Outbounds 2004-2005

August 27 Journal
Konnichiwa, minna!
Well, it’s been a bit over a week since I arrived in the “Land of the Rising Sun.” I always thought that title made Japan sound like a fantasy land one could know of only from legends. Japan actually was rather like that for me because I had only experienced it through books and traveler’s tales. Now I’m here and I’ll be able to know this mysterious place for myself once and for all. No book could have ever enabled me to know Japan like my own epic journey could.

After my flight, which wasn’t as horrible as everyone told me it would be, arriving in Tokyo’s Narita Airport I found my host sister, Terumi, and niece, Yuri, along with three other Rotarians. They greeted me with smiles and a colorful sign reading “Welcome! Morgan Boecher.” We chose a dinner spot in the airport where, I, the guest of honor, had the privilege of choosing any meal on the menu. After making my selection and receiving my food I realized that a strange phenomenon had occurred. Everyone had ordered the exact same dish! About halfway through the meal I had to ask why, to which the response was given: “It’s easier this way… In Japan we do things as a group.” I had heard of the group-oriented Japanese, but I wouldn’t have expected to this extent!

I was excited to get to ride a train home to Kawaguchi, as well as when I learned that I would be riding a train to school everyday. Train, bus and foot, actually. When we arrived at my new home I was quite tired and in need of a shower. When I was shown the bathroom and found a large tub, a stool, and a shower head beside it lower than my waist I almost thought I would be too tired for what seemed to be an immensely different system. The sit-down shower really wasn’t much of a problem at all, and I was soon able to fall asleep in my new, comfy bed with a funny shaped pillow. I slept well.

Every meal here seems like a delicious feast. With each meal several different plates and bowls offer interesting new flavors for me. I love tasting Japanese food. To my great delight I discovered that the markets featured in large department stores have free samples at every counter from vegetables to desserts. Another amusing food encounter happened last night at a restaurant that featured a stove on every table top. All the food was served raw and one was expected to cook it themselves! Luckily Terumi is a good cook^_^. I’m glad I can enjoy frequent walks and bike rides around the city with Yuri to counter the calories.

The fact that outside in two countries could be so different is astounding. Especially coming from America, where everything is big and wide, to the small and compact country of Japan. I was so amazed the first time I realized the cute, little cars traveling on the narrow one-way, two-lane streets. Even buildings are smaller and more tightly packed. Some of the doorways I’ve seen would not work with the taller stature of the U.S. Japan is built for a different shape of people, different bodies, and different mindsets. I’m glad I fit.

Ja mata, ne!

-Morgan

September 18 Journal
Exactly one month has now passed since I’ve last had a poppy seed muffin from my Bageland in Florida. But what am I doing thinking about American food here in Japan??? They have spreadable milk and corn flavored gum. I most certainly came to the right country.
Life in Japan is beginning to feel more normal, but no less interesting. I’m really enjoying school, which also stands as most of my social life at the moment since midterm exams are next week. I made friends on my second day and I’m still meeting more and more affable people. I joined art club which meets after school everyday, but because it’s rather casual, many people don’t go all the time. I wake up around 6:30 and take a 30 minute bus ride to the train station, from which I take the train to Warabi (the smallest “city” in Japan where my high school is located) then I walk 25 minutes to school. I thoroughly enjoy every leg of the journey, though. I love being outside and exploring. And with the train system travel is so easy! Everyday I can explore a new city that’s only minutes away from Kawaguchi (my hometown)! Tokyo is only 13 stops away, but I haven’t been yet. My friends promise to take me after exams!

School has been nothing but busy busy busy since I arrived. First there was Bunkasai (school culture festival) to which there is no equivalent in the States. The entire school was transformed into an amusement park! They built a stage out of desks and covered it with a beautifully hand painted banner! There were performances, food stands, games, horror houses, all constructed by students. Everything was covered with color and thoroughly decorated. Needless to say, the two day festival was a blast.

The next week I obtained my class schedule. I love the Japanese school system! Everyday I have different classes and all at different times. Some days P.E., some days Calligraphy, some days Math… My favorite is English class, though. The teachers use me for pronunciation practice. In classes like Japanese history or Biology I still take notes from the board in Japanese, but most of the time I can’t read the teachers’ messy kanji. Also, students usually study alone, so I foresee a rough time for me in school. Actually, there’s this ten page paper due in January that everyone is going to be working on after exams. I’m kind of looking forward to writing it. It would be wonderfully rewarding writing a coherent report written in Japanese. As well as researching in Japanese… oh well, it’s a challenge!

I’m already used to writing tons of speeches in Japanese… my club meets every week and they expect a Japanese speech from me every time. Even at my ‘welcome to Japan party’ (which was so much fun… I sang and danced karaoke to the Beatles “Back in the USSR” with the Rotary president’s son) they threw me up there with a microphone and expected a speech in Japanese right there on the spot! Luckily I survived alright… I’m so glad to have studied Japanese so much before coming. Everyone thinks I’m so smart! Speaking the language enables me to express more of my own character, I think. I can be more polite and charming because I’m not just sitting like a silent block of tofu.

I should also admit that I experienced some culture shock a few days ago. My host family, who seem to have the more traditionally Japanese mindsets, told me that sightseeing was bad and that I should just be studying. Yeah, they’re a bit strict. My first curfew was 5pm. I spoke with my Rotary counselor a bit because I was a little worried that they wouldn’t give me the full experience I’ve dreamed about for so long. They wouldn’t let me go to a party with all of my classmates because it was too late, lasting from 7-9 pm. I was upset because I’ve heard that seeing my friends outside of school will be a rare occurrence. I’ve still never been able to hang out with any of my Japanese friends yet. The party would have been a perfect opportunity.

However, now I realize how much my family cares about my happiness. Even though they worry when I’m out or taking walks on the narrow streets with fast, tiny cars and no sidewalks, they let me do so. A lot of the times they say no first, but then later decide to let me go. I’m gaining more freedom! Today I went to Akabane, the city next to Kawaguchi all by myself! I spent the whole afternoon there and had a wonderful time exploring.

I wanted to know what it is to be a Japanese high school girl, and that is what my family is allowing me to do. I wanted to be shocked and I wanted the opposite environment of America, and that’s what I got. I’m living my dream, through the good and the bad. I’m so lucky to be able to wake up in Japan every day.

Morgan

October 15 Journal
Woo! After this weekend I’m at the two month mark! And it won’t take long to get there since I have lots to keep me busy until then. Tomorrow I’m going to see a traditional Japanese play featuring slow dancing and actors speaking old Japanese (which even the natives find difficult to understand). Also on Sunday I’m going with my host father (Otoosan) to see a classical music concert, and my second ‘Undokai,’ which is like a bigger, more formal version of a school field day. Kids run and race and play funny games where large logs are transported around spacious fields. I can’t wait until my high school’s undokai in May! There are even more plans in the future… Kabuki theater, Tokyo’s art museum in Ueno, picture taking excursions in Harajuku, Ski trips, Hiroshima and Kyoto Rotary trips!!!
School and food also make every day something to look forward to. I’ve made friends from art club and my homeroom class and I learn so much Japanese every day! I’m getting to the point where I can understand my Japanese notes and the teacher’s lectures, to an extent, if I strain and am quick enough with my electric dictionary. Cell phones and Japanese video games have become my favorite mediums of study, though. Everyday I e-mail my friends via cell phone, typing on the tiny keypads in Japanese. Sometimes they like to practice their English on me too! Also, I borrowed a Gameboy Advance from a friend and purchased the Harvest Moon game. I play it at my desk at home where I can look up any kanji or grammar I don’t understand. I’m satisfied with my language capabilities. I can feel myself growing closer to my family now that I can communicate comfortably and even joke with them! I’m happy to be learning this fascinating language as well. Speaking and writing Japanese stretches your mind in wonderful new directions, because you have to think backward from English to communicate. And then put that in a different character system. I can’t wait to see how far I can go with the language before the end of my year.

As well as having great things to look forward to, I have already make great memories. I went winter clothes shopping in Harajuku, Tokyo with my host sister and niece. Basically, if you belong to any subculture… goth, prep, punk, freak… you’ll find clothes of your taste in Harajuku. That Tokyo district is quite popular with the youth, and I’m always hearing about fellow classmates visiting on the weekends. I love Tokyo so dearly. And I love the fact that I’m 20 minutes away by train!! Trains are absolutely wonderful. Thanks to them, I’ve been able to see about 8 different cities already! By the way, my area (including Tokyo) is actually one HUGE city! Between ‘cities’ there is no forestry or rice paddies or nothingness… all city! So if I want to think of it that way, I’m living in a part of Tokyo!

Fortunately, I’ve also had the privilege of experiencing the country area as well. I went way out to the mountains once to visit distant (host) family and gather chestnuts. Also, last weekend I took a trip with my whole family (for the first time) to Nigata-ken where I visited my first Japanese shrine. The gigantic series of blazing red-orange buildings was a beautiful and unique scene before the green mountains. We entered the shrine and took off our shoes (not unusual when entering a building in Japan) and paid our respects before a golden staircase decorated with radiant ornaments and statuary. I was a little curious as to what we were going to do in a Jinja (shrine) all day, since the plan was indeed to spend the day. I soon learned that after paying over $200 you sit in a room and write on big red candles. Lots and lots of big, red candles. I think we filled about 6 boxes or so. Actually, I only got to write on 2… I spent the rest of the time exploring the Jinja ^_^. The custom is to write your wishes, or prayers, in kanji on the candles, and in November the hundreds of candles are taken up to a mountain by the priests or shrine maidens for Kami-sama (God).

Another very, very Japanese encounter was when a Rotarian took me to see a Noh play, which is a traditional drama featuring crazy costumes, crazy talking, crazy music and slow dancing. After the play everyone enjoyed a splendid dinner that must have consisted of over 8 courses of small, exquisite portions. There, I was also invited to learn the art of Tea Ceremony, but not until next year. (Don’t worry, I made sure to thank the Rotarian with a nice, long, thank you note in Japanese, of course ^_~)

What a rich and wonderful culture this country has. There’s a way to do EVERYTHING, even though nowadays not everyone still practices the traditional customs. Heh… luck for me my host father never forgot any of the mannerisms of the past… During our delicious home cooked dinners by my host mother (Okaasan), Otoosan is usually drilling me about the proper way to speak or eat my food or present a business card. The first time he explained to me how I should only try to learn keigo (the polite form of Japanese speech used for speaking humbly to those older than you or higher up on the social ladder) and not casual Japanese (used for speaking with friends and people you’re close to) I was a little bewildered. I told him that I wanted to learn both so that I could enjoy as many aspects of the language (and culture) as I could. If some people can know several languages, I should be able to handle two forms of Japanese. He disagreed, though. I’ve learned not to argue with older people in Japan… it won’t get you anywhere at all. After our light hearted dispute he stood me up and instructed me for about the 5th time how to introduce myself with my business card. He wasn’t mean about it… just so serious and headright. Afterward I felt a little overwhelmed and cried a bit in my room. Certainly a culture shock episode. I hear my father’s very strict even by Japanese standards. The next day I was feeling a little overwhelmed again, but I remember always being told that sharing your feelings instead of sulking alone in your room was much better. I remember hearing from my first Japanese Rotary orientation that although Japanese parents can be strict, they are also capable of showing great warmth if you let them. I went downstairs and asked if I could talk with everyone, my eyes running and red. They paid full attention when I explained about the culture shock I was experiencing… how strange it was to go from such a liberal family to a strict one… but I made it clear to them that they were doing nothing wrong, and that I expected myself to be the one to adapt. They understood. To make me feel better, Okaasan and my sister took me to a supermarket, one of my favorite places in Japan, where I bought my cartoned coffee drinks and taste-tested all the fantastic foods reliably waiting on their little toothpicks. I love that… I can sample a small bit of every kind of interesting Japanese food from sashimi to melon bread… for free too! I take advantage of free samples every time I visit a food market.

It was a relief for me to know that my family had that Japanese warmth. Living with my family is feeling more comfortable. Tonight I perceived Otoosan’s lecture on ‘how to push the food that you didn’t eat from dinner into a neat little pile as a positive experience in learning a different culture. He still has that air of strictness about him, but I’m getting used to it.

Oooo! And I love the cool fall weather that’s coming around! Feels like Christmas is on its way… even though it’s Oshogatsu (New years holiday) instead! There’s still a Christmas, but everyone still works and goes to school! I have school Christmas eve, actually, because Christmas is the first day of winter break. Another queer fact is that there is more hype about Halloween around here, but no Halloween! I’m looking forward to doing the holiday season in Japanese.

I think now I’m going to try again to figure out how to take a shower properly and then enjoy a nice, warm, Japanese bath. Oyasumi nasai!

November 27 Journal
Konnichiwa, minna! Genki desu ka?
Sorry I’ve been unable to update in a while. I’ve actually been having some problems with my host family and I had to change, so I’ve been a little preoccupied. I was supposed to spend the whole year with my first family, but they’ve been more than a little neglectful, I could say… Luckily my host Rotary Club is eager to understand and help me. Now I couldn’t be happier with my situation, thanks to them. I’m living with a fantastic family who always converse with me and take me out every day. I’ve been learning so quickly, dragging my electric dictionary around and looking up every word I’m not familiar with. It’s like a constant communication game. I also have two brothers, age 15 and 17, who take a sincere interest in me. Usually I hear that Japanese brothers and sisters aren’t very close… girls and boys in Japan tend to separate themselves from each other… but my host brothers don’t mind long conversations or spending time with me. Not to mention this family is rather well off ^_^. I know there are much better aspects, but I have to admit the elevator in our four story house is pretty nice… I already feel so close to this family. A feeling I never developed with my last. On my second day in this household I helped with the preparations of my welcome party. Okaasan (mom) gave me a beautiful Japanese apron and we cooked and cleaned and talked… after the feast she offered me her bed to rest in. Second day and I’m already invited into her bedroom! With my last family I never even saw every room in the house.

In other news, school is going well. My teachers are all nice and they do what they can to help me understand and include me in the lessons, but most of my attention is focused on learning Japanese. In December I’m going on a school trip with my class to Okinawa! I’ve been trying to learn what I can about Okinawa’s history and culture, and I’ve come to find some rather interesting information. Okinawa wasn’t always a part of Japan so it has its own unique culture that I’m eager to see. I wonder if I’ll be able to understand the Japanese spoken there. Also, a week ago we had our school marathon. 21 kilometers around a lake!!! Running for 3 hours straight!!! But I actually wasn’t allowed to participate. The teachers though I hadn’t had enough practice since most of my PE classes were substituted for Japanese. I still enjoyed a leisurely walk around the lake and ate bread with all my classmates afterward.

The colder season is approaching (even though the climate here is warmer than Gainesville’s right now, probably) and I’m afraid of catching a cold. Japanese people really make a big deal out of it! A month ago, I woke up one morning with a bit of a sore throat and my host family made me go immediately to the doctor’s after school. There I received five prescription medications that I took twice a day for about a week. For a little sore throat!!! I asked some of my Japanese friends and teachers if this was normal, and they said that usually in Japan parents take sick kids right to the doctor if they feel anything less than healthy. How are they supposed to develop any antibodies if they’re taking medicine all the time?? Also you never ever see so much as one yen lying in public spaces. I’ve seen more buttons on the ground than coins.

Japan can be the most heartwarming place at times. I went to a middle school yesterday and answered questions about America and played games with the curious students and at the end of it all they gave me presents. A bag full of origami that they made themselves and an adorable note thanking me for coming. They were all so cute! Also, one of my friend’s mom bought me an unusual present that just melted all my innards. Pants!! She had never met me, but she bought me pants. And the creepiest thing is that they fit perfectly and they’re the same color as a pair I brought from America. (0_0).

I’ve been getting used to life here, but the adventure is far from over. Not a day has been a waste here. Since I changed host families I feel more relaxed and free to enjoy Japan. I’m exactly where I hoped I would be when I was dreaming in America.

December 27 Journal
 This month could quite likely be my best in Japan so far; and I have a lot to owe to my host family and Rotary Club.
Life is perfectly comfortable with the Itou family. They’ve given me an environment in which I can enjoy personal space when I need it, or lively company. I still don’t know how many host families I’ll end up with this year, but I wouldn’t mind staying here if it came to it. Okaasan (Mom) is always taking me about shopping, or to the temple where we do calligraphy, or borrowing picture books from the library for me. Last week I had some good bonding time with my Otoosan (Dad) and brothers at a Matsuri (Festival) where beautifully intricate New Years decorations hung for sale around the steaming food stands and gaming booths. Dinner is a warm experience every night. Okaasan teaches me how to cook the Japanese dishes that differ every night. Nabe is one of my favorites. A large, simmering pot is set on the stove upon the dining table and everyone constantly adds or eats veggies and meats that are put into the pot. Eating from the same pot while talking and laughing creates a great sense of togetherness.

Aside from finding my niche, I’ve been doing some adventuring as well. I went on a Rotary trip with the other exchangers to Hiroshima, Himeji, Nara, and Kyoto in three days 0_o. Yes, we were busy, but I had some great experiences. We took a plane to Hiroshima first, where we visited the memorial park and museum dedicated to the U.S. bombings of World War II. The museum was a pretty intense place. The most striking thing I remember is seeing some bits of burnt skin from a little boy’s fingers on display. The caption underneath retold a story of how he was so thirsty while burning that he sucked the puss from his fingers. There are some incredible pains the human race has made itself endure…

After that heavy eye-opener we traveled to Himeji and explored a beautiful, seven floored, white castle before heading to our hotel around 6pm. We had some time out after dinner, but curfew was 9:30. That’s Japanese Rotary for ya ^_^.

In Nara and Kyoto we visited a number of breathtaking temples and stayed at a traditional Japanese hotel called a ‘Ryokan.’ The Japanese feast was one of my favorite parts of the whole trip. The elongated tables were so full of plates and bowls containing delicious varieties of foods that we had trouble keeping everything on the surface. We even had Matsutake tea, consisting of Matsutake mushrooms that can go for $30 a piece. I must say, Rotary really treated us well.

Even the return home was a treat. We got to ride the famous Shinkansen (bullet train). On the train I was looking forward to dispersing my many souvenirs that I bought for my friends and family (a must-do if you want to fit in in Japan).

*Whew* now for the long part… my school trip to Okinawa (a Japanese island between Taiwan and Japan). The $1000 worth of it was graciously paid for by my Rotary Club. Doumo Arigatou Gozaimashita!!!

The four days spent with my classmates speaking Japanese the entire time greatly helped me reach a deeper understanding of the country I’m living in. We took a two and a half hour plane flight (during which I saw Mt. Fuji) to Okinawa’s largest city, Naha. Our first stop was a rather touristy place with a cave Okinawa’s famous for. I was with my group of friends with whom I usually eat lunch and go to art club with, but I had never seen them outside of school before. I thought that this trip would really bring us together.

The second day we were guided by an Okinawan University student to a series of locations to learn about Okinawa’s rather tragic history. Our first stop was a cave which was used as a hospital under the battlefield. 200 high school girls, of my age and younger, were dispersed by the Japanese government to various caves to provide medical service to wounded soldiers.

The cave I stood in housed about 1000 patients who were taken care of by 5 girls, and was about the size of a large room. There, amid horrid conditions from disease, lack of appropriate waste facilities and means of proper instrument sterilization, men were going mad, being eaten by maggots, and getting amputated by candle light. And the 5 girls were so overwhelmed with work that they didn’t even have time to sleep. I was standing in a place that used to be hell on earth.

Later we went to a museum dedicated to the 200 girls who served as nurses. I read translated diaries that the girls wrote. Their stories made me feel rather emotional. I can’t imagine having to go through what they did. I felt a burning anger at one point. No innocent, living thing should have to experience what those girls did. I read a comment by a Japanese general who stated that he didn’t feel any obligation to mourn the dead or thank the survivors because they had fulfilled the minimum of what was required of them – to give their lives up for Japan if it meant harming the enemy. War is disgusting.

Later that day we arrived at our beach side ryokan and had another extensive picture taking fest. The next day we spent in the countryside, learning how to farm sugar cane, beniimo (tasty, purple potato-like things) and ride horses. One of the ladies working on the farm happened to be American, and seemed enthusiastic to meet me, another of her breed. She indeed had that familiar American spirit, despite having lived in Okinawa for 13 years.

Talking with her was quite refreshing, as she seemed to have experienced similar culture shock to mine. During the trip I had gotten a bit homesick because I didn’t feel I was bonding with my Japanese friends so nicely. I still carry my outspoken, direct American nature, so when trying to adapt I find myself acting. I’m an American pretending to be Japanese when I’m with my friends. Never have I said ‘sorry’ and ‘thank you’ to such excess. On the trip my friends treated me as though they were responsible for me, reprimanding me when I went somewhere like the bathroom without telling them first. I like to explore and absorb as much as I can, but the Japanese way of sticking with the group clashes with those wishes. I don’t cause trouble and I follow along, but I’m suppressing the real me inside; which, in itself, is a very Japanese thing to do. While friends have been the cause for a little disappointment, I realize I can accept it, because this is the Japanese culture that I came here to learn. The American lady too had some hard times trying to keep her mouth shut.

The last day we spent gift shopping in a large tourist area called International Boulevard, and flew home. I let out a gasp when we flew over Tokyo, sparkling like hundreds of jewels in the night. It was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever witnessed. Up until landing I couldn’t unglue my eyes from the window. The runway was lined with bright blue and green lights, and while Tokyo shone off on the horizon, rectangular, yellow signs with black arrows and numbers were scattered around the space. Nothing but the lights and signs could be seen. It felt as though if math were a place it would be here.

Even more spectacular, however, was taking the monorail afterward through Tokyo. I was flying above and between buildings that dazzled with signs and Christmas lights. Over the bay I flew. In the distance I saw the magnificent Tokyo Tower all lit up. So much effort by so many people was put into creating these spectacular colors and shapes before my eyes. This is truly an amazing world, and I’m so grateful that I’ve been drawn closer to its wonders through being able to live in Japan.

January 14 Journal
 So, wanna know what a Japanese Christmas is like? Just about the same as every other day in Japan! Except for Oshogatsu (New Years). That’s the big, special holiday in the Land of the Rising Sun.
Throughout December I felt as though I was misled, because the department stores and even some of the houses were just about as decked out as an American town that time of year. Christmas trees, colored lights, advertisements and gifts… I actually put more effort in gift shopping than I was expected to, but I had fun all the same. On Christmas day there was actually a little extra celebrating. Japanese barbeque, karaoke, dinner with friends, and two fancy Christmas cakes! I enjoyed the easygoing atmosphere and didn’t really suffer from homesickness. I did get a little nostalgic, thinking of Christmas with my family, but that feeling was more enjoyable than depressing.

This New Years I wasn’t watching the ball drop in Times Square on TV. I didn’t countdown to ten or set off fireworks. Instead of banging pots and pans I was banging a gong beside a bonfire at a temple. The morning of Oshogatsu I awoke to a feast of osechiryouri (special oshogatsu food). Everything was delightfully sweet and delicious. The osechiryouri was made to last for the first three days of the new year, where everyone enjoys not having to do anything. My host mother then led me into her kimono closet and picked from her extensive collection a casual, winter kimono for me to sport around town. Despite the fact that the kimono I wore was a more simple sort, putting the whole thing on took over an hour. The whole family (including our Chiwawa (japanese spelling!!… cuz I don’t know the English…) named Shun-chan) piled into the mini-van and went to a number of shrines and temples to request a happy year.

This year I may have missed out on a mountain of Christmas presents, but I had the privilege of experiencing the otoshidama. Otoshidama is money received from relatives in a pretty little envelope. Usually kids can get hundreds of dollars, but I was satisfied with my humble $50. Nengajou was also another foreign treat for me. Every new years everyone sends (usually hundreds) of postcards to friends and family, wishing them a happy new year. I had fun sending and receiving cards to and from friends and Rotarians.

Another significant event for a Floridian who had never seen snow before: Ski trip with my host family!!! We drove 4 hours to a nice resort where I spent two days learning how to ski and relaxing in the outdoor hot springs (despite the snow flurry occurring at the time). I can’t say I’m pro quite yet, since I spent about as much time rolling down hills as I did skiing down them, but now I have a little experience before my ski trip with Rotary in February.

Needless to say, winter break was quite successful and I’m also happy to be back at school… to an extent. It’s still freaking cold walking 25 minutes to and from school everyday!! And those stupid, short school uniform skirts don’t help much… Lucky I didn’t get sent to the northern island Hokkaido. School uniforms are rather a bother, I don’t mind saying. In the summer the boys have to endure the heat in their long pants, and in the winter the girls’ exposed legs freeze. Our first day back there was an assembly in the cold, cold gym where the whole school had to stand for an hour wearing only their school uniforms (no winter coats) while we listened to long speeches. Sometimes in Japan the importance of doing what’s ‘proper’ surpasses the importance of being comfortable. One major difference from the States, I’ve found.

I’m happy to say that I’m enjoying life in Japan as much as I enjoy life in America. There are bits missing here (the people and muffins that I like the most), but there are also bits of Japan that will be hard to live without when I return to the US. Too bad there isn’t a Morgan country where all the nice bits of the world are condensed in one spot.

Mata ne! (^o^)/

February 16 Journal
 As the mid-year mark looms above me I find my life in Japan becoming more full, happy and exciting. At the end of January I switched host families again and am now living happily with Miwa Shinoda’s family. Miwa is the Japanese inbound living in Daytona Beach, Florida this year. So yes, I’m back in main Kawaguchi, one station away from my favorite place in the world, Tokyo.
The biggest excursion thus far for the month of February would have to be the Rotary ski trip to Nagano Prefecture. I did my best to make up for all the years I’ve lived without snow by sledding, eating, skiing, climbing, rolling, falling, and playing in the stuff. On this ski trip I believe I actually learned a thing or two about how to ski, so I had a rather good time making my way down the slopes. I also managed to become better friends with the other exchange students and Rotex members, who I rarely had a chance to speak with before. Perhaps one of the most notable occurrences on that trip, though, was my first whack at wasabi ice cream. It was spicy, disgusting, and completely worth almost missing the bus home for. An experience I shall fondly think back to as I remove the wasabi from every bit of sushi I eat in the future.

The next most memorable event in the past 14 days would be my day trip to Roppongi, Tokyo with a good friend of mine named Kazune from Warabi High School and her dad. I love Kazune and her family so much! I had Christmas dinner at their home (the second tallest apartment complex in Japan) and I had a wonderful time laughing and talking and being myself with those people. Anyway, so Sunday we went by car (which took 30 minutes) to the heart of Tokyo and visited Roppongi Hills, which is meant to be a shopping mall, museum, and an observatory, but the actual series of buildings looks more like a work of modern art. We ascended to the 53rd floor and admired the spectacle of Tokyo stretching on forever. I also enjoyed the modern art museum, featuring an exhibit on inflatable and detachable cities. After window shopping throughout the maze-like structures we went to a famous, fancy chocolatier (it being the day before Valentine’s Day and all). There we drank the most delicious, creamiest hot chocolate I’ve ever tasted. The chocolaty mixture seemed to contain the goodness of six mugs of normal cocoa compressed into an espresso cup. Afterward I went chocolate shopping on my own in less extravagant areas in preparation for February 14th.

In theory, on the Japanese Valentine’s Day girls are supposed to buy chocolate for boys that they like, and when White Day (March 14) rolls around, the guys return the favor with white chocolate. In actuality, girls are really the only active participants in the holiday as they exchange home made goods among each other. I must say the chocolate surplus in all the stores was a bit misleading for me, because I hardly received any chocolate at all. I was bombarded with cookies, cakes, and brownies which I (fortunately) was able to counter with a bag of chocolate I brought to school. I think I was the only girl who gave chocolate to a few boys I considered friends… but, whatever! Everyone seemed happy ^_^. I swear, during Valentine’s season I couldn’t be happier to be living near Tokyo. They take fancy chocolate seriously this time of year. My favorites were the chocolate chunks shaped like tools (light bulbs, wrenches, chains…) And even better was taste testing it all for free in the ritzy department stores!

During the drive home from Roppongi on the highways that ran in mid-air among tall buildings and flashy advertisements I felt such pure contentment. There was nowhere else in the world I would have wanted to be at that serene moment. Being this happy feels like it shouldn’t be allowed, but it has to be healthy. No outside influences with dangerous consequences induce this amazing elation. How many people know a feeling like that? I love where I live and I love what this year is doing for me. I can’t wait to see the rest of the world! Thank you, everyone.

Morgan

March 19 Journal
 While I’ve been traveling and adventuring to as many corners of Japan within my reach, I have also begun to feel like I understand the Japanese mind, which seems to contrast almost completely to the 13 characteristics that make Americans American. Except for punctuality. We both like being on time for the most part. (These characteristics were taught to us exchange students at a Rotary orientation before our year abroad).
1. Individuality – Individuality tends to be rather important to Americans, but in Japan people value group consciousness (shuudan ishiki) and spend a lot of effort to ensure the comfort of others. They do this by maintaining a polite or humble stature among other people. ‘Deru kui wa utareru’ or ‘The nail that sticks out gets hammered down’ is an idea I’ve seen in practice many times. Staying quiet and following the ‘senpai’ (leader) is rather encouraged. While American teachers encourage students to be critical, ask questions and think for themselves, Japanese students who stay quiet in class and mimic the teacher are appreciated.

2. Control of environment – Well, Americans like to control their individual environments to suit themselves, but the Japanese tend to accept nature and live with it harmoniously. In Japan I’ve certainly had more exposure to the elements, having to walk at least twenty minutes to and from school a day. In America there are cars, central heating systems and air conditioners to keep our environment comfy. The Japanese have a very strong sense for the seasons, as shops change their decorations, different foods become available, and certain rituals are performed for fall, winter, spring and summer. I can say that Japan prefers its social environment more controlled than its natural one.

3. Change is good – That’s what I’ve always believed! However, I’ve met a fair number of Japanese who see their country changing for the worse. Despite the fact that I see Tokyo more safe than Gainesville in many ways, many people I’ve met believe that Japan is becoming a very ‘abunai tokoro’ (dangerous place), what with the rapid influx of foreigners and their influence and all. There’s no doubt Japan isn’t what it was a few decades ago. Right now is a fascinating time to be an exchange student in this country.

4. Time is money – My philosophy of life includes being productive at all times (even indulgences are productive if they’re taken in the right ratio of quantity to happiness… as long as you come out mentally and physically healthy in the end…). With me being an adventurer and all, I certainly value my time and take special care to plan my actions tactfully so as to gain the most from this experience. About what the Japanese think on the subject… well, I don’t think I’ve learned enough to make any vague conclusions, but they seem to think time is pretty important. I heard somewhere that if faced with a deadline almost impossible to make, taking time beyond the deadline would be preferable to doing a shoddy job.

5. Equality and Egalitarianism – Now, dealing with a lower quantity of this stuff took (and is taking) quite a bit of adjusting. ‘senpai’ and ‘kohai’ (superior and inferior) roles play an active part in everyday Japanese life. At school (Teacher—student, 3rd year—2nd year students), at home (Parent—child), in public and in groups (Older people, men—younger people, women)… These relationships are defined by actions and language (Keigo has three forms: polite, humble, and honorary, which are used when speaking to people of outside groups… (or inside groups of a certain kind that aren’t made up of close friends or relatives)… Man, this place is complex, ne? In truth, I like the idea of just being equal. It’s a lot easier and you don’t have to learn three other languages so as not to offend superiors… But I have to say I am grateful to be able to learn first hand such workings of this amazing culture.

6. Self-reliance and self-help – Nothing instills more confidence in me than when I say I can do it myself. And yet traditional Japanese philosophy professes that ‘amae’ or the dependence on others is a great virtue. Because I lack this amae mindset I’ve come across many instances where I felt as though I were being treated like a child. Also, when hosted by someone you are usually dependent on that person’s ability to sense what you need. Otherwise it’s rude to ask for extra tea or a different kind of snack. In America I would mostly take care of my own meals by myself, but in Japan breakfast, lunch and dinner is provided (deliciously) by my host mother.

7. Competition and free enterprise – Yeah, I guess Japan and America do have some things in common. Business, business, business…

8. Short-term future orientation – Well, you see, before World War II Japan was a very constant country apparently. There was a right way to live, and people lived that way depending on each other and taking care to uphold relationships (social obligation is called ‘giri’) in order to get through nature’s seasons year after year. I suppose that way must have worked all right because Japan has been a country for over 2000 years. In these past decades Japan has changed more rapidly than it ever has in those 2000 years. America doesn’t seem to hesitate to turn the resources into cash quick, and it’s hard to tell Japan’s future since it’s westernizing so fast…

9. Action/work – Nothing I’m afraid of… apparently not Japan either, that is, if you emphasize the WORK part. My interpretation of being productive seems to differ greatly from that of Japan’s. Basically, if you’re not working you’re not being productive. My classmates spend a good amount of their free time at school or studying. My host father works overtime nearly every night. The Japanese don’t have an equivalent to ‘good luck’… instead they say ‘ganbatte’ which means ‘try your best.’ At times I’ve felt this to be a little insensitive, say, if one has a headache from studying too much and a friend says ‘try your best!’ instead of ‘take it easy’ or ‘don’t work too hard, now.’ In truth, ‘ganbatte’ is actually one of the nicest things you could say in such a situation in Japan.

10. Informality – This I tend to miss rather often. The Rotary meetings contrast greatly with that of the American ones I’ve attended. Keigo really does emphasize the level of formality present, putting everyone in their proper place on the social steps. That’s not to say the Japanese can’t be friendly with each other. Showing respect is just an extremely important part of living harmoniously with other Japanese, especially those of outside groups. However, even with my host families I haven’t yet been fully permitted to act completely informal. I wonder if it’s because I’m a foreigner… A foreigner can’t really be Japanese no matter how well they speak the language. Maybe it’s my host family… I’m switching families today, so I’ll be able to learn more about different workings of Japanese households again. I have been able to feel my ‘American’ informality come out with friends and even their family members, though.

11. Directness, Honesty – In Japan there are terms called ‘Honne’ and ‘Tatemae’ which translate as private and public stances/feelings/thoughts. Honne is used mostly with close inside groups while Tatemae is used to hide one’s true feelings in order to ‘keep the peace’ with the group. Directness is often considered as pushy or rude, so the Japanese have many expressions and words that convey ambiguity. Other Japanese are used to communicating with such ambiguity and guessing the true feelings hidden behind the polite mask of their companions, but for foreigners Honne and Tatemae can be quite confusing.

12. Practicality and efficiency – One fascinating difference between Japan and America is the amount of ritual in Japan, formed by the build-up of 2000 years of history. There are so many ceremonies and festivals and events that involve special behavior or actions. For example, Ohina Matsuri is a day to celebrate daughters, and gigantic red stairs of dolls are purchased for thousands of dollars to decorate the household. My host family’s living room was small already, but after we set all of the dolls up, we could barely walk around for 3 weeks! These beautiful monstrosities are certainly expensive and impractical for common Japanese households, but they help make Japanese culture as rich as it is. Without those inefficient, impractical rituals I would have had a much less interesting time here.

13. Materialism – Long ago Japan was a country that enjoyed simplicity, taking what one needed to live comfortably. Today materialism is rapidly becoming more commonplace. I’ve heard that some are displeased as to how sacred ceremonies like flower arranging and serving tea is becoming ritualized practices of the rich. The meditation and meaning is seeping away from Japanese culture as the modern age emphasizes the importance of materialism. There’s no doubt that Japan is westernizing, but there is still so much to this country that makes it so unique from anywhere else in the world. I’m so delighted that I can live in such an age in such a place.

Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t elaborate more on these subjects (I probably could have gone on a few hundred more pages or so) but here is basically a bit of what I’ve learned so far. That’s not to say that this is what I will think about Japan before I head home on that plane. Really, there is just too much to learn in one meager year. But this meager year has sparked so much enthusiasm in me to explore the world. There’s so much that I’ve learned about my own culture as well, looking at it from across the world. The quest for knowledge is so much fun ^_^.

April 25 Journal
 Konnichiwa, minna-san!
During the first week of this month my dad visited me in Japan and let me lead him rather aimlessly around three of Japan’s largest and most famous cities- Osaka, Kyoto, and Tokyo. I had been planning this week-long excursion for months.  Practically on my own, I made all of the necessary reservations for hotels (we stayed at a different place…and kind of place… every night) and transportation (night buses to Osaka and Tokyo) for our travels. Since, of the two of us, I spoke the most Japanese, I was also designated to conduct our fate. Hah, by the end we both well learned what it means to put fate in my hands…

After meeting at Japan’s International Airport on April 1st, we headed to our accommodations in Asakusa, Tokyo — the infamous Japanese capsule hotel. We bought our room tickets ($30 apiece) at a vending machine and headed to our individual capsule bedrooms after a nice bath and sauna. The room was actually spacious enough to be quite comfortable, and each capsule was equipped with its own TV set and radio.

The next day we headed to my host family’s house in Kawaguchi to unload unneeded luggage, played in Shibuya, Tokyo, and went to Shinjuku (still Tokyo) to catch our charter bus to Osaka. We arrived at Shinjuku Station around 7:00 pm (the departure time was 9:30 pm) and made sure we found the right bus spot before enjoying some authentic sea urchin, fish egg and fermented soybean sushi. We returned to the bus spot at 9 pm and asked several official people if we were in the right place. 9:25 rolled around and suspiciously, there was still no bus. At the last moment I asked a police man and he told me that the location I wanted was a 10-minute walk away. At that point a few gallons of adrenaline flooded through my body and I ran with all my might back to where my dad was apprehensively waiting. “Can you run???” I shouted toward him. We’re not going to make it, I thought. I shouted “Wait! We need a taxi!” then jumped in the nearest cab and frenetically instructed the driver as to where he needed to go. Poor dad was at the mercy of a teenage girl moving quickly and frantically speaking Japanese. We made it to the bus terminal where I yelled at a departing bus to stop, then asked the driver `You going to Osaka??`… No, wrong bus. But there were still buses in the terminal! It was a few minutes after 9:30. The cab driver came at me with change and told me to give him a 10 dollar bill to pay him. My mind was on other matters so my body obliged. I ran into the terminal asking “Did the Osaka bus leave already??” The other buses destined for other places had all departed except for one. The bus staff tapped on the last bus before it pulled out and made arrangements for dad and I to meet our Osaka bus in Tokyo Disneyland after riding the last one. All our chances but one had run out, but we made it. We were so gracious.

Around 7:00 am we had arrived in Osaka on April 3rd, my birthday. Until hotel check in time at 3:00 we were weary, homeless vagabonds. We found refuge in a karaoke bar where we belted out nostalgic songs. There my dad found a new love – karaoke. We spent the rest of the day exploring, sleeping, and celebrating my newly acquired adulthood at an okonomiyaki restaurant.

After a couple days in Osaka we took a train on over to Kyoto and checked into a traditional Japanese inn, or ryokan. We were hoping to find some of the well renowned Japanese cherry blossoms, of which there are 3000 kinds. To our dismay, we had arrived a bit early. The temples and gardens we visited would have been twice as breathtaking as they were had the blossoms been out. However, we still fully enjoyed our time in Kyoto, going to a geisha dance performance, a tea ceremony and unique shops.

When we arrived back in Tokyo we spent our time visiting many of the city’s distinct districts. At Tsukiji, the world’s largest fish market, we sampled some squid ink ice cream as well as other interesting varieties of sea life. We found the Ginza district boasting some of the world’s most expensive land (I heard if you folded up a $100 bill as small as you could make it, it wouldn’t be able to buy the space of Ginza land it took up). We were also lucky to experience a cherry blossom viewing festival in Ueno Park, one of the best spots in the country to see cherry blossoms at their best.

Another remarkable episode was the dinner party that my Rotary club had in honor of my dad. We had a fantastic feast at a Chinese restaurant then went with my counselor to the ritziest karaoke bar I’d ever been to! I could tell it was one of the best nights of my dad’s life. He was so appreciative of everyone in my club and most of the people who encountered and helped us on our journey. I feel so lucky to have been able to share part of this precious experience with someone who understands how precious an experience Japan is.

Til next time, sayonara!

Morgan

May 29 Journal
 Well, I suppose everything’s winding down, eh. The last day of my exchange is June 13. Unfortunately, I had to cut my year a bit short on account of my trip to Australia from June 17 to July 13. However, I’ve had such a full, exciting year that I won’t be leaving this country less than completely satisfied. In truth, I’m looking forward to that day at the airport. With all of the characters from my exchange crying and hugging me. At moments like those it’s so easy to feel love; Love for Japan and love from everyone else. My heart will be tearing apart in that terminal but my predominant emotion will be happiness. Being so happy you’re sad, and so sad you’re happy. It’s what makes humans the life of the universe, emotion. I couldn’t imagine a better way for my year to end.
I remember experiencing another exchange student’s last day at the airport. Karen, my good friend from Australia who went to the same high school as me. I could see vivid torment through her tears before she glanced back at all of her friends for the last time. But I was so happy for her. She was perfect for Japan and she had a perfect year. I thought she had a perfect departure day too. Man, one really sighs a lot the last two weeks before the end of such an adventure…

August 9 Journal

For everyone back in the states, and those students that are out witnessing the adventure of a lifetime, I just want you to know that all is well in my first week in Thailand. Guess I will cover all my bases and start from the beginning…although it might only brush upon the surface of my experiences.

The flight was the same as any 24 hour flight… you know how it is, sleep… dinner… read… sleep… breakfast… mid-flight snack… movie… sleep… and no matter how much I tried to prepare myself with the tourist books that my friends/family had bought me, I didn’t realize how different everything would be until I actually arrived in Bangkok. Not only did I find myself alone at the airport, but I had also become the main attraction of various tour guides and taxi drivers. I worked things out with the Rotary director, however, and ended up living like a king at the Ameri-Airport hotel that night. The next day I left at 11am for Phuket.

Thailand has its own unique kind of beauty. Aside from the hundreds and hundreds of stray dogs you see wandering the streets, the mountains and beaches are very different from home, very authentic and beautiful….except for the European men in Speedos.. They have a saying here, it’s sabai sabai (take it easy). This phrase pretty much sums up the attitudes of Thai people, they’re very relaxed and polite. I guess they forget “sabai sabai” when you put them behind a steering wheel haha, because it’s very crazy on the streets. Khun mae (my host mom) always has her thumb ready on the horn, and I laugh whenever she cuts off someone or pushes them into the gutter… it’s like the road lines mean nothing here haha. Khun mae and Khun Phaw are very caring people nonetheless, and they’re always going out of their way to teach me new things about the Thai culture or language.

Not only have I experienced culture shock in this “Land of Smiles”, but I have also experienced a type of independence shock… if there ever was such a thing. My adventures at the airport, finding my way through the streets of Rawai using the little Thai that I knew, and meeting many interesting people along the way have all shaped a more outgoing Jacob Dobbs. Oh, that and my first 2 days of school at Phuket Wittalayai. Believe me, you’ll never feel so important in your life until you have over 3000 students staring at you wherever you go. After all, I AM the token farang (white person) at this school, so I guess I shouldn’t have expected any less. My classmates are great, and though I have yet to completely understand what the teacher is teaching about, they have taught me so much.

And with that, I bid you farewell until my next post. I can only hope that the upcoming year will be as exciting as my first week has been.

August 16 Journal

Sorry to everyone that have been anxiously awaiting news from Phuket..  it was pretty difficult trying to use the internet when the internet uses both the home phone and business lines. I think that it will be much easier to post you all on what’s going on since I now have a Computer class on Tuesdays. Whoo!

I can’t believe it’s already been 2-3 weeks into my stay in Thailand.  Not only have I learned a lot of the language, find a love of tra-kaw  (famous Thai game, kind of like hacky sack), realize that Linkin Park in Thai (Ling gin pak) means monkey eats vegetable, and make many good friends in the process. As my last post showed the scenery of Phuket, this post will show some of my new friends and classmates.

August 12th was the queen’s birthday, and therefore mother’s day. We  wai’ed khun yaa with a ring of jasmine around our hands, and I wrote a  little article about Khun mae (my host mother) in Thai. My host family also had a “welcome home” party for me and Jip, which was really fun. It was awesome, we had SO many family/friends come over, and about 6-7 different  local bands to play for us. Food, dancing, singing, raffles, we had it all.  A bunch of our friends decided to stay up all night, so we hung out until about 6 in the morning, woke up at 7, and had breakfast. Oh, to be a  teenager.

School is going very well also. I’ve been trying my best to catch on to whatever the teacher is teaching, even though sometimes my efforts seem very fruitless. I am still the token “farang” (westerner), but I heard that some other exchange students have just arrived in Thailand. Fresh meat! To answer many of your questions, YES we do have a maid. But all she really does is clean the house and wash clothes. Unfortunately, my bungalow is separate to the house, so all the cleaning that takes place there is done by me. I don’t really have to make my bed, because I hardly ever use  the sheets at night….. its so hot! Sometimes our maid cooks, but I really  prefer khun yaa (grandma’s) cooking. Isn’t it just funny how grandmothers always know best, regardless of what country you’re in?

Well I guess I should get back to preparing a presentation for Rotary.  Talk to you guys later!

September 8 Journal

I suppose my absence from writing is a result of being a “good exchange student”, or just the fact that our computer has yet to be fixed. My first month in Thailand was nothing short of amazing; an experience filled with many different emotions. As I tried my best not to let time pass me by, I soon realized my efforts were thwarted once a few blinks brought me 37 days into my stay in the Land of Smiles… But that is not to say I haven’t tried to make the most of my time here.

Yes, I’ll admit that this culture requires adjustment and change from many of the customs I had grown up with in America; but that just makes every day more of an adventure. Thailand’s eating habits are just like its climate: a meal isn’t delicious unless you’re practically melting on the floor begging for water… and I love it! Drinks aren’t very necessary in meals, however, since I’ve discovered that they only fill you up. And if rice isn’t included in the meal (which almost never happens), I find myself hungry again a few minutes after eating. As a matter of fact, I completely forgot the feeling of hunger, because I constantly eat to “greng jai” the people that offer me food. Greng jai doesn’t really have an English alternate, but it’s kind of like doing something against your own will just to be polite. Funny…
my mentality is turning Thai, but my skin still begs to differ.

School. It is just that, but without the worries. I have been learning English, Thai, Calculus, Biology, Gardening (don’t ask…), Baking, History, Art, Geography, Computers, Muay Thai (thai kickboxing), Judo, Basketball, Buddhism, and French… and every class is in Thai. Keep in mind that I cannot speak any French whatsoever, except for the everyday bonjour/croissant. This doesn’t stop the students or teachers from going out of their way to help me out, which I really appreciate. Students don’t stare at me anymore, they come to talk to me instead… that is if they have time to get away from the hustle and bustle of studying for next week’s entrance exams. The exams mark the end of the semester, so after this week, there’s a six week vacation! Just in case you’re wondering, the first semester started in May.

Rumors have it that I’ll have a total of 4 host families, which is kind of depressing considering how close I’ve gotten to my first one. They’ve taught me so much: painting batik, the joy of bike riding at sunset, how to play the guitar, and how to relax. Sabai sabaiii.. My host father is so wise, he’s my own personal Buddha, and my host mother is so fun to be with. Although she can speak English, she refuses to do so, which has helped me a lot.

I am also very thankful for the pressure Rotary put on its outbounds to learn their target languages. I’ve only formally met one exchange student that came from Brazil, who knows little to no Thai at all. WHERE ARE ALL THE EXCHANGE STUDENTS? My speech for Rotary went very well, and I even created the impression that I had been taking Thai classes before I came!

I hope all is well and everyone is safe from the hurricane back at home.

Thuk khon sawasdee ja.
Jedsadaporn / Jay
Jacob

October 5 Journal

I know how much my adoring fans are eagerly awaiting news from Thailand; sitting on the edge of their seats each time they log onto RYEFlorida’s website. I must say that I am very flattered, and all your anticipation has finally paid off.

This past month has been filled with many ups and downs, all of which have made my stay here more enjoyable. Since school vacation had started, I began to find myself staying home, loathing culture shock, and counting sheep while all my friends studied rigorously for the upcoming entrance exam. It was horrible. Biggest culture shock? Not being able to drive… it finally makes sense to me why Rotary prefers to select its students at such an age: because the majority of the students have yet to feel the glory of being able to drive themselves wherever they want to go. Me? I’m the exception, along with a few others I’m sure.

To tell the truth, I think this homesickness is good for me; it seems like all part of “Rotary’s Master Plan” to make a new and improved Jacob, and now I see why. Days like that made me try to compromise my situation by doing things on my own, such as taking a bus to town or the beach just to recognize what lies beyond the tourist areas. Without the bad days, I wouldn’t truly appreciate those really good days as much as I do now. Days like this past week, where my host father decided to get away from it all and backpack to other cities/islands. Yes, our bus got in an accident with a motorcycle, and yes, I had been swarmed by a pack of ladyboys when I arrived (both of which probably had something to do with a bad luck fortune that I got from a Chinese temple the previous day), but these things only added to the adventure that I had experienced. You have no idea how beautiful some of the landscape is until you see it for yourself. My host father, being an artist, suggested that I take up sketching as a hobby to do in my free time… and although I’m nowhere near half as good as he is, I realize that this method makes remembering every detail of a place so much easier than merely taking a picture with a camera. Who is this young ambassador, and what did he do with Jacob, you ask? Don’t worry, I’m still Jacob, I just eat, sleep, and breathe Thai at the moment.

Speaking of Thai, I believe my Thai has been coming along very well lately. Even though I have yet to understand the daily ramblings my family makes at the dinner table, I practice by taking out target words that I understand and trying to form sentences… sometimes mistaking the sentence “The news said that there is another very bad hurricane in Florida” with “Your knee is talking again. Bad knee, go back to Florida.” Oh well, at least I try.

So what’s the plan for October? Rotary Orientation, Phuket’s famous “Vegetarian festival” in which people pierce their bodies with poles/walk on hot coals/climb a ladder of knives after claiming that they were possessed by spirits…. This month will be an interesting one, I’ll give you that much.

October 24 Journal

As I had predicted, the second half of October left no room for boredom. Rotary orientation, Gin je (Vegetarian festival), Phuket Fantasea, canoe trips across Phang nga bay, “English camp” counselor; it might be a little difficult to get back in the routine of school next week. But then again, I have barely been able to see all my friends in these past 5 weeks, and therefore my Thai hasn’t been improving as rapidly as it had in the first couple of months. That’s not to say that it hasn’t been improving! I actually had a very interesting experience while watching the movie “Walking Tall” with my host sister the other day. The movie was in English with Thai subtitles, but since I hadn’t heard English spoken so fast in months, trying to follow it gave me a big headache. The result? Surprisingly, I found myself reading the Thai script from time to time to understand what a person was saying.

The Rotary orientation was very exciting as well. True, I arrived about 30 minutes late due to being stuck behind a bike rally half way to Phang nga, but I soon realized that I didn’t miss much when the counselor began teaching the exchange students how to say “Hello” and “I’m hungry” in Thai. I couldn’t believe my eyes. All along I had been anticipating 4-5 minute speeches in Thai, and some students still don’t know how to say “Hello”?!

…Excellent…
Just like the orientations back in Florida (well not JUST like, this one didn’t have an accessible kitchen, haha you guys know I’m talking about), it seemed very easy for the exchange students to bond, and even get a few pins to fill up their jackets in the process. We roamed the town like kings that night, basically spending our time waiting for a tuk tuk (small taxi) that was willing to carry about 15 people. Although “tuk tuk” means “very cheap” in English, I’d suggest never taking one in the tourist areas of Phuket… which is pretty much everywhere in Phuket… therefore never consider taking one! It was OK traveling by tuk tuk in Surat Thani with everyone else, but I’ve discovered that Phuket is the most expensive city in Thailand (even though it is still very cheap compared to America). I fear that my return to America will bring about a new type of culture shock: adjusting to its prices once again. However, I’ve observed that workers in Thailand would jump at the chance to have a job of about 5 dollars a day (from dawn to dusk), so the economy pretty much balances out.

The canoe trip to Phang nga bay was one of many that the SEA tours company provides to tourists, and I got in free as a tour guide! I had a great time exploring caves and the beautiful landscape of “Unseen Thailand”, while the tourists were astonished that a young foreigner could speak Thai, in their words: “a language that people normally don’t care to study around the world”. Well, guess that means that I’m not normal.

My friend’s mother was the host of an “English camp” for about a week. Funny thing was, the camp pretty much had nothing to do with English at all. Elementary school students were taught how to play certain games like Goh and monkey in the middle, how natural disasters are formed, how an airplane works, and much more. Some of the students actually introduced me to their parents, who then gave me discounts on various businesses that they own. I am very thankful to be part of the “Gold mine” named Rotary. By meeting new people, I am introduced to new people; and before I know it, I will have contacts all over Thailand.

And now, the moment you all have been waiting for… news from the Vegetarian festival. In the Gin Je festival, I endured 9 days of NO
1. Meat/eggs/milk
2. Gambling
3. Alcohol
4. Sex
5. Drugs

You guys have no idea how hard it is to be a vegetarian in Thailand, the food is so delicious! Sometimes I think that that’s exactly the reason why this festival puts people to the test, because there’s so many temptations wherever you go. But actually, the festival was introduced by China, and focuses on cleansing the body of impurities and evil. Some of the Thai people believe that the spirits of gods enter their bodies and force them to perform Ma Song (basically self mortification). People can be seen climbing a ladder of knives, walking on hot coals, piercing their mouths with various objects (as seen in the pictures below). The majority of Phuket’s population and I, however, just settle with wearing all white for 9 days. I mean… wouldn’t you?

Next month I leave for my next host family. Ahh, I’m going to miss calling my host sister fat… I’m going to miss those late night conversations with my host dad… and most of all, I’m going to miss the Patonko (like Chinese donuts) shop in front of my house. It will be homesickness all over again, but all for the better I suppose.

Thuk khon laa kawn na krup. Sanyaa wa phom ja khian iik deuan naa.
-Jed (pronounced jade -> J.D.)

December 7 Journal

Another month, and I have returned from yet another adventure that will assuredly change my outlook on life. For starters, Rotary decided to give its students a break from all their rigorous studying in an 11 day northern tour of Thailand (November 23rd-December 4th). On this tour, we visited many interesting temples and monuments in cities like Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Pha Yao, Khao Yai, Sukothai, Lopburi, etc. I was even fortunate enough to see the Golden Triangle of Myanmar/Laos/Thailand, which was bordered by the Mae Khong and Ruak Rivers! I also got to ride elephants in two different hill tribe villages; even though I’m pretty sure my first elephant was intent on making it my last ride. In response to the frequent questions, YES, I did get to see elephants play soccer/basketball. And no, there was no cheating involved…. just good clean (not literally) elephant fun.

I didn’t realize that living thousands of miles from the ones I love would allow me to learn so much. Sure, learning the language and culture is a must, but even the little things that catch me from day to day are bonuses that I am very thankful for. Speaking of gratitude, Thanksgiving Day was a very interesting change from what I had grown to know and love back in the states. Holiday Homesickness (HH), a common disease that normally attacks YE’s for about a day or two, was now affecting me. Quite understandably though; I mean, who wouldn’t miss a meal composed of a plump turkey, stuffing, various types of pie, grandma’s famous casserole, cranberry sauce, and all the other joys that are fit to keep a young boy satisfied until Christmas?! The Americans did their best to relive and demonstrate the Thanksgiving dinner to the other students by throwing together an old box of pumpkin pie mix, however. We replaced the turkey with a fish, stuffing with Thai chili, and grandma’s famous casserole with a dish that nobody could describe. Lo and behold, I have survived this lethal condition called HH and now move on to the rest of our trip.

If any of you ever said that Thailand never gets cold, I would have instinctively agreed with you a few weeks ago. But times change, my friends, and much to my surprise, so does the weather in this great oven. I had first made this realization while in the mountains of Khao Yai, unfortunately after disregarding the tour guide’s suggestion to bring a warm jacket/sweater. After all, the tour guide WAS Thai, and the Thai definition of ‘cold’ is completely different from that of America… right? …Hah… The problem with this type of thinking lied in the fact that I am from Florida, a state that hasn’t seen snow for nearly 14 years. I learned my lesson though, and bought a jacket for about $3… Argh, do I really have to sacrifice my health for 130 baht?! I could buy 6 cd’s or pay for a large family dinner with that much!

As you may or may not have noticed, my attitude towards money has also been spoiled by the Thai economy. Ironically enough, this attitude is coming from someone who lives in Phuket, the most expensive city in the Thailand. Bargaining is another addiction that I have seemed to add to my daily routine… because no matter how cheap something is, I always feel like I’m being ripped off in one way or another. The key to good bargaining is to always refer to how cheap the same item is at another shop, and if that doesn’t work, act uninterested and walk in another direction. This way, guys can actually enjoy shopping; much like a game of wits, the goal is to see how much you can make the opponent sweat.

I would have never expected my 4 years of high school Spanish to be put to test in a place like Thailand. Our district has nearly as many Brazilians as Americans, and since Portuguese is very similar to Spanish, the Mexicans decided that they would speak their native tongue throughout the trip. Crazy Mexican kids…. I can only imagine how a whole country of them is treating Danny, but I’m sure he’s fitting in just fine. Speaking of crazy Mexicans, I had an experience the other day that is totally irrelevant to Mexico. As I gave a speech to an all-girls’ school with 3 of my YE friends, I realized that every country that I requested in my Rotary application was being represented there with me. The three were from Brazil, Japan, and Germany; all situated in Thailand. It was more like a message than mere coincidence, because it truly helped me appreciate where I ended up. Every culture that I wanted to experience had been with me all along; I just needed to open my eyes the way Rotary encouraged me to do. Unlike the other exchange students, my return to Phuket brought no frost that glistened on the window sill and no crisp autumn leaves that begged for freedom from the branch. It was strange, because I didn’t know whether to feel happy or depressed. True, I had returned to my oven, but I couldn’t be happier to sleep in my own room once again. The fact that I’m getting another 6 day holiday from school is just another bonus… no bargaining required.

On that note, I leave you all with another few weeks of eager anticipation.

Sawasdee jaa~

December 29 Journal

(Note: Living in Phuket, one of the areas hit hardest by the Asian tsunami, Jacob is safe. In a front-page story in the Florida Times-Union, Jacob reported that he was fortunate to sleep through the earthquake shock and to be on higher ground when the tsunami hit the beaches.)

I assure you, my fellow readers, that this report was definitely intended to get you off those ‘pins and needles’. As many of you might have heard (hopefully), District 6970 Asia was recently hit by a 9.0-magnitude earthquake, and the result has been nothing short of devastating… and I have been fortunate enough to participate in the relief effort of this situation. First of all, I will try my best to clear up some of the ambiguous details in the newspaper article about my experiences:

My mother’s name is Deborah, not Janet. I don’t even think I’m related to anyone named Janet…and if I am, I apologize.

I also feel bad that I won’t be including any of the other interesting experiences that I had this month, but at this point I’m sure it can wait. The story all begins with a 1-month plan by the exchange students (District 3330) to spend Christmas together in the south of Thailand. We went through a few votes of places that would be nice to spend our religious holiday together, and after deciding between the top-two tourist destinations at that time of year (Phuket and Koh Samui), we decided that Phuket would probably be our best choice. Quite understandable though, since Phuket is one of the most desired tourist destinations in all of Asia… although now I guess I’ll have to get used to telling others that it used to be one the most desired tourist destinations in all of Asia.

When we presented this idea to Rotary, however, they said that they weren’t going to allow us to get together. I knew that Christmas wasn’t a celebrated holiday in Thailand, but the fact that Rotary didn’t want us to spend time together at such an event frustrated the students very much. School had been busy for testing, and none of our host families had plans for that weekend; it seemed like a perfect way to be able to see each other! The reasoning behind Rotary’s decision was not only the fact that they didn’t want to be responsible for such a large group of people, but also because they thought they could provide us with all the same enjoyment of being together in our “Southern Tour” that would take place this February. As rebellious exchange students, we tried to crawl through every loophole we could find to avoid getting Rotary sued if something bad did happen. We retrieved official statements from our schools acknowledging this little trip, made a full schedule of events that didn’t involve our host families in the weekend, and we even got our real parents to sign permission slips. Since we couldn’t involve our host families, we had tents donated and arranged to spend our few nights camping on Naiharn beach. We were one determined group of YE’s. A few days before Christmas, Rotary finally beat us at our game and convinced the host families not to allow their students to get involved with the trip at all. Christmas night was the night that we planned to sleep there, and the next morning a 9.0 magnitude earthquake hit at about 7. Every shop and resort on Naiharn beach is now in pieces.

The story behind sleeping through my alarm clock came from a plan that I had on surprising my first host family with a few Christmas gifts after my host mom had returned from her aerobics class. The clock was set at 7:45am, but I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to get up that early on a weekend. Now, as I write this report, the death toll climbs to about 70,000. I have been trying my best to take advantage of the situation that I was put in, especially since so many families and local people were not as lucky as I had been in those “coincidences”. Yesterday I spent the entire day at City Hall, where over 30 representatives of Embassies from around the world tried to help the victims fix their passport/money problems and send them straight to Bangkok. The area was filled with boards of fliers with the faces of missing loved ones, and a large hospital board posted pictures of people that were too mangled to recognize. I was an English – Spanish – Thai translator for the tourists, basically escorting people through the whole process of getting enough paperwork done to get sent back to their countries. The biggest problem we have at this point is transporting the dead bodies out of Phuket, since it has started to become such a big sanitation problem… I would have never imagined being haunted by this tragedy 24/7, because even when I go to bed I have to woo myself to sleep with the sound of nearby factories making plywood coffins for all the victims. Is this what Rotary meant when they said that this will be a year that I’ll never forget? Either way, this is reality. I visited Patong beach today in shock of how such a bustling tourist spot, always lined with shops and lit with bright lights, could be left in ruins. I am happy to announce that Phuket is doing pretty well for itself at this point in time, since they have been receiving so many volunteers and donations. Tomorrow I will travel outside of Phuket to see if they need volunteers in Phang nga.

P.S. Somehow I doubt that there will be a “Southern Tour” this year.

Please keep the victims, as well as their families, in your thoughts/prayers. Korp koon mahk krup

January 7 Journal

On a report dated January 6, 2005, CNN has confirmed that the undersea earthquake off Sumatra and the giant waves it triggered killed 155,872 people, and that number is expected to rise.

It’s unbelievable how the death toll has continued to rise so quickly in the past few weeks, but another major concern in the area is actually identifying the bodies of lost/loved ones. The fliers that line the boards of city hall only continue to grow… and sadly, about 30% of these fliers are searching for lost children. My job as a translator only lasted about half a week, since Phuket had a pretty straightforward way of sending the tourists to the Bangkok airport to go home. I visited Phang nga and Khao Luk to help transport donations, cringing at the site of hundreds of coffins that lined nearby temples. The smell literally burned in our throats as we passed the temples and hospitals; a burn that not even our masks could restrain. As I handed out bags of rice, my body also burned as some of the poor tsunami victims smelled my arms and hugged me enthusiastically. It wasn’t a painful burn, just a strong warmth inside. I was even startled to find that people were rubbing my hands on their arms for good luck. I didn’t know how exactly to react, but I just carried on happy that I was actually making a difference in these peoples’ lives.

Phuket’s recovery has been amazing; not only because of all the volunteers that are coming to help, but also because of the large amount of donations. We brought up the idea of receiving donations from the club in Florida, and the members of District 3330 heartily agreed by setting up an account that you guys can deposit money into (will give account information soon). They also thought it would be better to invest the money in a long-term project like providing shelters for orphaned children… but they’re still not exactly sure yet.

I would just like to thank you guys for all your concern and prayers, because they have definitely helped. Although we didn’t celebrate New Year’s, I really appreciated being able to hear from all the exchange students back in Jacksonville. It REALLY made my day!

That’s all for now – Jacob

January 25 Journal

I have finally returned from another long quest to help with the tsunami relief effort in Khao Luk. After leaving Phuket with my friend’s family, we ended up at a Nature Resort that lied a few hundred meters from the destruction of 12/26’s path. What made this resort unique was not only the fact that it was still standing, but also the fact that the manager had contributed his entire resort as a site for volunteer relief efforts. We spent a few days on the computer, updating our website and translating autopsy reports on Microsoft Excel. Some reports were vague, and some were very disturbing; I found that my most productive method was to work fast enough so that I could avoid thinking about what I was actually describing. True, I could no longer smell the bodies from the temple, but the stench of death seemed to find its way into our computers that day.

Other than translating the reports, I was also given the job of painting the resort to make a “presentable” relief center. Day by day, our building began to look like an official center for support. We had computers lined at desks, lodging, organized meetings, a website, and donated meals. One of our meetings even settled on creating a museum to commemorate those who died on the day after Christmas of 2004.

There have been many extraordinary stories of survivals and rescues, but I’d have to say that the most amazing is seeing what everyone here has come together to do. These stories start to become reality as foreigners fly themselves from other sides of the world just to lend a hand, and as survivors risk death once again just to collect the bodies of injured victims. My story isn’t so extraordinary: I was just fortunate enough to be in a certain place at a certain time, and I have tried my best not take it for granted. It also goes without saying that I would have never been here in the first place if it weren’t for Rotary’s decision to send me into a culture and life that I once knew nothing about. Going into such an unknown has made me grow in ways that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of 5-6 months ago.

As for events at home, life in Phuket is finally starting to become “normal” once again. Our basketball team is doing pretty good, and we even have a big tournament coming up this week. Lately I also seem to be getting excited whenever the teacher gives us homework, which isn’t too “normal” if you ask me… but I’m sure that will fade once I get more activities in my schedule.

I hope everyone is well, and be sure to tell me how crazy things are in Jacksonville during the Superbowl next month! Pii nii gaw koh hai tuuk khon mii kwaam suk mahk na krup.

-Jacob

(Editor’s note: In early February, Rotary International published a feature story on Jacob and his efforts to help in the recovery.)

March 1 Journal

I really must apologize from my absence on the “New posts” list, but it just seems like life in Thailand hasn’t been very predictable lately. But alas, I still do my best to adapt to new situations and make the most out of what this exchange year throws at me. Speaking of which, I have already crossed the halfway point of my exchange, and it’s only a matter of how long the clock will taunt me between now and the time I actually arrive back in the states. It’s true that I believe time has once again slipped by unnoticed, but I also believe that much of my time here has been well spent. I’ve learned a new way of thinking, met a group of wonderful friends who share the same experiences that I have, I even picked up a language that I never even dreamed of learning before I began this exchange. But here I am, 4 months away from stepping into foreign territory once again.

Since a large portion of the Thai population is of Chinese decent, the Chinese New Year on the 8th of February was a very important event. (Notice that I involuntarily rhyme when I don’t use English for an extended amount of time.) The President of my host club invited me to spend the week in Bangkok with his family, and also told me that I would be staying at his sister’s/Canadian brother-in-law’s house. Bangkok… a city that I had been dying to visit… And being the independence-craving teenager that I am, I happily accepted the invitation and looked forward to leaving my daily routine in Phuket. But there’s always the catch. I soon realized that moments of extreme joy are also priced with moments of reflection; and as I looked down on Phuket’s mountains from the plane, I understood that I would be seeing much of the same rolling hills and wonderful islands on my way home in June. I twiddled my fingers for a few minutes and glanced at the papers that the guy next to me was reading to distract myself. Funny, the papers were autopsy reports… made on Excel.

Bangkok is an amazing city. True, it IS just as large and hectic as the books say, but it felt much more different when coming from a life that had been spent in another province for so long. My glance of Bangkok from July 28th 2004 suddenly became nothing, since everything about Thailand had been new to me at the time. In my new encounter with “The City of Angels”… I couldn’t help but get the impression that I was in another world altogether. It felt like I was in New York City or Tokyo, not that I’ve ever had the pleasure of traveling to either. Instead of seeing the red-necked tourists and Thai shopkeepers that attempted flattery with broken English, I met businessmen from all around the world and Thai students that spoke almost flawless English. It was incredible; I was sharing the same awe that a young Thai boy from the countryside would feel (even though Phuket is nowhere near being part of the countryside, you’d get the impression that it is once you step foot in Bangkok). People back in Phuket would try to discourage me by criticizing the traffic, congestion, and pollution in the city… but I didn’t care, and my short time in BKK grew on me very quickly. What teenager wouldn’t enjoy riding sky trains and visiting dozens of unique shopping malls? I had only hoped that I went with a few friends, because it seemed nearly impossible to enter and exit through the same doors of these enormous buildings.

The family that I stayed with was very interesting and kind. Their daughter had been going to a Thai school her entire life, and she was currently enrolled in an international program at the top university of Thailand. It was very strange for me to be able to have a normal conversation with a Thai person in English, as she mentioned that it was strange to speak Thai to a foreigner. I suppose she got a lot of her experience from her step father, who was from Canada and had lived in Thailand for nearly 10 years. I also felt very awkward eating an all-American dinner of pork chops, mixed vegetables, and mashed potatoes with a fork and knife… as opposed to Thai’s spoon and fork. Don’t worry, hopefully I can get the whole fork and knife thing down before I return home. Before leaving for Phuket, I took a tour of the Grand Palace and saw the Emerald Buddha, which was very beautiful. We also had a small road trip to Ayuthaya; Thailand’s original capital.

Valentine’s Day was filled with just as many roses and candy as you’d see at school in the U.S. Unfortunately, the chocolate wouldn’t be able to last more than 20 minutes in Phuket’s heat, so I decided that I would buy a few roses for my friends. Knowing that all the other girls in my class would probably be angry with me if I left them out, I dug into my wallet and bought about 20 roses. 20 roses… 20 girls… 8 ladyboys. Never forget the ladyboys.

Seeing that I will be leaving for my third family next week, I wanted to treat my family to an American feast; cooked by yours truly. It was pretty difficult finding exactly what I wanted to make, but I finally came out making a steak/salad/baked potato/bread roll/ brownie dinner. Not only did the family survive my cooking, but they actually enjoyed it very much! Hopefully I can learn to cook as much Thai food as I can before I go back to Florida, but I’m not promising the same satisfaction… or survival.

I hope all the exchange students are doing well and getting something from their year! Will try to get more pictures posted after I fix a format error on my camera…

Wasdee ja ~ Jacob

May 17 Journal

One month. In one month, I will be forcing myself to do what I had been preparing for in the month of July, 2004. I have run the episode in my mind more than a thousand times; the feeling of anxiety mixed with a hope that the life I left back in the states didn’t change too much. Hah, too much. In this culture, I’ve learned to keep the Thai translation of “too much” unsaid. After all, it doesn’t do much good when people think you are restraining just to be considerate to their wallets. Sometimes you need to learn to just smile and say “Yes, I’d like another spoonful of rice”. You all remember the term ‘Greng Jai’ that I’ve mentioned before, right? Funny how I’ve come to understand such a concept that had been so foreign to me when I first arrived in Thailand. Greng Jai becomes so complicated to the foreign mind that books have even been made to help others understand what Greng Jai truly means… because a one word-translation is definitely not enough. To clear up my previous interpretation of “Greng Jai”, I’ve also seen that it becomes a constant struggle to show others that you are doing your best to be considerate to their feelings… even if it’s not something you necessarily want to do. If you want to borrow someone else’s car for a trip, for instance, they are bound by Greng Jai to give it to you. Sounds pretty easy to take advantage of, eh? Unfortunately, such an action is not so easily accomplished, because in knowing that the owner is bound to lend his car to you, you must respect his feelings by not asking at all. So how can you go on that trip that you’ve been looking forward to for so long? It is up to the owner to sense that you need a car (without questions asked, mind you), and then unwillingly offer to lend you the car for the weekend. Of course, that’s not always the case, because most people are happy to help if they can. Just know that you are once again bound by Greng Jai to turn down his offer until he goes insane and throws his keys at you. Confused? Good. Now read on to see what’s been going on on my side of the world.

In the beginning of last month I was gratefully accepted into my third and final host family’s home. The family is very kind, and has introduced me to the change of having 3 younger host brothers. Needless to say, I have definitely been getting the whole “warm family feeling” from this home, and being looked up on by these crazy guys has ironically matured me very much (it’s funny because I must lower my maturity whenever we’re together). I have been getting very fit as well, because not only do I spend some time at the gym, but my new family also takes me to a nearby pool every night to help their sons lose weight. I have been doing my best to prepare for my trip back to America, but it seems so hard when there’s such a long list of things to do and people to satisfy. I’m very excited to see my family and friends, don’t get me wrong, but going back to America also means being pushed into the routine of “life” once again. I suppose I should just take the advice that I gave to the Thai outbounds at a recent orientation: “You’ll never be completely prepared for this, that’s what makes it such an adventure”… just need to close my eyes and jump into this thing called “life” headfirst.

The Thai Songkran Festival, or Thai Traditional New Year, is a 3-day celebration that lasts for 3 days (April 13-April 15). The new year was situated at this time because it also represents the period that the sun changes its position on the zodiac, as the word Songkran means “to change place”. To wash off bad luck and start anew, people from all over come join the celebration and throw water on each other, using things ranging from squirt guns to large ice-cold buckets of water. Yes, it’s just one big water fight… I did mention that every experience in Thailand has made me mature very much, didn’t I? If so, forget what I said. I spent this wonderful holiday on the streets of Bangkok, where it’s nearly impossible to take two steps without being soaked and having white clay all over your face. And to tell the truth, I don’t think I could be happier to be completely soaked with ice-cold buckets of water after enduring the hottest and driest month of the year. If there’s one thing that I will have the hardest time getting over in America, this would be it. And the food. And the friends. And the prices. And the culture. And the Greng Jai.

Another great highlight of last month was my Japanese host family’s visit to Phuket. I couldn’t believe that its been 4 years since I was an exchange student to Oosaka (haha that one’s for Chandler), which inspired the need to spend hours on end to try to make their trip perfect. Unfortunately for me, my host mother couldn’t speak any English and I also had to find time to revive what I slowly lost in these past 4 years… good thing my host sister could still speak English reasonably well. After 3 days of shopping, beach, Phuket Fantasea, shopping, elephant riding, Sea canoeing at Phang Nga cape, shopping, temples, and sunset views at Laem Promthep, I was pretty sure that I could spend the next week buried in my pillows. Women and their shopping… always the same no matter what culture you’re in. On the third day, though, I had to send them off. If you think it’s hard saying goodbye to your families the first time, try doing it twice. I just hope that we will be able to spend more time together next time fate brings me to Asia.

Even though I know you really want to read more, and should feel bound to being considerate to such a desire, I’m going to have to let go of you guys this time. After all, I WILL be going back to America, so I need to practice on my past approach to such a feeling.

IT’S JUST TOO MUCH. And remember, if you are absolutely sure that you can’t take anymore, roll on the floor while gripping your stomach and gasping for air… that should get their attention.

Laew jer gun mai na.

June 20 Journal

The last two weeks of my exchange year were quite different than I had imagined; a series of episodes that will most likely drive me insane while serving as a good source for an adventure novel. Then again, my entire year as an exchange student was filled with experiences that no single book could contain. So how does one finish a report of such unexpected and life-changing experiences?

A long anticipated guest also arrived in the last two weeks of my exchange, giving me the realization that life in Phuket would always be synonymous with the role as a tour guide. This guest needed special attention, however, because not only was he my brother, but it also seemed like his trip to Japan made him very… thrifty. Thai people would call this a case of nak tawng tiaw thii kii niaw mahk mahk lery, or the “extremely cheap tourist syndrome”. Being the evil person that I was, I also looked forward to my older brother visiting “my territory” and having to succumb to my every demand… that, and the fact I just missed him so darn much. Unfortunately, the rainy season killed a lot of our opportunities for fun, but we tried to make the best of our time together before I had to make my long journey home and he had to make his back to Japan. This included elephant riding, ox-cart riding, Thai kickboxing, Thai cooking, elephant/monkey shows, canoe trips, and my personal favorite: “beach bumming”. I even got to brush up on my unbroken English-speaking skills! My brother’s visit had also brought about the realization that I had become so familiar with Thai that listening to people talk to me was as involuntary as with English. In a sense, it came to me as English, because I had never reached such a comfort level with another language in my life. So when my brother didn’t understand what my family or friends were saying to him, I felt confused and had to bring myself back to the young exchange student that I was a year ago: viewing Thai as just one of those crazy-sounding tonal languages that seem impossible to learn, like Chinese. The truth is, languages sound much more different when you begin to understand what a person is saying. You might think that this type of feeling is obvious, but even listening to the flow of the Thai language seems more different than it had a year ago.

My brother’s leave marked the point of preparing for my own leave, which meant saying goodbye to all the friends and family that I had come to know and love. I gathered my things, handed out a few souvenirs that I had saved from the states, enjoyed eating my last ice cream with my friend Shoko (the other exchange student from Phuket), and left for the airport with my third host father. I just couldn’t let myself accept the fact that I was leaving until I actually arrived in the Tokyo/Detroit airports. I saw the cultures gradually change back to my own as I passed through terminals, from tourist agencies swarming you in Bangkok to metal detector staff politely asking “May I have permission to please search you?” in Tokyo to the high-security hustle and bustle of Detroit. It was culture shock all over again, and I felt so foreign to my old home.

I wish I could give a more detailed account of my re-entry into the states, but I’m afraid that the stories would take just as long for you to read as it did for me to experience. All in all, my near 24 hour flight back to Jacksonville was welcomed by groups of family and friends dying to take me to ‘Dennys’ and torture me with their high-speed English conversations. Of course change was obvious since Jacksonville has been the center for change in the past year, but it makes living everyday more of an adventure.

I can never thank Rotary enough for everything they’ve given me in this year abroad, but I will try my best by using what I’ve learned and continuing to provide service to the communities around me. This exchange year has truly been a defining stage of my life, and none of it would have been possible without a Rotary club like West Jacksonville and District 6970. You guys didn’t help me find myself or unleash hidden potential, because I already knew who I was before I left for Thailand (although I wasn’t too sure of what I’d become). You did, however, give me an opportunity to define a new outlook on life and to have deeper insight into my future… and for that, I will always be grateful.

As for my readers, thank you for all the support and patience you’ve given while I was in Thailand. But if you REALLY want to hear more…

Puak khun ja tawng ahn nung seu… doy farang khon nii.

October 2 Journal

I’m in Yakutsk now. So far Russia is incredible. My host family has a dacha, which is like a summer house, and they have a green house there so we spent a day picking tomatoes and peppers. Also, there is no plumbing in the dacha, so of course they have a spectacular outhouse. I think there must be some rule about having wide holes in the outhouse because it is enormous. It could easily swallow me whole.

I also spent two days in Vladivostok because I had a layover. It’s a much more interesting city than Jacksonville. But the mood was somber because of the separatists that seized the school. During the long plane flight I finished reading a book called The Unquiet Ghost by Adam Hochschild. It’s about the era of Stalin. One of the more interesting points that the book makes is that people miss Stalin, of which I was unaware. But, from what I’ve found out it is true that many people, generally older, miss Stalin because he “kept order” and “won the war.” The younger generations though do not miss Stalin.

So far, my most western experience was a trip to the Yakutsk bowling alley. I was really surprised to see that this bustling city of 200,000 people was home to a two story bowling alley. The bottom story is for regular bowling and the top story is for cosmic bowling. When I got my bowling shoes I think I was a size 44. But, the best part about the bowling was the food. There was a large ornate menu of gourmet food. I had tomatoes stuffed with different spices and fish. My friends had ice cream and a couple of them ordered beer form the full bar that was loaded with many different kinds of liquor. I was extremely surprised that a waiter came to our lane to take our order. After bowling the five us went to the billiard room and played pool for an hour. There was a table next us where two couples were playing, but I think they didn’t know the rules since they weren’t even using the white ball. And my friends agreed.

I’ve been a visitor at three different English classes now and they generally ask the same questions, “How do you like Yakutsk?”, “What do you think of Putin?”, “What do you think of the war?”, “Do you like Russian girls?” That last one really was a question.

It has just started snowing here but the weather isn’t too cold. I am enjoying it so far. Although the walk to school is difficult on ice. One experience I had while walking home was quite interesting as I always pass a little cafe just before Lenin Square. It is sort of upscale and there are always many people sitting outside chewing bread and sipping tea or beer. Lately though there have been fewer people as the temperatures are getting close to 35 degrees Fahrenheit. But as I was walking past this day I was surprised to see a larger crowd than usual. I was even more surprised to see that there was a group of people dancing where they had pushed some tables aside to clear room for a dance floor. Then, I heard a familiar eighties beat faintly in the background and then “can’t touch this.” I had to at least pause a few moments to take in this scene of Russians dancing to MC Hammer. Russia has indeed held a few surprises with musical taste. I was at a Rotary meeting with about eight older people and we were eating dinner and they were discussing some business in Russian, thus I was completely oblivious. But, I certainly recognized the sounds of “this will be the day that I die. This will be the day that I die. Bye bye Miss American pie…” The song was completely wrong for the occasion but did make it all pretty amusing.

I’m getting used to the language. It is much harder than English and everyone I’ve met agrees with me. But there is still a lot of pointing and gesturing to get some points across. I’m not even sure that I can describe the food. It is all delicious. There are many kinds of soups and breads and a ton of tea, which Russia is of course known for having. In addition to this there is a plentiful amount of fruit, and one of the best dishes I’ve had is Russian pizza. It’s beyond me to describe it, except that I could eat it constantly. I was also happy to see that my family grows their own spices at their Dacha. Even their dog, a German Shepard, stops and munches on the peppermint leaves.

I have one pretty strange story that I’ve yet to comprehend. I flew from America to Korea and then to Vladivostok where I had a layover for two days. I suppose there aren’t many flights to Yakutsk. So, for these two days I stayed in a flat with a short, stout woman named Zina, pronounced like Xena, the Warrior Princess. She was a newly retired school teacher and helped me a lot with my Russian. The entire time I stayed with her she was very hospitable and always cooked large, scrumptious meals. I was never able to finish any one meal in its entirety. And, my opinion of Zina is still of a high standard but this story is just strange.

I had stayed my two nights and it was finally time for me to take my last flight to Yakutsk. I packed my bags and was standing at the door when ZIna came behind me and began turning various knobs on different locks. Zina’s door had quite an intricate pattern of locks that I couldn’t begin to understand and so I let her at her work. For some reason when she tried to push the door open it refused and stood its ground. She went back to turning knobs but to no avail. Then, what I thought was a rather quick decision, she left and returned with a hammer and two pieces of flat metal.

She picked one of the bolted locks and began pounding away with all the force her small stature could manage. I was astounded. I didn’t know what to do. My means of communication were still not well off and I didn’t know how to offer to help, and besides that I didn’t want to be responsible for breaking anything. Then she left again after the hammer failed and returned with a metal pipe. She took one of the wedges of steel and put it in the crevice of the door and started hammering away. This didn’t work either.

By this time the people who were supposed to take me to the airport had arrived and were standing outside of the door. I have no idea what they must have thought was happening inside. Zina turned and handed me the tools and left. So, I went to work with the door. I started to think that I really might not get out, since we were on the tenth floor there was no window option. After ten to fifteen minutes of our abusing the door it certainly had the look as if someone were trying to break out from the inside as it was chipped and indented with imprints from the hammer. Then, Zina pulled out a key and messed with a couple of locks and the door opened.

I still am not sure if all of our pounding had anything to do with it or if she simply neglected to unlock one of the many bolts. Either way, I was finally out.

November 6 Journal

Last month I and a few other university students saw Romeo and Juliet in this regions native Yakutian language. Unfortunately that didn’t make it much more exciting. But the directors “interpretation” of the play provided some variation as there was a lot of skating, pop music, and a fumigation scene in which a character used a fog machine as a pesticide. When the play ended the audience applauded in rhythm. I think it is sad that this Siberian town of 200,000 people has six theatres and more culture than Jacksonville.

After the play ended our group of five went to a nearby café. We were constantly being watched since we also represented five different countries. After all, one foreigner in Yakutsk is unreal enough but five means we must have been banished here. We ate wraps of beef and drank juice. Then we saw a big group of Russians getting drunk and one of them yelled that if you don’t look everyone in the eye when you toast then you have seven years of bad sex. I’m not yet sure if this is a Russian axiom or not. Before we left I played air hockey against a Polish student. The handles or paddles, however they’re termed, were made of wood and about five times the size of our puny plastic American ones. It really was a barbaric game of air-hockey but I was victorious.

Let me tell you about a day that was by far the most disgusting day I’ve had in Yakutsk. I was taken from my home by a group of three Russians that will be my next host family to visit their friends’ Dacha. When we were there the father made me do a lot of pointless chores so he could take my picture in different poses. Then, the ultimate chore came. In the shed there were six sides of horse sealed in plastic bags. They carried out the meat and started axing away at the bones to release the meat. Then the father wanted me to take a few swings for a good picture. But the ax was futile so they brought out a chainsaw and finished the job that way. There wasn’t any blood though because it was all frozen. The friend did eat some of the horse meat raw which is apparently a normal eating habit to prevent tuberculosis. Then the father gave me a bag with chucks of horse as a present.

I’m afraid I might have to shave my moustache because when I’m outside my hot breath causes water to condense and freeze on the hair.

It was last Friday when I began my usual walk to school down the bustling street of Prospect Lenin. As always I was inhaling a lot of disgusting car fumes and most Russians were pulling their loads by sled, including children. I rounded one of the last corners of my mile long route and was creaking along a narrow path of wooden boards covered in ice. When I reached the end and was able to see my school I noticed a rather large gathering of police and many people running into the school or into their cars. I felt a little apprehensive because of the Bislan massacre earlier this year; although I was fairly sure no terrorists would invade Siberia.

This left me to wonder what caused this state of trepidation. I continued forward since I didn’t want anyone else to think of my character as pusillanimous. However, the closer I got I realized that my decision wasn’t very prudent. One of the many cop cars quickly shifted positions and I saw a gigantic bear that had wandered out of the taiga and into the city sometime during the night. Unfortunately, I missed the really exciting part as they had already shot a sedative into the massive creature and he was nothing more than a languid mass. He really didn’t look too aggressive. I was later told that this was a very rare occurrence and that I shouldn’t be too worried about it. As far as I was concerned it was the most exciting day I’ve had in Yakutsk.

I finally made it to the Russian cinema where I saw “The Chronicles of Riddick”. I swear, in Russian it is a life changing movie. The audience was practically crying. Before the movie started though my Russian friends and I had three hours because the movie we were supposed to see sold out since this cinema only has two screens. So, we went to the Yakutsk “fast food” restaurant. It’s actually more of a small café that serves salads and dough wraps filled with meat and cheese and of course ice-cream. It’s amazing that people still buy ice-cream from the street vendors even when it’s snowing outside. The food wasn’t great, though it was superior to American fast food. Someone should ridicule Calder for feasting at McDonalds while in Russia. There is too much delicious food for such behavior. Eventually we made it back to the theater which, inside, isn’t any different from American theaters.

During one of my visits to an English class I met a short, somewhat eccentric teacher who has taken it upon herself to arrange classes for me aside from the ones I have already. So, I had my first “extra” class a few days ago with some sort of scientist who has dedicated his entire professional career to the different kinds of mosses. And that does mean the gray stuff in the trees. He had at least one thousand samples of mosses from all over the world. He laid a few sheets of wax paper in front of me which had these samples and he explained that moss grows out of the fecal matter of animals. That’s when I realized that each sample also had attached feces. That was just awkward. But then we went to the institute’s greenhouse. It was humid and tropical and I could hardly breathe from the humidity. Just like Florida.

Another touching story is the traditional Russian dinner I had last night.

My “mama” and I had been preparing for the event by arranging and re-arranging tables and chairs to accommodate the nine guests plus the three members of our family. There wasn’t any food preparation though because the dinner was being catered by a local restaurant. All of the guests arrived on time except for two that arrived over an hour late. In Yakutsk though you don’t dine without all of the guests. So, this left time for a lot of discussion amongst the punctual guests and I was involuntarily brought into two a few discussions which I prefer to be left out of because my Russian is still not good.

After all the guests arrived, we sat down at the table where many plates of food were awaiting us. One dish was a salad comprised of corn, Russian mayonnaise, chicken, onion, some green spices, grapes, and pickles on the bottom. I know it sounds disgusting but it was delicious. There was also a plate of grilled meat which I think was beef but I’m not positive as horse and elk are also common delicacies. However, the only absolutely disgusting portion of food was the plate of cow tongue, stomach, and blood. Well, I know the tongue was from a cow but my mama wasn’t sure about the stomach and blood. The stomach looks like small rings of white flesh with some yellow matter in the middle and the blood was just like small round pieces of pudding, like blood pudding. I did try one of everything and now I know three things I’ll never eat again.

Also, on the table were a variety of drinks; wine, Baileys, Martini, and juice. I confined myself to the latter of the choices. This was a good decision since the reason for the celebration was the 25 year anniversary of my host parents. This meant that throughout dinner each guest would stand up and give a toast and everyone would take a shot of something or swallow a glass of wine. I would have been incoherent within the first half hour of dinner.
After each guest had given at least two toasts and everyone ceased to eat anymore we all stood up and started walking around the flat. I was relieved everyone would finally be leaving after the two hours of eating and talking.
I also noticed a lot of food still in the kitchen that hadn’t even been unwrapped yet. I assumed my mama was simply a safe person and kept it in case food ran low. Then, suddenly, everybody sat back down and somehow I felt ambushed. The food from the kitchen was brought out to the table for us to resume eating. It was a large plate of local fish which was cut into twenty squares and each piece had a slice of lemon on top covered in caviar.
The head of the fish remained on the plate with its eyes gouged out and replaced by two grapes. We ate the fish and at least three rounds of more toasts were made. My papa was continually filling glasses and brining out more wine and martini bottles.

This continued for another two hours before everyone rose again and walked around the apartment. Then we resettled at the table and more food followed. This time it was a plate of tiny pieces of local fish which was raw and frozen and covered in spices. It was a lot like sushi which I miss a lot. The toasts also continued and this time presents were given to my host parents. Since most of the conversation didn’t include me due to a lack of understanding the language I was left to just eating. During this last course there was a plate of vegetables brought out also but beneath the vegetables were small strips of fried potato. It was the closest food I’ve had to a French fry since arriving in Russia. I indulged myself in these Russian French fries for a couple hours until the procession of people finally got up and actually left the apartment.

More and more snow is piling up everyday. And today while walking to the university I saw a father pulling his infant child on a small sled type contraption behind him. I can’t help but feel cheated.

April 29 Journal

The raw horse didn’t taste so strange anymore. It wasn’t much different than reaching into a bag of potato chips or popcorn, doubts only arose in me after seeing the occasional purple vein emerging from a chunk of the frozen meat. It had become difficult to contort my mouth in the proper chewing motions without feeling in my cheeks, my expressions were infantile as if I were retraining my muscle how to eat solid food again. My fingers were crooked and stiff in the wool gloves and it was impossible to untangle them as they had lost feeling long ago.

Looking out towards the field of snow I saw where dozens of boats had found themselves lodged for a long winter. There were small commuter boats, fishing vessels, and even a cruise ship. She was five stories high and had a blue hull which jutted out from the ice like a small whale. Icicles hung in rows from her iron mast and red railings, occasionally breaking off and shattering on the deck below. The windows etched in long rows in her sides reflected individual scenes of the white graveyard surrounding her, a sort of broken collage where I noticed pieces of myself and the dock in three different squares of glass, severed but somehow correct in context. It was as if she were gazing around trying to make sense of her crippled companions but had found herself just as useless, just as immobile. They were a flock captured in flight, stuck in motion, longing to continue homeward where they knew better land existed.

It wasn’t an uplifting site but in this small Siberian town it was one of the last victorious sites. Only in the cold slumber of Yakutsk, where man has struggled to live for centuries, can I find a triumph of the fading Mother Earth. One of her last havens is in the ice packs and glaciers of Siberia. Here she overcomes one of the most important achievements of man, a vessel that has long sailed across her seas and up her rivers, here she defeats progressive civilization and lauds herself by ripping open every gray cloud to spill itself and freeze on the land below. It is a last harsh breath before a final collapse.

If this had been my first time viewing the frozen land I would have wondered how all of these once free boats had found themselves in this short stretch of tundra. Is it possible that all of these captains became disoriented and lost their way, or maybe all of those empty vodka bottles near the helms of the ships tell the stories. It is Russia, after all. Of course, none of these theories would be plausible given the lack of water and impossibility of passage into this white desert. After all speculation is concluded, my best answer would be that they fell from above. There was a bizarre Siberian tornado and it picked up this group of sailing ships and dropped them all right here.

This encounter, however, was not my first. I had made the short journey to this spot seven months ago to the day. When I wore only sneakers, one layer of clothing, sunrays warmed me and I actually sweated. It was my first viewing of Yakutia’s port where boats floated in the deep river and they were tied to thick steel pilings. A naval ship also arrived that day with its crew of bulky Russian sailors and their crisp white uniforms. They dispersed in small white groups to explore the port while a few sailors were left behind to stow away the large barrels of artillery near the ships guns.

On that day I walked close to the water passing by a small shop where two sailors were buying beer and onto the narrow pier. The black wobbling pupils of the white birds stared at me as I neared the final planks. I dipped my hands into the dark river and rinsed my face. A pike rose to the surface and I glimpsed its whiskers and jagged teeth before it quickly retreated downwards and again I rinsed myself with the cool water. Some of the decorated sailors began clambering onto the pier behind me, almost shaking me into the water. They spoke about victories from past training missions and how other ships quickly succumbed to their might. Each one spoke in turn giving his account of how the events occurred and each raised his voice when it came to the part of the story where he himself had made the final decision which led to the victory. So, in the end each sailor had assumed himself responsible for the solitary triumph and drank to his own valor.

Each sailor also had his own tale of winter in Siberia, of entire crews of men that had become trapped in fields of ice and perished together. Or, of sailors watching their crewmates die beneath the icy surface trying to break through to the other side. They all knew of Captain Vlad, he was a small legend among the sailors in this cold region of Russia. Captain Vlad had found himself trapped on a small tug boat with only enough provisions to last a couple of weeks. After two months his lost ship was seen by a helicopter and when a rescue team arrived they found Captain Vlad missing an arm from his elbow down and both of his legs from the knees down. He had eaten them to stay alive. Listening intently to their embellished narratives I learned that they were only staying one night before heading to more open water the next day in order to avoid the oncoming winter.

Remembering that September day when I trekked to the port and wiped sweat from my forehead, brought back a forgotten detail of the universe. In Yakutsk, something known only subconsciously and not acknowledged in the winter, like a child who wanders through the first years of life attaching itself to whatever may come, oblivious to the center of its being, what actually materializes existence, a center that usually goes unnoticed until it has disappeared beyond a horizon from which it can’t be retrieved or remembered as it really was. It is one of those memories where the feeling can be recalled but actual events and facts are misplaced, shuffled, and there is no recognition of what once existed, only a small feeling lingering inside. During these winter months, that is how I recalled the center, the sun, the star holding a universe together, it had become imperceptible. I may as well have declared that the world is round while staring at the ground below.

Halfway through the bag of raw horse I thought of the “Pole of Cold,” the coldest spot on Earth. It was a twenty hour drive from Yakutsk on an icy road which exists only in winter. It is called the “road built on bones” because it was constructed by prisoners from the gulags once lodged into this area of lifeless earth. Thousands died in the process. The roads final destination is a site known as Kolima. During the era of Stalin this name carried with it a sharp feeling of barren emptiness, hopelessness; much like the terrain surrounding the small camp, an endless tundra. It was the prison without bars. This is where the “enemy combatants” were sent and where they were certain to be buried.

I rode there with my Russian mother, two Germans, their translator and a boy who lived there and spoke French. The Germans were Hanz and Christian. My final destination was the small wooden village of Tom-Tor. It was a town of two thousand people who had found themselves in the valley of a mountain range. It seemed that God had accidentally spilled a few people from his carafe when he was populating the Earth and so their fate was to dwell here, where the temperature had once reached negative ninety degrees and in the winter it is routinely around negative 75 degrees. During the twenty hour drive my two German friends and I, who had also come to see the festival, concluded that this town of natives would probably be a disgruntled peoples. What other mood could possibly exist in such a place?

So, it was relieving when my Russian mother and I met our temporary family and a spread of food was already waiting on the table. A plate of cow stomach, finely chopped pieces of frozen horse, beet soup, salad, and small elk steaks. The family consisted of a mother, father, daughter, son, grandma and grandpa. The daughter was fourteen and the son almost two. I liked the grandma the most. In Yakutsk grandmothers are strong entities. They always have final authority and their judgments can be equally as harsh as light. The Yakut grandmother always has a wealth of fine wrinkles folding around the edges of her tan face. Despite the age of her fingers and bones she is relentless in her duties of the house and she is an authentic chef with her native dishes. But, she is not so different from the grandmothers of the world. All she lives for is to see the growth of her family and what she has helped to create. At night, after dinner, she sits at the table drinking her tea waiting for company. It is this bit of human contact that propels her through these final, lingering years of life. After living in the village she is amazed by the site of an American boy from Florida.

My mother and I started our tour the next day by driving to the nearby town of Oymikon. On the way we saw a restored home of a famous Polish man that once lived between these villages. He was evicted to the region and quickly adapted by learning to speak Yakutian and was the first to write down the Yakut alphabet. His one room home was made of sticks and mud. In the center there was an oven which constantly burned for heat and emitted smoke through the ceiling. Etched into the sides of the enclosure were flat pieces of wood; these were beds. I laid on the plank of wood and stared into the dark ceiling where smoke crawled. My head landed in the crack of two uneven pieces of wood, I turned sideways but my gut hung over the edge and my shoulder pressed shoulder into the wood. I turned onto my stomach and pushed my nose through the crack where my head had been. The fingers on my dangling arm turned numb and a headache formed at the front of my forehead where it rested against the wood. Turning myself over a few more times, allowing my gut to hang and fingers to lose consciousness, I decided that I never wanted to be Polish or evicted to Siberia.

We continued on to Oymikon and passed by a small gathering of Yakut natives and other foreigners who had journeyed here to see the festival also. On display was a tee-pee, an authentic one. It was much different from the usual brown papery cartoon models. It stood eight feet high and was constructed from the skins of many animals. The fur side faced inwards while the bloody part of the animal faced outwards. A small opening crouched at the bottom of the tee-pee where little kids were crawling in and out. The Yakut were also serving stragonina, a local fish which is thinly sliced in long pieces and served raw. All of the foreigners were enjoying it along with the customary vodka always accompanying the dish.

About a mile later my mother and I arrived at the village of Oymikon. It was nothing more than a vast field sparsely populated with wooden houses and one school. We rode to the “pole of cold” memorial in the middle of the town. It was a giant iron thermometer with the record breaking temperature of -71.2 degrees Celsius engraved on its side, a working thermometer attached to its Frankenstein counterpart read –13 degrees C. My mom and I were taking pictures of the memorial when a jeep arrived and out came their German friends. We took group pictures and then headed to the house of a relative of the German’s translator.

We arrived at a small wooden house where a group of old Yakut men were chopping wood and drinking vodka. They dropped their axes and pried the bottles from their lips upon seeing the strange family of foreigners. They spoke among themselves in Rakutian, each word containing its own harsh, vulgar sound. My mother answered their curiosity by responding in Yakutian and their steel faces softened as they offered their vodka to the strangers and showed them inside.

We entered the house through the kitchen and then walked into the living room to wait for lunch and all had to stoop down in order to avoid the low ceiling. I noticed that in general everything was a little lower in this region of the Earth to better accommodate the “short peoples of the north,” as they are called. It was only a problem at night when I needed to take the short walk to the outhouse through the snow and couldn’t discern where the frame was and inevitably would hit my head if he I didn’t remember to duck. In this house I spotted a wind chime hanging from the ceiling where the kitchen and living room joined and asked why it was inside. I found that it was in accordance with Fung-Shui to create a more harmonious balance.

Within five minutes we returned to the kitchen where a small round table was filled with food. We gathered chairs and crowded around the table. The usual dishes were all present; raw horse, raw fish, a salad made of chopped beef and mayonnaise, intestines and a certain sausage filled with blood and milk. Patrick had tried it all at some point in the past and found that the raw horse and fish had unique tastes to which he had grown accustom but the intestines and sausage were still too foreign.

May 23 Journal

“Beating my nude host father with eucalyptus leaves.”

So, how did I find myself standing over my nude host father beating him with a branch of eucalyptus leaves while he moaned out loud? It wasn’t on a dare or a practical joke and it wasn’t meant to be kinky. Also, the fact that I am in Russia doesn’t make it obligatory that vodka helped to motivate the situation.

It was after a game of basketball with my host father and a few of his former students that I decided to bathe myself. However, I live in the “dacha” for now, which is like a cabin, thus there is no bathtub or normal means of washing. I picked up a towel and started walking towards the lake that borders our yard. I wasn’t looking forward to the experience since it was frozen less than a month ago and hypothermia probably remains as a very real possibility. I was in my shorts and walking through the yard with my towel when my father stopped me and said that he had already started heating the “banya” and we could wash there.

What does it mean “to heat up” the banya? It should be understood that at the dacha we live a very primal life. Every day my father and I chop fire wood together to heat both of the ovens in our dacha and the oven in my aunt’s dacha. This is so that we stay warm at night and so we can cook dinner. We wash our dishes in giant tubs of water that are heated on top of these giant brick stoves, basically the only source of heat is the stove and that is only produced by our physical labor. The banya is no exception. It is basically a sauna but has features to set it apart and make it a purely Russian experience. It is also “oven powered,” a term which could frequently be used in Yakutsk, and my father had already chopped all of the wood and the banya had been heating for two hours.

I had heard a lot about the Russian banya earlier but had never gotten the full experience. My father and I entered the first room together as it is comprised of three separate rooms. In this first room the temperature is low as there is nothing to heat it. We entered the second room and I could see the back of the stove where my father had started the fire. The third room was only a door away and as I hesitated for a second, wondering what to do next, my father began undressing. I assumed we would strip down to our underwear and head to the next room together, but when we reached that pivotal moment I stopped and glanced over to see exactly how far he was going to escalate the situation. He was already naked and smiling. I decided to go all the way and we headed into the third room already sweating.

This room was also wooden with the front of the stove poking through the wall and a large barrel of cold water stood in the corner. The temperature must have been just over a hundred (Celsius) and my father said that we needed to sit on the bench at first to get used to the heat and relax a little. He began telling me about the history of the banya as our naked bodies sat together on the bench in this hundred degree room. Apparently it used to be a tradition to drink “kvas” while in the banya to better cleanse your pores.

Kvas is a non alcoholic Russian drink made from bread. Each bottle has the scent of a loaf of bread and the taste is something I can’t describe. He continued on about the banya by explaining that in the winter people wash themselves in this steaming hot sauna and then immediately run outside and dive into the snow and return back to thaw out. At this point dehydration was setting in and I was pondering the sanity of the average Russian.

We sat for ten minutes basting in our sweat before returning to the first room as a short escape from the heat. I stood in front of the door which was mostly glass and realized that anyone walking by at the moment would get a glimpse that would not soon be forgotten. Our bodies were smoking and the visible white perspiration rose from our bodies slowly latching onto the windows so that we couldn’t even see out. My father was still talking about the banya and had reached the time of the modern banya of Russia. He said that during the break away from the heat Russians often drink large glasses of beer to satisfy their dehydration and then run back into the sauna to drain it all out. I asked about a tradition which I first heard in the Pole of Cold, where people rub vodka on their chests while withering away in the banya. I was told it helps with cleansing the “dysha,” in English it is something like soul or spirit. So, in Russia it is possible to purify yourself physically and spiritually with vodka. This is a concept that probably doesn’t exist in many countries, however my father hadn’t heard of this practice; perhaps it is strictly a Pole of Cold tradition.

After spending a couple minutes cooling off we returned to endure more of the banya. Once inside with the door tightly shut my father leaned over and dipped a small pot into the barrel of cold water. He threw the water onto the hot rocks above the stove so that a rush of steam filled the tiny room and he motioned for me to follow him to the bench. With the steam the temperature easily reached a hundred and ten. We sat holding our heads trying to bear through the worst and after two minutes all was better. When I looked over, my father’s balding head was bright pink and his silver tooth glittered in his large smile.

It wasn’t long before we retreated to cool off again and then returned. Except, this time he grabbed a small branch of eucalyptus leaves which had been soaking in a bowl of hot water. He told me to lie on the bench face down. I slowly lowered my naked self onto this steaming bench, trying not to scald myself, obviously I was a bit worried. After I became somewhat settled he began to lightly beat my back with the branch and down to my feet, the hot water puddled on my body and I clenched my mouth to keep from screaming. At first it was a little painful but I quickly got used to it and it just became a strange feeling. My father started talking about banya facts again and said that in Russia there used to be a popular beer that people drank which was made from honey. It helped to cleanse and strengthen the skin, I didn’t really catch the entire explanation as I couldn’t hear so well through the whipping of the branch.

We switched positions and he laid himself down as I held the stick wondering exactly what to do. I didn’t have any practice at whipping people, S and M hadn’t been a ritual of mine in the past. I was scared of hurting him and so I began lightly brushing the leaves across his back. He told me to beat him harder, obviously he was more accustomed to this than I was. So, I increased my strength but it still didn’t satisfy him. He wasn’t happy until I put all of my muscle into every whip and I knew that I was finally doing it right when the moans started. I whipped the leaves up and down his body trying not to notice what was really going on but I couldn’t help but think that I was naked with another man in a sauna, and I was whipping him with eucalyptus leaves. We continued on for nearly ten minutes, whipping and moaning, until my arms were tired and he was content.

The last process in the Russian banya is the actual cleansing. There were two large bowls of water and soap. We splashed the mixture onto ourselves and then poured the remaining water onto our heads. My father washed with the eucalyptus water so that his pink head, silver tooth, and the green water mixed together to look like some unidentifiable melted candy. Then, the adventure came to end and I dressed myself to walk back to the dacha, but my father thought it was ok to walk back in only a t-shirt.

Maybe nobody saw, hopefully the neighbors were asleep.

June 25 Journal

I arrived today from my four day trip on the Omga River which lies in a small village about six hours from Yakutsk, two of those hours being by ferry. I went with my father and a ninth grade class of Yakutian students, their teacher and a few of their parents. After the long drive and giving a sacrifice to a designated tree for luck we came to the bank of the river and began setting up camp. My father brought out his bright pink tent from 1980 where three of us slept even thought it is made for one. It didn’t even have all of the necessary parts forcing my father to hunt in the forest with his ax for two long branches in order to keep it off the ground. Then we unrolled two long pieces of animal skin and laid them over the hole in the bottom of the tent and placed our sleeping bags on top. Instantly the mosquitoes appeared in swarms and ate us. I feel as if I have a right to complain about this after I was told about the torture that used to be implemented in Yakutsk. All over the world different civilizations invented perverted executions and various painful tortures but in Yakutsk and in the more northern parts it was always easy. They would simply take the convicted person, bind him to a tree in the middle of the Taiga, and strip him or her of all clothing; within a few hours death by mosquito would be complete. I wasn’t exactly naked and bound to a tree but that didn’t make a difference to the flies. To ward them off there is a different Yakutian tradition still in fervent practice today, cow feces. It isn’t as disgusting as it sounds and once you find yourself in the situation there isn’t anything you won’t try. We all built small fires in front of our tents and walked around the site collecting clumps of dried cow feces and used them to smother the fire so that the flame disappeared and only smoke was emitted. At the time I convinced myself that standing in the smoke of flaming cow feces was the only way out and really it didn’t seem so strange as it does now looking back on that moment.

After we had set up all the tents and built a few fires our small spot on the bank looked like a real campsite; It was the first time I had a chance to walk to the water. The river was settled inside of a group of hills where we were stopped for the night and at the crest of our site, just before descending downwards I saw a picturesque Yakutsk, how the river wound through the green landscape lined with fields of yellow and purple flowers, then it continued on edging around a distant village of wooden homes. I picked up a couple of rocks walking towards the water where two of the kids were fly fishing. When I walked up to them and skipped the rocks across the water they were dumbfounded by this talent, it isn’t such a popular pastime. I tried to teach them but it wasn’t working out and it was scaring the fish so we gave up. Soon afterwards I retreated back towards the fires to escape the flies.

That night we ate borscht, salad, drank tea and played different games until three in the morning. The next day we woke to a sunny day and ate more borscht for breakfast. After we began inflating the rafts we learned that one had exploded and so three of us were without a boat. Luckily, my father and I had brought along our own raft in order to carry extra weight along the river and so we rode in there. Unfortunately our boat wasn’t designed for long river trips with its long rounded ends and square flat bottom. We both paddled with all of our strength but by lunch we couldn’t go any farther and so we switched to a regular canoe and carried our own boat behind us with two people in it. This was easier but carrying a couple hundred pounds behind you on a river when you’ve only got paddles is tiring. The entire time on the river we were roasting under the sun and jumping in the water to escape the flies. My one happy moment was when my father found some wild green onion when we stopped on the bank, it was refreshing.

After six hours on the river we finally spotted our bus; it was following us at each stop since there was not enough man power to carry it all by canoe. A huge sigh of pure joy escaped all of us at the sight of the big, beautiful white bus. We paddled as hard as we could to reach the shore and end the day but of course we grew tired before hitting land and rested again and repeated that process a few more times. It was a quick night after we cleaned ourselves and had another meal of borscht and salad. We pitched our tents and burned fecal fires in front of them to get rid of the flies, hung our wet clothes on nearby trees and went to sleep.

The next day I was in dread until I found out that we weren’t going to carry the extra boat and once we got on the water we tied four boats together and made a sail out of a tarp. I was in deep doubt about how well this idea would come off but I was proven wrong when the strong wind picked up and blew us down river, we only paddled to steer. The day was also cloudy so we weren’t sweltering and in the middle of the river there weren’t any flies to eat us. It was pleasant. We sailed along for a couple hours before spotting the bus on a hill.

This was our last night on the river and so we celebrated by eating spaghetti and salad instead of borscht and salad. There was a traditional time of present giving and words from every parent and guest had to be given, including myself. After eating we explored the spot where we had stopped and climbed the small mountain to a house where a famous Russian writer once lived. We explored his preserved house and the three small cabins left there. The view was the best from this spot. Looking down on the river we saw an island that the river curved itself around on all sides and it kept going until nothing was visible. This is where we slept for our last night and the next day we left for the city.

I’ve still got a couple more adventures in Yakutsk within these last couple of weeks before returning to America. I am going to live at a camp for a little while and teach English and after that I’ll be going to an area not far from Yakutsk where the ice never melts and I’ll camp there with my dad and sister. I’ll be talking about all of this at the Welcome Home Dinner since this is probably my last journal. Just to prepare everyone for my entrance to America, I have gained a little weight. The diet here is heavily oriented with meat, much different from my vegetarian diet in America, causing me to put on about an extra forty pounds over the course of ten months. Also, due to the lack of Florida sun I have become white, a really puffed up snowball sort of. I’ll have to start thawing and exercising right when I return to be in shape for the dinner. Who thinks I can lose forty pounds in a week?

Septemeber 28 Journal

I think it has been about a month since I arrived in Taiwan, give or take a few days and I am finally starting to feel really at home here. Apart from catching some kind of stomach virus a few days in, I have been adjusting very nicely and having an amazing time. In my host family here I have two host parents who I call Mama and Baba (they would be highly offended if I called them anything else), a host sister who is currently an exchange student in Colorado, and two little brothers, Zhi Jia and Zhi Wei, aged 10 and 13. Never having had brothers before, this has been quite an experience! Their hobbies include watching TV, playing on the computer, and wrestling almost into my lap. They’re both rather adorable, and their behavior towards me is certainly different from what I would expect of little brothers in the US. Taiwanese people are sticklers for protocol and respect; hence, my brothers call me Jie-Jie (big sister) and do everything I tell them too (most of the time. I am still working on them not to make my towels soaking wet every time they shower. As their towels are always wet, they don’t understand why I want mine to be dry.) Just this morning, Zhi Jia handed his English homework to me with a grunt to be checked, and got a round chastising for not saying “Please Jie-Jie, would you be so kind as to check my homework for me?” I have found that living with two brothers does tend to make life infinitely more exciting, and as Mama and Baba treat me as if I were in truth their daughter, I feel very much at home. In fact, I’ve never had anyone worry about me as much as Mama does. She and Baba went out together one morning, and when she returned I asked her if she had fun. “Of course not!” she said. I asked her if she didn’t like visiting her friends, and she explained that she did, but as Zhi Wei, Zhi Jia, and I were at home, she couldn’t have fun because she was so worried about us.

I have found the accepting and welcoming attitude of my parents to be shared by most of the people here. I had four host families before I came, but so many people like me here that I now have five and counting! I also have numerous offers to stay a few days to a week at people’s houses, just to see what it’s like. I have also found a similar welcome at my school.

My school is called Ming Tai and has six buildings all seven stories tall. It was founded in 1945, but before that was the site of formal gardens, and before that the residence of my vice principal’s family going all the way back to the Qing dynasty! Parts of the formal gardens still remain, and many students go there on break time to study.  My school also houses its own museum, with some documents that are over 150 years old! As befits a school with such an exceptional history, it is not a normal high school but a variety of vocational programs. I am taking classes across vocations and across grades, which leaves me with a schedule that includes everything from Chinese cooking to Web Design to Teaching Media (for people who aspire to be kindergarten teachers to learn to make their own materials) to Music. However, no matter what class I’m taking, I am the center of attention. When Al said that we would not have a sign on our foreheads that proclaimed us exchange students and that we would have to seek out opportunities, for me at least, he was wrong. Every break time the entire class clusters around my desk to ask me questions, stroke my hair, and introduce themselves to me. As I have had seven schedule changes, the introducing part is still necessary in some of my classes. I have twice been stopped by teachers walking between classes and asked if I could spare five minutes to come and give a speech to their classes because their classes are so curious about me. While giving an impromptu speech in Chinese in front of a classful of students can be intimidating, it’s well worth it to hear some of the questions afterward. The first question all the girls have is “In America, do you have a boyfriend?” and the first question all the boys ask is “Do you think I’m handsome?” One boy even asked me for my cell phone number (which I still don’t know). Other questions include “Do you live on an orange farm in Florida?” and “Can you see dolphins from your house in Florida?” They all want to tell me their English names, which tend to be rather outrageous. Some of the most amusing were Yoyo, Porjay, Biky, and Zildjian. Most of the students and teachers are also eager to demonstrate their command of English. Unfortunately, as in the case of my Teaching Media teacher who translated something she’d written on the blackboard as an “adhibition of quadrates”, I usually find their Chinese a lot easier to understand than their English. My Chinese has been progressing very rapidly, and while I am still far from fluent, I am now able to communicate what I want to say fairly well. I am also learning to read and write Chinese characters. While the reading comes fairly naturally to me, remembering how to write Chinese characters is quite a task! However, the people here applaud any effort I make, which, while embarrassing, can also be encouraging!

I have also gone on several trips while I’ve been here. I took a trip with my host family to a town called San Yi to look at some of the most beautiful wood carvings I’ve ever seen, and I also visited my host grandparents who live on a rice farm. That was certainly an experience! I’ve also gone shopping with two classmates, Shuwen and Wanzhen, and another exchange student, Ada, who doesn’t go to my school. Going shopping probably made me realize more than anything else that I am in a foreign country. Shopping turned out to be a series of roadside, open air shops that can only be reached by walking between fast moving cars and equally fast moving motorized scooters. My Taiwanese friends absolutely could not understand why on earth Ada and I would prefer to cross one of the busiest streets in Taizhong at a crosswalk when the light had turned red. When we explained that walking across the middle of a street with cars moving 80 miles an hour or more would be suicide, they told us unconcernedly that we could just walk between the cars! After that they took us to a fourteen story department store that really seemed more like an amusement park, complete with indoor playgrounds and whole floors of games. Despite all this, the first thing my friends insisted that Ada and I see was the bathroom. I know that sounds really odd, but it was truly incredible. Decorated as if it were underwater, it was complete with disco lights, 3-D fish wallpaper, and mini children sized toilets.

Besides all that, I have also attended three Rotary meetings so far, and gone to five barbecues in the last week to celebrate the Moon Festival, which was on Saturday. This is a national holiday in Taiwan, which is celebrated by praying (in the temple which is a wing of our house), eating moon cakes, and, of course, barbecue! Needless to say, I have thoroughly enjoyed myself this month and look forward to more wonderful experiences here.

November 4 Journal

Now that I have been in Taiwan for about two months, I feel like I have more or less settled into my life here. At school, I can now go to the bathroom over break time without the entire hallway surrounding me, but there is no question that I am still the #1 school wide celebrity! When you think about it this is really understandable, since, no matter how long I’ve been here, I am still immediately recognizable in any crowd because of my Caucasian features. I find that, now that I’m not surrounded everywhere I go, I rather like the attention because it opens the way for me to have lots of friends here. My classmates are all incredibly friendly, and from what I heard, I think the whole school would like to go on an exchange if Rotary would let them. I think Taiwanese students are in general more open minded than Americans, and they are definitely less ethnocentric. More and more as I’ve been away from America, I’ve seen that Americans believe themselves to be the supreme model not only of a smoothly functioning democracy, but also of culture. When told of other countries’ customs that differ from their own, Americans tend to be derogatory. Because I grew up American, I am used to this and expected Taiwanese people to be the same way about Taiwan. However, Taiwanese people seem to be incredibly open to the concept that “different” doesn’t necessarily mean “bad.” More than once, when I have told my host family of a differing custom in America, they have said “That’s really interesting, maybe we should do things that way in Taiwan.” This open-mindedness is probably one of the reasons why I get along so well with most people in Taiwan. If I have any problems at all at school, my teachers strive to accommodate me, and my classmates try to accommodate me in any way they can.

Despite everyone’s helpfulness, I felt a little bored at first in school because I didn’t really understand what was going on. However, now that my Chinese has gotten a little better, I have tried to involve myself in activities around the school. I act as assistant coach for my classmates who are training for an English contest, and I have started accepting some of the numerous invitations from friends to visit their classes for one or two periods. Invariably, this means that the teacher asks me to give a little speech to the class, and then he/she will try to hold a normal class for a little while the students all ask me questions and pass me notes, and then he/she will give up and declare what I call “Interview Samantha” time. Answering questions from lots of people that may not necessarily make a whole lot of sense is something I have become very good at it. Every time I have an available moment, students gather around me to ask me questions, and since my school has upwards of three thousand students, it seems like I am talking to a different group every time. Besides getting used to answering questions, I have also gotten used to comments about my appearance. For instance, one girl said to me “Your nose is so big.” All of the girls around her murmured agreement, and I, rather offended, was about to make some caustic remark back when she said “I wish my nose was that big.” I stood dumbfounded for a moment, and then, not sure I’d heard aright, said “You think big noses are pretty?” They all said “Of course, why, don’t you?” I have also received comments that express surprise that I don’t have the beginnings of a moustache on my upper lip, as all my female classmates do, that I look like Barbie (??), and that my face looks just like an apple. This last had me laughing for quite a while before my host mother explained that it was an expression. She said it’s because when I’m embarrassed, hot, or in the sun, my cheeks get red and, as I had already noticed, Taiwanese people simply do not get red in the face. Apparently they also think this is very attractive. All I can say is that everyone wants what they don’t have.

I suppose the point I’m trying to make is that, as the only Caucasian in my school and neighborhood, I am constantly on show. If I do anything at school, be it so small as picking up a pencil, someone is bound to ask me why. Also, along with the feeling of being on show, I have had the completely new experience of finding myself to be the most liberally dressed person in a crowd. In America, I usually feel that I am one of the more conservatively dressed people, if not the most conservatively dressed, at school. Here, we wear a school uniform, but I go out shopping and swimming with my classmates on the weekend. I don’t own a bikini; I only wear one-piece bathing suits, but I still felt half-naked when I went swimming with my friends. The collar of my bathing suit was high in the front, but it dipped about halfway down my back. I would never have thought twice about this in America, but my classmates stared at me and asked if everyone in America was so “daring” in their dressing. I also felt uncomfortable the first time I went shopping with friends. I could only imagine what would have happened if I were a “normal” American and wore a bikini to swim. Warned by my experience with the bathing suit, I wore my most conservative clothes, but since we would be walking outside a lot I brought my sunglasses. In the entire press of people window shopping in the street, I was the only one wearing sunglasses. The girls I was shopping with (who will be my host sisters when I go to my second host family) oohed and aahed over them, and their little half sister and brother, who we brought along, wouldn’t move until they were allowed to try them on. I was rather amused when the little brother pronounced that he liked them and wanted to wear them. I had to gently explain to him that my sunglasses were definitely meant for a female and he might look a little silly wearing them. However, I did end up letting the little sister, Chian-Chian, wear them for most of our walk. In general, I’ve been having a lot of fun here, and between Rotary meetings, traveling with my host family, going out with friends, and school (7:30 AM to 4:30 PM) I have been incredibly busy! I sincerely believe that my year here is going to be one of the highlights of my life.

November 11 Journal

Ni hao! I know it has been only about a week since I wrote my last journal but I have since gone on a three day Tea Tour around Taiwan with Rotary and I want to write all about it before I forget. It was not only incredibly fun, the whole thing was one long laugh after another.

It started early (too early!) Friday morning when my host parents took me and another exchange student, Ada, to a rest stop where we would meet the other exchangees. Because Taiwan is so incredibly small, all the inbounds in Taiwan go on trips together and we all fit onto one bus with seats to spare. On the bus, everyone spoke English, even though everyone was not necessarily from an English speaking country.

I thought it was amusing when I met some German exchange students who couldn’t speak Chinese at all, but spoke perfect English! I also thought it was funny when some exchange students told me that before they came to Taiwan, their English was very poor, but it has gotten much better over here from constant practice. I was surprised to learn that most students, whether native English speakers or not, spoke English with their host families. I guess they’re still learning a foreign language abroad. Although I spoke English to most of the exchange students, I spoke Chinese with one student whose English wasn’t quite conversational (but whose Chinese was excellent!), I spoke half French and half English with the French and Quebecois girls, half Spanish and half English with a Mexican exchange student, and even compared some phrases in Swedish with a Danish student. I think by the end of our trip, I deserved to win a prize for Most Confused!

Our first stop was at Shui Li Civic Office, where they told us the “County Mail” would be so kind as to address us. It took about fifteen minutes of puzzling about the meaning of “Mail” before some bright student finally said “Oh! They mean countymayor!” When we got there they seated us in an auditorium and introduced the mayor, other important men, and the reporters. I found the fact that there would be reporters taping us a little surprising, but they kept mostly to the background. Then they asked one student to translate for the mayor, because he had studied Chinese for a year at the university in America and probably spoke better than any of us. However, the mayor spoke a mixture of Chinese and Taiwanese, and so of course all of us, translator included, had no idea what he was saying. Our tour guide therefore translated into our “translator’s” ear and he would repeat what she said into the microphone. When asked why she didn’t just translate herself, our tour guide replied that she was too shy. After that, they took us to visit a hydroelectric power plant and we watched a movie in English about the workings of the plant (which of course nobody watched. We all told the mayor that it was very interesting, though.).

Our next stop was at Shui Li Snake Kiln Pit, where we handmade pottery. After that we went to Tonpo where we bathed in the hot springs. We were a little shocked to find out that there were separate springs for boys and girls. Our guides told us “But of course! It would not be appropriate for boys and girls to bathe together!” However, the two springs were on either side of a rock wall with loose rocks piled all up the sides. Lots of the girls climbed up and talked over the walls to the boys on the other side. However, the boys just relaxed in the spring. After all, since all the girls were coming to them, why should they bother to get up? So, when two girls decided the spring was too hot and showered and changed early, we told them to give us their bathing suits. We all got down from the rocks, and then we threw their bathing suits into the boys’ spring. Seconds later we had six male heads peeking over the wall, looking all around to see whose bathing suits they were.

After some more activities, we were taken home by our assigned host families. They had found a host family in Shan-An for every two exchange students. I was assigned with Ada, and our host family gave me my first ride ever on a motorized scooter when they took me to their house (no helmet, no jacket, nothing). I found it rather exhilarating, but it was dark when they took me. The next morning when I saw the steepness of the hill that we had zoomed down and the sharpness of the corners that we had taken without slowing down, I felt my knees go a little weak.

My host family is probably what I will most remember about my trip. Ada’s mother is from Hong Kong, so she doesn’t look any different from the rest of the people in Taiwan. However, when I came in the house, my new host brother and sister started shouting, “waiguoren”, which means “white person”, or literally “foreigner”. They followed Ada and me upstairs and whispered behind their hands “Look, she’s picking up a brush. Wait, what’s she doing now? Do you think all waiguoren do that? Hold on, she’s walking across the room. Better be quiet.” Ada and I give each other a long look, because of course we could hear clearly every word they were saying. Finally, I asked them what their names were and they both jumped and said “She talks!” I felt like I was in a circus and the ringmaster had just announced the talking monkeys. When they told me their names with exaggerated slowness, I told them mine and they jumped again and said, “How can she understand what we’re saying?” That launched a long discussion of how it was possible that waiguoren could speak Chinese until finally Ada ventured a quiet “We can hear what you’re saying, you know, and we understand too.” That launched a flurry of worried whispers and finally the little girl asked “Do you understand Taiwanese?” I looked her straight in the eye and said “Oh yes, of course we do.” More whispers, and then “But if you understand both Taiwanese and Chinese, how can we talk without your understanding?” Ada and I both gave elaborate shrugs and turned our faces away to hide our smiles. When they didn’t go away after fifteen minutes, I asked them, “We’re kind of like a show, huh?” When they both nodded seriously, I shut the door. Only when we still heard them discussing our every move did Ada and I realize that we had closed the door but left the window open. When we closed the window and still heard them discussing our every move, we decided to open the door while standing behind it, so that they would look into an empty room (a childish trick, I know). However, as it turns out, they had been watching us through the crack where the door meets the wall, so of course they knew exactly where we were. Then I started down the hallway to go to the bathroom and their eyes followed me with this puzzled look on their faces. I announced, “The show is now going to the bathroom.” They both gave little “Oh’s” of understanding and turned back to watch Ada.

Things went on this way for a long time and then we were finally ready to go to bed when our host siblings announced that our host mother was taking us to see our “exchange student friends”. So, Ada and I changed out of our nightgowns. As it turns out, we were going to see a couple of exchange students who couldn’t speak Chinese and needed a translator. After about fifteen minutes of translating, Ada and I were ready to go home, but our host family had disappeared! So we played blind man’s bluff with the little household children and I overturned a carton of soy sauce on my new blue pants until our host family arrived (at one o’clock in the morning!) to take us home. When we returned home our little brother told us that if we heard scratching on the wall we were not to worry because our bedroom was next to the cat’s bedroom. Ada and I just looked at each other. However, apart from the fact that I found a toy gun, a plastic bag, and a dirty sock under my pillow, and apart from the fact that the cat meowed all night long (I swear it was inhumanly loud), I slept like a rock.

The next morning, Ada and I met our host grandmother. As soon as I saw how old she was, I had a sinking feeling that she couldn’t understand any Chinese. I was right; she only spoke Taiwanese. After a few futile attempts to communicate with us, she left the room. Literally about a few seconds later, she reentered by the door that led out to street. Ada and I look rather confusedly at each other, and once again she tried to talk to us, even though she must have ascertained last time that we didn’t know much Taiwanese beyond “hello” (liho). Then when she came in again, I realized with a start that we had actually been talking to two different grandmothers! I leaned over to Ada and whispered, “I thought they were the same person.” “So did I”, she whispered. “I was wondering how she went around the back of the house that fast.”

After that little faux pas, the rest of the day went fairly well. We visited Chun-Tai Zen Temple, which is the largest Zen Buddhist temple in Asia, we handmade paper and fans at Kang-Shin Paper Mill, and then had an impromptu talent show by the exchange students. One boy did taichi, and when I asked what that was I was told “That’s what old people do in the morning.” (??) Next up was lunch, or, as the schedule they gave us said “Sample the local cuisine.” Unfortunately, the “local cuisine” turned out to be McDonalds. That night, our host family took us to visit some hot springs with some other inbounds and a former exchange student in Argentina who was traveling the world (and with us just for the weekend). The hot springs were a lot of fun, but we got in at one in the morning again.

The next morning, Ada and I were so dead on our feet from two nights of four hours sleep that we could barely roll out of bed. However, our little host sister was apparently unaffected by the lack of sleep, and was bouncing off the walls! She was bored, and with no one else up, she focused her attentions on hapless Ada and me. She chatted to us in very rapid Chinese, and decided to teach us not one, but two new card games. We tried to explain to her that we couldn’t speak Chinese, much less learn new card games at this hour of the morning, but she would not be dissuaded. So, we took the cards she gave us, put random cards down, took them back when she said they weren’t right, and congratulated her when she gleefully announced, “I win! You two don’t play very well.” Then our host mother came downstairs and said that she had a treat in mind for us. She told us that she’d let us walk to the meeting place today so that we could enjoy the beautiful scenery. I almost swooned at the mere thought of walking up that steep hill carrying all my luggage. She went out of the room before Ada and I could tell her that that would be a nightmare walk at any time, but we were absolutely fried this morning. Luckily, we (or I ) were so slow getting ready that she told us regretfully that we would have to go in the car or we’d never make it on time. Ada and I put on our most regretful faces and told her that it was all right.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast. We visited Shan-An tea factory and learned how to make tea cakes (they tasted horrible!) and then were allowed to visit Chi-Chi village for exactly ten minutes because we’d taken so long at the tea factory. After that we all went home content, but thoroughly exhausted. I realize that this was an incredibly long journal and if you actually read through to the end, I would like to tell you that I’m very impressed.

Zaijian! (goodbye)

Zhang Wenting (that’s my Chinese name)

December 22 Journal

Li ho! I have been in Taiwan for a little over three months now and have moved to my second host family. I was a little bit worried at first about switching families because I liked my first family so much, but I love my second family! My family includes Mama, Baba, twin sisters aged 17 named Hsiao Chu and Hsiao Jia, a little sister named Chian-Chian (age 7), and a little brother named Shang-Un (age 5). This is a rather unique experience for me, never having lived with small children before, but I have become very close with Chian-Chian. I call her Meimei, which means little sister and I call Shang-Un Didi, which means “little brother”. The two of them have accepted an extra older sister rather naturally. Since the family actually has seven children, three of whom no longer live at home, I suppose they’re used to a large family. In Taiwan, families tend to live together, and so we also live with Amma, my “host grandmother”, and my “host uncle”, “host aunt”, and “host cousins” live upstairs. The cousins are referred to by the family as the “upstairs children”, something that never fails to amuse me. Taiwanese children tend to be very sweet and well-behaved, so for the most part the children are very pleasant. Yesterday when I walked home from the bus stop Meimei, Didi, and the upstairs children were all playing ball in the driveway. The second they caught sight of me they dropped all the balls and raced over to give me a big group hug, shouting “Jie-Jie! Ting-Ting Jie-Jie!” It’s surprising how little things like that can make you feel really accepted and comfortable in your host country. It makes me feel special every time my little host siblings make a show of affection for me because I know that these people are really as much my family as my family in America, and that however long I am away, I will always have friends and family in Taiwan. Actually, I have so many host families that I sometimes have problems with the traditional Taiwanese forms of address to other people. For instance, I have five host mothers and I call them all Mama. This means that when my first and fourth Mamas came to pick me up together once, I had an interesting problem. I wanted to ask fourth Mama something, but when I said “Mama?” both of them turned to look at me. I finally ended up pointing at the Mama that I wanted. Also, tradition has it that when you thank people you address them by name. I wanted to thank them for picking me up, so I said “Xie xie, mamamen.” which literally means, “Thank you, Mamas”. Unfortunately, the Taiwanese have a strict grammar rule that says you only use the plural “men” where people are concerned. This limits the list of things that you can make plural to teachers, classmates, sisters, and brothers. I think I am the first person ever to use the word “Mamas” in Taiwan!

Aside from all that, I have also seen and done some really interesting things since I went on the Tea Tour. A week before I changed families my first host family took me to a famous tourist town called Lukang. There, they sell every kind of traditional Taiwanese food, tea, and artwork that you can think of. All of the goods are handmade by expert craftsmen who you can watch at their work (I liked the sandalmaker). I got pictures taken by a professional photographer of me in traditional Chinese clothing and traditional Chinese poses. Of course, by the time he was done, I had a small audience of passers-by who had come to watch, and had to wait a few more minutes before taking off the clothes because my audience was not done taking pictures of me! I was also asked several times while I was walking on the street if I could spare just a few minutes to stop and take pictures with people. I really was somewhat of a novelty, especially since I speak Chinese. People would address questions about me (of which there were many) to my host mother, and would jump when I answered them. My statement that my host mom was my mother invariably caused confusion, which was funny since in Taiwan it’s not polite to directly ask strangers personal questions. I had a hard time not laughing watching people beating around the bush trying to find out how a woman who was obviously Taiwanese had a waiguoren daughter. Finally, I will explain that I am an exchange student, and then I will explain what an exchange student is, and then what Rotary is and why I wanted to come to Taiwan, and then whoever I’m talking to will finally nod in understanding and beam and say “Welcome to Taiwan!”

Almost as interesting as visiting Lukang was being on the Taichung local news. I had already written articles both for my school and Rotary newspapers about my life as an exchange student, and suddenly one day my Chinese teacher tells me “You should do something with your hair tomorrow. Reporters are coming to film you for our local news station.” The reporters wanted to film me in class with my classmates, but unfortunately the period they came I was having my one on one lesson with my Chinese teacher. They asked me if there was a class I usually had classes with, and I told them there was. The only problem was, that class was having English class with the only waiguoren teacher in the school, a Dutchman whom the students call “Ronald Laoshi”, or literally “Ronald Teacher”. The reporters decided that this was not what they had in mind, so they asked which textbooks I had with me. I had my math textbook from earlier in the day, my Chinese textbook, and my history textbook. So they ended up seeking out my history teacher, who was teaching a class full of students I had never seen before. They plopped me in an empty desk and said “This is good. We’ll film her here.” The teacher announced to the class “Well, class, this is our new student, Ting-Ting.” I stood up and bowed, a little embarrassed, and everyone clapped. Then the teacher resumed his teaching and I tried to look normal with three cameramen moving around my desk and adjusting their cameras to get a better shot. Then one of them told me to chat with my deskmate. This was a little awkward since I’d never seen her before. Later, I explained to the class that I found it a little awkward to talk to them since we didn’t know each other. “That’s not true”, they told me. “You may not know who we are, but we all know who you are.” Never has a truer thing been said. While I know only those students whom I have class with (which is a considerable amount), every one of the three thousand students in my school knows exactly who I am.

A few days after I had my television debut, I changed host families. After I’d been with my second host family for about a week, they took me to see the fongyuan. All I could say was that I picked the right year to come to Taiwan. While my first time shopping at the yeshi, or night market, was pretty incredible, the fongyuan exceeded all my expectations. It is a religious celebration that occurs once every twenty years in Taiwan. They have a period where they cannot eat fish or meat, and then they celebrate their renewed ability to eat these foods by three days of fongyuan. There were exhibits of manikins in traditional Chinese costumes mounted on spectacular pyramids and interspersed with dead pigs that were held in traditional poses. All the manikins and their clothing were built entirely of food, such as fish, meat, candy, etc. The pigs, all of them real, had been mounted so well that it looked almost as if they must be fake. In another exhibit, manikins dressed in traditional costumes of Japan, Korea, and China performed traditional dances and kung fu on an even larger pyramid. People loosed lanterns into the air with prayers written inside. The lanterns work almost like hot air balloons except that nobody pilots them. They float up into the night sky until they are just pinpricks of light, carrying the people’s prayers to distant places.

After we had finished sightseeing, I got to go on my second motorized scooter ride ever! Mama drives very fast, and I don’t think she knows what the word “straight” means. Riding with her was like riding on a roller coaster, and all in all, I was very satisfied.

That weekend, I attended the interviews for prospective outbound students. Although we did not make the interviewees dance the hokey pokey, we still had a lot of fun. For instance, we asked every student why they would like to go to whatever country it is they want to go to. Most of the students answered in a monotonous, pre-rehearsed voice, “I want to study a foreign culture and learn a foreign language.” One student, however, told us that he wanted to go to his chosen country because “The atmosphere is very clean over there.” I thought that was a rather odd reason to want to be an exchange student, but I gave him points anyway for the one and only original answer!

The interviews were really a lot different from what I remember about the American interviews. For one thing, they were a lot shorter, and the atmosphere was a lot more serious. For another, many students actually brought musical instruments or examples of their artwork to the interviews to show the Rotarians their particular “special talent”. I found the not necessarily harmonious music blaring from the next table a little distracting, but I also found it vastly amusing. It was nice to see some of the inbound and Rotex students again, and I look forward to getting to know most of our future outbounds better in the future.

Finally, last weekend I went to Taipei for the first time since arriving at the airport there to attend an inbound student Christmas party and a Rotary Youth Exchange Program Inbound Student Mandarin Speech Contest (what a mouthful!). I am pleased and proud to say that I took second place at the speech contest. I felt like this was really an accomplishment because I placed above two students who had been in Taiwan for almost a full year, and one who had studied Mandarin for a full year at university in America. Also, I’d like to point out that, at fourteen, I was the youngest student at the contest, and the third place winner, at fifteen, was the next youngest student. Who says younger children don’t make good exchange students? As a prize, I got a really neat trophy (it has a disco light on the top!) and a coin that, as far as I understand it, was issued by the president of Taiwan this year. Apparently there are less than one hundred issues of this coin, which bears special symbols. I liken it to our fifty states quarters, except that these coins are rarer.

I had barely gotten back to my seat after receiving my trophy when my second host mother told me happily that she’d told my first and fourth host families, Rotary, and both teachers who had helped me with my speech at school. I was a little upset because all of those people had worked very hard to help me have the best speech possible, and I felt that I wanted to tell them of my achievement myself. However, I now realize that, as my Rotary club’s only exchange student, how I perform in a Rotary sponsored speech contest is a matter of some importance to the entire club, and protocol demands that they be immediately notified if I place. How I perform reflects directly on my Rotary club, and so my taking second place is something for the whole club to be proud of. This is just another example of the major cultural differences between Taiwan and the US, for while I think an American Rotary club would be proud of their student, I don’t think the student’s performance would be a matter of face to them. All I can say is, I’m glad I didn’t know this before I did my speech because it would have made me incredibly nervous, and I’m pleased not to let all the people who have given me such a wonderful exchange down. Rotary, my host families, and my family in America have all worked very hard to give me an incredible experience, and I’d like to say a big thank you to all those who have made my exchange possible.

March 15 Journal

I know it has been a very long time since I have written, but this is perhaps because I have been so busy here absorbing my host culture. Christmas and the New Year have passed since I last wrote, but both of these holidays pale here before the significance of Chinese New Year. This was very unusual for me since I am used to Christmas being a major holiday and Chinese New Year a remote memory of visiting San Francisco’s Chinatown when I was a little girl. However, here it is just the opposite. Kids would wish me a “Marry Christmas” (no, I did not make a spelling error, that’s how they spell it here) whenever their class had a Christmas party. Most of them don’t realize that Christmas actually has a specific date and is not a holiday season that lasts for close to a month like Chinese New Year. Chinese New Year, or guonian is on February 8th and 9th, but people will start their phone conversations withXinniankuaile! (Happy New Year) for at least a month after the fact.

Taiwanese people have a lot of misconceptions about Christmas that emanate from comparisons between Christmas and Chinese New Year. For instance, Taiwanese people will count themselves as being one year old when they’re born, and then they become a year older every Chinese New Year after they’ve finished eating a special food called tangyuan. I have never seen little children eat anything so fast in my entire life! A week before Chinese New Year my host father said to me “So, let me get this straight. You’re sixteen in America and fifteen in Taiwan, right?” I said “I don’t know what kind of wacky arithmetic you did, but I’m fourteen in America and fifteen in Taiwan.” We went back and forth for a long time and I finally figured out that he thought we are also one year old when we’re born and then we become a year older on Christmas. When I told him he was mistaken, he said “So when do you become a year older? I thought Christmas was your biggest holiday. Do you become a year older on Halloween?” He was very surprised to learn that we actually use our birthdays. “But then everyone becomes older at different times!!” he said. All I could say was “Well, that’s the idea.”

Another misconception Taiwanese people have about Christmas is that it is an American cultural holiday in the way that Chinese New Year is a Chinese/Taiwanese cultural holiday. When I tell them that since I come from a mixed background my family celebrates Christmas and Hanukkah, they say “Hanukkah? What’s that?” They are all very surprised to hear that Christmas is a Christian holidays and that there are many “real” Americans that don’t celebrate Christmas. They’re equally surprised to learn that a large part of Americans are not Christian. There are only a few Christian Taiwanese people. Most are Buddhists and at the same time worship a variety of gods, depending on whether they are ancestrally Chinese or if they areyuanzhuming, one of the aboriginal peoples of Taiwan.

However lacking in festivities the Taiwanese may have been over the Christmas season, they certainly made up for it over Chinese New Year. They have especially tasty little tradition called homebao. These are little red envelopes that people who work and make money give to those who don’t work. These are usually given by family members, and since I am an exchange student with five host families, I have a lot of family members. I actually calculated the total amount of money I made in red envelopes and it came to about $280 in American currency. I also made $25 in gambling. This is not what you think! It is a Chinese New Year tradition for families to gamble among themselves with cards or dice. We played dice: the family against my host father. Since Baba kept rolling incredibly low numbers, everyone except him made the equivalent of at least $10 American dollars. He kept borrowing from Mama in the hopes that he’d win his money back. (He never did.)

Another guonian tradition is something called dasao, which I liken to our spring-cleaning. When I asked my sister Hsiao-Chu what dasao meant she said “It means you clean everything.” When she said everything she meant everything, from the car to the dog to the window screens to the ceiling (have you ever seen anyone mop the ceiling before?). We even shined the leather on all the leather furniture in the house (which made the furniture so greasy that we had to sit on the floor for a day). We had ample time to do all of this since we had a month off from school for Chinese New Year. All of Taiwan closes down for about ten days during Chinese New Year, which means that I traveled around more of Taiwan in a week long period than I have for my entire stay here.

First, I went with Rotary to Nantou, and later to Taipei. There, we visited the tallest building in the world, Taipei 101. They have the fastest elevator in the world. It goes 80mph, which was fast enough to make my ears pop. They only let people go up to the 89th floor, but that was high enough to look down on the clouds (an experience that one more usually associates with an airplane). Later, when were eating lunch, a Rotary shushu selected four students, all from different countries, to eat with the chairman of Taipei 101 and to be the speakers later on when we met the mayor of Taipei. I know my Rotary back home will be pleased to know that out of the seventeen American exchange students in Taiwan, I was chosen to represent America. I gave the mayor my name card and a Florida Gator pin and he gave me an autographed name card. All Taiwanese presidents have first been mayors of Taipei and everyone tells me that the current mayor will probably be president someday. So, I think I can safely say that I have the autograph of the future president of Taiwan.

I also went to Lukang over the holidays with Rotary. I’d been there once before with my host parents. First, we had a barbecue…but in the old fashioned Taiwanese way. We actually dug up clods of dirt and built little dirt huts with holes in the bottom into which we inserted wooden boards. When the wood was heated, we used it to barbecue the food. I also learned to bargain in Lukang. Just to make this clear, bargaining is not a part of Taiwanese culture. It is a special privilege given to cute, light-haired exchange students. Every time my friends told me something was priced really expensively I would look at the vendor and say “Oh, but your stuff is so pretty and I really want to buy some to show to my friends back in America but only have (and here I name what I deem to be a reasonable price). My friends couldn’t believe that I was actually bargaining with the vendors (something Taiwanese girls would be far too shy even to attempt). Whenever my friends wanted to buy things they asked me to go up and tell the vendor that I was the one buying and to help them lower the price.

Besides learning to barbecue and bargain, I also got lost. It happened like this: a Rotary shushu gave my host sister Peiying and me a ride to the appointed meeting place. When we got there, we got out of the car, and he drove off with our bags and purses and cell phones and money all still in the car. He wasn’t stealing our things; I just think he was a little distracted. Anyhow, there was nothing we could really do so we just started following our group. After a little while, Peiying asked me where everyone was. I pointed in front of us to the people we’d been following, who, as it turns out, were total strangers. What had happened was that our group had turned onto another street and we had kept going straight. We, unfortunately, didn’t know that at the time. Peiying instantly started to panic, but I remembered someone saying the hotel was just ahead. So I insisted that we go all the way down to the end of the block and then told Peiying to just look at the signs and see which one was our hotel. Of course, none of them was our hotel. Then we walked back up the street because I knew there were people behind us, but there was no one there. Then I realized that I had put our group leader’s cell phone number on the flip side of my nametag. The only problem was, theshushu had driven off with both of our cell phones. So, when a vendor came up to us crying her wares, I asked her if she had a phone. She didn’t, but she was able to give us directions to our hotel (which was two steps away.) We were lost for a total of two minutes, but it was still a very valuable insight into Taiwanese culture for me. Peiying on her own would have been far too shy to ask anyone for directions and kept telling me how brave I was. I have to admit, I did feel a little silly telling her to follow me when I was the foreigner and she the native.

While getting lost was fun in its own unique way, the highlight of my experience in Lukang was watching one of the Chinese New Year parades. The people in the parade were throwing handfuls of candy into the crowd, but every time they saw me they would walk right up to me and give me a generous handful of candy. I thought that was sweet, but I don’t really eat candy. Better than the candy by far was the dragon. I actually ran out into the middle of the parade to get a quick picture with it. I thought the parade people might be upset, but once they saw what I was doing they backed the entire parade up (this parade is miles long, remember), just so that I could get a picture under the dragon’s head. They stopped the entire parade so that I could take as many shots as I wanted. Afterwards, a lot of the parade people came running back because they wanted to take a picture with thewaiguoren.

Shortly after coming back from Lukang, I moved to my third host family. They are just across the street from my first host family, and were not originally supposed to host me. My present host mother liked me so much that she asked special permission to be one of my host families. She talked to my second host mother, asking if I could move to her house within the week. After she got off the phone, my second host mother took me outside to talk to me. I was sure I was in trouble, and was waiting nervously for what she had to say. Then she says, “Ting-Ting, I don’t know if you’re a little princess or what, but everybody wants to host you. You do realize that this means you’ll have five host families?” I don’t mind having a lot of families. I think it’s fun to see how different families operate, and to have lots of host siblings. In my present host family I have three older sisters, Wanling, Shiying, and Peiying (the girl I got lost with). Wanling told me that I could use her English name, which is Barbie. Needless to say, I politely declined. I don’t think I would have been able to call her Barbie with a straight face. Now you know why I usually don’t mention my siblings’ English names in my web journals.

Nothing else really important has happened, but I want to talk about some of the cultural differences between America and Taiwan. These are not differences that I have just discovered in the last two months, but differences that I have been gradually becoming aware of and only now gotten around to writing about. Some of the differences I think of as bad things, and some I think of as changes for the better. For instance, the school buses here would definitely fall under the latter category. They have separate seats for every person (well-padded seats, mind you), foot-rests, curtains for the windows, personalized air conditioning, nets to put things in, and hooks on the seat in front of you to hang bags on. We Americans could really take some lessons from them. However advanced their school buses may be though, they are behind in a lot of other things. Taiwan is by no means a third world country, but they are not as technologically advanced as America. Their washer machines have only one cycle and don’t really get thing clean. Basically all clothes that aren’t T-shirts and jeans have to be hand-washed. My host parents tell me that even then, if you really want to get things clean you should first hand-wash them and then put them in the washer machine. Very few families have dryers, and those that do only use them in the dead of winter because electricity is so expensive. If you forget to wash your uniform in time for school, you can always use a blow dryer. Most families have irons, but again, never use them because of the cost of electricity. No one has dishwashers, and people rarely use soap when washing the dishes. They believe that using soap is bad for their help. Likewise, many people don’t consider using soap a necessary part of washing their hands. Washing one’s hands means to put one’s hands under running water for approximately half a second, and then not even bothering to dry them. The school bathrooms have no toilet paper, soap, or paper towels. Students are expected to bring their own tissues to use toilet paper and, as I said, soap and paper towels are not considered a necessary part of washing one’s hands. Another American tradition that I miss is napkins. At least in my mind, napkins aren’t just a vital part of American polite society, but they also have a practical use, especially when using chopsticks. By the way, have you ever seen anyone eat soup with chopsticks before? What about ice cream?

The final cultural difference I would like to mention is the Chinese preoccupation with catching cold. They believe that getting a cold is due to literally being cold. This means that a typical Taiwanese person will wear three layers when it’s 80 degrees Fahrenheit out. If I dress in a shorts and a T-shirt, (which in America would be considered weather appropriate) they tell me to hurry up and put a sweater on or I will catch a cold. I continually tell them that I’m fine and I won’t get a cold. They grudgingly acquiesce. If I utter so much as one sneeze, whatever the reason, they are completely vindicated. Once I’ve sneezed, they’ll brook no arguments. They hustle me inside and make me put a few more layers on and drink hot tea. The desirable temperature for your hands is so hot that you’re actually sweating. If my hands are cool, they’ll make me put another layer on, saying that my hands are “cold”, and if my hands are actually cold, they use the word “icy”. Also, they think that if you’ve just been exercising and you’re sweating, standing under a fan or drinking cool beverages are terribly dangerous to your health. After I practice Japanese dancing in the hot attic room of my second host family and go to drink cool water, the Rotary ayis will all crowd around with concern and ask if it mightn’t be better if I drank hot tea. While this is annoying at times, I also find it amusing. If I am caught in a short-sleeved shirt in a temperature less than ninety degrees, I am almost guaranteed to have every single person I talk to start the conversation with, “Aren’t you cold? Won’t you catch a cold?” I understand that it is people’s concern for me that leads them to ask these questions, so I don’t mind. It is all part of the experience!

Sincerely,

Zhang Ting-Ting

P.S. I made the local newspaper. You’d think the whole town knows who I am by now!

June 13 Journal

So much has happened since I last wrote. Time really does fly when you’re on exchange. It seems unbelievable to me that it’s almost time for me to go home. Anyhow, starting from where I left off last time, at the end of March I attended a Rotary event called the nianhui. This is an annual two-day Rotary festival where all the Rotarians in Taiwan get together, along with some Rotarians from nearby Asian countries, and basically share culture and activities with each other. Every Rotary club puts on a show, all the Rotarians dress to the nines, and everyone sets up booths to promote their Rotary club’s programs, etc. I actually ended up performing twice. The first time was with all the ladies in my Rotary club, doing traditional Japanese dancing and wearing kimonos and the like. I really stood out, because not only was I the only dancer under forty, but of course I’m Caucasian. Our dancing teacher had me lead the dance or would position me smack in the middle of the stage whenever she could so that people would be sure to notice me (as if I wasn’t going to be the center of attention no matter where I stood). Because the auditorium was so big, there were overheads on either side of the stage to give close-ups on the dancers. My friends told me later that the cameramen focused on me for most of the time.

On the second day all of the District 3460 exchange students were scheduled to sing a song in Taiwanese. While we were waiting for the show before us to finish, I went backstage to find some tissues. I was wearing my qipao (Chinese traditional dress) and before I could get any near the tissues performers surrounded me and started clamoring for me to take pictures with them. I could do nothing but acquiesce. Fifteen minutes later, one of the stage crew comes running backstage to find me, telling me that I’ve got to hurry and get my microphone on because it’s almost our turn! We actually had those microphones that you slip over your head, just like pop stars wear. All I can say is, being a foreigner in Taiwan is good practice for anyone who wants to be a celebrity when they grow up.

In April, I went on the six day Culture Tour with Rotary. Because my district, 3460, hasn’t yet fully broken away from the mother district in Taipei, 3480, I actually belong to both districts and so can participate in all of their trips and activities. This means that I actually got to go on two culture tours, once with District 3480 and once with District 3460. On the 3480 trip, there were also three university Rotary Ambassadorial Scholarship students with us, which was interesting (especially for them, since when they were invited on the trip they didn’t know that there were going to be upwards of eighty high school students along).

Anyhow, we drove around the whole country, looking at temples and mountain scenery. We also watched the aborigines perform their traditional songs and dances, ate Hakka food, and spent a day at the beach. As to the accommodations, one of the nights we stayed at a five star hotel, complete with its own beach, indoor swimming pool, and water park, and another night we stayed at a hotel where the air conditioning was broken, there were no towels or soap in the bathroom, the room was infested with mosquitoes, the shower water had one temperature: freezing, and the coverlets on the bed were thick enough to be used in winter. The general opinion among the exchange students was that maybe one was supposed to balance out the other. 

Just a few days after we got back from the 3480 Culture tour, I went on the 3460 Culture Tour. This was similar to the 3480 one, but more fun, since there were less people in general and most of them were people I knew. Both trips included all the outbounds for that year, and although I was unfamiliar with most of the Taipei (3480) outbounds, many of the Taichung (3460) outbounds were my host siblings. This is because of a rule in Taichung that says if your child becomes an exchange student, you have to host a student for a year. The Taichung Rotarians are a very close-knit group, and they believe that with anyone they don’t know (i.e. any non-Rotarian family), they can’t guarantee exchange students’ safety. Therefore, 100% of the 3460 outbounds are the children of Rotarians, and every one of my five host families was a Rotary family. I didn’t realize this at first and when my friends questioned me about the exchange program I told them that anyone could apply, and I gave them our Rotary chairman’s email, who wrote back saying that they would have to go through Taipei since Taichung only took Rotarians’ children. That was a little embarrassing for me, since I had been encouraging a lot of my friends to apply. Also, I felt like it took something out of the experience, not only because all of my families lived in the same area, were friends with the same people, and lived very similar lifestyles, but because a lot of times on Thanksgiving or Christmas or on someone’s birthday, I would go to show my host family something of the way Americans celebrate these things and they would say “Oh we know, our last exchange student showed us that.” All of my families had hosted at least one American student before, in some cases two, and most of the gifts I brought or cultural experiences I shared they had already seen or heard of before. That made me feel less special, almost like I wasn’t achieving the purpose of my exchange, which is to exchange cultures. I still get the benefits, I still learn about Taiwanese culture, but it’s like I’m not holding up my end of the bargain. I think that when exchange students always go to the same few families, the whole experience becomes unremarkable and everyday to them and, especially with students from the same country, they tend to have a deja-vu attitude. This can really affect the experience for the exchange student. Also, I recently discovered that my monthly allowance was not, in fact, paid by my Rotary club but by my first host family, because their daughter is an exchange student in America now. The Rotary rule in Taichung is that if your child goes out for a year, you pay the allowance money for the incoming student. This made me feel a little uncomfortable since, in my view, the whole point of the exchange program is that it is a scholarship program, and students whose families might not otherwise be financially able to send them abroad for a year can still participate. With student’s families having to host and pay allowance money, however, students can only go out if their families are financially well off in the first place.

Despite all this, I did have a good time on the trip, especially since our first activity was to visit an amusement park with some really neat roller coasters. They had one that climbed up to a peak and turned a 90-degree angle and just hung suspended for a few seconds before it dropped straight down. I’d never been on a roller coaster that was actually vertical before I came to Taiwan. Also, I had moved to my fourth host family just before I went on the trip, and my new sister and I wore matching clothes, which everyone thought was really cute. In my new host family, I have three host sisters, Chiawei (16), Chiaying (12), and Chiaming (11). We also have a Vietnamese maid, which is nice, even though she can barely speak Chinese, which makes it kind of hard to communicate.

Another major event that has happened over the past few months is that I finally met the mayor of Taichung. Rotary figured that since we had already met the mayor of Taipei we should at least meet the mayor of our own city. I got his autograph in addition to that of the mayor of Taipei (who, by the way, will be running for president in three years time. My prophetic soul!). Afterwards, I went shopping with the other exchange students, since we don’t get to get together very often. I regretted that the next day though, when I saw how far I fell behind in cheerleading. Recently, I’ve been getting involved with a lot of activities with my school, including our intramural class cheerleading contest, traditional Chinese model dancing with the cosmetology program, and performing for the middle school students who come to see the school. The cheerleading is an annual tradition at Ming Tai High School that has been going on for more than twenty years. Since students don’t change classrooms like we do in America, but instead stay with the same class throughout high school, it is possible to have a lot of contests between classes. The cheerleading contest is one of these. We actually choreograph all our own moves, and rent pompoms and cheerleading outfits, etc. Everybody thought it was really funny that in all the cheerleading pictures taken, you could instantly pick me out just by looking at people’s bellies, because I have a white fish belly while most Asians have darker skin tone. I really do stand out in a crowd, whether you’re looking from the top, in which case I stand out for my hair color, or from the middle, in which case I stand out for my skin color.

Traditional Chinese model dancing was part of the program for the second semester “show” at my school. For the first semester show I watched in awe as the dancers performed, for the second semester I was given the opportunity to be a part of it. All of the dancers in my group wore traditional qipaos, two in red, two in blue, two in purple, and only me in hot pink. I was the center stage dancer, even though I don’t think I danced half as well as they did. At one point, I even got down off the stage and went among the audience, blowing kisses, etc. I did trip on the hem of my skirt a few times (the skirt was too long and my high heeled shoes were too big, so the skirt kept catching in the back of the shoes), I managed not to fall flat on my face. I’d never worn anything with heels bigger than a half-inch before, and it was all I could do when I was going downstairs off the stage not to go head over heels. All the same, it was a lot of fun, especially the false hair (which was at least a foot high and extremely heavy). I wish someone had been there to videotape the seven of us trying to go to sleep over naptime without being able to put our heads down because that would ruin our make-up, not being able to put our heads back because of the false hair, and not being comfortable with our heads straight because of the weight. We finally got to sleep with our heads tilted forward. The funniest thing though, was that since I was the center stage dancer, I had an understudy. One time when I had a schedule conflict between the cheerleading contest and one of our dance performances, my understudy had to go up and dance. The only problems was, my false hair was spray painted gold to match my real hair, and you can imagine how that looked on someone with black hair!

Another of my school activities was performing for the middle school students. Most middle schools will take their students on a trip to visit every high school in town, and since there are twenty something middle schools here, that’s a lot of students. Every high school, of course, wants to recruit the best students, and Ming Tai does this by making a show of everything new or different about the school. Well, you bet that an exchange student classifies as both new and different, so they asked me to sing an English song and make a little speech to the middle schoolers. I agreed to this, but they also asked me to go down among the students when I was done and shake hands and blow kisses with them. “You know, just like big celebrities do.” They told me. Well, that I did not agree to.

Another thing that I’ve been involved with in school is that whenever the principal is entertaining distinguished guests I am invited to come and chat with them for a while, because guests are invariably impressed that the school has an American exchange student and that she speaks such good Chinese. Sometimes, if the guests are foreign, I am even called in to act as interpreter. In one case, a dance troupe from Sri Lanka came to perform at our school and I was called in to interpret for them, as they spoke excellent English but no Chinese. I was seated next to them while they watched the show so that I could explain the various acts to them, otherwise they would have missed a lot of the unique aspects of the performance. One of the most interesting of these events, however, was when the vice provost of a Kansas university called Fort Hayes State University came to our school to promote their long distance degree program with Taiwan. It was interesting because I was at a unique advantage, being able to understand, both linguistically and culturally, both what the vice provost said and what her translator said. The vice provost, Ms. Eliot, gave a normal, easy-going, American presentation, and her translator translated less than half of what she said and turned it into a stiff-backed, very formal, very correct Taiwanese presentation (you know, the kind that puts you to sleep within five minutes). Ms. Eliot’s presentation was actually very lively and energetic and interesting, but you would never know it from her translator. Any jokes, teasing comments, etc. he completely left out of his presentation. Later, when the school officials took Ms. Eliot to see the drinks mixing studio, she completely flustered one poor girl who was in the middle of practice for her bartender’s license test. At first, she couldn’t get the lemon properly affixed on the glass, and when she did Ms. Eliot said “Oh good job! I knew you’d get it!” (in English of course). Then Ms. Eliot actually went over and gave her a hug and started telling her how well she’d done and the poor girl didn’t know what to do because teachers in Taiwan just don’t behave like that. She just stared straight ahead the whole time, with her face getting steadily redder and redder. Then Ms. Eliot went and stood on her tiptoes and settled her chin on the drinks mixing teacher’s shoulder, asking him if she could taste the drink. I thought the teacher’s eyes were going to pop out of his face.

October 16 Journal

Okay…I know how much everyone of my Rotary peep’s and their parents have been anxiously waiting for this journal from possibly the most extroverted person in the group…so, here it goes. I have been in Switzerland for almost 10 weeks now, and I can honestly say that it feels like I have been here for about a month. I’m going to try and organize this thing the best I can, so I will start with the beginning and then how these 10 weeks have changed me into a different Monica.

I arrived in Zurich on Saturday, August 7th, 2004 at 10:35am (one hour late). The plane ride was tiring and somewhat worrisome. I was so tired from the flying, time changes, and going to the beach and staying up all night the night before my flight (I know mom…bad idea), that when I finally got to Switzerland I just wanted to find a bed and go to sleep. When I first came here, it didn’t really hit me like I was in a different country, but instead that I was just here. I would hear people speak to me and I would answer back, but then when I would try to remember what was being asked…it was like it had never happened…I am still like that today.

For the first two weeks I was here, I lived with my Rotary counselor and officer. I really have to thank these two people for taking me in and helping me more than anyone could have my first two weeks here. I learned so much German and so much more about Switzerland that I had never known before. Then, I started a three week language school the second week I was here. I didn’t really learn anything that would help me in school or in the real Swiss life, but it was fun to get to know the other inbounds that live close to me and go with them to Luzern (I know Elliott … your fav. city) and walk around and see Luzern. Then, after three weeks of language school I went to my real school…The Kollegi. The school…is crazy. I take so many different subjects and so many of them I have never had before…this though, makes it so much better because then when I go back to the states I’ll be able to pass everything. I’m not going to go into detail, I’m just going to say that they put me in the math class…they take 2 maths and they are Calculus and Angewandte (don’t ask). I don’t really understand these to the fullest yet, but everyday I work hard. I only went to school for two weeks and then it was three weeks holiday (one week hiking in the mountains with my class) and then I am back at school until December.

I really want to go into detail about this hiking week with my class, because even though it was the hardest thing for me to ever do (carrying a 16kilo rucksack and walking from Switzerland to Italy…literally), in the end I loved it and wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. I met so many people from my class and got to be included in everything they were doing. I learned Swiss games with cards (still don’t fully understand, but its all good) and so many stories that my class has shared together. We made inside jokes, and I am now…the “Gangsta Mutha” of the “Gangsta Babies”…funny, I know. I pulled muscles and wanted to take the bus, but the girls in my class said…”You’ll regret it…don’t go…stay with us.” I did in the end, and I am so happy now. I used Italian toilets and didn’t have a shower. I wore the same pair of pants for 4 days. I did so many things that I would have never even thought of in the states, that I have done here and I love all of it. I have walked up a lot of mountains since I have been here, and just a few weeks ago I went to a ski place (Titlus) for the first snow of the season. I played in the snow in -4C temperature with some other inbounds from Canada and Australia…it was so great to see the snow for the first time…I LOVE THE SNOW!!! Now I am going to start snowboarding…thanks Livi for your stuff.

The language was extremely hard at first, and since in Switzerland they don’t even speak real German that makes it even worse, but I am starting to understand a lot of Swiss German and I find myself thinking of what to say and everything in German. I have found out that I can be Monica in English and the same Monica in German…it was hard, but I found a way to overcome that barrier. I have learned so much and am grateful for every single thing given to me here and back home. I left family, friends, and my Rotary gang who I love more than anyone. I have had homesickness (for about a week) and I thought…”Why am I doing this?…I had so much more back home.” I still don’t know why I am doing this, right now, I’m just going with what’s given to me and taking it as an experience I will never forget.

I have changed into a person I somewhat don’t even recognize in the mirror. I eat with a fork and knife (fork in left and knife in right hand), I don’t eat all of the Taco Bell (waiting for it Mom), and I don’t burp or fart (remember last orientation Jen)… I have become a polite nice little girl and when I come back…you guys are going to flip. The good thing though, is that I haven’t forgotten who the real me is, and I am still the funny, obnoxious, loud person that I was in Florida…just toned down a bit at times.

Well, I think that is it for now, but I want to shout out to some people and thank them for everything that they have ever done for me: my parents (here and in Florida), my siblings (here and in Florida), my Rotary gang (here and in Florida), every Rotary guy in Florida and all of them here in Switzerland. Livi- I am so happy to hear that you are okay, and hope that you are having a great time in Florida…I’ll be in your house in December I think. Well, I will send pics in a couple of days (lots) and I love all of you….

Monica

November 6 Journal

Okay…so I have been in Switzerland for 3 months now…the time has actually started to feel normal …it’s about time. I know that it hasn’t been that long since I wrote, but I have a lot to say so I think it’s time to write again.

First…Katie came last weekend…that’s right…Katie…in France…came to see me…in Switzerland. I was so happy to see her and show her my life here and my German skills. We talked about all of the good times we shared together through the summer and it was nice to reminice (spelling I know…englisch sucks now). I took her to a Halloween Party with some friends from school and it was so much fun. We ended up being the only 5 teenagers there, but it was still fun. She came at a good time too because I was starting to have problems with my family and she helped me through it…saying, “Monica, you’re strong…don’t even think about going home.” Well, Katie came for about 3 days and then was off to France…it was a nice visit and I can’t wait till we all get back…Summer ’05 baby…

Well…I have started a normal routine and it’s finally getting boring…I go out with friends from school and speak German…the normal stuff I guess I would do back in states…except the German part. The language is coming…considering I started out with no German whatsoever I think I’ve come a long way and am proud. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking though…mainly about what I’m doing and where my life is going to be when I get back. I thought I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up and which college I wanted to go to and all of the stuff I needed to be thinking about…SAT’s. Now, I just don’t know anything…and even though it scares me, I’ve come to accept the fact that I just need to start living my life here and worry about making good grades here and everything. I’m not really homesick anymore…just trying to still remember the good things that I took for granted back home. This year changes you in a way you would never think…it shows you what you had that was so good that you never knew was good until you’re not there. I know this probably doesn’t make sense, but it doesn’t have to…aren’t you guys proud…I’m maturing…maybe not…I dunno.

Now I have to talk about Halloween and Thanksgiving…European people just don’t have these…they’re too American. Halloween was a sad time…I love trick-or-treating, but I decided that I could live one year without that so I just sat at home and chilled with Katie…still had fun dancing to random mixes. Thanksgiving though…I’m gonna try and cook dinner for my family…of course, I will have help from other people, but it should be nice to show them some of American traditions…that’s what I’m here for…showing and learning at the same time.

Okay…so in September I did go in the snow, but it was on a mountain where I am going to start snowboarding maybe. I do have pics, but I have to learn how to email them, so when I do, I will email some pics. Snow…well, it’s cold, but it’s the greatest thing on earth…maybe tied with the ocean and surfing though.

Well, I have to go because I’m late for a train…

Tscüss,

Monica

March 3 Journal

So, since I haven’t written in such a long time I can’t really update everyone on what I have been up to because that would take way too long; instead I am going to tell all of you about something that happened here in Switzerland that changed my year and something that I will always remember…My Family.

I changed from my first to my second host family on December 27th. It would have been earlier but I had told my counselor here that there was no way I was going to move a week before Christmas, so after much deliberation I got to stay. I know that I had said in my last journal that I was having some problems with my family, but it wasn’t problems that they caused, it was problems that I was creating within myself. You see, I had some serious problems with attachment and abandonment from when I was younger and they were still there. When I had to move from my counselor’s house to my real family, I had gotten so attached to my counselor and her family after only two weeks, that I didn’t want that to happen again. The first two months with my first family were not as good as they could have been because I closed myself off to them…I wasn’t really me. This wasn’t good for me or my family. I had written my counselor telling her that I couldn’t live there anymore and that I wanted to move, but there was no reason why I shouldn’t have liked it there.

Finally, my host mom couldn’t take it anymore and asked me: “Monika, do you like it here by us?” Of course, I said yes because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but my host mom could see it in my face and eyes that something wasn’t right. So, she sat me down and we talked for about two hours…just on my problems with attachment and everything that I have. My host mom taught me that it’s good to change families because you get to see different parts of the culture (I know…Rotary already told me this). She said that my families want to learn about Florida and America. She also said that it’s so much better when I’m open and talkative and really me, than being so reserved and not speaking. After this talk with my host mom, I made such an effort to be more open and really me…and that’s when it all clicked. I wasn’t always perfect in this family, and in fact, I got in A LOT of trouble when I was living with this family. I was spending too much time with the other exchange students which was degrading my German, I slept at other people’s houses too much, I almost got sent home, and there was one time where I had stayed out entirely too late. I still don’t know how my family dealt with this because I know that if I had done some of the things with my family in Florida like here…I wouldn’t probably be here.

My host parents though were the most understanding people I think I have ever met, and it was so much better when I was honest with them than trying to hide it (which in fact I never did). This family did so much for me in ways that I will never be able to repay them, but I think that they know just how much I really love them. They taught me things I thought I could never learn. My host mom taught me how to cook special Swiss meals and things that will help me not only with my exchange year, but also with the rest of my life. She was there for me when I needed someone to talk to or just a hug or…a mom. My host dad was probably the funniest person I have met so far here in Switzerland. We laughed together, joked together, and ate Fleisch (meat) together. He was there for me when I was down or missing my real dad…he was a great host dad. My sister…well, we had our problems sometimes but that’s completely normal. She taught me how to not get into so much trouble and that it’s good to be “me”. We went to movies together, shopping, and eating. She had her life and I had mine, but we made days for each other…and they were great. This family dealt with my dad calling at 9am expecting me to be awake…and the funny thing is is that my family can’t really speak English and so them trying to explain that I’m asleep was priceless. They provided me with the best food I think I could have imagined…which is why I probably gained 6 kilos (3.5 now). They weren’t only my host family…but my family.

I moved two days after Christmas. We were being hosted by my new host family for a sort of dinner type thing. So, we hauled my now 3 suitcases to my new family and ate. I was doing extremely well at first…not crying and being strong. But at around 11:30pm when everyone was getting tired and wanting to go to sleep…it hit me that I wasn’t going too…I was staying. I just couldn’t help it…I cried and I didn’t care anymore. It was the hardest thing for me…to leave my host mom that had been more of a mom to me in my four months here. She talked me through it, and even though the tears didn’t stop it helped. To see my dad, mom, and sister leave while I was still crying was probably the worst thing for both sides.

Well, I know I can go to visit my family anytime I want, and actually I do, but I truly love this family as well, and having to think about how I’m moving in three weeks makes me want to cry…which is why I don’t think about it.

Well, I think that I have written a lot, but I just want to say this to the new outbound class (man…does that sound weird): be yourselves, be open, don’t be scared. People say it’s hard to be the same in English and in another language…but for me, it really wasn’t that big of a problem. You just have to not think about what people are going to think or say…”just do it.”

Congratulations Outbound Class 2006…your journey begins now. Congratuliert Hanna…Die Schweiz ist ein tolle Land.

Guys (you know who you are I hope)…can’t wait til Welcome Home Dinner…jammin in the van!

Jilly (Mommy)…thanks for letting me do my thing…I love you!!!

Okay…Tschüss

Monika…Smöni vo Floida (can’t say the r)

August 18 Journal

It’s amazing how much can happen in just over two weeks. I arrived on Saturday, July 31st after 24 hours of traveling (land and air time) and no sleep for a little more than 30 hours. I was way too excited to get any sleep on the plane, no matter how hard I tried. I spent the time watching movies, writing in my journal, listening to music, and hanging out with all the other Rotary exchange students that were traveling the same flight. My family picked me up at the Århus airport and there was the expected nervousness and awkward silences. I dozed off for most of the ride back to the house, but I couldn’t help notice the beautiful and different landscape.

Many Danes have asked me why I didn’t go to Norway or Sweden where there are beautiful hills and mountains. They think that Denmark isn’t really very pretty, but that it has other good features. However, when compared to the flat Florida landscape, the Danish rolling hills of Århus are welcome. There are certain places that you can stand where you can see the whole city.

My first host family is very nice. It consists of my host parents, Keld and Rikke, my host sister, Julie, and host brother, Frederik. They also have a girl my age, Sofie, who will be spending the year in Canada. In her absence, I will be taking her room. I met Sofie a few days before she had to leave. She showed me some areas downtown and taught me some of the bus system. She was a lot more depressed than I was about leaving. I did not cry when I said goodbye, nor did I have any urge to so for quite some time. It wasn’t until the end of my first week here that I shed any tears. My eyes would water cry at random things that should not have triggered tears. This lasted for about
3 days, and during that time I felt stabs of homesickness. I wasn’t homesick for Florida, I was homesick for family. That passed quickly though, and I am now a very happy person.

I am making many friends here. The people in my class are very nice and accepting. They try and help me out as much as possible and I spend a lot of time with them. One of my first days of school, two friends of mine took me downtown and bought me some ice cream (mango, passion fruit, and hindbær flavors). We had a great time getting to know each other. I remember that at one of the orientations we were told something a former student said, “I wish they could know me in English.” I don’t feel the same way. In Denmark, people CAN know you in English. Instead, I think, “I wish they can know me in Danish.” I want to be able to speak Danish. To be able to join in a conversation and understand everything that is going on. I don’t feel comfortable with people translating for me and saying things twice (first in Danish to the other people, then in English to me.) This is my main motivation in learning the language. Today I will start my weekly Danish course, and next week I will be at a language camp in Copenhagen. Hopefully, I will be able to start picking out words when the teacher speaks to us soon.

I’ll have a lot more to talk about next month.

Hej hej!

-sharon

September 28 Journal

Hej everyone!

Well, my quest to learn Danish is progressing very fast. I can hold a conversation with my friends and generally understand the dinner table talk. The key is to not be timid. I make plenty of mistakes, and I practically have a flashing sign over my head screaming “FOREIGNER” when I open my mouth, but I don’t care. I say what’s on my mind and my sentences become more comprehensible as time goes by.

And time is flying. It has already been more that two months! I try and keep busy, but in Denmark that is a little hard to do. I have to be very forward and get my friends’ schedules at least a week before hand, so we can plan something to do on the weekend. Nothing spontaneous here. If I wait too long to see what they are doing, then the slot will already be filled and they will be too busy to hang out. Everyone carries around their student calendar/ appointment book, and they seem to be really organized. I’m looking into joining the clubs here. If not sports, then maybe a photography class or something similar.

I am going to change host families on November 1st. That seems far away, but I am sort of looking forward to it. My current family is a perfectly nice and normal family, but there is nothing holding me back from moving to the next one. My host siblings ignore me, and I get pretty lonely in the house. Maybe the next family will be better.

As far as school goes, I have settled into a general routine. There are certain classes where the teacher ignores me and as long as I turn in the rare assignments we are fine. In some classes I have special assignments that help me learn Danish. For instance, in my Danish class yesterday I wrote a poem describing the character of Gainesville, Florida. The rest of the students are analyzing an intense poem written by the Danish equivalent of Shakespeare, so it is understood that I have no clue what is going on. The special assignments are helpful in these cases.

Some interesting thing I have done lately include:
– Going to a Danish football (soccer) match. Very spirited and loud.
– Rotary camps where I met all the “oldies” from Australia and New Zealand.
– Going to many birthday parties and school festivals. It seems like everyone has their birthday in September!
– Learning the city like the back of my hand.
– Preparing for the Århus Kulturnat. (My city’s Culture Night)
– And I am currently starting a search for a Coffee House. They are practically non-existent here, but I have heard of some.

Well, that’s it for now.

Vi ses næst måned

-sharon

October 27 Journal

Hej! So another month has gone by. My definition of time is definitely changing. The length of one week no longer has the meaning.

I’ve been pretty busy the past couple of weeks. I have already moved to my second host family. This family seems pretty nice. They are very different from my last one in several ways. I no longer have younger siblings. Instead, there is a girl my age, Kathrine, and an older guy named Andreas. We have a dog too! This family is really loud, outgoing, and active, whereas my last family was calm, quiet, and collected. I enjoy both so it all works out for me. Adjustment to a new surrounding is coming on pretty easy. I decorated my new room with pictures I have drawn and I’ve fallen in love with the outcome. I should really consider interior design… it’s a lot of fun. My host mom is really into art, so we have a lot in common. She suggested that we can paint together and stuff. She also said I can use her painting room whenever I want. It looks like it will be a lot of fun.

I never thought I would say this, but I actually miss homework. They don’t really assign homework to the students here, and when they do it is something way over my head. One of my teachers still has me doing little assignments, but the rest don’t really ask for any. I’m starting to wonder how the grading system works… no assignments, no tests… what is there to grade? I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

I’ll write more about what is going on here really soon, since I can’t think of anything to write right now. I do, however, have some news for you guys to think about….

MY FAMILY IS MOVING BACK TO FLORIDA! Not back to the same city, but I will still be able to visit and everything. I can come to the welcome home dinner and see all of you guys again. It looks like they will be going to New Port Richey in Pasco County (near Tampa for those of you who don’t know where that is.) I was sort of looking forward to England… but it makes so much more sense to be back in the states on so many levels.

As I said, I’ll tell you all more later, when I actually have something to write. And I’ll throw in some pictures too…

Hilsen, Sharon

November 29 Journal

So much has happened, so much to say…. where do I start? Hmmm…let’s do this chronologically then.

First off… I would like to thank everyone who told me I should keep a journal. You were so right.  I have been actively writing in a journal (for the first time in my life) and I’m very glad to have it. Actually, I’m currently on volume 2 since the first book filled up so quick. It also makes recaps like this so much easier.

I failed to mention some of the more exciting parts of October in my last entry. Such as the demonstrations that Megan told you guys about. I’ll just quote what I wrote about it at the time… It’s a lot more lively that way.

Tuesday, October 05, 2004 – “This is pretty exciting. My school is in the middle of a demonstration against education cuts. The students are barricading the doors and blocking the teachers from getting into their rooms. Actually, all the students managed to get all the teachers out of the class rooms and heard them into the teacher’s lounge with a series of human walls. It was really quite easy for them to accomplish because the teachers all agree with the students on the issue that they were protesting (they just weren’t allowed to voice their opinions or they would risk losing their jobs.) Half of the school just left to protest down at the town hall while the others stay and hold up the fort here. I’m learning a lot about what the different political opinions of the youth are. I wonder how many schools doing this. I know it is happening all over the country.”

Wednesday, October 06, 2004 – “Day two of demonstrations. Yesterday I headed down to the town hall at around 2 o’clock after “holding down the fort” at the school. There were hundreds of students down there. Very exciting. Then, last night, there had been a planned film festival that was still on. I went there and many students slept at the school so that when teachers and students arrive today everything will be blockaded. More than ever do I wish I had my camera here to photograph this. They have a series of chairs and stools in front of the door in the shape of Sata’s sled. They even have animals and decorations all over it. There is an old fashioned alarm clock with wires attached that looks like a fake bomb around the chairs. That would SO get someone arrested in the states. They also have this inflatable alligator on top of the chair pile to “ward off” all who dare enter. Its a lot of fun. I don’t know how long it will go on though. A lot of people do not agree with it. I’m not taking any political sides in this, I’m just observing and learning. To me, it sounds like the demonstrating group would be the extreme liberals in the states. Even though the two political systems are incomparable. After this demonstration I am to give a speech about the USA to a class of 8th graders. (that means slow speaking and hopefully they will pick up some of my English) I just got the information on what I am to talk about last night. It should be easy.”

Thursday, October 07, 2004 – “Day THREE of demonstrating!  It ends today though. They were demonstrating in the morning, and then everyone voted and we ended up heading to class instead. Classes just resumed as if nothing had happened and the demonstrations weren’t even mentioned.”

I spent Halloween with all the other exchange students in Denmark. It was nice to meet all the “oldies” (the exchange students who arrived in the winter) but it was also sad because it was the last time we would see any of them. It was actually a weekend put on by rebound exchange students from Denmark who went to America and fell in love with the tradition.  Here are a few pics from that weekend:

Moving onto November…

This month has been SO busy. Filled with ups and downs.  The downs being the discovery of exactly how much weight I have gained since I have been here. My clothes still fit so I’m not worried there, but I have become more physically active. Now every Sunday I rollerblade around the lake (10 kilometers). It also makes for some quality bonding time with my host sister, Kathrine, who joins me.   

I’ve also noticed the weather a lot lately. The absolute beauty of autumn was stunning. And when that disappeared I was captivated by the way the frost glittered all over the city. Then we had snow! It only lasted one day and then it rained and turned into slushy mush… but it was snow all the same! It’s gotten a lot warmer since then.

How about I quote a few more of my journal entries…

Wednesday, November 24, 2004 – “I went to this movie that was all in French with Danish subtitles with my French class. I was amazed at how much I understood. It is so much easier to read Danish than to listen to it. I know I am not happy with the amount of Danish I speak. I spend way too much time speaking English because it is so easy to just fall back on. But after watching this movie I thought back to when I first came and how much Danish I knew then and I realize that maybe I have learned a thing or two. I now understand what people are saying… I just need to work on speaking it myself.”

I truly believe that it is harder to learn the language here than in some of the other countries because of how much English everyone knows. My friends flip from Danish to English and than back to Danish without even realising it, and they do that with themselves too, not just with me. TV and movies are in English, the radio is dominated by American singers,  and often the billboard advertisements are even in English. I’ve come to realise that this is part of the culture. American culture and Danish culture are so intertwined that I can no longer pick out the differences between the two. It’s hard for me to remember if the meal I am eating is something we have back in the states as well, and stuff like that. When speaking English people here either have a Danish accent or an American accent, and they use American slang all the time.  

Thursday, November 25, 2004 “THANKSGIVING! It completely and totally rocked!  I made all the classics…turkey, stuffing, yams, green beans, biscuits, corn bread, deviled eggs, potatoes and gravy. I had tons of help from my host mom with getting the ingredients, but I ended up cooking most of it myself. I had a blast though. I truly enjoy being busy and stressed. After everything was cooked I kept pacing the kitchen trying to find something to do until my friend Julie looked ate me and was like… “Sharon, slappe af!” which means calm down in Danish. Two of my friends came; Julie and Camilla, and my host family consisted of 6; my host parents, sister, brother, grandma, aunt, uncle, and cousin, and then 3 family friends came as well. So in total, 13 people showed up for the dinner and I am happy to say that it was successful. Everything tasted the way it should and people seemed to love all the food. They were sceptical at first with the thought of marshmallows on top of sweet potatoes that are an orange color, but they loved the taste. And stuffing is the hardest thing to describe in Danish.”

Sunday, November 28, 2004  – “First Christmas tradition of the year! I woke up and noticed I had a Santa hat tied to the doorknob outside my bedroom. Inside the hat was a little gift! I opened it and there were the most beautiful earrings inside. My host mom rocks! So I learned that this is the start of Advent and every Sunday until Christmas we will be getting a present on our door when we wake up. So cool.”

The Christmas season is now upon us. The city is decorated in lights and everyone is getting into the spirit. I think I’m going to have a lot of fun celebrating Christmas. Not only will it be my first Christmas in Denmark, but it will be my first Christmas ever! The traditions are so different here, but I’ll wait to tell you guys all about that in my next entry.

Knus!

-Sharon

January 25 Journal

Hej alle! It’s about time I wrote another journal entry…sorry for the delay…

So I’m stuck at home with the flu… yes…home. Because that is what this place is to me now.

Home.

I never thought it was possible to have more than one home. If you think about it there isn’t any reason for there not to be. “Home is where the heart is,” and seeing as there are people with my heart all over the world, then I guess that means I truly have more than one home. Home is not a place, at least for me. I used to think about “home” and I would picture my mom, dad, and sisters. Now I when I think about “home” I see this little screen with arrows pointing in two separate directions. I follow one and I see the previously mentioned faces of my family. Then, if I follow the other arrow I see all the faces that I have encountered here, most prominent are my host family and friends.

So the people are my home, not the place of residence. This is important to know, seeing as I will be changing my place of residence at the end of this month. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I love my current host family. I fit in perfectly and I’m comfortable here. Staying with them has been an awesome experience and I’m not sure if I want that to end. I’m at the point where I look forward to telling my host mom what I did that day and casual banter with my host siblings comes naturally to me. My current host family organized a little get together with my next host family a few days ago. Nothing big, just a casual cup of coffee to talk over. I’m pretty sure this host family was just as curious as I was to see what my next one would be like. We discovered that they seem incredibly nice and they have a witty sense of humor. Sarcasm is something that the Danes have perfected. I wouldn’t be surprised if they invented it. Anyway, we talked about where I would live and what their life is like. There is promise of travel. The most recent being a trip to Paris on February 12th, the beginning of our winter break. It will last for 3 or 4 days and I am incredibly excited! Overall, I think I will love it at my next family as well. Which will hopefully add even more faces to my picture of “home.”

But I can write more about them later. I have been so incredibly busy that I haven’t been able to write about what has been going on since my last post. So lets recap on the last two months:

December began with the duty of deciding what our return date would be. I know, right? Only December, and we are already thinking about which date we should return on? Well I finally decided on June 3rd. So now that that is out of the way, at least I don’t have to worry about it. It did come up in a recent conversation, however. In my language class we were discussing the fact that a new batch of exchange students arrived on the 23rd. Officially changing our status of “newbies” to the more respectable status of “oldies.” It made us think about how time is moving so incredibly fast. I have been here for almost 6 whole months, meaning I only have 4 more months left in Denmark. Then someone said that 4 months is actually around 17 weeks. 17 Weeks! Barely anything on the scale of our lives. This is an open door of opportunity, but the door will only stay open for so long. I really need to make these remaining 17 weeks worthwhile.

Then on December 7th, the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah came. I took the opportunity to share with my host family aspects of my life. I told them the story of how the holiday came to be and we participated in some of the traditions together. They were with me when I lit the menorah for the first few times and on the last night some of my friends came over and we played dreidel. I only felt a slight twinge of the “holiday blues” that many exchangers get. It passed after talking with my family and listening to them celebrate the holiday over the phone. Here is a pic of the menorah that my family and I lit.

Later in the month, I took part in an awesome Danish Christmas. The week before Christmas I made tons and tons of cookies with my host sister, Kathrine and then on the 24th I went to the church with my host family. After that we all went to my host Uncle’s house and we spent ‘Juleaften’ or Christmas night there. We had a really traditional dinner and I had a good time getting to know everybody. Then Mads (host cousin), Kathrine, and I went to get all the gifts from the car and put them under the tree. Now there were millions of gifts. I’m amazed we fit them all under the tree. Once we were done we had to leave the room for my host Aunt and host Uncle to light the candles on the tree (they use real candles instead of Christmas lights to decorate the tree). When they finished they let everyone come back into the room and we all stood around the tree. Each person got to choose which Christmas song we wanted to sing, starting with the youngest child and working our way up. We held hands and danced, sung, and laughed around that tree. Then Mads, Kathrine and I took turns pulling out gifts and handing them out to everyone. I had so much fun and got so many cool things. Definitely a great first Christmas! But it doesn’t end there… In Denmark, not only do you have Christmas night on the 24th, you also have Christmas Day on the 25th, and Second Christmas Day on the 26th. I spent the 25th at Mathilde’s house for a ‘Jule frokost’ meaning Christmas lunch. Basically, it is just an excuse to eat lots of Christmas foods. And then everyone came to our house for the 26th to eat even more food. So much fun.

Then the beginning of January commenced with an awesome New Year’s. It started with a large get together at a family friend’s house where we ate more food and listened to the Queen’s traditional New Year’s speech. Afterwards, I went to a party at my friend Jakobe’s house. We saw the fireworks at the school (cause she lives right next to it and it has the best view) and they were really pretty. Instead of there being one huge professional show for you to watch there are fireworks all around you. Every other house in the city was setting off the expensive stuff. No matter which direction you turned you saw fireworks. It sounded like a battle zone (or is that battle field?) One tradition that stuck out in my head was that everyone stood on the chairs for the countdown and jumped down when the clock struck midnight. I’ve been told that this is not necessarily a Danish tradition but that it is still very popular among many Danes.

We also had a hurricane in the month of January. It was actually the first storm I experienced in Denmark. You get all sorts of weather here. In one week you can have rain, snow, hail, frost, wind, and clear skies. But we never seem to get actual storms here. I remember looking out the window and seeing the trees sway and bend. It reminded me of Florida. The sound of wind blowing the trees against the windows and branches falling on the roof. The only thing is… in Florida you also have the sound of pounding rain during a storm. That was missing here. It seemed to be all wind and only a slight drizzle of rain. Anyway, it was a HUGE deal to have a storm/tropical storm in Denmark. The whole country freaked out about that one.

And on the language front. Speaking Danish has been getting easier and easier. I think less about what I am saying and words seem to flow out of my mouth now. I consider myself rather fluent in the language, even if I have troubles with certain words in certain situations. Danish comes naturally to me now and I often think solely in Danish without realizing it.

The last thing I wanted to mention is that I have been in a REALLY great mood lately. For no apparent reason the past month has been just awesome. Everyone says that this is where the exchange gets good, and I have a feeling that they are very right.

KNUS,

Sharon

March 20 Journal

Wow, I’m amazed at how much has happened since I wrote last. The beginning of my exchange year had periods where I had absolutely nothing to do and therefore nothing to write about. Since then, my plate has had more and more piled onto it. To the point where I do not have enough time to fully digest what is going on in my life anymore. That’s where writing in a diary comes in handy. I can sit down and just let words flow through my hand. The speed at which they come is increasingly fast and in no time I have a record of what is going on in my head. I seriously recommend to all exchangers to write in a journal often during your year abroad.

Journal keeping can sort of be related to cleaning a teenage bedroom. Clothing strewn all over the floor, bed, and desk. Homework papers covering all the remaining counter space. There is no time to go in a pick up the mess, so instead it just gets worse and worse, until you just can’t take it anymore. The decision is finally made to crack down and clean up. It takes a few attempts to find enough discipline to get started, but after awhile a routine starts to form. Before you know it, the room is clean and you feel so much better about yourself. The same goes for keeping a journal. Your mind is the room and your thoughts are the sock on the chair and the stack of papers by the door. As the words flow from the pen they organize themselves to form a nice and tidy mind. Anyway, I’m getting off topic here. I guess the point I’m trying to make is that the more often you write the less often you have to clean it up. I’ve been slacking on my writing duties so its about time I clean out the old attic.

To start with, I moved to a new host family. These people are amazing. I feel so at home and comfortable here. I have two host siblings, Mette and Søren, two host parents, Jens and Vibeke, and a dog named Malou. Mette is fourteen years old and the perfect shopping partner. She has become a close friend and is one of the easiest people to talk to. Søren is eighteen and has a great sense of humor. Though I don’t see him very often, since he lives at an English speaking school in another city during the weekdays, we have had enough time to get to learn quite a bit about each other. Vibeke and Jens welcomed me with open arms and attentive ears. Within the first week that I was here I felt “a part of the family” and the awkwardness that normally lingers at first, melted away at a shockingly surprising speed.

I have been developing lots of bonds lately with those around me. Obviously with my host family, but also with my friends. We’ve had a lot more time to hang out and acquaintances have become close friends and close friends have become best friends. Bonds have formed and I wish to keep them intact for as long as possible. I’m starting to get mixed feelings about returning to Florida. It will be a true test on these new strings that bind us together. Hopefully I will be able to braid those strings into strong ropes within the next two and a half months.

Mid-February saw a trip to Paris with my host family. We had an awesome time there and I have to say that Paris is the most beautiful city I have ever visited… despite the horrible weather we had. We managed to fit all the most important tourist sites into just one week jam packed with days that required good quality walking shoes and a relaxing bath that night. I was amazed at how much French I actually understood and how easy the Metro is to follow. The art in the Museé D’Orsay was stunning. I saw Degas pastels and Van Gogh’s portraits, along with many more artists that I have studied and favored.

The architecture of the Sacré Coeur is impressive and we were actually able to go inside and watch a real Sunday service. Everyone that steps foot in that building respects the holiness of the place and even though there were hundreds of people inside, only the sole voice of the priest resounded in the room. The Notre Dame is a contrast in so many ways to the Sacré Coeur, but it was beautiful in its own right. We went to so many places and ate out at so many restaurants. We had a great time.

After Paris, we spent the rest of the Winter Break at my host family’s summer house. And in a few days we will be returning to said summer house for påske ferien (Easter break). It is a peaceful and sweet house in a small town on the North-Western coast. It is very common for people in Denmark to own both a normal house and a summer house. The summer house is a perfect place to go and get away from it all. A great concept.

Then on February 24th I had my birthday! It was so perfect. I woke up early for a traditional birthday breakfast. Mette had spelled my name out in gummi-bears and all my presents were sitting out next to mini Danish flags. I got to open my presents and every present was perfect. My host family had gotten me awesome gifts, my previous host family sent some and had just received a package from Florida. It was absolutely perfect. My mom called later in the day while I was drinking the Barnie’s coffee she had sent me and my grandparents called later in the day. That night we ate a special dinner and we had a traditional layer cake and I blew out the candles. The whole day had this really nice and very special feeling to it… one of the best birthdays I have ever had.

Most of March consisted of stressful homework and getting sick again, but soon I was off to Berlin. We did so much; tourist sites, school assignments, partying, and just hanging out. I learned a lot about my friends and a lot more about how they interact with each other when living together. There has been a sudden burst of improvement in my language skills and that is all due to the help of my friends. The simple act of correcting my grammar when I speak and write is a welcome way of learning. We talked about all sorts of topics, from what our favorite foods are to the casualness of sex in Danish teenage life. We had a blast. There is so much that we did that (knowing me) writing it all down would take pages and pages. I won’t bore you with all the details and instead I will leave you with one sentence. This trip has been just one of the many experiences that have made this year one to remember and cherish.

Sort knus,

Sharon

May 28 Journal

My life has taken a very surreal turn lately. You see, I realized that I only have 5 days left before I hop on the plane back to Florida. It doesn’t seem real. I feel like I suddenly jumped off the carousel and now I’m looking for something to grab so I can jump back on. Only, the carousel is moving too fast and it is impossible to continue life as it was. I have to step back and move on and find a different ride at the fair. It’s a strange feeling, but it is something I am ready to do. I’m going to see my family again. I am going to see my old friends. I’m going to re-visit my old life. I’m going to stop living this “dream” and wake up to reality.

But my reality is not the same reality as the other exchange students. As I mentioned in previous journals, my family has moved around a bit since I have been on exchange. They moved to England and then back. They are currently (and now permanently) living in Tampa, Florida. They moved into their new house a few days ago. So I won’t be returning to “the way things used to be.” I will have a new city, new house, new school, new friends, new job… the list could go on and on. I won’t have to worry about people expecting me to be the same way I was before I left, because I will be starting fresh once again. I sort of feel exactly like I did before I left to come to Denmark, I am on the verge of a new adventure.

As for a recap on what I have been doing since March… well, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I celebrated my first Easter. It was lots of fun. My host siblings and I received a big cardboard egg filled with millions of chocolate, licorice, and marzipan mini-eggs. Easter was also my host grandpa’s 80th birthday. So we had a huge party with all of my extended host family attending.

I also have continued with my new fascination with mother nature. Here is an except from my diary in April:

søndag, 10. April 2005 I went out to go on a walk with the dog today and it truly felt like spring. The birds were all singing different songs, and the sun was warm on your skin despite the cool breeze. The trees are budding with spurts of leaves and baby pinecones. All the dogs were running around chasing and sniffing each other. People were having picnics and riding bikes. Truly and completely SPRING. I’ve never actually seen spring at its fullest before. In Florida they say that the seasons are described as; almost summer, summer, still summer, and Christmas. We never really feel the change from one season to the next. And that change is actually very deep. Everyone’s face now bears a smile. People’s moods are lifted and the overall happiness seems to be contagious. I didn’t even realize that winter was making me slightly depressed until I saw how spring did the opposite. I think I sort of had the opposite of cabin fever. I always wanted to stay inside and sleep instead of the other way around. I had wanted to stay in the so called cabin and not leave but now it’s different. It’s a time of change.

I’ve been doing some traveling around Denmark as well. I visited Copenhagen, not too long ago, with my host sister. We had a blast. We went to all the tourist sites and did a whole bunch of shopping. Then I went to Ebeltoft with my host mom one weekend. There was a new Hans Christian Anderson exhibit at the glass museum and we were curious and interested. That was also lots of fun.

Oh yeah, on Thursday I gave my Rotary speech. I spent 40 minutes standing in front of my club talking about what I did this year in choppy, nervous Danish. They all seemed really impressed with it afterwards, but while I was talking I kept on looking into their really bored faces and thinking, “should I be making more jokes?” But it is done and over with now. They told me that all their previous exchange students only talked for five minutes and in English, so I went far beyond their expectations.

When I got home from the Rotary meeting I proceeded to bake 9 dozen cookies. I have become famous here for my “American Cookies” (you have to love the recipe on the back of the Tollhouse Chocolate Chips bag). I mentioned to my friend that I was making the cookies for my going away party and they all literally jumped for joy. It made me smile.

Then the next day was the going away party. I had a bunch of friends over. Eleven friends actually. We had a blast. We made dinner (with lots of potatoes) and drank wine while talking our mouths off. They got me this beautiful necklace with matching earrings as a goodbye present. I’m going to miss them so much. Really.

Then today all of my host families are coming over for a farewell lunch/dinner. I think there will be around 15 people here for that. I cant help but think that that will be a little weird. When I think of my life in Denmark I sort of think of 3 different mini-lives, and now they will all be in the same room at the same time. I hope it wont be too strange.

But then again, as I said before, strange and surreal have become flashing billboards in my life right now.

Besides that I have just been living regular old normal life. Gossiping with the girls about which guy we think is cute, stressing over school grades, making plans for Friday night. You know… normal life. It’s funny that when life becomes completely normal, I have to leave.

So this is my last journal. I want to thank everyone that read it. To all of you that are thinking about becoming exchange students in the future, go for it! To all the outboards that are succeeding us, good luck! And to all the exchangers that are finishing up our exchange year, congratulations, we made it!

Thank you Rotary. You changed my life.

Knus og kys,

Sharon

September 30 Journal

Well, I’ve been in Slovakia for a month now. Quite possibly the most difficult, and certainly the most confusing month of my young life. The plane ride on the way to Slovakia sucked, I felt absolutely crappy. I don’t know why, but I always seem to forget that I have motion sickness, and every time I get on a plane it all comes back and slaps me in the face (or the stomach for that matter). My family is great and I’m living in a very nice house instead of an apartment. I think that the only real issues that I’m having with Slovakia is that they don’t use shower curtains and they always have those shower heads that you have to hold. I guess I’m just lazy.

The first day of school was a bit of a shock for me, but in a good way. It started at 9:00 and ended at 11:30 in the morning. They basically just gave my class our schedule and we waited for the day to be over. I remember asking the girl next to me, “We’re done?” And of course they all thought that it was funny when I kept on asking in disbelief, “Is school over?” I probably looked like such a dork. Oh well. The second day of school I agreed to go on a bike ride with some of my classmates, little did I know that it was a 17km (10 mi) trip and that we would be going up a small mountain. I eventually made it up the mountain, but I had to walk my bike up a good deal of the way, it was like a 35 degree incline. Then a week later I went on another bike ride with my parents to visit the site of a ski resort. This one was the same distance but about half of it was uphill. But all in all, I’ve gotta tell you that all that work was definitely worth the rush of the downhill.

It’s so weird, everyone keeps talking to me in broken English that I’m beginning to think in it. But once I got to language camp I was so excited to be with other exchange students who speak my language. I was talking so fast, and with a bit of a southern accent (?), that no one could really understand me. While at camp, Ivan Lamos (Slovakia’s Al) thought it would be a great idea for us to go hiking through the mountains to go visit a really old castle. I’ve never had so much constant exercise in my life. In Martin, my city, if you ever need to go anywhere the best ways to do it is either walk, bike, or take the bus (which only costs 5 crowns! or 15 cents). Everything’s so cheap, I love it!!

After the language course was over we all hopped on a bus, grabbed our passports, and headed for Kromeriz in the Czech Republic for a district orientation. While there, with all the other Czech and Slovak inbounds, I took a dance class that taught some traditional and some non-traditional Czechoslovak dances. My two favorites were the Cha-Cha and the Polka. Yes, I know how to Polka. Now all of you out there that actually know me might be a little shocked that I now know how to Polka, but its really quite fun and can be very useful for things like balls and stuff.

Octoberfest is coming up in Kosice and a lot of the exchange students are planning on going there and stay in a hostel. We’re calling it an officially unofficial meeting; we’ll probably stay there for a few days. We’ve all decided that it’s time that we speak Slovak to each other even though it would just be easier to speak English. I sometimes have to speak Slovish (half Slovak, half English) just to get my point across though. You wouldn’t believe how long it’s taken me to write this much. A lot of the letters and functions on these keyboards are switched around, and I’m basically typing very slowly and with one finger at a time. I can’t decide whether it’s funny or annoying, but a bunch of the billboards here are in Slovish. The most common English words are REAL, EASY, FREE, and NONSTOP.

Well this is all I have to say for now about my exchange so far, but I would like to make a holler out to all my pals in Jacksonville; I miss DA so much and all you technicians out there, Todd I loved your cd (especially the Hokey-Pokey). I love you guys and will be thinking about yáll a lot.

Dovidenia (good-bye)

Anna

October 7 Journal

Okay, I know it’s only been a few days since my first journal but I just had to tell you what happened to me at school. So me and another exchange student from Chicago both go use the computer during the hour of our class’s second foreign language (the first is English), and as we were sitting outside the room waiting for the teacher to come we just happened to start up a conversation in English. Then we both noticed this group of ten year olds standing by the staircase smiling and staring at us (there were about 15 of them). Well then they started talking amongst themselves and occasionally pointing at us. I guess I figured they were going to make first contact. Then the entire mob swarmed around the bench where we were sitting and this one brave little boy stepped forward and said to my friend Monica, “How are you?” “I’m fine, how are you?”. Once she said that they all ran back laughing to where they had been standing, I think I saw one kid fall over with laughter. We were both smiling and all I could think was, ‘what was that?’

Well after they collected themselves, they shot a series of questions at us in Slovak (luckily I understood them enough to answer back without using that very confused look that I have recently mastered). They seemed to get a kick out of it when we told them where we were from. They got all excited when I said Florida and they were definitely in awe when Monica said Chicago. Then they went on to ask us how old we were, whether we had pets in America, if we like Slovakia, whether or not Monica and I were sisters. I guess we could be mistaken for sisters seeing as how we are practically the only slightly overweight people in the entire city who wear baggy clothes. They hadn’t quite finished their interview when one of the professors noticed the predicament that we were in, and shooed the crowd away. As they left they were smiling, laughing, waving, and saying ‘Bye’ to us. We officially felt like we were on display. I’ve never even seen these kids or really most of the people in my school or my town, but everyone seems to know who we were, or weren’t.

Except for this one lady on the bus this morning on the way to school. It was fairly packed, she was sitting, I was standing and holding on this pole so that I didn’t fall over. Well I think I might have been hitting her in the head with my backpack, when she turned to me and said about a paragraph in Slovak. All I caught was taška, bag, so I got the message, sort of muttered okay under my breath. I was about to go into this whole speech about how I’m sorry, but I only speak a little Slovak (Prepačte, hovorím len trocha Slovenský), when she smiled and turned back to her original position. Conversation closed I figured and squeezed my way to the back of the bus. I probably should have tried to continue the conversation, but it was too early in the morning for me to concentrate and didn’t feel like having this new batch of bus people know that I was a foreigner. It’s been one of my goals to just blend in, but I’m not quite there yet. Today was one of my days of weird experiences.

I joined the basketball team at my school and am once again surrounded by people younger than me. And once again I reminded myself that I stink when I tripped over my shoe and gave my knee one of those gym floor burns during a drill that I had never done before. But it was fun.

I’m sure that none of these stories sounded very interesting, but I guess you just had to be there.

Ahojte.

Anna

October 29 Journal

Ahojte,

Hurray!! I got my visa yesterday! Now they can’t deport me! For not having my visa that is. Hehe!

J

Ahojte

Anna

P. S. Yes, I realize that this was an exceptionally short journal.

November 20 Journal

Wow, I really can’t believe that it’s almost been three months since I first stepped off that plane, actually I sort of tripped off. It really feels so much like home here, I think I’m starting to fit in quite nicely. My language skills are coming along, slowly unfortunately but not for my lack of trying, it’s just a lot more difficult than I anticipated. But on the bright side, I’m always getting complimented on my pronunciation and progress by the dudes at school. I just hope all that stuff doesn’t blow up my head to the size of a watermelon. Ok so this journal is gonna be in a bit of an outline format, just so I a) don’t forget anything and b) don’t end up in endless rambling.

Weather. Let’s talk about the weather first, why not it’s always a good conversation starter, in any language. It started snowing yesterday, so needless to say, it’s rather cold. I’m just glad that my bed is conveniently situated next to a radiator. And it was either yesterday or the day before when the weather people predicted a strong wind to come, so when I got to school everyone was talking about the hurricane that’s coming. A hurricane? That’s like geographically nearly impossible for Slovakia. So I started to go about explaining what a real hurricane was like, and one of my best friends Soňa decided that she didn’t want to move to Florida. It actually turned out that this ‘hurricane’ was a wind of about 20 miles an hour. Not a hurricane.

Sports. So yeah, I’m officially a hockey fan now. I love going to hockey games, and not just to watch the match, for the atmosphere too. These are the things needed to make a good game: Two teams of equally aggressive players to batter each other in the attempt to hit a little black rubber cylinder into a partially blocked goal, enthusiastic half drunken fans to cheer on the home team and angrily whistle at the guests, and three referees who always seem to make really bad calls. Put those three things together and you’ve got yourself a very exciting next two hours. So I enjoy watching hockey, and I enjoy playing basketball just as much. All my teammates are really cool, and even though they’re all younger than me we always have a good time together, for the love of the game I guess.

School. School is an adventure and a half, I’m so glad that a understand a lot more that’s going on. But sometimes, when I’m attempting to keep up with a conversation, the teacher all of a sudden asks me what I think of what they were just talking about. Sometimes I don’t have too much of a problem answering their questions, but sometimes I have to give them that ‘what were you talking about?’ look. Then they just go back and explain it in simpler words and everything is okay. All my classmates are great, they’re always willing to give me any kind of help that I need, from shopping for school supplies to correcting my grammar. I’m really thankful that I have these people as my resources. As far as my participation in class goes, it’s obliviously not as good as it would be if I were speaking better Slovak, but its fair. I’m getting used to being put on the spot like that and I sort of appreciate it because it forces me to use my vocabulary off the top of my head. The other week my chemistry teacher gave me an assignment to study in my book about nuclear energy and then present what I learned to the class. Little did I know that what was going to be about a seven-minute lecture actually turned up as a lesson for the whole class period. The teacher would stop me periodically and elaborate on points that I guess she thought were important. But there was this one word that was necessary to use but I just couldn’t pronounce it for some reason. I got some polite chuckles at my performance by my classmates. P. E. class is always fun. It starts off with everyone lined up in military fashion while the coach gives us the scoop on what’s going to happen. Then a couple of laps around the gym, then the coach attempts to teach us clearly incompetent kids how to play volleyball. It’s chaos, balls are flying everywhere, people are hitting balls backwards that were supposed to go forwards, some are making desperate dives to save the ball from hitting the ground, and sometimes if they can’t reach the ball in time they resort to soccer techniques. There’s never a boring day in gym class.

Family. Needless to say, my family here is great. I really feel at home here. I never in my entire life thought that I would actually enjoy doing chores around the house, but it makes me feel like a true member of the family. My host grandparents who live on the floor below us always make me feel welcome. And they’re always feeding me, I was hoping to lose some weight, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. They take me to church on Sundays, which is way different from the church I grew up with, but that’s mostly because it’s Evangelic and I’m Baptist. It basically consists of a lot of sitting and standing and singing hymns and reciting prayers (I’m still not sure if they are prayers or not). And then the pastor or whatever you would call her in English steps up to the pulpit and begins the lesson, and every time about ten minutes into her speech she sounds like she’s holding back tears. I guess it’s all just super emotional for her. Anyways last Sunday she gave me a Bible as a gift that I had originally intended on buying, so I was thrilled about that. My host mom makes great food, in fact all the food that I’ve had so far is really good, I feel those ten pounds coming on, = P. My host father is great, and my sister Lucka is in her own way sort of hilarious. I particularly find it funny when she gets mad at the computer and proceeds to curse it.

All in all, I’m having a great time here in my new home and am eager to see what else this year has in store for me.

Shouts to my family in the States. Matthew, I really miss arguing with you over insanely pointless things. Timothy, I really miss laughing with you over insanely pointless things (Mario Twins) = P. And Mom I really miss you just for you and I’m so happy that you were always there to put up with all the antics that we three brats always got into. Thanks so much for always sticking by me through all of my crazy adventures and desires. I love all you guys, and I’ll see y’all in about seven months, for some earlier.

Ahojte

Anna

December 29 Journal

Ahojte všetci.

Okay, so I really don’t know where the best place to start in my order of events and I don’t remember everything chronologically, so it looks like outline format for me again.

School: So I’m reading this book for my Slovak Literature class called Mamka Pôstková. And just to my luck it’s in an older version of the language. So I go around class from one student to another asking what all these words mean, and they sure didn’t know. Then my friend who was sitting next to me said, “I don’t see why you have to read this if most of us don’t even understand it.” “Me neither”. So I just sort of sat back in my chair and thought ‘Thanks’. I’m not sure who it was directed to, but made me feel better in my moment of annoyance at this text. So I just kept on reading, and it didn’t turn out that bad, but it was pretty boring. I still don’t do anything in my math class, which is a little annoying because I went out and bought all these supplies and have still yet to use them. All my other classes I usually take notes like everyone else, unless the teacher has some special assignment for me.

But gym class has definitely changed from fun to fun, but slightly embarrassing. We started gymnastics the other day. I have to admit I felt a little apprehensive when I saw these other girls nearly perfectly executing twists and tumbles. But I gave it my best shot and didn’t do so bad, but my neck definitely hurt afterwards.

Snowboarding: So yeah, I went snowboarding a while back, definitely harder than it looks. And more painful. It all started with a polite invitation by my friends to go snowboarding for the day. I eagerly accepted. So I rented a board and some boots for 220 crowns, and a pass for 50, and confidently marched my way up the kiddy hill. My first two runs weren’t that bad, I didn’t fall, but this was all because it was early in the morning, we were the only people there and it really wasn’t necessary for me to steer. But then the kids came, about fifteen years and under and perfect skiers. I immediately found that it was necessary to dodge them in order not to crash into them. And in doing so I made some pretty gruesome crashes. I did a double summersault 900 degree fall. Which actually would have looked really good on TV if I’d have landed it right, but I didn’t, and it hurt. My next adventure came with the challenge of the vlek. I’m not sure what it’s called in English, but it’s basically a stick attached to a cable that you’re supposed to hold onto to pull you up the hill. It became immediately that I wasn’t from around there after my fifth failure on the vlek. Even after the vlekar’s (middle-aged, grim-faced dude who works at the vlek) guidance, I still brutally failed. After about my tenth attempt the vlekar asked me, “Why can’t you ride this thing like every other person?” So I gave him a rotary smile, shrugged and said, “I don’t know”. I made about thirty-five more attempts, and every time around after I had fallen and made my way back to the starting point, I was greeted with a very intimidating ‘go back to your country’ look by the vlekar. Finally I made it up to the top without falling, a personal accomplishment for me. It ended up that I had spent most of my time on the vlek and not the hill, but all in all it was a great day. I think I’ll try skiing next time, they say it’s harder than snowboarding. It should be fun. J J

Christmas: It all started with everyone dressed up nice and sitting around a table which was the beginnings of our večierok (Christmas dinner). But first my grandfather went through some Christmas speech, which to be honest with you I didn’t catch everything he said because I was partially eyeballing the labels of all the different drinks that were on the table. I was a little thirsty. After that speech, grandfather individually poured out little shot-sized glasses of sausage juice to everyone, which really wouldn’t have been that bad if there wasn’t so much alcohol in it. Luckily for me I didn’t have to drink it all. After that we had Lokša, Kapusnica, Kapor and Zemiakový šalat. After we were all officially full from eating, we sang a few carols. We being me and my two grandparents, and of course I was sight reading everything, so I either didn’t pronounce something right, or missed a few notes. Then after that we all got to open our presents. I got a pair of pajamas, with a fitting cow design, a really big book about Slovakia, and two little figures made out of corn husk. Pretty cool stuff. Then we stayed up talking till about 2:30 in the morning. Afterwards for the next to days we didn’t do anything but watch fairy tales and whatever movies that were on TV. Christmas is three days long in Slovakia J !! I’m still on holiday, so I’ve basically been sitting on the coach and watching TV all day.

Baking: I’m not going to say much, because I’m getting tired of writing, but I officially learned how to bake cookies for Christmas. At one point, me and my host mom were talking so much that we ended up burning a batch. We made a lot, hundreds and all different kinds. I’m still pleasantly living off of them.

Well that’s really all I have to say for now. I’ll be moving to my next host family on the 6th of January, so I’ll let y’all know how that all turns out. Majte sa!!

Ahojte

P. S. Happy Holidays!!

January 19 Journal

Okay, so starting from the beginning. It was about five minutes before the start of gym class, and we were going to keep working with our gymnastics. I knew from the start that gymnastics was going to be a problem for me. Not only is it difficult, but it’s just down-right dangerous. So in the gymnasium was set up this thing called the koza (with literally means goat in English, but I don’t think that’s really what it’s called in English) which was basically a four foot high, uhh, something, that has a spring board in front of it that you’re supposed to jump over. So some of the girls in my class were going to have a go at it before class started. And I had already tried it before, so I wasn’t afraid of it. So I step back a bit to get a good running start, but I think what my problem was that I accidentally jumped with one foot instead of both. So I trip over the top of the koza and make a devastating landing right on my left elbow, fracturing my arm into two pieces.

At first I didn’t know it was broken until my friends came running up to me yelling don’t move, it’s broken. And of course even then I didn’t quite know how bad it was until I saw my friend pick up my upper arm, and then all I could think was, ‘why do I still feel my hand on the floor if my arm’s way up there?’ And then the pain came. Then an ambulance came within about three minutes. My arm was crudely braced to my body and I was taken to the hospital. I got placed in a wheel chair, when the doctor saw my face go from ghost-white to a slightly healthier hospital-sheet-white. Then I was wheeled off to get an X-Ray. A very painful experience. I saw the X-Rays and immediately knew that I was going to have to have surgery. Which of course was a fear of mine, not only because of the cost, but also if anything went wrong, the last thing I needed was an international malpractice lawsuit on my hands.

So I had surgery on the next day, Thursday. Which I assume went fine, because I was still alive when I woke up, and they didn’t say that anything went wrong. Actually, the doctors never gave me any information face to face, I had to listen to what the nurses and other people were saying. And then I was glad that I had paid enough attention in biology class to actually understand what they were saying. I ended up getting an iron rod through my humerus up from the elbow. And even through all the painful nights, really boring days and cold meals that I was served, one of my secret dreams has just come true. I can actually set off a metal detector now! That’s so cool! And I thought that I was going to get my chance when they said that I would have to keep the rods in for a year, but now they’re saying four months. I can only hope that we’ll pass through security when we go on our Euro tour in April.

So yeah, keeping high hopes as always. But unfortunately, I don’t get a cast, I have to wear this freaky strap thing, that’s really uncomfortable. This isn’t the whole story of my incident, but it’s basically the gist.

Oh and a week before I was supposed to go to a Rotary meeting in another city called Žilina, because there was a guy who just came back from the Himalayas and apparently he had a pretty interesting slide show. So I thought, cool, I go, I’m not doing anything else on Monday. So I take the train form Sucany to Zilina, but for some unknown reason, I got off at the wrong stop in a small town called Strecno. So I make my way to the nearest bar to use a phone and call my counselor. He said that I was just going to have to wait there until the next train back to Sucany arrived. So I waited in the bar for about an hour and fifteen minutes, with only the company of completely happy drunken Slovaks, who were so drunk by this time that I couldn’t make out what most of them were saying. I had to get a slightly less drunken man to tell me what they were saying. Then I was finally on a train back to Sucany and everything was fine.

I know when they were talking about comfort zones at the orientation meetings, that this was probably not what they meant. But at least I can’t say that they didn’t warn me.

March 11 Journal

I just came back from a weekend in Prague that all started with a road trip on the bus down to Bratislava to pick up the new Australians who got here in January. Australian accents are so cool, but I have to admit that there were quite a few times in our conversations that I had absolutely no clue what these kids were saying. It was so weird, it was like we were all speaking Englakish, because we couldn’t remember how to call something in English, so we just said it in Slovak and everyone understood. Except for the Australians, they’re still in that clueless stage. So anyhow, we finally got to Prague after an insanely long and uncomfortable bus ride, and I found that it’s actually warmer there than in Martin, only 10 degrees below. So needless to say, I was happy to get a little relief from the cold. And what made me even more happy was when I discovered that most of the sidewalks weren’t coated with ice. I don’t understand, these people are running and dancing in the streets (not literally), and I’m walking as slowly as possible, and it’s like a winter slip-and-slide for me, except I’m not enjoying myself when I fall. I think these people have some sort of nerve in their brains sending them subliminal messages saying ‘You can walk on ice!’, and I just don’t get that. So yeah, the tour around the city was pretty cool. And then we met up against the palace guards who just stood there and you could do just about whatever you wanted to get them to move. I didn’t really do anything that great, I just stood there and started talking to him, and he just stood there. Then my friend went up and kissed him, and he just stood there. We all tried to do something to make him move, but he just stood there. I sort of admire him for putting up with all that junk.

They’ve got awesome buildings from just about every art period. And when we finally had the chance to do some private shopping, I found this great store with a lot of cool stuff in it and I bought some chopsticks, because they were cool and cheap. Everything is cheap!!! Hurray! To the point, Prague is super awesome and I can’t wait to go back.

The day after we all got back from our tour in Prague, I got invited to a Rotary sponsored bowling. Boy is that interesting! The first astonishment was that all the pins are attached to strings. So when you knock them down they’re not just swept away as a new set comes in, they rise up, straighten out, and are ready for the next play. But that’s not the only cool thing, because they’re all attached to strings, if you hit a pin correctly it will swing around and knock the rest of them down giving you a strike. And then after about four and a half hours of playing I went up against my bud, Pablo from Brazil. Needless to say, I was brutally defeated, and shamed off the lanes. Just kidding, what was really shameful was the way some of the Rotarians were yelling at the pins when they didn’t go down. So anyhow, five hours of bowling and I woke up the next day with a really sore arm.

And then back at school I had to make a presentation about social groups, but I got a little nervous so I started talking really fast and no one understood me so I had to slow down and repeat myself. And conveniently my topic was on the social groups of my class back in the states. So I happened to mention that I used to sing. Then everyone started asking me to sing, I really didn’t want to, but my teacher asked me, so I agreed. And I sang the first song that came to my head, American Pie. The Madonna version that is. And when I finished, everyone was convinced that I could win SuperStar, which is Slovakia’s version of American Idol. So that was exciting! And then I had to take a test in chemistry on organic chemistry. Which was basically naming different equations using numbers and crazy Latin terms that don’t make any sense. But I think I did okay, because when my teacher took it up and looked at it, she just nodded and said okay. And then I have to make another presentation in biology, so I’m currently working on that. It consists of a lot of memorizing and a lot of painting.

I’m going this weekend to a village called Liptovsky Osada with my host family to go look at differently sculptured snowmen.

So this is all basically the gist of what I’ve been doing, nothing too exciting, just normal life. Sorry I still don’t have any pictures, they’ll come soon.

Zatiaľ ahojte, a majte sa krásne. Všetci ktorý sú na exchange, prajem Vám úžasny pobyt vo svojej krajiny.

May 29 Journal

Right now I’m really annoyed that I have to write this little report all over again, because the computer lab teacher at my school deleted my first draft.

First of all, I’d just like to start off with the fact that I won third place at our school singing competition on 21 of April. I probably might have gotten more votes from the student body if I had been more of a ‘crowd-pleaser’, but I wasn’t. On the bright side I was awarded with a T-shirt, a recorder, and, of all things, an English Language workbook. I even got interviewed on TV afterwards.

Two days later my mom and aunt came to visit. And of course, they arrive with no luggage. All that came about three days later. It was fun, but very tiring for me to show them around and translate stuff for them. I now have a new appreciation for interpreters. They were here for a week, and we went and checked out the museum, some schools, we saw a few castles, most from the distant view of a train or car, and we visited host families. I’m just glad I didn’t have to go to school that week.

On the very day that mom and them had to go home, I had to start my EuroTour. Conveniently we all had to be in Bratislava at the time so it all worked out. At about seven thirty on the 30th a taxi dropped me off at the main bus/train station in Bratislava, that taxi then taking mom and aunt to the airport so they could await their flight. So we wait at the station until all the other Slovak students arrive, then we all pilled onto a bus and make our way to the Czech Republic, where we stopped in Brno to pick up some of the Czech kids, then we made our way to the eastern part of Czech to pick up even more Czech kids. In all we had 42 students and three adults, not including the bus-driver, I’ll get to him. So we’re all on the bus heading for Austria, when the tour guide lady starts talking in English. All I could think is, What is this? Everyone of us understands Slovak or Czech (except for that Hungarian kid who came along), and they’re practically the same language, there’s not that big of a difference, why aren’t we listening to that? I just didn’t understand, we’re supposed to be learning a language here, I would have much rather listened to Czech (because there was only one Slovak lady, and she didn’t talk at all) than English. But then I realized, those Czech students don’t understand Slovak. I understand them, but they haven’t got a clue what I’m talking about, so I started using Czech a bit too. I think the reason for all this is that in Slovakia we get a lot of programs in Slovak and Czech, but they only have Czech. Anyway, I sort of gave up on the whole Slovak thing, English was much faster, but I always spoken in Slovak to the Mexicans and Brazilians.

So anyways, we’re in Austria at a gas station for supper, and I was extremely surprised by the insane prices for food. Not only was it the Euro that frightened me, but the general cost of things. I immediately began silently cursing the Euro and all the trouble it has and will cost me. Evil! We made it to Salzburg that night and did some individual tours of the town for a few hours. I saw Mozart’s house, but was very disturbed when I found it was painted in a very unsettling throw-up yellow color. Then I went to check out some of the shops, but they were all closed, so I and my Australian friend went on back to the bus to await a very long and uncomfortable overnight bus ride to Italy.

Day 1 of Italy consisted of thirty minute walk to that really famous square in Venice, Piazza San Marco. And we basically stayed there for the morning just privately touring the area and the shops, I personally spent at least an hour feeding pigeons, that was real fun! I even got some of them to sit on my shoulder. Unforunately, I got really bad sun-burn that day, but it didn’t turn out that bad in the end. Then at around two in the afternoon, we all got on a taxi boat and headed for the bus. Afternoon and evening spent on bus toward Verona. We finally got to our hotel just outside of the city and had dinner. THE BEST LASAGNA EVER!!!! First night spent in hotel, bed good. Day 2 of Italy was a drive to the French border at Vertimiglia and then further to Monaco.

Monaco, small, but really rich. These people have got to be loaded, there is no other reason for their perfect buildings being as perfect as they are. Then as we started to walk through the city of Monte Carlo I stood with my mouth wide open in awe of their perfect cars, perfect yachts, perfect water, perfect houses, perfect grass, perfectly paved streets, and perfectly tanned inhabitants. And then I said to myself, “this is a perfect country, that consists of about two mile shore line (give or take), surrounded by a mountain range and the ocean, Why don’t we all live like this?” After my shock subsided, we went to the Ocean Aquarium Musée Océanographic, the Palace of the Prince to see the guards change, and then to the Casino, admittance 18 years or older. Darn! =P

From there we went to Eze in France to visit a perfume factory. Very cool, but very expensive, I bought some anyway. That afternoon we made it to Nice and got settled into our first of a long line of Premiere Classe hotels. Now, on the schedule it’s written that we would have ‘an evening visit of the city centre’. That actually means, ‘an evening of running around town at all hours of the night making complete fools out of ourselves and meeting back in the morning with just enough time to get back on the bus’. Some of us had the pleasure of walking across the acclaimed French Riviera, which was actually a beach of rocks. Now I’m not talking about little pieces of gravel, each rock was about the size of my fist which made walking barefoot or even in sandals a completely unpleasant experience. We all made it back alive in the morning, but some with really bad headaches.

Avignon was our next stop, where we spent most of the day touring the Pope’s Palace ‘Palais de Papes’, and the historical sites of the town. That was actually a highly informational, but so uneventful day. That is until we made it to Orange for our evening accommodation. Another Premiere Classe hotel, but this time with a pretty decent parking lot, which gave us all the opportunity to stand in a circle, throw at least six frisbees at each other and discuss the meaning of life as an exchange student.

The next day was spent in the bus through Lyon and Vierzon until we got to Blois (which is really hard to pronounce, by the way) to sleep in a, yes once again, Premiere Classe hotel. Now most of us this whole time are living off of bread and cheese, because it’s the cheapest food to find out there, so once we dropped our stuff off at the hotel, we all set off in search of the local grocery store. Well needless to say, of course I was with the group of kids who ended up doing a full circle until we found the right direction to the city’s center, but only to arrive fifteen minutes after the store had closed, but with the rest of our friends standing at the cash registers buying all their food and pointing and laughing at us outside. We, the needy and poor exchange students with only about five Euros each. We, the desperate children of the journey. We, the ones that found the McDonald’s across the street. Yes, our empty bellies were quickly filled with very pricey small servings of unhealthy French/American fast food. This was also my first experience with McDonalds outside of the US. Sure we have McDonalds in Slovakia too, but no one really eats at them. As we were walking back to our hotel, we found that the travel was really about five blocks away, and not that mile circle we did. Needless to say, we all felt like dummies.

Paris, the city of love. Really the city of a foul wind that only dropped the temperature from low to lower. It was about 30 degrees (Celsius) the day before in Nice, but here it was about 10 with an evil wind furiously blowing constantly in my general direction. And of course I caught a cold, a really bad cold that lasted the whole rest of the trip and the week after. So of course our first stop is the Eiffel Tower, which means about 600 or so steps. I only made it to the first floor, I settled with that because the second was another three hundred stairs and I already felt like I was going to collapse. So I spent my time taking pictures from the first floor and exploring the gift shops and little museum and the other things that there was to do at the meager first floor. Afterwards, we all sat out in the park below waiting for everyone to finally make their way down those insane stairs. Then we hopped on the bus and went to the Louvre. AWESOME!!! We were only allowed to stay for three hours, so I did a quick tour with my Australian mate Stef. We cruised through Egyptian antiquities, in about thirty minutes at a speedy pace. Then to Greek, Roman and Etruscan antiquities. We saw ‘Winged Victory’ and the ‘Mona Lisa’, which I thought was really small. Then we basically saw a lot of other paintings from well-known artists, and some really big rooms. Then we had free time which was spent, for me, shopping but not buying at some of the best clothing stores, and some really crazy gift shops. And we did all that until 9:00 p.m., then we took the bus outside of the city to our accommodation at, you guessed it, another Premiere Classe hotel. By this time every single one of us was fully aware of the contents and parking lot that surrounded Premiere Classe.

Wake up at six, breakfast at seven. By this time every one of us has started swiping the breakfast rolls and saving them for lunch, because we’re all running out of money, that desperately needed money used on completely useless, but oh so unoriginal and cheap gifts to give to your loved ones with the assurance that they’ll be contented with the whole two dollars you spent on them. Yes, we were broke. That day transportation via subway got us to Notre Dame Cathedral. I was very disappointed when I saw how small it is. I just stared thinking ‘I thought it would be bigger’. But once I actually got inside I found just how huge it really was. I practically heard Quasimodo ringing the bells. I immediately had an uncontrollable desire to see the Hunchback of Notre Dame, but I left Disney behind in the US. Afterwards, when we were waiting for all the kids to gather back together, one of my friends exchanged in the Czech Republic took out this things called Devil sticks and started doing a street performance in front of Notre Dame. He got a pretty big crowd. A lot of tourists were taking pictures, probably because they thought that he was French, trying to present his art. He got those sticks juggling, doing turns and flips, and mid-air tricks and all that stuff. So we all started throwing coins in his hat that he had in front of him trying to coax the tourists into doing the same thing, but it didn’t work. So when he finished we all took our money back and said ‘sorry kid’. Then we saw Palais Justice, Quartier Latin, Saint Germain, Sorbonna, and Luxembourg Garden. From the garden we split up into small groups and did some more exploring/shopping. We were all supposed to meet back at Notre Dame at six to make the boat tour down the river Seina, and my group was lost. So we made it to this little square with a fountain in the middle and saw a group of teenage boys kicking a soccer ball around so we’re all like, ‘okay, we’ll just ask them. Maybe they’ll understand a little English’. So we walk up and ask if they know where Notre Dame is. It appeared that they didn’t understand English that well, so we started ‘Notre Dame. Where?’ and pointing in different directions trying to show that we’re lost. They started speaking in a language that clearly wasn’t French then one of the boys pulled a map out of his back pocket. This made everything clear that they definitely weren’t French, so they eventually showed us where we need to be going. And when we made it to Notre Dame with about five minutes to spare we set off down the river in search of a tour boat. When we found it we all pilled in, most of us going to the top deck to get the best view. The tour guide spoke in French and English, and it was pretty clear that she had done this tour at least five times already that day by the bored tone in her voice. Unfortunately for me her French accent was so strong, I only understood half of what she had said. But what really matters is that I saw what I thought she was talking about, and that I got some cool pictures. Then back to the hotel to sleep in a nice warm bed with a stomach full of bread, cheese and canned Mexican food. Yes, this was the life.

Next day with accommodations still in Paris, the bus took us to Versailles Castle and lush gardens. We ended up waiting about an hour to get into the castle to do the tour, and some people paid an insane about of money. Not me, I was lucky under 18 at the time. I wasn’t that impressed with the castle’s design seeing as how everything was in gold and they carpeted the walls. I’m sorry, but it seemed to me like every room in the castle was the same. Which went basically for the garden too, except that was a nice walk outside in the freezing cold. That place was huge. They even went as far as hiding random ice-cream shops behind the walls of grass. It was pretty nice, but I easily got lost. As we were making our way towards the buses, I couldn’t figure out which bus was ours, so I settled for looking for MulletMan (the bus-driver). Then this salesman practically jumped at me offering all these watches, key-chains, cigarette lighters, little models of the Eiffel Tower, and wouldn’t go away. So I did the dumb thing and played the ‘I don’t speak English’ trick. Don’t do that, it just makes thing worse. Then I was like, ‘No, I don’t want it. Go away!’ But he didn’t, so finally one of my friends pulled me away and onto the bus, which I had already passed but didn’t know it. Beware of the salesmen who hang around popular tourist sites, they’re like cockroaches! So that afternoon we went back to Paris and did some more unbothered shopping.

Morning departure from Paris to Normandy. But before all this happens, I get on the bus to get ready to leave and I expected to see the boots that I had been wearing for all the walking. I had left them on the bus and exchanged them for my flip-flops, because they were much more convenient for just walking to the hotel and back. I had done this every day before and expected to see my shoes under the seat in front of me like they always were, but this day was different. When I got to my seat and noticed that my shoes were missing, I asked the bus driver about them. He was waiting for that question, you could tell. So he leads me to another row of seats and points to an assorted collection of shoes and asks, ‘Are those your boots?’ I sort of just stared in shock of the pile of shoes, then finally responded with a quiet ‘yes’. ‘I washed them for you.’ He washed my shoes?! ‘You washed my shoes?!’ Now if this were any other person, I would have said thank you or something, but coming from a man who had always reacted with anger to anything we did, for him to wash my shoes– I just found that really weird. None of the other kids could believe it when I told them he had washed my shoes, every reaction was ‘He washed your shoes?!’ That was a very strange moment in my life.

First stop, Mont Saint Michel. I really enjoyed this place and the monastery at the top, I just didn’t like getting to the top. Once more, way too many stairs to count. But the monastery was so quite and peaceful, I just wanted to stay there. That was a truly beautiful day. Then we got to Omaha Beach to see the docks and port, or what’s left of them. It was a great relief to finally to walk on a real beach, not the rocky beaches of Nice. Then we drove over to the local docking house and took an overnight ferry to Portsmouth, ENGLAND!

ENGLAND! ENGLISH! Weird English, but English all the same. Our first stop, not including customs, was a little grocery store to buy some necessary food products, such as salsa. So my bud from Ohio, who is convinced that I have a southern accent, asks me to go up to one of the workers in a suit and ask him, in my most southern accent, “Do you know where I can find some salsa?” He smiled warmly and led me in the direction of my most definitely needed spicy salsa. Then as I started to look around, I saw the unbelievable; Real Florida Orange Juice. That‘s what it said on the box, Real Florida Orange Juice, so I bought it. As I got on the bus and began to taste it, I found that it actually is Real Florida Orange Juice, and not the stuff I‘d been drinking for the last nine months. This was officially my favorite grocery store in all of England, I have no idea what its name is. I was in heaven, I finally got my spicy salsa and could down it with Real Florida Orange Juice. And then I got a stomach ache. Then we went to Chichester, Brighton, and Hastings for potty breaks. When we got to Greenwich, we went to see the Old Royal Observatory. It wasn’t all that interesting, I mean I’ve seen stars and stuff before. But afterwards we all went to the park that was next to the Observatory and played Red Rover. That game was brutal, people were bleeding, that was the most fun, vicious and probably the most embarrassing game of red rover ever. When we finally got to London, our first stop was at the London Wax Museum, where all the movie stars and TV personalities were recreated into life-size versions of their real selves. Then we drove over to see parliament, and then had free time to explore the city. London. Wow. So we all decided as a group that since we’re in a city that speaks English, that it is our duty to talk behind their backs in a foreign language, just for the heck of it. That was soooo cool. Do you know how great it is to be able to make fun of someone right in their face and they not have a clue what you’re talking about? Bohovske! Anyways we found it a lot harder to get lost in this city than all the others, mostly because we could read all the signs. And you guys wouldn’t believe this. As I was obnoxiously singing one of my favorite Slovak songs as we were walking down the sidewalk, two Slovaks stopped and asked us if we knew where Parliament is. Me and my friends were all really surprised to find other people speaking Slovak in London, so we decided it’s probably a good idea to watch what you’re saying, because there’s still a chance that someone can understand you. When we got to the hotel that night we weren’t at all surprised to see that it was yet another Premiere Classe hotel. Apparently, London is the main city of operation for this hotel chain. How convenient.

Day 11 of our adventure sent us to the Tower of London and the dudes that work there in their crazy looking outfits. That was a very interesting museum, because of all the historical artifacts it had there. Horse armor, stone carvings, period swords. Yes, all stuff I’ve seen before, but still very interesting. Then at one of the towers they showed this really old reenactment from a really old film about English princes who were supposedly murdered by their jealous uncle, but no one knows if he really did it or not. Then we got back on the bus and waited for a tour guide lady who was going to show us around. As it turns out, this lady spoke English, Czech, Slovak, and Chinese. Interesting combination. So we saw Leicester Square, Soho, Piccadilly Circus, the Queen, her palace and her jewels. And a few other famous buildings, whose names I have currently forgotten. Then at around four, they let us run around again until nine, then back to our Premiere Classe hotel.

The last day of London. On our schedule it’s written that we were supposed to go to Museum Madame Tussaud’s, British Museum, National Gallery, and free time, but all I remember was the free time. I have no remembrance of what happened the first half of that day. But I think that our free time was just spent going to the book store and watching friends buying random books just because they were in English. Maybe they were desperate. It was mostly the Czech kids who were going crazy over English books, but I think that might have been because they didn’t care that much for Czech. Who knows? For me anyways, that day was really just pleasant window shopping, which works for me. Again, at about nine we headed back to the hotel, lights out at ten. But no one really cared.

Okay, so technically this is the last day in London, because we were still accommodated by morning the next day, so sorry for the mistake. That morning we said good-bye to London and hello Dover and a boat departing for France. So when we get there, we have to go through customs, and they held us so long that we missed the boat we were supposed to take at ten thirty. So we waited till noon for the next one. I have never hated riding on boats as much as right now. My head was turning, my stomach was churning, and the worst part is that the doors were locked to the outside deck. There, at least would be fresh air and an ocean to barf into, but I was never given such the luxury of throwing up. No, that would have ended my suffering way too soon, I had to wait another hour and a half until we docked. This all quickly subsided when we hit dry land, and then came back when I decided that reading on the bus was okay. So enough of that. When we got to France, we quickly made our way through Belgium (consisting of only a gas station), and straight into the Netherlands. There we had a sightseeing stop at Antwerp’s city center, but I don’t recall any of that. I don’t think that actually happened. Oh, I remember why I don’t remember that. It’s because we had taken a late boat, we didn’t have time to stop. There. That has to be it. So that night we made it to Alkmaar where we ate at this hotel that only had two rooms. So the forty of us that couldn’t sleep at the hotel, had to go to someone else’s house for the night. Me and two other girls went to stay with this elderly couple, who were so sweet and in the morning they even gave us soft-boiled eggs with sweaters on them to keep them warm. But it was so cool. It was like the beginning of my exchange, I had no idea what they were talking about, but I’m almost sure that the Dutch word for shower starts with a D.

Next day we got to Zansche Schans to see a village museum where they had traditional windmills, cheese production and wooden shoes. I sat in a wooden shoe. I and about six other people all at the same time. It was just like one of those competitions where you try and see how many people you can fit into a Volkswagen beetle. Our seven won. Wooden shoes are so cool. When I saw this guy making them and wearing them, I just thought ‘Wow. This guy is wearing wooden shoes…. Wow.’ They even had a wooden shoes museum where they went so far as making wooden shoes for their horses. Then we went to Amsterdam where we went on a boat ride down some canals. After that we basically had free time until seven. So I decided the perfect place to visit would be the Vincent van Gogh Museum. That was amazing, but unfortunately we could only spend an hour there so that we could have time to do other things. From what I saw, it seemed to me that the whole of Amsterdam is nothing but a huge collection of tourist shops and restaurants. But that wasn’t a problem, I finally got some Chinese food. Cold Chinese food, but I didn’t care. The part that wasn’t tourist shops and restaurants was various drugs, wooden shoes and sex products. I tried to ignore, but other than that it wasn’t that bad. Except for when it turned out that it was already seven o’clock and me and my Mexican friend were on the opposite side of Amsterdam from where the bus was. We ran the distance in fifteen minutes, looking like complete idiots, and getting rightly told off by one of the adults who claimed he feared for us like we were his own children. Oh please!

From Amsterdam we took an overnight bus ride through Holland and Germany. Germany being a side of the road rest stop so we could use the restrooms, with a really annoying German man there, insisting that we wouldn’t go until we paid half a euro each. It was like that everywhere in Europe and it made me sick. Once while we were still in France I had to pay two euros. Do you know how much that is? That’s like four US dollars. That’s insane, that’s gross. Then when we got to the Czech Republic we dropped the Czech kids of in České Budějovice and went to Brno. Then took a train to Slovakia and finally home to Martin. So that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

September 9 Journal

Hola!

Jfklajfajhfnhjkasbfjkasbfjklabfjkabfjkabfjkafansjkfnajsfnjkafnjkawnfjawnfjkanfjksanfjksan- jfknsajkfnsajkfnajksfnjafnjksafnanfoiewfjañklmndsnafjnwafajfnsjkafnjkasfhniewfhwafjiew

That is about what it was like my first week here….Hola I could usually almost always pick up. However, as far as everything else was concerned I really didn’t understand much at all. My first three weeks pretty much were a mixture of emotions of all extremities. Extreme sadness when leaving Jacksonville, to extreme happiness now that I am beginning to fit in and assimilate to a new culture.

Argentina is amazing! It is gorgeous, the people are the nicest people I have ever meet in all my life. School is great. I go to a school where we have to wear uniforms, which are not too attractive but it’s all right. I finally know my way to and from school now. This week I was able to understand the majority of my classes and I actually took notes in history. The feeling when you begin to learn the language is by far the most exciting feeling I have ever experienced.

My family here is great. Mom, dad, older brother, cat. No dogs but I actually really enjoy the company of the cat, despite the fact that I am highly allergic. Soccer is really popular here which is really great, it’s always on TV and people are always playing it. And by people I mean boys, only boys. In school the boys and girls are separated for gym and the girls dance and play volleyball and the boys play rugby and soccer. After a lot of insisting and begging, in Spanish of course, I finally got the authorization to have gym class with the boys which is so cool because I will finally be able to play soccer! Next week I am starting guitar and tennis lessons and I am really excited.

When we talked about culture shock I really thought it wouldn’t apply to me. But I was wrong, it even effects you physically. I was the child that never ever slept, I really truly thought I had insomnia haha but now every day when I get home form school I sleep for 3 hours. It’s great – my brain is constantly working and trying to learn the language. I’ve already been to the mall twice, dancing, a rugby game, and many tea parties. The friends that I have made here so far I feel like I have known some of them for years, they are great. I really love it here! The best thing is, there are a lot of girls shorter than me in my class jaja, the people here are much shorter than in the USA!!

BESOS

October 15 Journal

Well it’s been exactly two months since I arrived in my new home, and I am definitely having the time of my life. But I am having the time of my life not because I have made new friends, and people find me special just for being American, or because here we go out until 7 in the morning, but because I have learned to enjoy myself in the hardest of situations. Things used to be fun for me only because they were easy, the harder things very few people like. This has been the hardest thing I have ever done but I am loving it so much.

This week I took my first two tests, and well…Yes well…My geography test went very well. I know I passed. But my “analsis calculas” kind of “worked me hard core”. I had never taken a test that I didn’t know anything about before, so that was a trip.

I am starting tennis lessons and horseback riding, so I am trying new things, and of course I play pickup soccer whenever possible. I also went to the center of Buenos Aires which was so amazing, I have never seen architecture like that before. I felt like I was in Europe, it was amazing, everything here is amazing!! And it’s spring!! And to make things even better I can basically understand everything and I can make myself understood. I am even telling jokes…well I think they are jokes ..no one ever laughs, but no one laughs at my English jokes either so I am not worried. Things are going great and keep getting better!

December 7 Journal

Yesterday I got home from a 20 day tour of the south of Argentina. We went to places such as Puerto Madryn, Bariloche, San Martin de los Andes, Calafate, and Ushaia which happens to be the southern most city in the entire world. I saw penguins, alpacas, whales, sheep, foxes, wild horses, everything. I saw mountains, snow, ice, everything. It was quite different from Florida actually. It was breathtaking.

On Thanksgiving day we were in a city called Calafate and we walked on a glacier. It was seriously so amazing. It was such an experience that it is truly hard to find words to describe the places. In the past I had always considered myself one who appreciates nature but I realized on this trip that really I had no idea. I began to notice how different the wind felt, how different the lights looked in each city, how different the air smelt and the people acted, it was truly incredible. I truly took advantage of every opportunity.

In Florida I have two dogs which I miss dearly and here I have a cat, so I am somewhat missing the affection of my pets back home. So when we were traveling I went to a pet store and asked if I could rent a bunny. The man sort of looked at me silly but smiled and said sure. I had to leave 5 pesos which is less than 3 dollars and then when I returned the rabbit he returned my money. The rabbit itself only cost 8 pesos. It was so much fun! Then the next day I rented the same one again but this time I didn’t have to leave any money because the man knew I was trust worthy. It was so funny he said he had never met anyone like me before, I don’t think many people rent rabbits.

It was truly an amazing trip and I met some kids from Austria and Hungary and different places, although most of them were from the United States. It was so refreshing to finally come home. It was nice. I realized after this trip that I truly have made Argentina my home, because when I got home the way I felt and the way my family felt made me realize how at home I am. I felt just like I do when I used to go on a trip and then come home to your mom’s food and your dad’s jokes and fighting with your brother over whose turn it is to wash the dishes and most importantly your bed. It was so nice. Now the vacation is truly over. Beginning the 17th of December I begin with my exams of the year. Which may not sound too difficult but you have to remember I arrived in late August, school began in March, and it’s in a foreign language. But I’m excited to do well and finish the year strong so I can begin studying for the SATs that I have to take here in January. Officially it is summer here, and tomorrow we are going to put up the Christmas tree. Happy Holidays everyone!!

January 22 Journal

Well for those of you who are doing your exchange in the northern hemisphere, and you Matt who’s in Siberia, I am sure envying you ironically enough. Right now I am on my summer vacations, and here it is very very hot. Especially since air conditioning is rarely used. It isn’t even that people don’t spend the money on it, it’s that other than in businesses no one sees it necessary or practical. I’m adjusting even though its in the 90’s every day.

I just got back from spending a little over 2 weeks in Pinamar. That is a beach which is about 4 hours from where I live and everyone goes there during the summer. It was so much fun because all your friends are there too, so it’s amazing. All the Argentine famous people go and spend the time there too. I met Carlos Tevez who played for Boca and now is playing for the Corinthians, a club in Brazil, and also the keeper of River Plate. Which is ironic because that is like meeting a Florida Gator and Seminole, quite the rivalry.

Now I’ve been back home for a good week, and of that good week, believe it or not, all of that time has been put into collegeboard.com, where I have practicing for the SAT which I took today. Let’s just say it’s obvious that I am talking better Spanish since I have apparently forgotten all English vocabulary. Now comes the fun part – studying for school exams that I have to take in a couple weeks to bring back credits. So my summer is packed with school, which I don’t too much mind. We are having a big super bowl party here so all my friends can watch my city on TV, too bad the only good team in the NFL didn’t make it (Indianapolis Colts, for those who aren’t familiar with the NFL).

Anyways I am having a wonderful time. It’s amazing – you would think that after 5 months and the fact that it’s no longer new, the fact that I have to study, the fact that I am not the special new girl, that it would lose a little of its appeal. But literally each day gets better and better. I feel like the time has passed so fast, too fast, but at the same time that I have been here my whole life, it’s oxymoronic actually.

Bueno me tengo que ir ya a estudiar así que te dejo con esa información y espero que te disfrutes.

Feliz Año Nueveo!

April 4 Journal

Well I have been very very busy lately. My summer came to an end almost a month ago. It was a wonderful summer! I was able to go to Pinamar, which is a beach in Argentina that almost everyone goes to during summer. It was beautiful and I went with my best friend and her family, which is practically my family. Don’t worry – even though they were not Rotary it was rotary approved 🙂 In Pinamar I ended up meeting the most famous soccer player, Carlos Tevez, that recently went to play in Brazil. I saw him out dancing and went and talked with him and his friends, it was amazing! I was looking for him all that day on the beach to play soccer and then that night when I wasn’t even expecting to see him I ended up meeting him. It was GREAT!!

Also my family was able to come down and visit me the last weeks in February, which was really amazing. It had been almost seven months since I had seen them and it was so nice to see them again. Not only my parents but my grandmother and brother as well were able to come. It was such a wonderful feeling to be able to show my family where I lived, my friends, my school, my new home. It was really incredible and I really enjoyed it. We also were able to travel a bit. And by a bit I mean literally from the very top of Argentina, Iguazu, Misiones, to the southernmost city in the world, Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego. Iguazu was beautiful. I think that most would agree that they are the most beautiful waterfalls in the world. Then I went to Calafate which has over 7 really large glaciers. It was great!

Then my family left and I began school. Which this year is much easier since I understand everything. But there are still some challenges. I am really enjoying it. On the school subject, I have been really busy studying for the ACT which I have to take this Saturday which hopefully I will do well on, if not I guess I’ll just have to stay here 🙂

Perhaps the most exciting day of my exchange occurred last Thursday, 31 of March. My mom decorated a restaurant for an exhibition because she is an architect and it was in a big exhibition. Anyways the exhibition was done by the magazine GENTE, which is like the American PEOPLE magazine. Anyways there is a program here on TV that I absolutely love!!! It really helped me to learn my Spanish, because it’s meant for younger children even though all my friends watch it. Anyways I am obsessed and it’s called Floricienta. It’s kind of roughly based on Cinderella. Anyways at this exhibition I saw a girl that acted in the program as the English tutor of the children in the show, and I went and talked to her. She was really nice and recently moved to Spain with her boyfriend so she doesn’t act anymore. Anyways she told me to follow her, she wanted to show me something … She took me to the Nokia section and there he was … The lead star of Floricienta ..THE PRINCE! We talked and he gave me his autograph and we even took a picture. He also invited me to the set on my birthday to watch the show. It was seriously my dream come true!! I also met a lot of other really famous TV stars, which are all really friendly! But he was the most famous and special to me of all of them. Anyways I will leave you all with this news. Even though I’m not sure it means as much to you all as it does to me 🙂 In final, I have so much luck in Argentina … I meet all the famous people!!!!!!! In America I don’t know anyone famous, well accept AL of course!!!!

Chau

June 7 Journal

Well these past months when I haven’t been studying for the ACT or the SAT or the SAT IIs, I have been studying for Spanish literature, sociology, economy, etc. So my past few months have been incredibly busy with school. Too busy!

The most recent thing I did that was really really neat, I mean everything I do is really neat in my opinion jaja but maybe not for everyone, was I went to see FUERZABRUTA. This was an act made by the VANGUARDIA, in ingles I think it is called Vanguard. It was really really cool. Throughout the entire [obra] we were moving because those acting moved as well. Above us was a huge pool of water where people were acting. It was really hard to describe but a really amazing experience.

A lot of the exchange students that were here in Argentina left this past weekend, which for me was really weird because it was my wake up call that I too would be going home soon. Well for some people 37 more days may seem like a long time, like my mom and dad back in the USA. But for me and my friends here it is nothing. In fact me and my host brother went the other day to the Argentina immigrations place to ask a question about my visa and as a joke my host brother asked if we could make me a citizen, but they said not unless we were married, so we decided that I’ll just have to take out a visa next time I want to come jajaja.

It seems weird now to write a journal about how I took the bus alone or the train alone, or about how we eat dinner at 11 at night, because to me all those little things that I had never done before seem normal to me, and not just that they seem normal but I have a hard time imagining how it was before I got here. I have truly fallen in love with not only Argentina, my friends, my family, and my life here, but I have also really learned to love the Jen that I have become in Argentina.

But as sad as it for me to think about leaving and going back it makes me also happy. I will now have the opportunity to share with all my family and friends about Argentina. And I was also be able to share America with my Argentine friends when they come and visit. So when I come home I know that I am really bringing back Argentina with me.