I cannot help but comment on the small-talk echoing through the quad lately: “How was (insert country) last fall?” an intrigued Bennie asks. “Beautiful. Everything was so pretty. I had so much fun. Bittersweet on my departure, I might add!” answers a melodramatic Johnnie.
I mean, personally, I had a blast in Rome and Athens this fall. I enjoyed myself thoroughly and the gorgeous panorama of Rome from atop St. Peter’s will stay with me my entire life.
Additionally, I would put our abroad staff and facilities on par with those of the finest study abroad programs in the country.
With this in mind, however, what is memorable and powerful about my four months away extends further than the sights, further than the fun and, I might even add, transcends academics.
How far and to what extent, however, is a difficult question – an answer different for all others. I will not bore you with mine, but it is striking that often times this quandry is absent altogether. Instead, we limit ourselves to the comfortable preference.
The ideal study abroad experience, in my humble opinion, is a challenge – one which pushes a person to the ultimate limit – perhaps even toeing that frightening line of panic.
The ideal experience abroad forges character by confronting the cultural code of these distant lands. I suggest that only by taking these conflicts head- on will a student return with the true substance of perspective.
It is remarkable, the banality of how many answer the common “So how was it?” with stories of partying with expats, getting “drunk in da club with a bottle of bub.” I mean, I get the pleasure that comes from toe-tapping to predictable, over-produced beats just as I understand passing time by drumming my fingers on a desk. It is easy – it is comfortable – and the cool kids are doing it.
Dare I say it, could this same experience not take place here? It is cheaper to drink at Sal’s, anyway, and White House has a bumpin’ DJ. Our history professors are fantastic – I am sure they could whip up a Powerpoint of all the pretties you would come across.
Keep in mind, the psychotic attachment to our devices would remain constant. Facebook photos would be up the next morning detailing every waking moment.
My tone here may be over-bearing, but let me make myself clear; at times, I too, made the mistake of being lulled into complacency.
I voice this reality for the sake of future participants – there is more truth to the “time goes quickly” clich