Issuu

GLOBAL JOURNAL INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS PUBLICATION

VOL 4 ISSUE 1 SPRING 2019

Editors

Photographers

Caitriona Keane

Kyle Bianchi

Cathy Tripp

Lauren Scornavacca

Kristin Terry

Charlie Steiner

Patricia Riester

Raina Levin

Alanna Pasco

Emma Bernstein Silvia Diaz Colleen Curtis Will Lake Lauren Butler Aneri Shah Erin Coyne Jordan Massa James DeCunzo Jessie Siegler Victoria Romulo Fernanda Lopez Margaret Sweeden

Cover photo taken by Kyle Bianchi

About Global Journal

Insight to our vision

Global Journal is a Northeastern University International Affairs student-run publication, covering international news, events on campus, study abroad, as well as domestic and international co-ops. Founded in 2014 by Madlen Gubernick, Elizabeth Zona, and Yasmeen Alhaj, the student group aims to bring the international community together through experiential narratives. Because being a Northeastern student inevitably implies international interest and awareness, Global Journal encourages students of all disciplines to participate in the student group. Global Journal comprises not only international affairs students, but journalism, political science, business, health education and art students as well. We believe that as Northeastern students, we are all global citizens with vast international experience: Global Journal gives students the platform to share those experiences with the rest of the community. We hope to inspire students of all disciplines to partake in building international bridges to help promote our global experiences.

Letter from the President I am once again thrilled to present to you our newest edition of the Global Journal. This edition is a bitter-sweet one for me, as it will be my last as President of the Global Journal. The Global Journal has been such an important part of my Northeastern experience, and I cherish the years I have spent leading the Global Journal team and crafting the content of each print edition. There are so many people who have made the Global Journal possible, and I would like to take this opportunity to express my gratitude. To the College of Social Science and Humanities and the International Affairs Department, thank you for giving the Global Journal a platform to grow and thrive. Thank you to the various staff and faculty who have guided and supported the Global Journal these past years. To our wonderful Faculty Advisor, Jon Andrews, thank you for always encouraging every endeavor and idea I had and for being a source of support and guidance when it was most needed. The Global Journal could not have come this far without you. To Professor Denise Garcia, thank you for pushing me to pursue this role. Without you, I would not be writing this letter nor would I have accomplished many of the things I have at Northeastern - I am immensely grateful! To the fantastic Global Journal team â€” thank you for your tenacity and drive in making this publication possible. Mikaela and Gabriella, as our two most veteran members, I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for the Global Journal. No matter where your time at Northeastern has taken you, from Panama to Madrid, you have always made time for the Global Journal and for that I am immensely grateful. To our Head of Design, Karina, I cannot begin to fathom the hours you have put in every semester into creating these print editions. Your immense creativity and design knowledge has pushed the Global Journal to extend beyond written storytelling to include some of the most beautiful and touching examples of visual storytelling. Thank you for always meeting our impossible deadlines, and for your positivity and friendship while doing so. To our writers, you make the Global Journal into everything it is. Without you, our pages would not be filled with stories of personal reflection, struggles and growth. Thank you for sharing your story, and giving me, and our readers, a glimpse into your unique experience. Lastly, thank you to every person who has read the Global Journal; your support and passion for the Global Journal has given voice to many stories that would otherwise have never been shared. While I am sad to see this chapter of my life end, I am confident that I am leaving the Global Journal in the best possible hands. Caitriona, Alanna and Lindsay, I leave to you the responsibility and privilege of the future of the Global Journal â€” the three of you make a formidable team, and I am confident that you will take the Global Journal to incredible new heights. I wish you the best of luck! The value of global storytelling lies in the powerful way it brings individuals together despite whatever differences there may be. The Global Journal serves as an exceptional platform for this, and I wish it all the success going forward.

Sincerely,

Francesca Batault President of Global Journal

Photo by Kyle Bianchi

Meet the Team Members of the board

Francesca Batault President Politics, Philosophy & Economics Major, International Affairs, Law and Public Policy Minors From: Johannesburg, South Africa

Karina Masri Senior Art Director Graphic Design Major, International Affairs, Art History & Chinese Minors From: Southborough, MA

Gabriela Beatham-Garcia VP of Public Relations International Affairs Major, International Security Minor From: Madrid, Spain

Mikaela Cole VP of Outreach International Affairs Major, Concentration in Latin America From: Huntington Beach, CA

Lindsay Lowery Co-Editor in Chief Political Science & International Affairs Major, Concentration in Security Studies From: Minneapolis, MN

Alanna Co-Editor in Chief International Affairs Major, Computer Science Minor From: Boston, MA

Brittany Associate Designer International Affairs & Philosophy Major From: Sicklerville, NJ

Caitriona Keane Editor International Affairs and Biochemistry Major From: Suffern, NY

Kathryn Norris Associate Designer English Major From: Santa Barbara, CA

Kristin Terry Associate Designer Political Science & International Affairs Major, Concentration in Security Studies From: Johns Creek, GA

Cathy Trip Editor International Affairs Major, Cultural Anthropology Minor From: Fremont, CA

Americas Feeling Homesick at Home The Aloha State Tourists Like Me Quedarse en el chiquito

Europe Yellow Fury Amsterdamâ€™s Market-ability Pub Culture: More Than Just a Pint

Africa

Mount Kilimanjaro Reflection Poverty and Education in Kisumu Slums A New Approach to Trust Communicating Without Words: Language Barriers in the Atlas Mountains

Middle East One Day in Jerusalem Invisible Borders Yet Still Coexisting

Asia & Oceania Barefoot Philosophy The Enigmatic Russian Soul An Unexpected New Home Get Outside

11 Ecuador by Lauren Scornavacca

Ecuador by Lauren Scornavacca

Feeling Homesick at Home Story by Tori Baldassini, Co-op

When I left Boston to go to Ecuador for six

However, there were also days when I missed

months to complete my global co-op with

Boston. I have lived in the Boston area my whole

the non-profit organization, Manna Project

life, and the six month span I was in Ecuador was

International, I was filled with excitement. I

the longest I have ever gone without being near

had a lot to be excited about â€“ I was about to

my home. The transition into fall in Ecuador was

embark on a life-changing adventure in Ecuador.

particularly difficult because I missed the change

During my time there, I made several great

of season; Ecuador has a rather temperate climate,

friends, connected with a community that is very

and there were no dramatic changes between the

different from my own, improved my Spanish

summer and the fall. Looking at the calendar and

and got to travel to parts of the world I never

seeing it was October made me crave the crisp

imagined I would ever see. Even thinking back

autumn air, the changing leaves and of course, a

on these experiences now, I feel extraordinarily

pumpkin spiced coffee from Dunks.

grateful to have had the opportunity to learn and work in Ecuador.

But luckily, my feelings of homesickness never lasted long. If I started out my day feeling down,

Ecuador by Lauren Scornavacca

the excited energy of my students would almost

for an overpriced meal with my friends, I start

always cheer me back up again. And when the

craving the delicious $4 pork dish my neighbor

energy of my students got out of hand and I

used to make every Saturday. But most of all, I

started to feel overwhelmed, I could always rely

miss the people I was with everyday in Ecuador.

on my friends to lend me a helping hand; I will forever be grateful for the wonderful support network I found while living in Ecuador. That being said, I was still very excited to head back home just in time for Christmas. Now, having been back in Boston for the past two months, I am still really happy to be back. Itâ€™s been wonderful to see my family and friends here, and it was great to get to see Bostonians running through the streets because the Patriots won yet another Super Bowl championship. But now, a part of me really misses Ecuador. When I am walking to class in freezing cold temperatures, I really miss its temperate climate; when I go out

Of course, technology has made it easier than ever to connect with people who are long distances away, but nothing can replace being able to joke around with my friends or seeing my studentsâ€™ smiling faces every day. Ironically, although I proudly identify Boston as my home, I am feeling homesick here. As strange and difficult as this feeling has been for me, it has made me realize that Ecuador became my home for those six months. Although I will probably always crave Dunkin Donuts and cheer for the Patriots, Boston is not the only place that my heart can call home anymore.

Hawaii by Charlie Steiner

The Aloha State

Photo by First Last

Story by Samantha Greig, Co-op

In Hawaii, Aloha is more than just a greeting.

people closer together to create intimate bonds

Aloha is a way of life and a symbol of love and

in a short period of time. Although the mainland

acceptance that creates the beautiful island spirit.

of the United States has various groups of interest

The spirit of Aloha manifests itself in the Hawaiian

that serve the same purpose, defining these

culture in a plethora of subtle ways that breathe

groups as Ohana seems to solidify the connection

even more life into the already enthralling magic

between people, creating a more welcoming

of the islands. The Instagram-worthy views are

atmosphere. Humans, being social creatures,

not the only things that bring people back to visit

enjoy the companionship of others. Research has

year after year. The culture of Hawaii is largely

shown that having supportive relationships is an

centered on the concept of Ohana, which means

essential component of happiness and wellbeing.

family. Here, Ohana encompasses much more

This specific element of Hawaiian culture within

than just relatives; the term can be applied to

the community may be one of the reasons that

many different groups across society. This concept

Hawaii was named the happiest state in the

makes large communities feel smaller, bringing

United States in 2018.

Hawaii by Samantha Greig

I am currently in Hawaii doing my second co-op

clinic goes beyond that of a service provider

at an outpatient Physical Therapy (PT) clinic.

and recipient. Compassion and understanding

I have heard the term “Ohana” on multiple

is truly emphasized as an essential component

occasions during my short time here, but the

of creating the special Ohana bond that

concept gained a new meaning for me after a

characterizes the spirit of Aloha.

recent experience at work. The owner of the company I am working at had just discharged a patient from PT services, but told her that she would always be part of this PT Ohana. The owner then thanked the patient for allowing him to treat her. The patient was told that she was welcome to come back at any time, during any point in her life, for a free check-up. This type of pro bono work is generally unheard of in the rest of the United States because free check-ups take up valuable time that the company could instead be using to make money. The therapist-

Another way the Aloha spirit is expressed in Hawaii is the concept of “Island Time.” The easy, go-with-the-flow nature of Hawaiians, induced by never-ending sun and an abundance of pineapples, leads to this so-called “Island Time.” Although important appointments have set times, the pace of life in Hawaii is far more fluid than that of the mainland. There is less rush to complete menial tasks and if large waves are in the forecast, those take priority over anything else scheduled.

patient relationship that is emphasized at this

Tourists Like Me Story by Raina Levin, Study Abroad

“When do you cease to be a tourist?” I had

permeates the city; with no air conditioning

this conversation with a couple of friends in the

or heat, the cool dampness creeps into every

months before I left for Peru. The three of us,

crevice of every apartment. 24 hours after

who lived on the same hall our freshman year,

you’ve showered, your towel is still wet. You’re

would spend a year and a half dispersed on

never quite certain whether your clothing is

three different continents.

damp or cold, or perhaps it’s only your hands

We discussed the question — what determines your “tourist” identity? Is it the length of

that are cold. The ever-present whiteness and wetness cast an air of uncertainty over the city, although to be fair, such uncertainty is

your stay, the sites you visit, your lack of personal connections to a place? Where is the

probably reserved for tourists like me.

line between tourist and resident? Are you

I stand out here. We all do, as international

automatically a tourist if you have a return

students; Lima isn’t like Barcelona, or even

flight booked? I walked into my five-month

Buenos Aires, cities popular for intercambios

study abroad experience equipped with these

estudantiles. The ten of us on my program are

questions, and I still grapple with them now. As I

very clearly “others” in this city, as is reinforced

reflect, I revisit the words I wrote during my stay.

to us every morning when we try to enter the

“

The ever-present whiteness and wetness cast an air of uncertainty over the city, although to be fair, such uncertainty is probably reserved for tourists like me.

”

August 13, 2018, less than two weeks into my semester in Lima:

“Apparently, it doesn’t rain in the winter here. Instead, the city is painted by a persistent drizzle, a faint mist you can breathe more than see, that manifests itself as the slipperiness of the pavement beneath your feet. Humidity

university. Without IDs (we’ll receive them when we’re officially registered for classes in a couple of weeks), we can’t walk through the main entrance. Instead, we wait in line at the office for international students, where we show a copy of our passports and thank the very kind women who let us in every day. Outside of school, it’s also obvious that I’m not accustomed to life here. I’m noticeably hesitant on the buses – something I’m working on – and paranoid about my personal belongings. My phone, which on the T rests loosely in my hand as I listen to podcasts, is usually stowed in a zipped jacket pocket. If I need to consult it for a moment, I brace the edge of the iPhone against my body, my hand clenched tightly around it. Lima takes “traffic” beyond any definition I’d ever known of the word. I’m not entirely sure

Machu Picchu by Raina Levin

that there’s a real rush hour; it seems like most

November 25, 2018, four months into my

every minute would be part of it. Cars honk

semester in Peru: “I was surprised by the combi

with complete impunity here, in a very different

system here.

way than back home. In the United States, a honk serves to get another car’s attention, but here, each one is part of a very loud, city-wide conversation between cars, buses, micros, taxis and pedestrians. The streets ring with a disharmonious chorus of inescapable beeps, so ingrained in the fabric of the city that any quiet moment seems surreal.”

They take some getting used to — these old, discarded vans purchased from other countries, vans that weave through traffic with a cobrador shouting their destinations from the side door. It’s funny, in Cusco, when we arrived, we were picked up from the airport by a large white tourist van. As we loaded in, we compared our

Photo by First Last

Machu Picchu by Raina Levin

fancy van to a combi. In a second, we were all

here — there’s no way we would’ve been able

off, shouting our best imitation of our beloved

to do that a couple of months ago.”

Lima combis, using the street names closest to us. Marina, La Marina, todo “La Marina!” Javier Prado! Benavides! “Todo Benavides!” It was spontaneous, unplanned and uproarious. It hit us all in that moment how we’ve adapted to life

As I reflect on these seemingly disjointed memories, I wonder: did I stop being a tourist then? Did I cross the tourist/temporary resident line when I felt comfortable in Lima, when I could recite street names at will, when I didn’t need

to check my phone for a bus route? I think it’s

while sauntering onwards, while drinking from

ironic that this moment took place in Cusco, an

a disposable water bottle. I could tell myself

expensive city many Peruvians are never able to

I’m not part of the problem as I throw my trash

visit. It is home to one of the most visited tourist

away in the proper receptacle, trying to keep

attractions in the world: Machu Picchu.

my conscious clear.

Before going to Cusco, I had a sort of haughty

But that trash isn’t there because of a couple of

attitude about it. I waited a long time to go —

inconsiderate tourists; it would be much easier if

it just wasn’t my priority. I was different from

it were. No, the trash is there because there are

the other tourists, who treat Lima as an airport

so many of us — thousands per day — all coming

gateway rather than a city; I lived and studied

to visit the same place. And I, among them.

there, afterall. I was dedicated to seeing all of Peru, not just trapezing through Machu Picchu, or following the “gringo trail,” as a man in my hostel called it. I was traveling the right way, meeting real people and speaking their language.

“

My pride evaporated with the early morning fog that shrouds Machu Picchu.

Balancing guilt and responsibility as a tourist is complicated. It’s why, when you see trash along hiking trails, you pick it up. It’s why, even when it’s muddy, you stick to the trail, preserving the flora that borders the path. You take each footstep up the mountain knowing that you are causing irreparable environmental harm. But you also contribute. You pay the institution that runs the tour. You tip the guide, who is good

”

at his job and deserves to be told as much, in words and soles. You go to restaurants, to bodegas. You stay at a family-owned hostel and

My pride evaporated with the early morning

converse with the staff. In the small cities, they

fog that shrouds Machu Picchu. Golden hour

ask you to tell your friends about the place, to

rays of light graced the verdant mountains,

spread the word and attract more tourists. You

the casual llamas, the 500-year-old ruins, and

promise you will.

I intently wished I’d scheduled more time for myself in Cusco - more time amongst the ruins and the crowds.

Two months removed from my study abroad experience — my long-term tourist experience, as you could call it — I’m still working on it.

Just beyond Machu Picchu, a mountain of trash

I keep trying to find a line in the sand, some

grows. In 2016, 14 tons of trash accumulated

clear-cut way to cause more benefit than harm

each day in the surrounding area. No one

to the communities I visit. I haven’t found it

wants this; no one relishes in the transformation

yet. If you have any suggestions, please let this

of a sacred city into a dumping ground. It’s

perpetual tourist know.

easy to imagine a select group of tourists — a camera-wielding, conniving, littering band — as responsible for the trash; it’d be all too easy to vilify them. I could disparage these people

Colonia by Emma Bernstein

Quedarse En El Chiquito Story by Emma Bernstein, Dialogue

Uruguay is Argentinaâ€™s hermanito to the north,

to as Argentinaâ€™s little brother. When I heard

colloquially referred to as the Switzerland of

that a week of my dialogue would be spent

South America. Both Argentina and Uruguay

in Uruguay, I had absolutely no expectations

have a heavy European influence due to a high

of this small South American country. In fact,

volume of early European immigration, but the

nobody in the group had any expectations at

countries have their own unique identities, and

all, which I came to realize was one of the best

Uruguayans would be offended to be referred

aspects of our trip to Uruguay.

After spending three weeks in the chilly, bustling

del Sacramento, or Colonia for short. Being in

city of Buenos Aires, everyone was feeling worn

Colonia felt like we were transported back in

down and over-stimulated. We boarded the ferry

time to colonial days. The historic district was

in Puerto Madero, Buenos Aires’s shiny port

impeccably preserved, and was reminiscent

district of skyscrapers with reflective windowed

of old Portugal. The buildings were pastel and

facades and upscale parillas. After a two-hour

terracotta stucco, with palm trees and sea views

ferry ride, we arrived in grey, rainy Montevideo.

within walking distance on all sides. There was

The first day in Montevideo was a blur of

an indescribable feeling that we all experienced,

tour buses and historic information, clouded

but everyone was very at peace while we stayed

in a gloomy drizzle. We passed mate drinker

in Colonia. Every night we would go down to the

after mate drinker, sitting on park benches

waterfront with a bottle of malbec to watch the

with their cups and thermoses, sipping from

most incredible sunsets I’ve seen in my life. For

metal bombillas that are designed for drinking

me, there was absolutely nothing to complain

mate. Mate is the unofficial national drink of

about in Colonia.

Argentina and Uruguay, and once you drink it, it is clear why it’s so popular. It tastes like an extremely bitter green tea, but the caffeine hit is completely unlike coffee and is very enjoyable.

“

Being in Colonia felt like we were transported back in time to colonial days. The historic district was impeccably preserved, and was reminiscent of old Portugal.

”

In Uruguay, we spent a couple days in the capital city of Montevideo which had a

surprisingly relaxed, slow vibe for a capital city. Nobody ever seemed to be in a rush for any reason, which was a welcome change of pace after being in hectic, crowded Buenos Aires for three weeks. From Montevideo, we travelled to my favorite place I have ever been to: Colonia

My favorite day of the entire dialogue was our free day in Colonia. The most popular mode of transportation there was golf carts, so we went to the rental shop and rented an old-fashioned buggy for the day. We drove all around the peninsula during the most beautiful sunny day. When we got hungry, we decided to stop at a restaurant right on the waterfront to order Uruguay’s national dish, chevito. Chevito is a literal pile of meat, cheese, french fries and eggs, and was one of the most delicious meals I have ever had. Paired with a view of the sparkling water, a glass of malbec, warm sun and good friends, I was at my happiest in that moment. I think what I love the most about Uruguay is that it is truly a hidden gem. Nobody knows how magical Uruguay is unless they have been there and experienced it. Even Anthony Bourdain agreed that it was one of his favorite countries on Earth. However, I hope that people do not flock to Uruguay as a tourist destination, because that would ruin the vibe that local Uruguayans have created.

23 Paris by Silvia Diaz

Paris by Silvia Diaz

Yellow Fury Story by Gabriela Beatham-Garcia, Study Abroad

We all have romantic visions of studies abroad;

By some sort of miracle, I managed to secure

meeting interesting people, eating exotic cuisine

an apartment in the first arrondissement, right

and traveling where maps and GPS’s are stumped.

in the center of Paris. I was eight minutes from

I had a similar vision of what my semester in Paris

the Louvre, three from the Musée de l’Orangerie

would be like: four months of crêpes, croissants,

and a mere 25 to my university, Sciences Po.

cathedrals, Courbets and saunters along the

I did my best to speak in French and ask for local

Seine. Paris is the epitome of picturesque, and its

tips and recommendations. I was lucky in so

privileged status in the areas of fashion, cuisine,

many ways, and it became easy to lose myself in

art and culture are rivaled by few.

the many pastry shops, cafés and museums. And

Paris by Silvia Diaz

that was how the story went for the first three

could hear the scuffles and see the smoke from

months.

our windows. But it was the next weekend that

November came and I went on a trip to

things really took a turn for the worse.

Normandy and Bretagne with an Erasmus travel

Instead of watching it on TV, I was leaning out

group. We were delayed both leaving and

of my window, witnessing protestors set fire

returning by boisterous crowds wearing yellow

to the streets, burn cars and break into stores.

vests who were blocking the roads and choosing

I was trapped in my apartment with tear gas

who may pass. At that moment, I didnâ€™t know

seeping in through the windows. Suddenly, my

much about who they were or what they wanted.

well-situated flat morphed into the complete

Frankly, I was mostly annoyed at the delays these

opposite of an ideal location. As a student of

groups were causing us. The next Saturday,

International Affairs and International Security,

however, they swarmed the streets of Paris. I

it was fascinating to witness these historical

hosted a Friendsgiving at my apartment and we

moments, filled with passion and fueled by

Paris by Silvia Diaz

outrage. I was, in the very meaning of the

Unfortunately, it only takes a few to spark

phrase, living history. However, as a 20-year-old

violence, and throughout the many Saturdays it

woman, it was frightening. Despite trying to

became increasingly harder to concentrate on

avoid it, those images and experiences changed

the core message of the self-proclaimed Yellow

how I navigated Paris the last few weeks.

Jackets, or â€œGilets Jaunes.â€? It altered the course

This movement projected a very powerful message, but one that was at many times

of the end of my study abroad, and I found myself eager to leave when exams ended.

corrupted by acts of violence. The movement

Even though this series of events was in some

grew and grew, even spreading to other

ways so shocking to me, it helped to remind

countries throughout the European Union,

me that I am not immune to domestic politics

countries plagued with similar problems and

when I embark on these idealistic adventures.

who were quick to latch onto the momentum.

They give us insight into how different peoples

This exemplifies the relatability of the struggles

address discontent and express frustration, while

they express and the reason why it became

simultaneously teaching us about the current

impossible for the government to ignore.

social, political, and economic environment of

Paris by Silvia Diaz

a country. Learning this is the authentic lesson

In many ways, I seem to be chasing protests

of studying abroad, and the process involves

and social unrest. I went straight from the

rolling up your sleeves to take part in both the

Yellow Jacket, fury-filled streets of Paris to the

pretty and the ugly. In the moment, it is hard

frenzy of Brexit in London. I don’t know if you

“

I am not immune to domestic politics when I embark on these idealistic adventures.

”

could characterize the decision as reckless or purposeful; it may be a bit of both. But the complexities of these issues are many times overlooked by foreigners, or cherry-picked by news sources. I continue to try to gain a deep and multidimensional understanding of them through my daily, experiential “history classes,” but I know that I have only begun to scratch the surface.

to understand all of these things, but reflection helped me to appreciate every event that

contributed to my understanding of the French people, culture and current social climate.

Amsterdam by Charlie Steiner

Amsterdam’s Market-ability Story by Lindsay Lowery, Study Abroad

The lure of class-free days with no

The market culture is as embedded in

responsibilities is exemplified in students’

Amsterdam as its canals. Big and small,

love for Fridays. In Amsterdam with no Friday

niche and varied, they are found in every

classes, I had the whole city at the feet. My only

neighborhood. The Albert Cuyp Market is

limits were the money on my metro card or my

possibly Amsterdam’s most famous market,

exhaustion from biking. Fridays quickly became

especially for tourists. Cradled in the De Pijp

my market day, as I ventured throughout and

neighborhood, it features daily selections of

outside the city, becoming wonderfully lost in

fruit, cheese, vegetables and knick knacks like

the aisles of stalls.

watches and clothes. Its marketability has left

it brimming with tourists, but catering to them

I gorged myself on the abundant cheese

has cost it some of its feeling of authenticity.

samples, but always came back to my favorite

Other markets include the monthly goods

stall and type (30+ Belegen). Light and soft, this

market in Museumplein against the backdrop of

cheese was perfect for slicing, shredding and

the Rijksmuseum; the Bloemenmarkt, a flower

eating straight. I wandered the aisles, trying to

market in the city center; Nieuwmarkt, for

learn Dutch by matching foods I knew to the

which an entire metro stop is dedicated; and a

displayed Dutch words. Thoughts of “when will

smattering of other food, antique, clothes and

you get to do this again?” rang in my head, and

art markets that flourish along the city’s streets

I frequently treated myself to ripe strawberries

and canals.

or freshly-baked muffins.

The smell of stroopwafels waft through the air in many Dutch markets. These wafer-thin waffles are traditionally sliced in half and filled with caramel syrup. They can be dressed up with Nutella chocolate or sprinkles, but I think it’s best to stick to the tried and true. Cheese, another Dutch staple, is found in every market. It must be due to the abundance of farms that dot

“

Its marketability has left it brimming with tourists, but catering to them has cost it some of its feeling of authenticity.

”

the countryside just outside Amsterdam’s limits. Poffertjes, mini Dutch pancakes, are dusted

“When will you get to do this again?” This

with powdered sugar. Other assorted foods are

question drove many of my decisions abroad from

colorfully displayed with enveloping aromas and

start to end. Previously, I had rushed through

inviting prices.

grocery stores, grabbing what I needed from

My local market gave me the picturesque Dutch lifestyle I dreamed of before going abroad. Each Friday, I rode my bike even farther outside the city. My path wound along quiet canals lined with old, small houses that each seemed uniquely sculpted. Just ten minutes away and nestled in the open courtyard of a surrounding mall was the Stadshart market. Here, they

shelves with a few impulse buys. In Amsterdam, I tried to appreciate basic opportunities more. I slowed down and truly enjoyed food shopping, intentionally treating myself instead of impulse buying. Luckily, I now still don’t have class on Fridays. While I may no longer be biking to get my cheese from a local farmer, I walk to get my groceries from grocery stores.

greeted me in Dutch, not English. I knew I had

The peace I found while abroad and exploring

escaped the confines of touristy markets and

markets lingers. I found another place and

found a true Dutch market. It contained almost

routine to call home, and it made me hungry for

anything you could imagine: mattresses, fruit,

my next adventure — and a stroopwafel.

purses, meat, handmade cards and jewelry, seafood, the list could go on. As time went on, this became my weekly retreat where I relished my Friday market day.

Pub Culture: More Than Just a Pint Story by Erin Cutroneo, NU.in

I am of the NU.in legacy: a newly accepted

their own. In Ireland, I had conversations with

freshman who elected to go abroad their first

strangers sitting next to me about everything

semester of college instead of jumping straight

from my struggles adjusting to the Irish weather,

into the “typical” college experience. I chose to

to their experiences with the housing crisis and

go to Dublin, Ireland mainly because my name is

our thoughts on the current state of democracy.

Erin, which literally translates as “Ireland.”

Never in these conversations did I feel any sort

Within my first week in Ireland, I found myself transported to the sparkly student accommodations that juxtaposed the traditional working class “Liberties” neighborhood of Dublin that it was located in — one which I soon learned was populated by “feral children,” as one of my professors called them: young people who enjoyed shooting off fireworks at the sky, passing cars, and even each other. Just across the street from where one of these children tased my group leader the first week, I found my local Pub: Arthur’s. My first evening in Dublin, I sat in the midst of a group of Irish people having a good time and socializing in an easy, open, and honest way: “having the Craic”, as the locals call it. While I would initially stick to hovering next to my four-day-old friend — someone who would soon become my pub buddy throughout the rest of the semester — it was almost too easy, too natural to just loosen up and talk to the people sitting next to me, or even the bartenders when they had a break between waiting for your pint of Guinness to settle, before filling it the rest of the way up. As I began to explore the other pubs in my area, I found something you don’t find very often in the United States: people who were genuinely open to points of view and ideas different from

of animosity or judgement for my thoughts or feelings. There were no factions, no sides and anyone could speak to everyone and feel, if not understood, at the very least respected.

“

Given the typical dreary and rainy Irish weather, the Irish people created a place of welcoming and gathering for themselves.

”

A couple months into my stay, I began to

wonder: “Why are Irish bars called pubs?” The answer was both simple and telling: “Pub” is short for “Public House.” Given the typical dreary and rainy Irish weather, the Irish people created a place of welcoming and gathering for themselves. These pubs represent the undeniable community that exists in Irish culture. Under a rarely blue sky that almost constantly threatened dreary weather, the Irish people displayed a character that exactly

contradicted the miserable skies that hung over their city. Through centuries of oppression and discrimination under colonial rule, the Irish have made one thing their strength: their

Ireland by Colleen Curtis

sense of togetherness. The Irish pub is the

losing so much of and still struggling to recover

physical manifestation of that, representing Irish

the lives lost during the Great Famine to the

resilience through unity.

fight for national independence from British

Despite being a somewhat isolated island nation, I found the Irish to be much more accepting of people from all walks of life than many people I have met in the United States. Through all the hardship they have faced, from

rule, the Irish still hold fast to their core values of fairness, warmth and generosity. It is those very traits that are represented in the form and function of the pub: refuge from stormy weather, acceptance for all, and above all, a place to have the Craic â€” a true place for the public.

33 Lion Cub by Will Lake

Photo by Erin Burba Mount Kilimanjaro by Lauren Butler

Mount Kilimanjaro Reflection Story by Tova Lenchner, Personal Reflection

Every morning, 80-some odd people summit Mount Kilimanjaro; on the morning of July 19, 2017 at about 7:08 a.m., I was one of them. When I tell people this, they are impressed, but to be honest, this was one of the easiest accomplishments of my life. Six months earlier, when I told my father that we should climb Mount Kilimanjaro, he didnâ€™t quite realize I was joking. With most travel

plans, I donâ€™t fully grasp the ensuing change until I actually arrive, but when my father signed us up for the climb it felt all too real. Although his decision seemed alarmingly abrupt, it was actually the culmination of nearly a year of change. By May 2016, my father had already approached us about our thoughts on moving to Kenya. My upcoming first year of college

“

She said, “Do it afraid: just take it one step at a time.” And that’s just what I did.”

other news: breast cancer. Treatment needed to start immediately and these treatments were only readily available in the United States. My dad was locked into a contract and had no choice but to

”

included some traveling plans, so I felt that I

was in no place to deny him of this opportunity. He spent some time visiting and establishing a

new lifestyle, anxiously waiting for us to join him during the following summer. But my mom had

put his faith in his three daughters for the next year. Suddenly, the roles were flipped: it was our time to pay mom back for all that she had done for us as children, and take care of her. Luckily, I had the perfect coping strategy — although it is not always 100% effective: I ran. I’m no marathoner, but I found that an hour on the road reminds me to “look where my feet

are.” My mother always presented me with this metaphor when I felt that some challenge was too great for me to face. This expression reminds me that worrying has no benefit, and that in the current moment, everything is alright. My father had always been a thrill seeker, but he would choose rock climbing or running a race over skydiving, and justified this by explaining that he finds more thrill and accomplishment in doing something by the power of his own strength. I experienced this same thing every time I ran. Unbeknownst to me, this running would also become the perfect training strategy for Kilimanjaro.

“

It was easy in the beginning. We strolled through the forest taking pictures with the lush flora and trying to capture video clips of the animals we saw, or at least heard. We would stop for snacks and tea and to play yard games taught to us by our Kenyan friends. But halfway through, the trek started to become much more difficult. The ecosystem drastically switched to look like some movie set on Mars, with intermittent patches of Dr. Seuss-esque mystery plants and formations. It was cold, we couldn’t shower, the food was gross, and then people started getting sick; but we had to keep

We made it to the crest of the summit ridge. I cried just watching the pure beauty of the sunrise come over the uninterrupted horizon.

”

Although I say this accomplishment was easy,

that doesn’t mean it came without its dose of

mental breakdowns. After 10 hours cramped in a van venturing to a town placed in the foothills of Kilimanjaro, we checked into our hotel — one that distinctly smelled of humidity and played host to some questionable half-dead bugs in the hallway. Suddenly, the immensity of everything I was about to do seemed to hit me all at once, uncontrollably, leaving me to cry in my mother’s arms. I clung to her as she tried to leave and say goodbye like a child on her first day of kindergarten. She said, “Do it afraid: just take it

one step at a time.” And that’s just what I did.

going, one step at a time. Then came the night of the summit: we woke up at 11:30 p.m. to begin our journey. The guides and porters say they do this because that is when the snow is the most compact, but I believe it’s actually because we were under the cover of dark, and in the darkness you can’t see what you’re in for - you can’t see how steep it is, you can’t see how much longer you have to go, you can’t see what you’re getting yourself into. But we kept going, and then came my second breakdown; I think this one was prompted — at least in part — by the lack of oxygen. In a very emotionally delusional state, we made it to the crest of the summit ridge. I cried just watching the pure beauty of the sunrise come over the uninterrupted horizon. But, we had to keep going, one step at a time. We watched as people skipped down the mountain, relishing in the oxygen-filled air closer to the mountain’s base, and I remember being slightly annoyed as I continued to trek upwards. But on our way back down we did the exact same thing, nearly running down the mountain as the oxygen returned to the air, running almost as if to say

Tanzania by Jordan Massa

Mount Kilimanjaro by Lauren Butler

“Get me off this mountain as fast as you can!”

I say that this is the easiest accomplishment

My third and final emotional breakdown came

of my life, not because it came without its

in the back of a van two days later on our way

unique hardships, but because in this state

back home. This one was by far the strangest to

you can only think of one thing. You can’t

me, because this time the challenge was over,

think of that drama with your friends, of the

but it felt as though I was leaving something

homework you have to do, or even about trying

behind — almost as if I were leaving an old

to look presentable to impress anyone. On the

friend who had tried to duel me in a wrestling

mountain, there was no one and no ego; just

match, but would have to do better next time.

the one goal of surviving.

Poverty and Education in Kisumu Slums Story by Madeleine Hahn-Smith, Co-op

Karibu Kenya! “Karibu” - meaning welcome, is one of the first Kiswahili words I learned when I arrived in Kisumu and is a central theme of this community and its culture. Each new person I met welcomed me into their home — offering food, tea, and conversation. These conversations often became lessons for the challenges facing the communities here and what local people are doing to address these problems. When people think of Africa, images of poverty, violence, and disease shown on the news come to mind. It seems that very rarely do we hear about the amazing positive changes that locals were affecting in their

to send their children to school. Korando was created to address these challenges by providing completely free education to kids whose families cannot afford the associated costs. Korando fills a significant gap in the Kenyan education system, reaching kids that would otherwise have no opportunity to learn basic skills like reading, writing, and mathematics.

“

My time in Kisumu has not only changed my perspective, but continues to inspire me every day.

”

own community. My time in Kisumu has not only changed my perspective, but continues to

I have been so struck by the excitement that

inspire me every day.

the children here at Korando. They often wake

For my third co-op, I am working with Better Me Kenya and the Korando Educational Centre to assist with their efforts to lift up the Kisumu community through education, accessible healthcare, and additional psycho-social support. Korando was first started in 2006 by a retired school teacher affectionately known as Mama Dolfine who started caring for orphans in her community and eventually opened her own informal school to care for and provide education to orphans and vulnerable children in her community. Though primary education is officially free in Kenya, in reality there are admission charges, uniform and school supply costs, and other expenses that make it difficult for many families

up as early as 4:30am and are working and learning until 6:30 pm. After that they are piled with homework. Despite these incredibly busy schedules I have never child complain about going to school. A 2018 study by the Kenyan Ministry of Education estimates that over 850,000 children between 6 and 17 years of age are currently out of school. I believe that the kids at Korando recognize that many of their peers still cannot attend and they are happy to be here. About 13 kilometers (8 miles) from Korando is Nyalenda, a slum settlement on the outskirts of Kisumu near Lake Victoria. Here, HIV affects most residents either directly or indirectly and many survive without reliable income,

Photo by Aneri Shah

oftentimes making less than 200 Ksh ($2 USD)

This mobile library gives kids who cannot attend

per day. With such a small income, it is a

school the chance to read and learn. On some

struggle for families to afford to put food on

days kids who do attend school are able to join

the table and pay for basic necessities. Parents

us, allowing for peer learning to occur. This is

want their children to attend school, but it is not

in no way a permanent solution to the issue but

economically viable.

Irene has done a good job of addressing the

Irene Onoka, an entrepreneur who grew up in Nyalenda, is well-versed in the challenges facing

problem and giving kids some opportunity to still use their brains and practice their literacy.

its residents. She works to address some of

Paul (nicknamed Pablo), is one of the children

these problems and help the families bring their

in a difficult situation that is being supported by

children back to school. For the past 4 years she

Irene. His parents took off when he was a baby

has taken money out of her own pocket to run a

and he lives in Nyalend with his grandmother in

mobile library for the kids in this situation.

Nyalenda. She does her best to make

Kenya by Aneri Shah

everything work but her age makes it difficult.

gathered a group of women together to start a

Pablo attended school for several years but

cooperative and we are currently in the process of

because of the cost of school fees he dropped

opening a bakery, which will help generate some

out in 2017 and hasnâ€™t been able to go back.

income. Hopefully, women will be able to use this

Luckily Irene and her acquaintances are working

income to pay for their childrenâ€™s education. One

to support Paul through school sponsorship

woman I met has seven kids and her husband

fundraising and can We hope to raise sufficient

is unemployed. She works long hours doing

funds in the next few weeks and get him back to

domestic work such as washing to put food on the

his learning soon

table. This cooperative will give a more reliable

Irene has now decided to take her efforts to the next level by starting a community-based

source of income that will hopefully soon be enough to help her send her kids to school.

organization (CBO), which just received official

This organization is still in its early stages and

government approval last month. This CBO has

we have a long way to go before the bakery is

Kenya by Aneri Shah

operational and making a profit. For me it has

We also hope that once the bakery is established,

been an incredible opportunity to learn from

we can start a chama. A chama isan informal

the local community members. With some

micro-savings group where women can pool their

funding and a lot of hard work, I believe this

money together and take loans from each other

bakery could be an incredible opportunity to

as an investment in income-generating activities.

improve the entire community. Irene envisions a

Irene also hopes to build a more permanent

ripple effect occurring, so that the women in the

community center nearby that will serve as a more

cooperative will learn entrepreneurial skills such

permanent replacement to the mobile library.

as bookkeeping and then will be able to take that

Iâ€™m so excited to continue to learn from these

knowledge and start their own small businesses or

incredible entrepreneurs throughout the rest of

expand the bakery further. As women move up or

my coop. Kenya truly has some incredible people

out of the organization, more women can come in

doing incredible work and I feel very lucky to have

and get training.

this opportunity.

Tanzania by Erin Coyne

A New Approach to Trust Story by Erin Burba, Co-op

When I decided to move to Tanzania for my

English-speaking countries, and my trips to

second co-op, I had very little foundation for

more unfamiliar places were always heavily

and understanding of what was ahead. I knew

structured and accompanied with school

next to nothing about the country. My new

support. I was finally hitting a stride with

boss couldnâ€™t tell me exactly what kind of

my social life and mental health, and I was

projects I would be working on, and he was

terrified that neither would survive such an

honest in telling me about the challenges of

interruption as half a year on the other side

operating in Tanzaniaâ€™s solar energy market.

of the world. Still, I recognized that the co-op

My solo travels had all been to Western,

with Sikubora was an amazing opportunity,

and I hated the idea that I would allow fear of

on conveniently aggregated, straightforward

the unknown to dictate my life and limit my

evidence. It was not a perfect method. Some

experience based on my perception of safety.

situations looked riskier in hindsight than

The bravery/FOMO got the best of me, and I

previously assessed. But we accomplished so

moved to Tanzania where I would live for the

much more than we would have if we only acted

next seven months.

on obvious foundations and straightforward

When Sikubora approaches people interested in

paths. Trust empowered us to try.

purchasing a solar energy system for their home,

The credit approval process at Sikubora

it is assumed that this will be the first formal

was designed to compile these scattered

loan of the customer’s life. The scarcity of formal

pieces of evidence in favor of the customer’s

financial institutions and generally informal, piece

responsibility and financial activity into a real

meal nature of employment in Tanzania led

foundation for loan eligibility. Completing the

many people to have little to no documentation

credit application with a Sikubora employee

of their financial activity. In traditional financial

establishes our relationship with the customer

institutions, a person with no formal bank account

as one built on honesty and trust: if they

and no proof of employment would almost

can provide accurate personal information,

definitely be denied the opportunity for a loan.

we can work to create mutually beneficial

And yet, Sikubora routinely grants multi-hundred

opportunities. Piecework, farming, self-

dollar loans to this population.

employment and the endorsement of local

“

We accomplished so much more than we would have if we only acted on obvious foundations and straightforward paths. Trust empowered us to try.

”

leaders are respected and recognized with similar weight to formal employment and banking. System shut-offs and loan defaults are not automatic, but rather something we avoid through compassionate displays of moderate leniency and active customer relations. We found that once we identified a customer as responsible and trustworthy, and recognized that with a loan, the customer works hard to maintain that identity and adhere to the terms of repayment.

This year, I’ve run into many personal and

Starting my co-op at Sikubora, I was tasked

professional situations where the foundation

with familiarizing myself with the company’s

for taking the next step was anywhere from

resource tracking software and enhancing it

minimal to unstable. I acted with a less-than-

with new reports and utilities. It took some time

confident degree of certainty. At Sikubora, my

to become familiar with the tech stack, but I

boss, my coworkers and I pooled small and

learned what was required to be competent

scattered pieces of evidence in favor of people’s

in my position. I listened to my coworkers in

abilities and trusted that they could produce an

the all-company meetings and started working

outcome that was comparable to one founded

with them to identify and alleviate pain points

Ngorongoro Crater by Jordan Massa

“

I don’t know what my life would be like if I never let myself act with less than complete confidence.

me non-technical tasks, like working on the financial model and writing funding proposals. This experience of doing my co-op in Tanzania has already had an immense impact on how I think about my life, approach my goals,

”

in their work. A few months into the co-op, I designed and built a complete inventory

tracking system. Then, my boss started giving

and address challenges. At the root of each change is my new approach to trust. Despite the demands of my classes and the anxiety of securing my final co-op, I have found myself more relaxed, more resilient to adversity and stronger in standing up to my fears and avoidant tendencies. I can recognize that I’ve

Ngorongoro Crater by Jordan Massa

made it through every challenge up to this

or at least still in Kentucky. I definitely

point, and with that, I can trust myself to find

wouldn’t have moved to Tanzania, nor would

a way through the next round. I’ve started

I be applying for co-op positions that I feel

focusing more on my habits and default

are a reach for my skills and experience. If the

systems than on my goals, finally able to trust

folks at Sikubora never took a risk on granting

the compounding effects rather than worry

someone a loan for a solar energy system, a lot

about immediate results. My willingness to trust

of responsible, hard-working Tanzanians still

others — personally, professionally, emotionally

wouldn’t have reliable electricity in their homes.

— has a much more liberal foundation.

I don’t know what the future holds. But in the

I don’t know what my life would be like if I never let myself act with less than complete

present, I can act in a way that validates the efforts of my past self with trust in my future self.

confidence. I might still be in my hometown,

High Atlas Mountains by James DeCunzo

Communicating Without Words: Language Barriers in the Atlas Mountains Story by Aspen Schneider, Dialogue

Communication became the greatest comfort

of Morocco in which we spent time, such

when traveling with a group of unknown

communication was completely impossible.

classmates to a continent that I had never

The villages within the High Atlas Mountains

been and immersing in a culture and religion

are isolated from the modernized world, with

vastly different than my own. To be able to

very little interaction with any other place.

ask my professor questions, to discuss new

A sink with running water and a very old

ideas and experiences amongst peers and

television were among the most advanced

to converse with my host family about the

technology to be seen. Within an isolated way

different lifestyles we live all helped immensely

of life, also came a more isolated language.

in feeling comfortable in Morocco and gaining

The villagers within the area spoke only

understanding of the country.

Amazigh, a very old dialect, which is not

Within the High Atlas Mountains, however, a mountain range within the Northern area

commonly used. Suddenly, the ability to communicate with others and the connection

High Atlas Mountains by James DeCunzo

that provided assistance in a foreign land no

What resulted from this lack of verbal

longer existed.

communication was a much greater appreciation

The families of the High Atlas Mountains live simply, and are self-reliant for all of their needs. The mothers create the clothing that is worn, the fathers kill the animals that are eaten. Us students, when staying within the mountains, were tasked with helping the families complete their necessary tasks. Such tasks included bringing cattle to water sources, pulling weeds from the ground and cutting plants to bring home. Although such tasks may seem easy at first consideration, they become much more difficult when there is no common language for the person guiding you to explain the tasks at hand or provide assistance in the best methods to complete the assignments.

for non-verbal communication. The ability to point in different directions or at different paths, to demonstrate how to hold the weeds properly before pulling, to shake a finger when something was incorrect all proved helpful. Even more so, the warmth that a smile can bring and the reassurance provided from a clap of the hands were proven more so than ever before. The ability for different people, of very different lifestyles and backgrounds with almost nothing in common, to connect through the most fundamental cues was astounding. It served as a reminder that regardless of the many differences that exist amongst countries, amongst groups, and amongst people, we are all linked in some way. There is always a way to cooperate, to share a moment, to show kindness.

Lebanon by Karina Masri

Israel by Jessie Siegler

One Day in Jerusalem Story by Jessie Siegler, Co-op

One day, during my co-op in Israel last spring, a

thus considered extremely holy along with

friend and I decided to take a trip to one of the

the Mount’s Western retaining wall, known as

most contested pieces of land in the world. The

the Western Wall or Kotel. The Mount is also

place: the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, which

the site of the Dome of the Rock and Al-Aqsa

many of my friends in Tel Aviv refused to visit

Mosque, two of Islam’s holiest sites. The Dome,

because of the security issues and conflict which

constructed in the late 7th century, is one of the

surrounds it. The Temple Mount is contested in

most iconic buildings in history and is perhaps

large part due to the same reason Jerusalem is

the most famous image of Jerusalem as a whole.

contested — its holiness to multiple religions. Its name comes from the the site of the ancient Jewish temples which stood there, and it is

I was nervous to navigate the complexity of Jerusalem’s Old City for the first time without a

tour guide. It was a sunny day and I was hot in

visitors to the Wall. We then queued up with

my long clothing, anticipating the conservative

the large group of people waiting to enter the

dress code required for women to visit the

Mount during its very limited visiting hours, many

Mount. I used Google Maps to navigate from the

of whom appeared to be American Christians.

new city to the old by walking. There are many

After waiting in line and passing through another

gates that you can use to enter the four quarters

round of security, we were allowed to enter the

of the old city (Christian, Jewish, Muslim and

wooden walkway which passes over the Wall and

Armenian), some of which are more commonly

opens onto the Mount. At the top of the walkway,

frequented by tourists than others. Each quarter

Muslim security (administered by Jordanians)

and neighborhood in the city is different from the

evaluated the appropriateness of our attire.

next. I knew I wanted to enter into the Jewish

I wore long pants and a large scarf wrapped

Quarter through the gate that I was familiar with,

around my waist and was let through without a

the Zion Gate. Thus, I then navigated from there

problem, while my friend (male, in shorts) was

to the Mount.

made to wear a turquoise skirt to cover his knees.

“

After passing through all the layers of security, the nervousness I had been feeling dissipated and I could appreciate the beauty of the Mount.

After passing through all the layers of security, the nervousness I had been feeling dissipated and I could appreciate the beauty of the Mount. Despite being a place of tension and conflict, it felt very quiet and peaceful, largely due to the fact that it was full of people going to pray. The Mount is a large, open plaza, with trees planted around it. The most stunning part is the

”

Dome, and while I was not allowed inside (as a non-Muslim), admiring it from the outside was amazing in itself. After taking many photos, we

On the way to the gate, while walking along a

were told that it was time for visitors to leave,

beautiful park near the old city wall, Google Maps

and we were ushered out through a different

showed us crossing a dotted line referred to as

gate on the western side. As we were heading

the “1949 Armistice Agreement Line.” We saw no

towards the gate, two Orthodox Jewish men

physical reality corresponding to the line — the

tried to enter the gate and prostrate themselves

sidewalk continued forward, uninterrupted by

before the Mount. Just a few feet in front of me,

any geopolitical burdens. We then reached the

a group of guards slowly walked the men back,

Zion Gate, where physical evidence of conflict -

keeping them outside the gate. Jewish worship

namely, dozens of bullet holes in the stone from

is not allowed on the Mount, and neither are

the Six-Day War — could actually be seen. Next,

Jewish symbols of any kind. I had made sure not

we headed through the Jewish Quarter toward

to wear any, and my friend had left his yarmulke

the Western Wall plaza, where we would access

at home. The sense of peacefulness I had felt was

the Mount. Descending the stone stairs to the

broken, though I knew it was false to begin with.

plaza, we first passed through security with other

Photo by Olivia Sorenson

Invisible Borders Yet Still Coexisting Story by Danielle Murad Waiss, Co-op

The smell of a bonfire surrounds me. Behind me

they have bonfires and are cooking an evening

are the beaches of Tel Aviv and in the evening

meal. I no longer hear the Hebrew that usually

sun, the sky is painted many oranges and pinks.

surrounds me. I hear Arabic instead. I do not

As I move forward, I leave behind the tourists,

understand what they are saying, but as I walk,

the Tel Aviv fitness freaks and the strolling

some people stare at me, sometimes yelling

couples. As I cross into the last beach before

something at me in Arabic, sometimes winking

the port it feels like I am in a different country.

and sometimes just looking. Perhaps it is

The long, paved boardwalk that contours the

because of the riots that recently took place in

beaches of the Mediterranean Sea in Tel Aviv

Jaffa, or because I am alone and it is beginning

is the same, the walking and bike paths extend

to get dark, but I am a little nervous. I press on

all the way to the port, but the only grassy

walking straight ahead.

beach in the city, seems to mark a big change. Multiple families are arriving at the beach,

The strip of Bauhaus buildings that line the beaches in Tel Aviv have disappeared.

I carry on, the view of the ancient white stone

I come by a beautiful sweets shop, with all kinds

buildings and the narrow clock tower also in

of treats displayed. It seems to be a popular

white are inviting me forward. I eventually make

location. As I pass the shop I find myself in a

it to the port. A narrow stone barrier lines the

different environment. The buildings here are

water. I can hear a mix of languages including

no longer made out of white stone. I can hear

English, Russian, Spanish and Arabic. There is

music, chatter and a big crowd. I have found

a musician and people watching. I am at ease

the Shuk Hapishpishim or flea market. I can no

once again. A wide staircase invites me up. I

longer hear Arabic, English is predominantly

ascend and find myself between small shops

spoken. The contrast between the street I just

and homes lining this maze of white buildings,

turned from and this area is extreme. The local

white homes and white stones. I am now alone,

culture is gone. It is nice, but it feels wrong, like

except for the occasional passersby who are

it wasnÂ´t meant to be here, like it is disrupting

either on their way, or are exploring the area.

the otherwise calm evening in Jaffa.

It is quiet, I am not scared but intrigued. The white stone, from which the Old City of Jaffa is constructed, makes it difficult to figure out where I am. Eventually a right turn leads me into the main square; an open plaza, with some shops and restaurants, a small stage and some sort of ancient ruins. The people here are enjoying the evening. An argentine tango lesson is taking place on the stage and people are watching. Others are sitting in the few bars and restaurants and enjoying the breeze that is coming from the beach.

As I walk back home leaving the white stone behind me, I am flooded by the local bustle of Tel Avivians. There is a temporal division between these two parts of the city. The Old City of Jaffa is generally quiet, compared to the non-stop city life of Tel Aviv. My walk was mostly quiet, the lights were dimly lit and it felt as though I was in a different time. People are more conservative in their demeanor and dress and they follow their long standing traditions more. In contrast, Tel Aviv is a pocket of liberalism, personal freedoms and self-expression. Neither

I can see the clock tour just behind the square,

is better or worse, but the boundaries in ways of

I walk towards it straight through the plaza

life really highlight these distinctions.

and before I know it, I find myself in a less comfortable environment. The clock tower is in front of what seems to be the entrance to Jaffa, which is confirmed by the police van standing at the entrance. The men in and surrounding the van are keeping an eye out and this clear division makes my senses heighten. The people here are Arabs. Nobody says anything, some ignore me, while some smile and nod. The sidewalk is lined with shops and restaurants, and the distinct aroma of Middle Eastern spices

Although Tel Aviv and Jaffa are considered one place, the differences that exist make it seem like miles away. I canâ€™t help but think about the politics of it all and how the situation has drawn borders within this city. Recent events have made people cautious and I canâ€™t help to think whether the warnings I have heard are only feeding into our imaginations to help construct these borders and lines within a city that has coexisted with different ideas.

fills the air.

Photo by Lydia Ioannidou

55 South Korea by Victoria Romulo

South Korea by Victoria Romulo

An Unexpected New Home Story by Sherilyn Gautama, Study Abroad

As an international student who moved out

excitement (mostly excitement, though). South

when I was 15, I am used to adapting to new

Korea is a special country for me because it is

places and shifting homes. It’s interesting as a

the place I spent my high school graduation trip

teenager to have changing definitions of what

with my friends just a year before. It’s a country

a home is, and I felt that the most when I was

where I have hidden a lot of memories and a

in Seoul, South Korea. As background, I am an

country where I’ve really bonded and fell in love

Indonesian student who moved to Singapore

with its culture and people.

for high school, then came to Northeastern for university. When I received the acceptance letter to study abroad in Yonsei University, I didn’t feel elated. I felt a mixed sense of dread and

When I moved into Yonsei University for my study abroad, I was so excited. I could already tell that I would have a great time in this

South Korea by Victoria Romulo

summer program. I also started becoming

About two weeks in, me, my roommate and

very familiar with the surrounding areas of

her boyfriend went on a weekend trip to Nami

Sinchon, Ewha and Hongdae. I got to know

Island. This had been my dream because it is

friends who kept me company every day. I

the set of a famous Korean TV drama I watched

was lucky enough to share the same classes

when I was young. We had a magical time there

as Yunjin, a Korean girl studying in the United

exploring the island by bike. We also passed

Kingdom, and we always went to our second

different cities in the east and witnessed the

class together while we shared what we did on

most beautiful sunrise in Korea (and arguably,

the weekends. I even had a routine everyday

in my life) in Jeongdongjin. As I watched the

for school: ordering coffee from the same spot

sunrise, I just realized how in love I was with

and eating the same menu for breakfast. As a

this country and it really felt like home. I was in

person who loves a sense of routine, I didnâ€™t

awe at how at ease I was becoming with this

even notice that I was starting to become very

unfamiliar city. We also went to some other

familiar with my surroundings.

beautiful places like Seoraksan mountain, a freshwater river in Yang Yang and a filming site

South Korea by Victoria Romulo

from a popular drama called “Goblin.” I never

wasn’t going to pass because I did not do as well

thought I would grow to adapt so quickly,

as I wanted. I sang a famous song called “Eyes,

especially when many aspects in my life in Korea

Nose, Lips” by Taeyang with a bilingual twist: I

were vastly different to my life back home in

sang the first half in Korean and the second half

Singapore or even Boston.

in English. It turned out that I did well, passed

Around halfway through the summer program, there was a talent show program where the Yonsei International Summer School students could audition and be a part of the Summer Fiesta, a dinner party the school arranged for

the audition and was asked to perform. I was very nervous as the day came closer because I was singing in a language I was not familiar with, but the event planning team was so supportive and emailed me constant encouragement.

all of us and our professors. My roommate (who

I was also lucky enough to be approached by the

was also from Northeastern) told me to apply for

GEO office in Northeastern to do a takeover on

it because she knew how much I loved singing.

their Instagram about my time in Korea and my

I auditioned right after my classes and thought I

study abroad experience. I loved sharing how

South Korea by Victoria Romulo

my day went and answering questions about

this new country because I was not there just for

it. Yet another amazing opportunity from this

a mere vacation. I had to study and be in school.

experience! The International Marketing Team

I did not realize how comfortable I felt the more

in Yonsei emailed me that they saw my GEO

I went out and was able to order food by myself

takeover and wanted to interview me about my

or even use the subway trains without getting

time. I never thought I would have this much

lost. I mean, it took me at least six months to

involvement in such a short amount of time in

a year to be able to call Singapore and Boston

my study abroad, so I felt beyond grateful and

home, and here I was feeling at home after six

blessed to able to share my time in Korea.

weeks in Korea. Though I only visited Korea for

As my time in Korea came to a close, I reflected back on the amazing memories I made while I was there. I reflected as I sit down sipping my

a short time, I did not expect to find a place to call home, and that made South Korea an irreplaceable place in my life.

favourite coffee order at the sandwich place down the road from my dorm. I thought I was going to struggle a lot in terms of adapting to

Indian Woman by Fernanda Lรณpez

The Barefoot Philosophy Story by Chelsey Harmer, Dialogue

Sitting on the ground in a circle, barefoot,

fed. The smell of much needed rain pouring

metal trays in front of us, watching the locals

down, filling the reserves, getting caught with

skillfully eat a heaping plate of dal, rice and

no umbrella. Sleeping on a low cot, watching

roti without using any silverware. Children

millipedes crawl under the door.

from a nearby village wandering over to play, learning their names without sharing a common language. Stray dogs trailing along behind us fighting with one another, hoping to get

These were the sights, sounds and smells of our stay at Barefoot College. After driving many hours on the deserted highway, and

down narrow bumpy cow-filled roads, we found

at work laughing and wiring solar lanterns,

ourselves in Tilonia, a village in the Ajmer

communicating without sharing a common

district in Rajasthan, Northern India. Our stay

language. These women were the current group

was humbling, and I had to embrace being

of â€œSolar Mamas,â€? who came to Tilonia from

uncomfortable at times. It was here, away

the most remote villages across the globe to

from the organized chaos that exists in the

train to become solar engineers. By the end

cities, that I learned some of the most valuable

of six months, the women are sent home with

lessons from our entire dialogue. I realized,

the knowledge and tools required to bring

sitting on the floor among the others, eating

solar power to their villages, all without using a

some of the best food I would have over the

universal language, but instead with a workbook

whole trip, that Barefoot College is truly a

that uses diagrams and pictures. The women

hidden gem. While it may not be a traditional

in the current group were from 10 different

college, as its name implies, it is a place that

countries, ranging from Afghanistan to Myanmar.

embodies community, education, and growth.

I had a chance to speak with the women from

Barefoot College was built by the poor, for the poor. The mission of the organization is centered around supporting and nurturing rural villages, empowering them to become innovators and educators. My experience at Barefoot was unique because it is unlike any other social enterprise that we visited. I realized that development does not have to entail urbanization. There is value and untapped potential in empowering the rural poor by spreading self-sufficiency and sustainability to the most remote places in the world. This is achieved through many different lenses at the

Uganda who knew English. All four were very grateful for the experience, a little homesick and were excited to go home and light their villages. In addition to learning engineering skills, they also take courses in personal finance, entrepreneurship, sexual health and technology. The women were confident and seemed to enjoy the safe space that Barefoot had created for them. The whole workroom had a sort of buzz to it, an energy and confidence that spread between the women as they worked side by side; in that moment, I knew Barefoot was a very special place.

college, from educating others about energy

Barefoot College provided me with a new

and water to sexual education and dental care.

perspective on rural development. My previous

Barefootâ€™s innovative solutions target 14 of the

mindset was rigid, in that development is about

17 UN Sustainable Development Goals. The

baby steps and access to basic necessities,

most impressive program the college has to

but my experience at Barefoot taught me that

offer is the Solar Mamas.

these villages have all of the capability they

When I walked into the workroom containing 45 women of all different nationalities, sitting on either side of a long table filed with circuit

need; education, training and technology are the key to helping them make leaps and bounds instead of baby steps.

boards, soldering tools, I was awestruck. These mothers and grandmothers were busy

The Enigmatic Russian Soul Story by Rintaro Nishimura Dialogue

Exploration comes with surprises and discovery.

westernized and has a lot of potential for trade

My summer escapade to explore a new culture

as they like to shop western brands which are

led me to discover the enigmatic Russian soul.

seen as luxury goods. A sign of Russian identity

Culture is the values, beliefs, and traditions of

is knowing art, paintings, or ballets. There was

a group of people. We delved into the enigma

high control by the government and a lot of

through four main topics: architecture, food,

security as the World Cup was coming shortly.

society, and life. Before arriving in Russia, I

Additionally, the cost of living is lower compared

imagined I would find cold people that didnâ€™t

to the US or Tokyo while bigger cities can be a

smile and preferred a lot of personal space.

little more expensive than rural areas.

I expected angry people that are impatient, diversity, and a high number of English speakers. All these assumptions are stereotypical thoughts that most foreigners would most likely have. But what I actually experienced was a surprising amount of smiling, especially in big cities like St. Petersburg who receive millions of tourists a year. I saw a collectivist society that thinks of common goals first and at the same time is modernizing at a faster pace in big cities like Moscow. Russian society has low personal space, showing public affection to a great extent. They like to show off their wealth due to the high power distance, dressing and using expensive goods. Regarding lifestyle, a high drinking culture was expected, as Russia is known for their vodka. An oppressed society was expected due to government control that is shown in international media. A lower cost of living and a lot of winter clothes were anticipated due to the harsh Russian weather.In reality, we saw a slow-paced society where services take a substantial amount of time. There is a high smoking and drinking culture, whether it is alcoholic beverages or tea. There is an unpredictable lifestyle, where anything can happen. This society is quite

As a Japanese citizen who has never been to Russia, the expectations in terms of architecture were mainly religious and Soviet-style buildings. The reality was that architecture is a way Russians preserve and glorify their past. It tells us what Russians in general, and in particular regions feel proud of. It is part of their identity. There was also a general perception that Moscow and St. Petersburg were modern, while other cities werenâ€™t. We saw that despite the discrepancy in speed, all regions were modernizing one way or the other. Wooden architecture like in Tomsk were symbols of wealth for merchants. Constructivist architecture in Yekaterinburg were symbols of success of the factories in the Stalin era. Fountains in St. Petersburg were products of the charismatic Peter the Great. Cathedrals were distinct from each other in design and central to the lives of the people. The Kremlin in Moscow is a symbol of victory and power for Russian citizens. Food is defined as how people live off the land. It is central to the lives of people in a particular region. We expected regional variety, high vodka consumption, and local vegetables and

Russia by Kate Moore

fruits. Famous Russian gourmet for me was

intertwined with the land. Russia is a vast country

borscht and beef stroganoff, which were very

with regional variations, and appearances

much influenced by guidebooks found in Japan.

can deceive you. On one hand, you have

However, there was much more, such as a fusion of European and Asian culture, fast food popularity, and unexpected tea culture. There were also many dishes that were dough-based, such as pelmeni and blinis, which were methods to preserve products for the long winter season. There were also many berry types, which became

the architecture and food that have come to symbolize Russia in the world. On the other hand, you have the people, who are not as stereotypes suggest they are. What ties them together is the fact that the peopleâ€™s identity relies heavily on the past, which is preserved by these artifacts.

mors and jam. Again, the idea was that Russian

Exploration always comes with new discoveries.

traditional food is geared toward preservation.

Why not take the chance to learn outside of the

The Russian soul is like a matryoshka doll, which happens to originate in Japan. This seems to encapsulate our journey to understand

traditional classroom setting when there are a plethora of opportunities served on a silver platter (courtesy of Northeasternâ€™s DoC program!)

the complex Russian soul. The soul is deeply

New Zealand by Margaret Sweeden

Get Outside Story by Amelia Aldrich, Study Abroad

There are few places in this world that

New Zealand is a playground for explorers,

embrace nature so effortlessly and without

dreamers and thrill-seekers alike. It is home to

hesitation. Whether it be simply taking a

breathtaking views, crystal clear waters and the

moment to appreciate the clear blue skies and

most kind and welcoming people; and I was

favorable surfing conditions, or disregarding

lucky enough to call it home for five months.

responsibilities for the day and heading out on a

While I admit that my superficial reason for

hike instead, the small island of New Zealand has

going was to study abroad at the University of

perfected the art of prioritizing the outdoors.

Canterbury in Christchurch, my true purpose was to refocus on aspects of my life and restore

a love for nature that I felt I had lost since

worlds. I was never fully devoted to one, but

entering college.

instead had one foot in each, taking advantage

I grew up experiencing the best of both worlds

of the beauty in both.

â€” while I was raised in Boston, surrounded

Nature has always offered me a unique sense of

by the hustle and bustle of the city, my family

calm and has served as an escape, allowing me

would escape to a different world whenever

to breathe easier and self-reflect. However, as

we had the chance. We would spend holidays

I have grown up and become more entrenched

and long weekends in the Green Mountains of

in the busy pace of college, my priorities

Vermont â€” isolated in the forest and deeply

have shifted and the time I used to spend

immersed in nature, far away from any sign of

outside has transformed into time I spend in

civilization. I had a charmed upbringing, having

seemingly endless meetings and lectures. As

the privilege to learn from two vastly different

classes quickly consumed my attention, my

65 Photo by Jacob Grondin

New Zealand by Margaret Sweeden

mind became occupied with concerns about

if it would further my academic career and if I

upcoming exams and deadlines — and in turn,

might benefit from a more demanding program

my free time disappeared.

elsewhere. Then I caught myself, re-evaluated

When I was presented with the opportunity to spend a semester abroad in New Zealand, my first thought was, “Wow, I am going to miss out on so much here — is that worth it?” I could picture all the weekend trips, board game nights and dinners I would miss out on. When I tried to envision myself on the other side of the world, I could not help but feel left out of all the events happening at home. I started to consider

my thought process and said to myself, “This is an opportunity to live somewhere new, exchange the New England winter for the New Zealand summer, make new friends and revive your love of being outside — how could you ever question that?” Reflecting back on why I chose Northeastern, I remember telling my friends, “I’m going to Northeastern just so I can leave it.” It being Northeastern. I saw college as the time to take chances, challenges and

explore. However, upon reflection, I quickly

or my peers’, to miss a lecture if a hike was in

realized that this opportunity to study abroad in

question or the waves were high. Every person

New Zealand fell squarely in line with my initial

I met — whether they were a fellow student,

decision to attend Northeastern. Northeastern

traveler or professor — had the same avid

encourages time abroad like other universities

desire to be outside and appreciate the full

encourage academic excellence, and this

extent of nature. The two islands that make up

realization made my decision easy. Moreover,

this magnificent country boasts of extraordinary

selecting my classes was a breeze, flights

landscapes, steep mountains and endless

were booked within minutes and even saying

coastlines. Everyone around me clearly mirrored

goodbye to friends and family was painless. I

my excitement and love for the outdoors.

packed my hiking boots, some warm layers of

Never did I think that my love of being outside

clothing and a journal for my thoughts — and I

would be met with such enthusiasm by my

“

As soon as I landed, I knew I made the right decision. I was greeted by snowcapped mountains, a warm sun, and endless shades of green.

”

was off to fly around the world to this island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

professors, who often encouraged us to take breaks and step outside. Most of them having grown up surrounded by nature themselves, were well versed in the physical and mental benefits nature offers. They would support our choices of spending the afternoon in the sun rather than locked up in the library, reminding us that there will always be time for studies when the sun isn’t out. After five months in New Zealand, my appetite for being outside has been replenished. Although I do not have access to the same resources in Boston as I did on the South Island, I still make

As soon as I landed, I knew I made the right

a conscious effort to appreciate nature. When

decision. I was greeted by snow-capped

the sun is shining and the sky is blue, I make a

mountains, a warm sun and endless shades

point to go outside and let the sun warm my

of green. I spent the next five months fully

skin — even if just for a few minutes. I know now

immersing myself in nature — exploring

to remind myself that prioritizing the things you

New Zealand’s infinite national parks, hiking

feel passionately about and make you happy will

countless trails and surfing the massive waves

forever be more meaningful than a single

of the Pacific Ocean.

exam grade or perfect class attendance in

In addition to the stunning landscapes and views, I was also surrounded by people who were likewise there to appreciate and take advantage of all that New Zealand had to

the grand scheme of life. So, go outside. Take a breath of fresh air. Take a hike. Use those moments to remember what is most important to you, and don’t let it slip away as we so often do.

offer. Every weekend was a new adventure and there was never any hesitation on my end,

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Special Thanks The N.U.in Program Global Experience Office The School of Journalism Student Government Association The International Affairs Program College of Social Sciences and Humanities

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