an intonation I am sure he meant to be suave.

“Yes,” she said, continuing to display her disinterest by only answering his questions and saying nothing afterward until asked something else.

“They’ve got some cool coffee shops over there I’ve heard,” he said, still using this voice that was an attempt to sound really cool, as if he felt he were sharing some big secret with her about Amsterdam’s infamous – or possibly famous depending on your stance – marijuana cafés.

At any rate, drug usage beyond alcohol is actually quite taboo in Iceland so he was not making a good impression by assuming she liked marijuana and wanted to discuss pot cafés.

Furthermore, she had already traveled there so I think it is likely she already knew about the nature of some of the cafés, but this is beside the point.

He went on to ask her some more questions about Iceland, which were overly general. For example, he asked her what kind of music Icelandic people listen to and if they have “shopping malls, ya´ know, big stores?’’

This is behavior which I hope none of us will repeat.

After all, whenever we leave the country we are essentially ambassadors. It goes without saying that we should always be on good behavior and polite to others, you know, basic pre-school stuff.

I believe we should also have some basic geography skills, don't you? While we are abroad let's try just a bit harder. I think discussions about drugs and assuming developed countries don´t have “big stores” or that everyone in that country, despite age differences for one, listen to the same music and so on should be reconsidered.

Well, I hope this story is at the very least somewhat entertaining and perhaps helps a few people who might otherwise repeat this behavior, though I’d like to think that unlikely.

Oh, and enjoy you the cold weather in Michigan! It’s actually significantly warmer here during the winter due to something called the Gulf Stream. Happy holidays from Iceland!

Posted 9:26 PM 0 Comments