Two months in (over halfway done with the semester, where did the time go?) and you’re probably wondering what I’m actually doing here in New York, huh? Well, I’m participating in the New York Arts Program (NYAP), where the primary focus is to set students up in internships that appeal to their creative passions. I’m specifically enrolled in the Writing & Communications section, though the NYAP also works with students involved in visual art, theater, and music.
For the program, I’m interning with a small publishing company called DAW Books (named after one of its founders, Donald A. Wollheim) for 30 hours every week. Despite being located in the Penguin Random House building, the company is actually private, meaning that the two amazing women who own the company, Sheila Gilbert and Betsy Wollheim, make the final decisions.
Though DAW is small, they have a lot of big names in fantasy and science fiction associated with them, including Patrick Rothfuss, Tad Williams, C.J. Cherryh, Kristen Britain, Seanan McGuire, Merecedes Lackey, and Tanith Lee.
DAW Books is run by a handful of people, so my internship isn’t in one department or another, but allows me to witness all aspects of the publishing world and gear my internship towards what I am interested in (which is primarily editorial, but honestly, everything fascinates me).
Lately, a lot of my job has been reading manuscripts from the slush pile (unsolicited manuscripts aka work from writers not represented by an agent). I’m required to read the first 100 pages of the manuscript and then I decide if I want to “reject” it or recommend it for further consideration. If I want to recommend a manuscript, I have to read it to its entirety. With each manuscript I read, I have to write a “book report” for it, which includes filling out four categories: overview, summary, review, and other thoughts. So far a lot of the manuscripts have been…erm, cringey, but I’ve learned that’s to be expected with the slush pile.
(UPDATE: After meeting with my sponsor–who was rather pleased with my reports–I’m now allowed to read as little as the first 20 pages. *brushes shoulder in attempted nonchalant manner*)
At my internship, I get to juggle a lot of other back burner projects, as well. I regularly check google alerts for book reviews to add to the quotes database, update their cover catalog, and send out semi-weekly emails with publishing news. I’m also working on a project that involves updating online information for some of DAW’s backlist titles.
In addition, I have the frequent duties of copying manuscript pages with edits (in case the original document gets lost), proofreading covers & dust jackets, compiling praise quotes, and helping organize books.
DAW is incredible in many ways such as providing free lunch and coffee everyday to all their employees, including me! As a woman who hates cooking and who is currently in NYC where everything is expensive, this is literally a godsend.
As a book nerd completely smitten with the fantasy genre, interning at DAW Books has been an invaluable experience so far. Not only has my knowledge of the publishing industry grown leaps and bounds, but my time at DAW has reaffirmed my dream to pursue a career in publishing after college.
As blunt and exaggerated as it sounds, this past week was one of the coolest and most precious weeks of my life! My spring break was split into two parts and both equally memorable. The first half of my spring break was spent with my Mom (I know I said that last post but it is a highlight for me), mostly in Puerto Lopez. We spent a day touring Quito and I got to show my mom everything the locals showed me when I first arrived in the gorgeous Historic Center of Quito. From the 13,500 ft. city view to the ancient cathedrals, we loved and enjoyed the beautiful city buzz of Quito. We then flew to the Pacific Coast of Ecuador to the small beach town of Puerto Lopez where we enjoyed a few relaxing days in hammocks overlooking the ocean. We stayed in a cute hotel where we slept with bug nets surrounding us in our own mini beach hut. We enjoyed beach walks, seafood, wildlife, game time, sunshine, and simply talking until we had to say goodbye at the airport a few days later. My heart felt so heavy with my mom leaving, knowing that my physical support was going to be gone again, but I was so overwhelmed with gratitude that she was able to come to spend that precious time with me. I know her heart broke as well because she is such a compassionate and empathetic mom, who didn’t want to leave her child again.
All is well. Mom made it home safe to the rest of our family, and I took off for part two of my spring break with my study abroad program. This final weekend of spring break was spent on one of the Galapagos Islands in the Pacific Ocean off of the coast of Ecuador. If you have heard anything about these islands, I am sure you have heard of their extravagant beauty and wildlife, that I can say is constantly evident. They are Ecuador’s version of Hawaii with more wildlife, but also formed by volcanos. There are 13 islands in all of the Galapagos, 4 of which have small populations of people who live there. One of those islands is San Cristobal where I spent the past 4 days. Since we were a bit short on time, we couldn’t do the island hopping tour unfortunately, but we were able to pack the 4 days we had on San Cristobal with snorkeling, hiking, and boating! By boating to different parts of the island, and completing a 360 tour around the island one of the days, we were able to see everything that San Cristobal has to offer. The bright side to a short Galapagos trip in March, their hottest month, means less sunburn from the intensity on the equator! (I am proud to say that I didn’t burn, but I have also never worn so much sunscreen or wore a jacket in 85 degree weather!)
We saw all types of wild life– sharks, sea lions, sea turtles, fish, the ginormous land turtles, sting rays, eagle rays, iguanas, blue footed boobies, fragatas, and mocking birds. We were able to see these animals up close and in their natural habitats. We snorkeled in the bright turquoise water in the bays that entice wildlife and walked the white, powder beaches that look like the actual google images photos. Our walks on the black volcanic rock provided no shade but unique experiences with the endemic wildlife of the Galapagos. (Yes, endemic is the one biology word I learned and understood while I was there haha). I am not sure if I’ll ever make it back to the Galapagos again, but I know there is so much more there to explore on the other islands that will be awaiting me!
Getting back from the incredibly exhausting travel week Sunday night with school the next morning, isn’t my ideal way to jump into midterm exams, but the once-in-a-lifetime experiences were definitely worth it! To all my Hope friends and Michiganders struggling in the crazy weather that is changing daily, your break is coming so soon and I will soon be jealous of you :).
Thank you everyone for your continued prayers and support as my journey continues to unfold! I am thankful for the week I had to break from academics.
I spent the weekend in Seville! CIEE organized a planned weekend trip to Seville, Spain. Sevilla is a part of the Andalusian region of Spain. It used to be populated by people mostly from the middle east and home to three of the country’s most practiced religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Today, you can see so many remnants of its past and the way in which those things are still a part of the culture today. For example, there used to be mostly Arabic speakers in this part of the country and that affected a lot of the town names, colloquial terms, and the accent. Andalucía was previously known as Al-Andalus to the former Arabic-speaking inhabitants. If you think is cool, you’re gonna flip when I tell you that I went to the royal palace of the famous Catholic King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella of Spain. Fun fact: it is still used as a palace for the Spanish monarchy when they make visits to this region. There’s a beautiful culture and history to unpack here in Andalusia and I’m going to tell you a little bit more about what I learned!
One of the classes I’m taking this semester is Religion and Society and we focus on the three main religions of Spain. It’s such a great class because we are able to not only learn about the religions, but how they were created, intertwined with society, and understand more about their structure. Often, classes on religion can become more preachy than teachy; however, this class gives us actual accounts of the facts, beliefs, and societal perceptions over time. I love it! What makes it better is that over the weekend I was able to visit some of the sites we discussed.
We left around 8:30 AM Friday morning for Sevilla. I slept most of the ride there. About 5 hours into our drive, we stopped for lunch. This was the first I had a traditional Spanish meal since the summer. Next, we made a stop in Cordoba. Ever heard of it? Well, if you were to ask any Muslim at the height of their expansion into the west, and specifically Spain, you would know that it held one of three important Mosques of its time. It was the central Mosque for Muslims in Spain. However, as I learned in my class and during our tour of the mosque, it did not remain a mosque. After many years of oppression, relentless efforts by the Pope and catholic rulers throughout Europe, all of these religious spaces, including Jewish synagogues, were “Christianized.”
To give you a clearer picture, let’s talk about the royal palace in Seville. It is almost entirely decorated in Arabic script and constructed in Islamic style architecture. When you go deeper into the palace and its many salas you would be suddenly struck with byzantine Christian imagery. I’m talking about all the stuff that Muslims would avoid to remain their founding principal of equality. You will see paintings that reach all four corners of a wall adorned with golden elaborately designed frames. Angels, Jesus, saints — if it’s Christian, then it is present in any of the Christianized religious buildings. In class, I learned that this kind of complete take over and hierarchical power structure that we find in Christianity is deeply rooted in the political and societal structure of Ancient Rome. For me, it cleared up all the conflicting ideas that were present in Christianity. I could honestly write a whole blog on just how much I’ve learned about these 3 religions’ fundamental and structural makeup. I’ll leave you here this time and pick it up in a later blog. Now it’s story time!
While in Cordoba and Sevilla, we visited some off site locations such as the medieval Jewish neighborhoods that once occupied so much of these cities. Upon walking away from the palace, we find ourselves in one of these beautiful and historical juderias (Jewish neighborhood). This isn’t any ordinary Jewish quarter because it is the actual location in which a story of star crossed lovers met their fate. I am really trying to make this interesting and suspenseful. Is it working? Okay, let’s keep going haha. There was a young Jewish girl and young Christian boy who shared a forbidden love for each other. One night, the young Jewish girl planned to meet her lover in the neighborhood square. She heard her father talking about planning an attack on the Christians who lived nearby. When the Christian boy got word of this, he decided to tell his comrades in order to prepare themselves for the events to take place that night. In the end, everyone is slain except the couple. It was such a deadly battle and it caused the Christian boy to want nothing to do with the young Jewish girl. She was then without parents, without a lover, and without any place to go. She goes to the church, and yes, I mean the catholic church, to ask for help. They tell her that they will help her, but only if she converts to Christianity and joins the convent as a nun. The young Jewish girl then lives the rest of her life as a Christian woman.
Everything I’ve told you to this point is an actual account of history in this neighborhood that happened thousands of years ago, if I remember correctly, it happened in the 15th or 16th century. However, the legend goes on to say that before she died, she asked that her head be separated from her body and placed in her childhood home as a lesson to young Jewish children not to disobey their elder or betray their people. Although the story is unfortunate, it has been kept alive for generations and the legend has taken the shape of a narrow street and a tile decorated with a skull. The street of the dead who were killed that night of the battle and a skull to remember the “wishes” of the young Jewish girl. This was all told to me in Spanish by the way. It was pretty amazing to be in this spot in which it all took place so long ago. Then, as we exited, I began to admittedly critique the character of the young Christian boy who abandoned his star-crossed lover. Que tonto era! He was such a jerk!
Before I get upset again about this 15th/16th century Justin Bieber wannabe…let’s just look at some pretty pictures in the video below haha.
Eyelashes, or if you prefer the Greek, βλεφαρίδες, are what I’ve wished on from the moment I thought I could study abroad (roughly 19 months, 9 days, 16 hours and 31 minutes ago). I would peer at them for a moment, tiny and delicate on my index finger, and resolve a melody of thoughts. This is for Greece; Greece; Greece; I am going to Greece. I believe that they are the most unique way of talking to God. My eyelashes are not long and elegant, but He made me the way I am, so the offering of little stubby strands are blown away. God is not a genie, however; so I learn to accept that what I wish on an eyelash isn’t what He has planned for me.
I wiped an eyelash off my face this morning, and dropped it into my sink. As it swirled away in the water, I thought about how I don’t need to wish anymore, because that sink is in my little apartment on Ερατοσθένους street in the neighborhood of Pagrati, Athens, Greece. In this ancient place of the Greek gods, I am still ever faithful to the God. As for being grateful to Him for getting me here, I thank God every day by experiencing. For instance, I have visited perhaps the ultimate Athens attraction, the Acropolis, around six times now. Just like those silent wishes, my heart and mind’s awe is my communication. But even the simple things, like giggling when I see something new and amazing in the grocery store (Buffalo Milk Butter?) and grinning at the Oregano-flavored Lay’s chips… I know my laughter floats to Him.
While finishing this post on my balcony, I think of everything: 68 degrees Farenheit, 19.444 Celsius, I broke out my shorts yesterday, my neighbor’s plants, the non-stop traffic, the end of Carnival, the Domino’s Pizza on the corner, Kekko’s Coffee and Sweets across the street, the clouds rolling in, and the eyelashes no longer wished on.
Remember when I said that people like to stare in Madrid? During orientation, one of the Spanish assistants in the CIEE Global Institute explained that it has nothing to do with us and that the Madrileños just like to stare. Turns out there’s a lot more to this story then she led on. Moises, a student in my program, is doing a full year in the Liberal Arts Program; therefore, this is his second semester. He’s from the Dominican Republic and has a different accent and colloquial terms from a Spaniard. He’s very tall, brown skinned, and has beautiful, curly black hair. People always stare at him with a little bit of a feeling of alarm because he looks “foreign” and “unpredictable.” When he opens his mouth to speak Spanish, he is told that he speaks bad Spanish. Spanish classmates don’t want to work with him because he’s different; because he’s black. I am also stared at with looks of exotic wonder and a feeling of distrust. Racism exists in all parts of the world and is inescapable for black and brown people around the world.
I am “otherized” back home in the states as well. It doesn’t make my experience in Spain any easier; however, I already have tools to deal with covert racism. There are only four black students in my program, including myself. One of these students has witnessed a white Spaniard call the police on an African immigrant in the most diverse neighborhood in Madrid, what we call in the states a “high risk,” or “bad” area. The same student overheard a Spaniard say that he spoke Spanish “like the Cubans” or a “slave.” This is not what I want to report on about my daily life in Spain, but it’s an important aspect of my life — not a political debate or a conversation about race. It’s a reality that racism exists everywhere and as a person of color, I don’t catch a break from it. During my time here, I’ve made a friend who is a black Madrileña. She is a Spanish citizen and grew up in Madrid, but at the end of the day she does not get to exercise her full rights as a citizen and is made to feel like an outsider. Some of her black friends from various backgrounds are running for office because they are Spanish citizens and will fight to be treated like it.
Differences in culture and race are a big part of my reason for studying abroad in Spain. Over the summer, I was not able to learn a lot about this aspect of life because I was only gaining perspective from white Spaniards. They told me that the U.S. was worse, but I would also see the way some looked down on the African immigrants and the gitanos (gypsy) or Roma people. I knew there was more to this story, so I came back to find out. I will continually talk about this topic as I gain more insight and perspective. I can tell you now that Spain is very much in the “I don’t see color” racial identity stage. This is the idea that if we do not acknowledge the difference, there can’t be racism. As many black (African Americans) people would say, “ das a bol face lie” which means that they know this can’t be true. If they did not see color, why do they feel uncomfortable around Moises, Brian, the African immigrant, and me?
On a lighter note, I have plenty of other daily experiences to share about my life here in Madrid as well. I’m going to break this up into categories to make it easier to explain. Also, I talk about these things and more in the video below.
Groceries
They are a lot cheaper here than they are back home. Things are never sold in bundles or as deals like “10 for 10 with the 11th item free” or “Buy One, Get One Free.” Everything has a pretty set price and it’s marked down when its going out of season or is popular for a special time. I go grocery shopping every two days at least. As you could imagine, this is a hard concept for an American to wrap her head around. My mom would go shopping every Saturday for 1-2 weeks worth of groceries. It’s a huge change. At first, my housemates bought the items that we all needed to share as a house, which I recommend because it saves money and time. The first two weeks I was just guessing, but now I know how to shop for myself. The trick is to buy what you need, and maybe one or two things that are simply for your enjoyment. Don’t buy anything more than what you need until it has run out, or else, it will spoil quickly because the food is not made with preservatives like in the U.S. Bread is baked fresh daily, so you should buy pan, a baguette, every 1-2 days, but have backup pan bimbo, a loaf of bread. I will have this down to a science in a month, so wait for my update haha.
Cooking
For the past few years, I thought that I was just horrible at cooking and shopping for groceries. However, I’ve learned here in Spain that the only thing that I was missing was an opportunity with a sprinkle of motivation. I’ve lived on main campus the past three years, and for two of them in Kollen Hall. Have you seen the size of the kitchen? Can you imagine all 250 residents trying to cook even one meal a day in that kitchen? Yeah, impossible. I was always thankful for my meal plan, but it felt like a crutch at the same time. I wasn’t able to make decisions on my own about what I should be eating and I didn’t have the opportunity to gain confidence in the kitchen and cook for myself. I realized that I know a lot more than I thought about food and cooking. All those years in the kitchen with my mom and watching her cook have paid off. I do know how to make things, and it isn’t to hard for me to learn something new or make something up with Spanish ingredients. I have to adapt to the kind of produce that is available for the season and that can be grown here. In the U.S., you can find anything because of our high use of preservatives and imported produce. Spain is a main producer for a lot of produce in Europe, however, it still has seasonal and regional restrictions. Also, I took a Spanish cooking class to learn how to make some of my favorite Spanish meals, such as paella (a seafood rice dish) and tortilla de patata (potato omelette)!
Laundry
We don’t have a dryer. How do we dry clothes, you may wonder? I noticed this over the summer, too. Spanish people will normally only have a lavadora, washer, and dry things on their clothes line on the balcony. Yes, even in the winter. To be honest they don’t have a real winter. But, don’t tell them I said that. They think it’s cold haha. But that’s all I have to report on laundry.
Transportation
I take the metro everywhere with a monthly pass called an abono. I love it! It’s one of the things I missed when I got back home to the U.S. after the summer here in Europe. At 16, I was so excited to drive. Fast forward five years, I am always asking other people to drive for me. I love catching a ride on the metro and cercanias, a faster train for long distance outside of the city. I even took a ride on the bus the other day for a class field trip. I’ve always been horrible at public transportation in the states because I never had to learn it. Honestly, if you don’t live in a big city, you don’t learn and you don’t have a good system in your town. However, my summer in Europe gave me so much confidence and now I can handle anything. Even when I don’t know the language. Speaking of which, I’ve planned a trip to Portugal for spring break. Can’t wait!
Classes
Everything is in Spanish. Okay, this is why I chose the program. I wanted the challenge and to improve my Spanish in this way. In the future, I plan to do research in a Spanish speaking country so this is perfect! I was surprised by how quickly I adjusted. The moment I began taking notes in Spanish was the moment I felt so accomplished in my Spanish language abilities haha *flips braids over shoulder*. My reading comprehension takes me a bit longer than in English. I’ve learned that a lot of my bad habits in English and American style learning have crossed over and I’ve had to reevaluate the way I study. For example, not taking notes because “I can just remember,” does not work for me here. I am more inclined to take notes for memorization of important themes. This helps a lot with learning in another language. It’s hard for me to recall information in Spanish because my brain hasn’t gotten used to having to do it. In the moment of instruction, I understand everything and I make great connections in Spanish; however, later my brain has turned the comprehension into English. This is to say I can’t remember it perfectly or exactly in Spanish, although I learned it that way. I expect this to improve over time. All of my classes are in Spanish, but only one is a direct enroll with Spanish students. The professor speaks at a normal speed, which I understand, but if I take a moment to multitask, such as taking notes while listening to the lecture, I only catch a few words of what he’s saying. I’m going to start recording the lectures. Passively listening in Spanish is not my strong suit yet. My other classes are with other international students who are not native Spanish speakers. The professors speak at the same speed, but will stop to make sure we comprehend. It is a lot easier to speak in these classes. Not because I’m self-conscious in my direct enrollment class, but because I don’t speak as fast as a native speaker yet. My Spanish classmates speak so fast and sometimes really low or they have a different accent I don’t understand really well. These are challenges. However, I expect it to get easier over time.
Phew! I have so much more to talk about. I’ll have to update you next week. Stay tuned!
My mom is here– like my actual, real, biological mother! Since deciding to come to Ecuador last fall, I had always hoped that my mom would be able to come visit. When I arrived in January, we began to make the arrangements for my spring break, which is next week. All I have to say is YAY, and thank you God for making this opportunity a reality!
As many of you already know, my mom is literally my best friend. I really don’t know what I would do without her. She is selfless and loves her family so much. Being away from home has shown me how much both she and my dad care for my brothers and me. Their love is more extravagant than I knew was possible.
Now that she is here, I get to show her around my new hometown of Cumbayá, my school and service learning placement. My family gets to see pictures I take when I am traveling, but I am so thankful for the opportunity I have this week to show my mom the daily life I live here. We will also be spending a day in Quito going through the historical center and churches and seeing magnificent views of the city! I am so excited for this day because it is so different from anything my mom has ever experienced, and I get to be the tour guide! After two days in the place I call home for now, we will be headed to the province of Manabí along the coast of Ecuador to the small town of Puerto Lopez. This small beach town is part of the Machalilla National Park, home to beautiful beaches, delicious seafood, surfing and wildlife, and the well-known Isla de Plata.
Of course I am excited for this travel opportunity, but I am most excited to simply be with my mom. I feel like it has been forever since I talked with someone who really understands me. My mom literally flew across the world just to spend a couple of days with me! Yes, she does get a mini vacation out of the deal too, but I know she would never take a mini trip like this otherwise for vacation. Not only that, but my three brothers are at home with my dad during one of his busiest weeks of work. Plus, my grandparents who are always the first to offer help, are also out of town. My mom is here for me.
So, here’s to a weekend of probably lots of laughter, tears, relaxing, and hugs– I know I will be savoring every moment. If I’ve learned anything in the recent months, it is that home isn’t always a physical place. I am homesick not because of my physical home (I mean, how could I be when it is located in the tundra), but I am homesick because people are my home. My family and my friends are my home and I miss them! Thanks to a loving dad, understanding brothers, an adventurous mom, and a giving Heavenly Father, I get to spend a weekend with a glimpse of my home here in Ecuador.
Following along the journey of a nursing student continues. On today’s episode of Annie survives Chicago, we will see a short, Asian young lady attempting to blot away her worries with beautiful conservatories, visits by her best friend, lunar new year celebrations, and bubble tea. Don’t be fooled by her long work days; she continues to live her life to the fullest.
All joking aside, the last few weeks have been an excellent balance between work, home duties, cooking (because food is paramount), and exploring new parts of the city. Although I feel like I will say that in every post, there truly is something new in the city every time I step foot out of my apartment. The streets are filled with evidence of rich culture and history of the city’s people. I cannot believe that Saturday marks six weeks since I’ve moved to Chicago. I’ve settled into my routine (and, of course, mixing it up every now and then) and continue to figure out the teeter-totter of balancing adult-like responsibilities while still adventuring in the city.
When my friend visited from home, we had planned our entire weekend to the “t”. And, how fortunate was it that she came the weekend of National Pizza Day. That Saturday, we went to a Puerto Rican restaurant called Nellie’s Restaurant and ate their breakfast special: omelet with chorizo and veggies topped with plantains, french white toast, and coconut oatmeal. All were delicious! I was initially apprehensive about the coconut oatmeal, but it ended up tasting like cinnamon rice pudding.
After we thoroughly stuffed our hungry (which quickly turned to not-so-hungry) stomachs, we scurried over to Garfield Park Conservatory. I can’t say much more about it other than it was breathtaking. I’ll just let the photos speak for themselves. Plants are pretty.
The next day was filled with Chinese New Year celebrations! After church, we decided to grab lunch in Chinatown at a Cantonese restaurant. It’s pretty typical to order several entrees and the entire party share. The custom is fairly common in Asian countries. Among the entrees we ordered, there was egg drop soup, vegetarian egg rolls, Mongolian beef, curry chicken, orange chicken, and chicken fried rice.
One of my (and everyone else in China’s) favorite part about the lunar new year is the red envelopes. If you don’t know what I’m referring to, red envelopes are what kids receive for Chinese New Year and have money inside (I’m sure you can now see why it’s everyone’s most anticipated part of the holiday). There was a parade, which we ended up missing because we thought it would last at least an hour. By the time we finished eating, the parade had just finished…so sad. We at least got to see the countdown. After the countdown was finished, we went to buy rolled ice-cream and bubble tea. Weekends always fly by quickly, but I’m thankful for the fun I pack into them.
On the internship side of my week, I’ve been slowly growing comfortable in the operating room (OR) both circulating and scrubbing in on cases. There are so many nuances and multitasking skills needed in the OR that can only be gained from experience in the OR. I’m so incredibly thankful for the nurses and surgical technicians who have been patient enough to take the time to teach me how to open surgical instruments, teach me the names of instruments, and the specifics of how to scrub and circulate. I’ve learned so much about surgical services and I continue to analyze my weaknesses and grow from my mistakes. I appreciate how the nurses are able to point out my mistakes and forgive them even more easily. I’ve always been a believer that learning from your mistakes is the best way to grow.
One of the fanciest events that I’ve attended thus far is the opera, Elektra! It was so fun this past Friday to dress up in fancy attire and listen to really talented people paint a beautiful ancient story with their voices. It captured the rawness of humanity and vulnerability in its true form.
Overall, I’m still finding myself in each part of the city and simply enjoying the ride. Bonus material: here are some cool murals I’ve found around the city. Ta-ta for now!
“My soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from Him.” — Psalm 62:1
It is the weekend, I have no plans, and I love it! I have been looking forward to this week for the past three weeks because I get to rest! Remember last week when I wrote about all the travel opportunities, adventure on every corner, and the biggest bang for your buck? Those things all remain true, but I am exhausted. I have traveled by bus to a different part of Ecuador every weekend since my arrival, and I just need a break.
Immersed in a “go-with-the-flow” culture where everything is “tranquila,” my mind and my body have struggled to know how to slow down. Rest is an essential part of life that our bodies need to thrive, yet mine does not know how. Those things called hobbies that most people have or that list of Netflix shows everyone watches, my brain does not know how to enjoy. Living a life at a slower pace sounds impossible to me because I don’t know how to handle the down moments.
Apart from traditional academics, much of this semester for me is learning how to rest. Disclaimer: I honestly don’t know how to do that yet. My life before coming to Ecuador was lived at a pace way faster than what is healthy; I hated the thought of slowing down, and I thought rest was a waste of time. Culture-shock to me is that it isn’t and I need to re-learn how to live.
It’s kind of like going on a first date with myself. It feels like a long, slow, and awkward process that keeps me wondering, “how much longer until this is over.” I have to figure out how to make myself thrive with energy, happiness, and peace. My semester is about discovering the blessing of rest. The blessing of rest given by a God who longs for my soul to rest confidently and securely in Him. I’ve spent the first twenty years of my life running from this blessing because I never recognized it in that way.
This weekend I have time to rest my body and my mind, and I am so thankful. I know this means a hard weekend mentally coming my way, because like I said, I haven’t been trained for this. I am learning to see these times as a blessing, because I know that they are essential for me to grow, learn, and thrive as the person my Heavenly Father created me to be. It is a gift that I am given to enjoy this weekend teaching my soul the necessity of ALWAYS resting in HIM!
Just this week I finished my first six weeks of my semester in France and can I just say, wow. I know study abroad is an incredible experience to get out and see the world, but my classes have put the study in study abroad. This week we will be talking about the French education system, particularly the university system of which I am the most familiar.
For my program with CIEE, I am required to complete two six-week intensive grammar classes and three other classes taught in French, one of which has to be done at a local university. Since I am now six weeks in, I have just completed the first grammar class and also a French philosophy class. Being intensives, these classes meet frequently and for long periods of time. As an example, for my grammar class we meet Monday through Thursday for two and a half hours each day, ending with a grand total of sixty class hours over the span of six weeks.
This class is entitled Writing Workshop and it is essentially designed to help us succeed in our classes at French university. I actually really enjoyed it because this class is taught by probably one of my favorite human-beings in existence, Marie-Christine, who is a lifelong parisienne that probably stands no taller than five feet and is well into her sixties. If caffeine could take a human form then it would definitely be MC, she has so much energy which is exactly what you need at nine a.m. on a Monday morning.
Everyday after MC marches in and shouts a joyful “BONJOUR” to us, my class starts with a warm up called “quoi de neuf” which means “what’s new?” This is the time where my classmates and I can tell stories about our experiences in Paris and give each other recommendations on places to visit, gossip about our host families, and really just talk about anything so long as it is in French. I consider this my favorite part of class because I can recount a story about something incredibly mundane and normal but Marie-Christine will listen intently and after I’ve finished she will shout some exclamatory like “GENIAL” (great) or “FORMIDABLE” (wonderful). Honestly, this woman provides the kind of encouragement I need.
After our daily quoi de neuf, Marie-Christine moves on to teach important grammar points that will be important for refining our language, but her first mission was to teach the class how to do an exposé. You may be asking yourself: what is an exposé? Well let me tell you, it can be really fun and it can also be really not fun, but we’ll get to that later.
An exposé is essentially a twenty minute presentation, usually done in pairs, about a subject presented to you in the form of a research question, not really anything new or exciting. However, the French way of presenting is quite different. Here’s how I would explain it: Americans say what their subject is and make a claim about it, then they present information supporting their claim and refute counterarguments, ultimately ending with a brief summary of the argument and how it can be applied to different real-life situations. The French explain the context of their subject, state their research question, state their research question in different words, explain the order of what they will do, talk about their research, restate what they have talked about, and lastly state their argument. While my class was learning about this incredibly foreign and slightly nonsensical way of presenting, we were all completely blown away by how counterintuitive the entire process was from what we had been taught in the American system and it took us a while to fully understand the concept.
After we learned how to do an exposé, we were tasked with actually carrying one out on different subjects and people in the quarter of Paris called Montmartre. Since the concept was so strange to us, this first round of exposés was slightly awkward because we had never done them before. After that first round where we all presented our exposés for our class and the beloved Marie-Christine, we started a second round of exposés that went much smoother than the first on the subject of Montparnasse, another famous quarter in Paris.
When we aren’t working on our exposés in writing workshop we are learning grammar, and not normal grammar; this is upper level stuff that has definitely had my brain doing gymnastics. While it has been hard to learn and difficult to grasp certain concepts, I definitely feel like I’ve already learned so much and my French is much more fluid than it was six weeks ago.
One final piece of this class that I have yet to mention are our group outings. My class has done extensive research on two important quarters in Paris: Montmartre and Montparnasse. These two neighborhoods have been host to some of the greatest French and foreign artists to live in Paris. Characters such as Pablo Picasso, Sartre, Gertrude Stein, Saint Denis, Josephine Baker, Kiki de Montparnasse, are all people we have studied and after all of that research Marie Christine took us out on little field trips to explore the areas. It was on one of these tours that I got to see Bateau-Lavoir, the workshop of famous creatives linked to Pablo Picasso, Cimetière de Montparnasse where Jean-Paul Sartre and Man Ray are buried, and Sacre Coeur at the top of Montmartre.
The view from Montmartre
La Coupole, one of the most famous cafés in MontparnasseThe other requirement of my program is to take at least one class at a local university. For this, I was given the option between two schools within the University of Paris system, Sorbonne Nouvelle which is well known for its classes in cinema and literature, or Paris Diderot which is a largely humanities based school with broader options for classes. Not quite knowing what kinds of classes I wanted to take, I chose Diderot since it gave me greater variety.
In front of Diderot, excuse the wild hair
At Diderot I chose to take two classes, a history class about South Asia with a particular concentration on colonial India, and a sociology course about migration and globalization. These are both semester long courses taught in French (obviously) for French students. The one really great thing about these classes is that they aren’t intensive like my classes at CIEE so instead of meeting every day we only meet once a week for three hours.
Right away I noticed some very distinct differences between French and American university:
The professor is never on time. Both of my professors show up to class usually two or three minutes after the scheduled start time and don’t rush to start class even though they are late. Consequently, they don’t end on time either. This is especially unpleasant because three hours is long enough for a class, my attention span cannot be extended much longer than that so an extra fifteen minutes is not exactly my cup of tea.
We have breaks. This is one of the differences that I actually like about French university. Because classes are three hours long (and sometimes even longer), the professors usually give us a 5-10 minute break around the middle to get up and move around so we don’t fall asleep.
Grading system. The French university (and every other level of French education) is established not on a 100 point scale but a 20 point scale. This is something I’m still getting used to because when I get a paper back with a 14 out of 20 I freak out thinking I got a 70% on that assignment. The funny thing is that a 14 is actually considered a really good grade…let me explain. According to the university scale scores from 15-20 are an A, 14 is A-, 13 B+, 12 B, 11 B-, 10 C, and so on. From what I’ve been told, a 10 is the cutoff for passing or not so if a French student gets a 10 or higher, they’re really happy. Marie-Christine has told me that not many students even get a 15 and if you do then you’ve done really, really well. That being said, I’m still adjusting to this scale because I prefer the American 100-point scale since there isn’t such a steep drop-off between an A and failing.
French students don’t know how to speak in public. Okay that’s only partially true, but hear me out. From my experience, I have never had a problem understanding a French professor because they all speak clearly and use good diction. Occasionally professors will start to speak a bit too fast and their words will run together but that hasn’t happened very frequently. The students, on the other hand, don’t speak like that at all. When they ask questions or speak in class they don’t raise their voices, speak clearly, or have any kind of gap between their words, yet somehow the professor manages to understand them perfectly! I noticed the same thing when they present their exposés. A lot of students will have scripts written out so they just read what they want to say and when they do that it’s even harder to understand because they read so fast and speak directly to their notes, not the class. Even if I try to read their lips or look at their powerpoints, I don’t really get a good sense of what’s going on.
You get what you pay for. University is a lot less expensive in France than it is in the United States and it shows in the way that the university functions, particularly in the relationship between professor and student. In the U.S. I’ve had so many professors who are incredibly invested in the success of their students, so when I got to France I was shocked to find that this wasn’t the case. This isn’t to say that I have bad professors because I think both of them are fantastic, however they need you to tell them where you’re at with class subjects and lectures in order for them to better accommodate to your needs. They don’t have office hours so it’s important that you talk to them right away before or after class. If that doesn’t work, then an email will have to suffice, however they tend to take a long time to reply, if they do reply. As an international student, I can’t expect my professors to read my mind so if something is wrong I have to speak up.
One kind of funny example of this last point comes from my first day at French university. I was with a friend from my program and we had taken really good notes throughout the entire class, then the professor wanted to assign exposés before the class was over. Now my friend and I weren’t technically registered for the class and she and I had yet to do our exposés with Marie-Christine so we figured we would wait until we got officially enrolled in the class before we volunteered to do an exposé for it. Well wouldn’t you know, the professor assigned exposés to everyone in the class and then asked if there was anyone who hadn’t yet volunteered. It was clear at this point that it was down to just a select few people who hadn’t, my friend and I included. So I raised my hand and asked if I could speak to the professor after class. It all went downhill from there. Instead of saying that she’d talk to me, she assigned my friend and I the very first exposé to be presented in a week. It took a second for the information to sink in and then suddenly class was over and everyone was gone. I went up to the professor and explained to her that I was an international student and that I wasn’t yet registered for her class and could I please not do the exposé next week? She enrolled me in her class right there and told me she anticipated my presentation. I was in a bad way after that. I called my mom and talked her through the situation and she did her best to encourage me.
My friend and I worked tirelessly all week and consulted Marie-Christine on how to do it, by the time the next class came around we were nervous. The professor invited us up to present and just as I got out of my seat I knocked my Hydroflask (those huge metal water bottles you see all over campus at Hope) off my desk onto the tile floor and let me just say it was not quiet. I was mortified! I quickly pulled myself together and we got up to do our presentation. It was a little weird considering we were two foreign students presenting in a language and format that made sense to everyone else in the room but us, but we did it! We finished and I swear I left that class feeling two inches taller!
So this story doesn’t really have much of a moral, but if I could do it again, knowing what I know now, I would have had a longer conversation with my professor and told her my situation: I’m not only an international student who doesn’t speak French as a first language, but also I’ve never done a presentation in the French format before. If I would have done that I’m not sure what the result would have been, but at least the professor would have been more aware of my situation so that maybe she would have given us more guidance and let us learn from other students before we had to present ourselves.
In sum, school here is difficult. It’s difficult to summarize my entire six weeks of schooling in just a few pages of writing, but while it has been a challenge, I also know that I’m growing immensely. Just yesterday I went to an extra-curricular lecture and started talking to a professor in French, he thought I was in France for my masters degree and was shocked to find out that I was just here for a semester after only having visited the country once before. It’s moments like this that remind me that despite this program’s difficulty, I am making progress.
Much to my disappointment, it is not “The Suite Life of Keri and her roommate, Christine.” (They don’t let residents ride on the luggage carts! What a shocker, right?)
But, yes, I am living in a hotel called the New Yorker, located in Midtown. In the hotel, there are about 6 floors that belong to EHS (Educational Housing Services), which is the housing program that the New York Arts Program uses.
I know that I’ve been here for 5+ weeks, but I thought you guys might be curious about where I’m living, so I wanted to devote a whole post to it and supply a few pictures!
My room, which I already stated that I share with my roommate, Christine (who is an awesome gal with pink hair and a passion for comics) overlooks 8th Avenue. It’s a pretty standard dorm setup, with partially lofted beds, desks, and two short dressers. We also have the nice addition of a mini fridge and an attached bathroom!
My room is located on the 9th floor. On the 15th floor is where all the EHS facilities are located, such as the main office, mail room, a lounge, TV room, and a quiet work space.
(Please forgive the slightly darkened pictures; I took them at nighttime when they’re weren’t many people around.)
There’s also a really classy kitchen and a small gym, but I don’t use those enough to take pictures of them (not to mention, I get self-conscious about taking pictures in a public setting).
Fun tidbit for you dog lovers: The Westminster Dog Show was last week at Madison Square Garden (which is literally across the street from the hotel!) and a bunch of the dogs and their owners stayed at the New Yorker. Let me tell you: walking through a lobby full of dogs was a fabulous addition to my day.
And now for the book portion of this blog (because it wouldn’t be a post by me if it didn’t talk about books for a little bit!)… Because I’m technically a student living in NYC, I was able to get a New York Public Library card! This means I now own 3 library cards! Do you see this? New York has 92 branches! I’m swooning.
Last week at the library, I listened to a panel called “Mid-Sentence | Modern Lovers: ChangingFaces in Romance Fiction” which was about the (slow) changing tide in the romance book industry to include more diverse protagonists that accurately reflect its wide range of readers. In my reading, I generally lean towards YA (young adult) and fantasy novels, so I wasn’t all that familiar with the genre, which is why I decided to go! I’m slowly pushing the bounds of my comfort zone, traveling to places by myself and exploring events that favor interests similar to mine, but that are also mixed with something that isn’t familiar to me.
So there you have it: an insight into where I’m living and what I’ve been up to lately. My anxiousness and stress seems to have finally settled, and now with my unlimited metro card, I’m eager to continue expanding the edge of my comfort zone!
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