How Facebook changed the face of Study Abroad

At the risk of sounding like an old biddy, “Back in my day.. (2004) there was no internet.” That’s a lie of course. The world wide web had the globe in its silky grasp, but had yet to slip into every home. I left for Spain without a laptop and went to live in a flat with no internet connection. Not even the whirring, beeping cacophony of dial-up.

I don’t remember this being a life-altering detail at the time. The computer lab at the Center for Modern Language was the size of a bedroom, with three old dinosaur PCs. The hard plastic chairs in front of them were consistently full with a rotation of students, basking in the monitor’s blue glow. I settled for a nearby Internet cafe for my online needs -  which back then were 75% uploading photos and the other 25% sending emails.

Yes, emails. No status updates or tweets or instagram photos of my every waking minute overseas. Just long awaited hellos to friends and family, and the sending of photos to share my travels.

Last year when I visited with my former Resident Director she told me, over a plate of churros, that every host family now had wifi. This blew me away. Every house? What a terrible idea! It reportedly stemmed from a significant list of parents who demanded that their children be awarded the necessity (not the luxury) of connectivity at home. No more walks down to the Internet cafe, and you can forget going online at school. Sit in your señora’s flat with your earbuds in, chattering away on Skype from your bedroom. Almost like you’d never been gone at all.

And you haven’t.

courtesy of gadgetsteria.com

If you spend the majority of your time overseas plugged into your American life, you are missing out. On everything.

Picture yourself a giant: standing tall, straddling the Atlantic. One foot is cushioned in the US – with news of home, drama from school, TV shows and local sports crawling up your leg. Your other foot is perched carefully on the Rock of Gibraltar, scaring away the tourists, not speaking the language and slowly crushing the immersion out of your study abroad experience.

We teach our students about culture shock. Up with the honeymoon stage – joy and bliss abound. Down with the rejection stage – depression and homesickness lie in wait. Then you adjust, adapt, and re-enter. When do you think students are inclined to log on the most? Think of it as a budding relationship. You will gush to your friends about the new and wonderful in fits and starts – you are so consumed by your love that you hardly have the time. Then when it starts to fade, your friends hear countless sad tales and horror stories, so that they soon echo your sentiments: “its awful” .. “how terrible” .. “you must hate it.”

Do you? I didn’t. But living abroad last year there were times when it was just easier to crack the open the mac and Gchat with my mom, or Facebook my best friend about my woes. No longer was it about getting news from home, but a lifeline. I’m in crisis – hang on to me, via this internet connection. Instead of seeking support from those around you in times of need, it is so much easier to reach back to where you came from, and the comforts of home.

Social media is not the downfall of study abroad. If you know me at all, you know its one of my major platforms. I will tweet, post and blog to my heart’s content in an effort to share study abroad with anyone that cares to listen.

Social media is not the downfall of study abroad, but it has changed the way we do things. For the better? Perhaps. But the next big challenge is in the balance – teaching students to be socially responsible with their media (and fiscally, if they tend toward that $700 iPhone bill).

So put your phone down, and close your mac. My blog will be here when you get back. So will your parents, and your cousin’s new house, and your friend’s engagement ring. Disconnect yourself for a while, and you’ll see just what you’re missing.

Remembering the pueblo turkey

This time last year, I had a naked turkey between my feet on the ride home from school. It was in a plastic bag, but that was all that was shielding Turkey Tom from the elements and my sneakers.

It was so heavy. Joaquin bolted from the copy room the minute I walked into school that day. Beaming from ear to ear, he assured me it would be the perfect turkey, although a bit bigger than originally intended. A bit? In Spanish we call that una mentira.. a lie.

Just a few days earlier, I had a pow wow with Joaquin and Loli. Yes, it needs to be cleaned. Right, everything out. Everything. Yes, I still want the whole bird. No, I don’t want to kill it myself! Hearty laughter after this last exclamation, despite the panicked look in my eye.

Thanksgiving Eve found my roommates and I up to our elbows in turkey. Plucked? Yes.. except for those horrible little downy feathers that stuck to our fingers. Cleaned out? Yes.. except for the lungs that I discovered while skyping with my mom. My roommate Alex towering over my shoulder, angling my laptop just so. “Mom there’s squishy stuff near the ribs.” “Take everything out.” “What the hell is it?” “I don’t know, but you have to take it out.”

Several hours later we are cursing the bird, the pueblo it came from and the very idea of Thanksgiving. We go to school the next day, tired and checking on the side dishes coming to us from friends, in a potluck-style celebration. I think about the package from my parents (because there’s always a package from my parents). This one holds McCormick gravy mix, cranberry sauce, Stove Top stuffing.

In the end our table seats fifteen. We are mostly Americans, with two Spaniards in the mix. The turkey is awesome, my roommate Andrea glowing in her apron and her success. Ana brings wine from her family’s bodega and we give a toast – each guest saying what they’re thankful for.

This year I’m in an airport in Peoria, Illinois, waiting for a flight home to Pennsylvania.

The table will seat three: my parents and I the ultimate trio. Thanksgiving Eve will be for drinks and conversation with classmates (Happy 10 Year Reunion) .. no giblets or lung bits in sight. No sawing off the neck or other unsavory tail-end cleanup (thanks, Alex).

But I will think about our Triana apartment, full of food and friends. All good things come in plastic bags? This one did.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Travel books I’ve known & loved

I love to travel. I love traveling- the act of getting from place to place. I’m also a voracious reader, so these things go hand in hand. I have not given over to a Kindle or a Nook, and sometimes I feel like I may be one of the only people left reading hard copy books. (Am I?) If I’m going to be away for more than 10 days, there will be at least two paperback books tucked away in my luggage.

So what do I read? Anything I can get my hands on. I love fiction – children’s literature, murder mysteries, law thrillers, and of course, travel literature. Through recommendations from friends, and sometimes just a good feeling at a used bookstore, I’ve picked up some excellent reads. Here’s a list, in no particular order, of what has traveled with me over the last year...

goodreads.com

• A Year in the World: Journeys of a Passionate Traveler by Frances Mayes

Yes, she did write Under the Tuscan Sun and no, I have not read it (or watched it). But I did read this one, encountering one of the best phrases ever: “Two of my favorite words are linked: departure time.” Be advised this is no backpacker’s tale .. Mayes does let slip that she charters a boat here and rents a villa there; not for the average wallet.

• A Year in the Merde by Stephen Clark

Red, white and $#!T. A hysterical look at a year in the life of a Brit gone Frog, covering everything from food to sex to a house in the country in Paris, France.

• Tales of a Female Nomad: Living at Large in the World by Rita Golden Gelman

This was my first read focusing on (1) women and (2) solo travel. I was not disappointed. To read this book is to travel alongside Gelman – to share her fears and cheer for her success. One day I hope our paths cross and we can post up at a café somewhere and trade secrets.

• A House Somewhere: Tales of Life Abroad by Lonely Planet

A gift from my friend Holly, and a true testament to wanderlust. Very different stories from from different locations. Authors write about setting up shop in a foreign country and finding a way to make it their own. Tales range from funny to curious to strange.

notesfromspain.com

• Expat: Women’s True Tales of Life Abroad by Christina Henry de Tessan

One of the women writing in this collection said: “Your first foreign country speaks to you as no subsequent one can.” She was talking about Spain, and about my life. At least, I like to think so!

• Driving Over Lemons: An Optimist in Andalucia by Chris Stewart

I was lucky enough to meet Chris this past year at an engagement in Seville during the International Film Festival. He is a charming Brit who once played with the band Genesis, and gave up his life to move abroad. My bias shines through with regard to Andalucia, but he does have a way with words. If you like this, you can look for Parrot in a Pepper Tree and Almond Blossom Society .. but you may have to get them shipped from the UK.

• It’s Not About the Tapas: A Spanish Adventure on Two Wheels by Polly Evans

She rides a bike, she encounters troubles transporting said bike, and has the Pyrenees in the background the whole time. Not one of my favorites, but duh – Spain.

• Foreign Babes in Beijing: Behind the Scenes of a New China by Rachel DeWoskin

I had no idea what this was when I picked it up, but I was surprised to see that it followed an American girl who schlepped to China and worked in a PR firm by day and on a racy TV drama by night. What are the odds? An interesting read.

• Journey to Portugal: In Pursuit of Portugal’s History and Culture by José Saramago

So this guy won a Nobel Prize for literature. Does this mean I loved this book? No. Sadly, I could not get into a rhythm with his narrative choice (“the traveler” as third person main character). His passion for the topic is clear, but sometimes acted as a roadblock rather than a motivator.

barnesandnoble.com

• Without Reservations: The Travels of an Independent Woman by Alice Steinbach

Yes, one more about women traveling solo. What can I say? This is my life! Steinbach takes a sabbatical from real life and tries to “find” herself. She sends herself postcards and dedicates herself to discovering each city, and her own emotions about the place it belongs in her life.

• Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother Daughter Journey to the Sacred Places of Greece, Turkey and France by Sue Monk Kidd

Sue wrote “The Secret Life of Bees,” which I enjoyed. My mom and I both read this one and found several false starts and an overall unsatisfying story. We’ve never traveled together but I daresay this is a damn good excuse to try!

What are you reading? Feel free to leave some recommendations.

on leading a double life

The alarm goes off at 7:11 a.m. but I don’t get out of bed until approximately 7:29. I’m not tired or hungover, or channeling my former roommate .. I’m actually surfing on my iTouch. It’s true – I don’t even get out of my bed before I go online. How many of you are guilty of the same? (as you read this from your handheld devices in questionable locations).

image credit: nowsourcing, @JustinParks

So what’s on first? The weather. Bethlehem, Madrid. It’s already 1:11 p.m. in Spain, and I take a few seconds to think about my other life while comparing the temperatures. Then I check my email. Sale at Kohl’s, free shipping from Cheryl & Co, Qmail from ArtsQuest, SPANISH. Yes! A return email from a dear friend 3,000 miles away, in another language. My other language.

When I was living in Seville, I talked about leading a dual life between pueblo and city – commuting to work in Bollullos, 45 km from my flat in Triana. Email, video chats and this very blog brought many of things I love closer to me than in my semester abroad in 2004. You know, back when I was calling my parents from a pay phone in the street and sending carrier pigeons instead of text messages …

So what are the challenges of leading a double life? Isn’t it supposed to be sexy like a spy film or high profile like that of a celebrity? In fact, no. Sometimes it seems fictitious, as though the past year was nothing but a figment of my imagination. Sometimes it is exciting when I get to share my stories with anyone who will listen. Sometimes it can be downright painful when I find myself missing everything from the orange trees to the local diner. Sometimes it can be confusing when I can’t find the words to express something in my native language. With one foot in each country, it often takes more concentration than I can muster just to be in the present moment. Some days, in both places, I wonder what on earth I’m doing there .. or here.

Now suddenly, it’s August. I find myself standing in Pennsylvania, blinking in the sunlight and wondering where the hell my FBI clearance is. Across the pond, my new boss is writing me emails about the upcoming year. I chat with friends returning to nuestra tierra in mere weeks, and friends who have never left. I cringe over flight prices and plan my ten year high school reunion that I will likely miss. I’m working full time to make money that I will be spending somewhere else. The new suitcase I just purchased is the pretty purple elephant in the room, a reminder and a deadline.

This double life gig is not about having your cake and eating it, too. It’s like trying to make your favorite cake in a foreign country in someone else’s kitchen with almost ingredients and an oven with an attitude. But the icing is delicious. Trust me.

———————————————————————–

Kudos to fellow bloggers who have recently completed the #My7Links challenge: Natalie, Cat & Jessica. Premiere quote of this archive-combing expedition goes to Jessica from Budajest who has summarized my expat existence in seven graphic words: “Three years abroad has opened my bones.”