My experience in Rio has been amazing so far. Rio is a paradise – but not for all. Beautiful houses with big swimming pools locate along the beach, with favelas (“communidades”) sitting on the mountains next to those fancy houses.
I learned so much from the book, <Brazil’s Dance with the Devil: World Cup, Olympics, and the Fight for Democracy>, about Brazil’s social issues, especially about the impacts of the mega events in recent years. However, I never expected to learn this much about the Olympics Games of Beijing 2008 in respect of Rio 2016.
Aproximação da Verdade – Pequim 2008
Eu lembro quando era criança numa escola primária, era necessário que nós alunos estudam e recitam um artigo que descreveu o momento de ancião a cidade sede dos Jogos Olímpicos de 2008 – Pequim. Era considerado como um sucesso histórico da China e eu derramei lágrimas quando li.
Contudo, nunca esperei para ler o livro sobre uns megaeventos no Brasil que me duvidar no que acreditei no passado com 20 anos de idade. O livro me tornou muito preocupado na condição na China e minha ignorância da condição na China por causa de controlo dos média e da educação doméstica.
O governo chinês se comprometeu a respeitar o ideal olímpico da dignidade e direitos humanos. Contrariamente às expectativas, os Jogos Olímpicos de Pequim são uma oportunidade para impulsionar a realização de despejos forçados, detenção de críticos, violação da liberdade de imprensa, e repressão política.
Como disse Tunne Kelam, um estudioso e político europeu,“infelizmente, os Jogos Olímpicos de Pequim provaram que os regimes autoritários não têm capacidade ou vontade para honrarem os ideais olímpicos de respeito pelos direitos humanos e da paz”. No entanto, o regime autoritário não foi a única a culpar – como foi apontado pelos Thomas Boswell e Dave Zirin, os principais meios ocidentais escolheram descurar o facto e se tornaram um grande canal de propaganda por causa dos seus benefícios. Não há nada de novo neste tipo de propaganda e colusão no mundo. Nos Jogos Olímpicos nunca este em jogo apenas o desporto.
Ainda assim, não deixo de me perguntar – nós chineses vão continuar a tolerar a ditadura por mais quanto tempo? A consciência dos meios dominantes se perde para sempre na sociedade capitalista? Os jogos pode ser mais uma benção do que uma maldição?
This week was filled with plenty of adventure, including a second exam!
Monday, I walked around my neighborhood. San Lorenzo is pretty particular. Just outside the Aurelian walls and east of Termini, it is known for being a bit duro, or hard: the streets and buildings look rough with graffiti everywhere and beer bottles in the piazze. This neighborhood, however, is one of the more lively quarters, especially since it hosts many of Rome’s #1 university buildings. Because La Sapienza is so nearby, there are plenty of bars and restaurants in the area catered to suit poor college student bank accounts. It is also located near the Esquilino neighborhood, the hub of stranieri, or foreigners, in Rome. For this, there are many options in terms of Asian markets to shop for groceries.
Smokestack of San LorenzoA mural in San Lorenzo
Then on Tuesday following class, I walked with some of my classmates down Via dei Fori Imperiali to the Colosseum and Arch of Constantine. Following that, we walked into Monti, one of the more hip neighborhoods in Rome, to grab lunch at a fast food pasta place called Pasta Imperiale (yes, they exist and they’re fabulous) and then a gelato afterwards at a well known gelateria in Monti called Fatamorgana. That evening, I had prepared a non-Italian dinner for myself. The day before, I had marinated a piece of salmon. Then I sliced it to eat with rice, cucumber, seaweed, and egg. Later that evening, I had planned to meet again with Flora, my Italian friend. As I waited for her, I sat on Via dei Fori Imperiali. There was a group playing live music and many people enjoying the unnaturally cool evening. It was so pleasant to sit within the ancient city in a contemporary context. We finally met up and then went together to a bar just near Colle Oppio. Hidden behind what seemed like ruined walls was an Indian themed bar with accents of Middle Eastern and Saharan African accents. There we watched a fire dancer perform and a live band playing themed music.
Via dei Fori ImperialiThe Arch of ConstantineFatamorgana gelatoQuasi-sushi dinner/break from Italian food!Tuesday night waiting for FloraVoodoo BarCorso Vittorio Emanuele
Wednesday after class, I had lunch with Huda and then we went on a mission to find a good panna cotta, which literally translates to cooked cream. We walked from Esquilino, where we’d eaten, to San Giovanni in a bar/pasticceria called Pompi. There, we found the custard dessert with the options of different toppings. I ordered frutti di bosco, or forest fruit topping.
La panna cotta
After deciding that Saturday I had wanted to go to Nemi, a small borgo famous for its fragoline, I didn’t end up making it. I took the intercity bus from the station intending to make a change in Genzano. The only problem was the bus only stops if you request, and it’s almost impossible to know where the stops are. After missing my point of change, I ended up arriving an hour outside of my destination. It was around 2:00 in the afternoon, I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and I wasn’t going to make it in time to catch lunch in Nemi. I found the train station, but a bus ticket back to Rome, and got back within an hour and a half. Luckily, the tickets had only cost about 2,00 euro each so it was a cheap mistake to make.
Sunday, however, was by far the highlight of my week. Huda and I had made plans to go to one of the beaches near Rome. Since I had been to Sperlonga the year before, and many Italians rate it amongst the best near Rome, we headed there for our seaside adventure. We arrived at the train station and took a bus from the station to the city. Once we arrived, we each had a crema caffe’, essentially a coffee frosty, to cool us down from the heat. As we walked the main via, we started to go down to each beach to see if we could rent an ombrellone and two lettini. The way Italian beaches work is this: restaurants and bars will own a plot of land which usually includes a strip of waterfront. This way, they can make money from renting umbrellas and beds to beachgoers. The first beach we asked was al completo, or full. We walked on to the next, also full. We checked each bar and restaurant: tutti al completo. We decided to backtrack to ask the restaurants we had passed earlier, and thankfully, someone had cancelled their reservation, leaving exactly one ombrellone and two lettini for Huda and I.
SperlongaCrema caffe’Pizza Bufalina alla NapoletanaLungomare
I stepped out of the airport completely drained from my sleepless 13-hour flight and awfully sweaty from the long wait to get through customs. The last time I spoke a word in Chinese was almost six weeks ago, so it wasn’t surprising that as I stepped out of the airport and saw a Chinese lady holding up the brightest yellow sign that said NDiB, I, exhausted yet somehow fully aware of the Language Pledge that this program would reinforce, was almost too afraid to approach her. However, I later found out through my terribly broken Chinese that she would be teaching 2nd-Year Chinese; she would be my teacher!
The Language Pledge was not officially implemented until the first day of class, when each of us signed a “contract” to promise that we would only speak Chinese during the entire program. Yes, I was warned that the Pledge would be challenging, but little did I know that I would still struggle with it after one full week of being here. Although I did not expect myself to be able to communicate fluently by now, I definitely thought that after one week I would have felt more comfortable carrying out basic conversations with others in Chinese. The strange, ironic feeling I got, however, was that the more I learned during the past week of class, the more incapable I felt of my Chinese abilities. It suddenly hit me that wow! Chinese is indeed an incredibly difficult language, and perhaps the objectives I set out for myself prior to the trip was unrealistic. There was no way I could come close to speaking fluent Chinese even after two months of being immersed in the Chinese culture. Understanding that it won’t get any easier from here, I only hope that I would soon get used to the struggle of communicating in Chinese. Although it might be frustrating, I must learn to embrace the challenge.
Besides that, my first week here was full of exciting things! My classmates and I did not wait too long to kick-start our adventure in Beijing. After our Placement Test on Saturday (the day after we flew in), we went out to explore the Summer Palace to tick off the first box on my Beijing must-do list. We also went to Nanluoguxiang, a famous old, traditional neighborhood, Tiananmen, and tried Beijing Kaoya (roasted duck) and scorpions.
Eating scorpions on Wangfujing StreetTiananmen
However, I’m still not used to sitting in class for four consecutive hours every day. In fact, once I get out of class I cannot bring myself to do any more work. With that being said, I have created for myself a slightly different schedule than others’ to maximize my experience here in Beijing. I sacrifice my sleep and wake up early to complete my homework and prepare for quizzes before class. In return, I get to spend my afternoon and night exploring different parts of Beijing with, if not my classmates, my siblings, who are also in Beijing for their study abroad program. I have realized that as long as I keep myself busy exploring new things, I won’t be too overwhelmed by the academic aspect of the program. In addition, venturing out and interacting with local people is, in my opinion, the best way to practice Chinese and truly learn the culture.
brother, Julie, and sister in Sanlitunour new friend, the tuktuk driver
Before coming to China, my brother, who had lived in Shanghai, China for five years, told me about Chinese people’s’ reluctance to discuss controversial topics, especially with foreigners. I hadn’t really thought much of it, but since my arrival to Beijing, it seems to be the only thing I think about.
Every single class, our teachers always seem to implement our views on controversial tropics, especially President Trump. With all the uproar in the news nowadays, I don’t blame them, but after a while, you start to wonder what their views are. Respecting cultural sensitivity towards my teachers, I never asked them, but instead, decided to ask Chinese people on the street of different ages and genders what their opinions were on today’s controversial topics.
First, on the train ride back from Xian, I asked a twenty-five year old college graduate wearing an oddly Waldo-esque t-shirt several questions. Starting off slow, I asked him whether he watched or read the news often. After fervently nodding yes, I was excited to hear what he thought about America, Russia, China’s economic boom and shift towards Western-style living over the years. To my dismay, whenever a question about government or economics came up, he repeated he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject and would rather move on to another topic. It seemed as though every topic was too liberal! After much disappointment, I asked him whether he liked America and Western influence in China. He said he loved America, especially movies. He said his favorite movie was Harry Potter, which ironically, is made up of British actors.
Later, I asked a young woman working on the train what her opinions were of America and our president. Just like the young man, she refused to answer the questions and instead kept repeating she loved America. After my third question, she politely excused herself and moved to the opposite side of the train. In shock, all I could wonder was am I so frightening? I am a 5’4, nineteen year old American girl wearing a Notre Dame T-shirt and Nike sneakers. Why are they so scared to tell me their opinions?
Finally, I asked an old woman about her opinions of America. She was very against Western culture, and kept repeating that the reason for increasing childhood obesity in China was due to American food. Feel my anger rising, I tried to maintain my calm and explain to her that fast food is only a small portion of American culinary. Refusing to believe me, she walked away murmuring to herself in unintelligible Mandarin.
After these encounters, I still don’t really know what Chinese people think of Western culture. Most people are too polite to say their real opinions. Hopefully, their opinions are good, but seeing photos of Beijing before and after Western influence, I could understand why they wouldn’t be.
The Chinese language is steeped in thousands of years of history, and over time popular phrases have developed and appeared in everyday life. An interesting characteristic of the language is their tendency for simplification. While this is not specifically slang, this characteristic makes studying abroad in China easier for students who are still learning the language. Many of the streets are lined with shops that have names describing what type of products the store sells. In this way, even students with a basic knowledge of the language are able to find the stores they need.
During my time studying the Chinese language, I have learned a number of slang terms. Curious to what some general Chinese citizens had to say about different slang terms, I interviewed a few. The first slang term was 也是醉了 (yeshi zuile), the literal translation of the term is ‘also drunk’ but in colloquial use the terms is used to express an individual’s frustration with something unreasonable. The older woman I discussed this with seemed rather unfamiliar with the term, the reason for which became clear after talking with a younger woman. She explained that the saying was most commonly used on online forums rather than in face to face conversations. Much like lol or omg in the English language, this saying helps people easily communicate their feelings over the internet. This more modern saying hasn’t yet had the chance to spread through all the generations. Only time will tell if the saying lasts or if it is merely a fad.
Another saying that my Chinese teacher in high school taught me was 二百五 (er bai wu), the literal meaning of this slang is just 250 but the colloquial use is to call a person very stupid. Both of the women that I talked to disliked the term and said it was not used in polite conversation. Such a negative connotation surrounds the phrase that many times shopkeepers won’t sell an item for that exact amount, choosing instead to add or subtract one yuan. It seems strange that slang can be as simple as a number, and yet still have such a negative meaning. Even with negative sayings and words, the Chinese language is beautiful and diverse. Through my increasing fluency, each day I learn more and more about the country and culture that I have come to love.
I experienced both excitements and disappointments last weekend but every memory was worth cherishing and talking about. Last Friday I went to Gibli Art Museum (The museum of Miyazaki Hayao) with the ICU culture program. Gibli Museum visit was THE activity that I looked forward for a long time and it did not disappoint me. Though the museum was not very big, It was filled with cute details at every corner. I examined Mr. Miyazaki’s drawings carefully, hard to believe that they were all done by hands at a period of time full of computer technologies. I have followed his anime movies since young and it was like looking back to my childhood memory in this museum. Though as a common rule in Japan I could not take any pictures inside the museum, I would not easily forget the lovely totoros on the window frames, the delicate spiral staircases and the fluffy spider dolls at the corners. In no other places have I seen so much attention paid to perfecting the details. Perhaps it is also a merit in Japanese culture.
On Saturday night the biggest firework in Tokyo took place at Sumida River near Asakusa Shine and I went to have a look with my friends. Although on Friday the professor warned me that there would be lots of people, I did not expected it to be so much. The subway to asakusa was tremendous and even worse it rained hardly. I felt lucky that I did not wear yukata because it would be even more difficult to walk. So instead of squeezing into the crowd for the firework, my friends and I went to taste the street food set up for this big event. They were very satisfying. As a part of 夏祭り (Japanese Summer festival) the firework was one of the most popular events in Japan over the year. People, especially couples, get together to enjoy the firework wearing yukata. In almost every love or youth themed Japanese TV shows, movies and anime, the firework festival took place and was described as very interesting and romantic. Yet, in reality the feeling was totally different with too many people. (Though the traditional snacks along the street were as delicious as expected.) Anyway, it was a funny and worthwhile experience to see how the world in TV differed from the real world.
(This photo is took by a brave friend who endured to see the firework. it was really beautiful)
As a side note, I am sitting at a cafe in Kichijoji this afternoon writing this post. Since Kichijoji only needs one bus and half an hour to get there, it has raised up to my No. 1 choice to spend an afternoon. There are so many izakaya (Japanese bar), cafe and sweet small design shops. Also, it is still not so occupied with tourists and remains the image of a lively Japanese shopping area. I have drawn some lovely images of my impression of ICU.
Over the past few weeks I have been randomly asking some native Chinese about their impressions of the United States. My subjects include: teachers, students, friends, parents, and other adults. In collecting answers, I have found, as expected, that some are more knowledgeable than others. Recently it seems like everyone has formed an opinion on America’s new President, meaning their views on America have been influenced by social media and news reports. So far, the attitude toward Trump has been negative. One father expressed his sincere beliefs about America’s future. He feels that China will soon surpass America, especially with America’s new president. China is in a state of growth and development that he foresees will place China at the forefront. I asked an international student who is currently attending college in the US about her attitude toward the US. For the most part she enjoys the freedom that America has to offer and she upholds and overall positive opinion. Yet she finds that the also freedom has its drawbacks. She feels like some Americans are overly vocal and cross boundaries. A few people have asked her if she feels sad that China does not have as much freedom as America.
Another realization hit me — many people are only familiar with the big-name places such as New York, Los Angeles, and other popular settings for American movies. Some have never heard of my home, Pennsylvania. Moreover, these movies have formed many people’s perception of the United States. Some people have images of the southern towns full of cowboys carrying around guns, others picture college students running around green university campuses, and still others expect the US to be like Europe. Our teachers and tour guides have warned us about the general belief that Americans are extremely wealthy. For this reason, foreigners ( wai guo ren) are often targeted by market sellers and taxi drivers. The bargaining culture in China is simultaneously a blessing and a curse. Only if you are strategic and somewhat aggressive can you buy reasonably priced items. Haggling truly is a skill, I have personally unintentionally overpaid for a few items, so I respect those who are learned in the ways of asserting themselves in the marketplace.
Image below: Muslim Street in Xi’An.
A few weeks ago, our class had an opportunity to visit a middle school in Beijing. During our visit, a few ND students gave presentations on Christmas, schooling, and camping in the US. The middle school students were astonished to hear about our light work load in middle school as well as our freedom to engage in extracurricular activities and leisure time. In turn, the pressure that the students are under astounds me. Some students learn the material I encounter in college as early as middle school. After our visit, I asked a teacher how else students spend their time, to which she responded that their lives primarily consist of studying. Even when they are not in class, many students attend supplementary classes.
After middle school, the pressure continues to build. A high school student’s future education relies solely on their performance during this one major pre-college exam, gao kao. In China the schools are categorized into different tiers. When students prepare for the gao kao they apply to two schools in each tier. In the case that a student is weak academically, they are discouraged from even applying to the top colleges.
Another one of my teachers recently described her high school life to me. Compared to my own high school experience her high school days sound exciting, yet rigorous. I feel like her high school experience resembles my own college experience a bit. She lived in a boarding school, meaning she learned to be independent at a young age. I believe her school is relatively standard, but I am not certain. After a full day of classes (literally a full day), she had an extremely strict curfew. A sort of hall monitor makes his or her rounds through the dorm. Whether they are tired or not, the students must sleep. They cannot talk, because they will be heard. Additionally, the power is shut off at a certain time every night. In recalling her experiences, she also nostalgically talked about the moments with friends, shopping in the on-campus market, exploring the different cafeterias, and attending different school events. According to her, the ultimate consequence for misbehavior or misconduct was a call to a student’s parents.
Considering that a child’s behavior is often seen as a reflection of his or her upbringing, when a child misbehaves they disappoint and embarrass their parents. I’ve noticed that more traditional Chinese parenting is more so tough love than in America. In America, political correctness is widely upheld; most people put in effort to not offend anyone for fear of creating to conflict. Children are often encouraged to find and pursue their dreams. In China, parents often project their wishes and hopes onto their children. The most common dream involves schooling, a well-paying (or better yet prestigious) job, marriage, and a household. A lot of parents are critical of their children, when their children do well they ask them why they didn’t do better. Comparisons are drawn and criticisms are thrown on children in hopes of motiving the child to strive and succeed.
So far, I have only been able to record a few of my contemplations. For the remainder of my time here I intend to continue learning and observing. By now, I have come to the obvious conclusion that my life would be drastically different if I had grown up in China. Sometimes I try to imagine an alternate life, but I can only speculate. I believe a trip to the country side would greatly enrich my experience, but I will not have the opportunity to visit the countryside during this trip here. Hopefully I will have a chance another time.
French cuisine is great and everybody knows it. So great in fact, that walking an hour and a half to Blanc Foussy, one of several wine caves in the Loire Valley, is not at all bizarre. My walk there went particularly well, as I learned about German architectural failures from a kind and talkative German student. However, anyone can research the wine-making process and learn what I did at Blanc Foussy.
Un étalage aux Grandes Caves Saint-Roch (Blanc Foussy)
Instead, I’ll talk about cheese. Specifically chèvre. Specifically chèvre that is shaped like the bottom portion of the pyramid on a dollar bill (without the Eye of Providence that is). Tours and its surroundings specialize in chèvre, goat cheese, which is often sold in the aforementioned shape. It had already made a few inconspicuous appearances on the cheese platter that my host family offers after every meal when my host father recounted to me and the other student living here its history.
Pyramidal chèvre already existed in Napoleon’s time, and seeing it at a dinner with his counselor Talleyrand reminded him of his conquests in Egypt. He cut off the top as a metaphorical show of power, and thence vendors reinforced the notion by selling the cheese sans point.
La forme que j’ai décrit. La photo grâce à Google.
Wine and cheese emblematize l’art de vivre, which I associate primarily with France. I often forget the warm weather required to cultivate them so finely. France’s proximity to the Mediterranean has entwined its history with that of Northern Africa with mostly adverse effects. I didn’t think to expect one as positive as the exchange of food. Besides the legendary origin of not-quite-pyramidal chèvre, dishes like merguez (North African sausage) and couscous are common. I’ve now eaten that meal in my host family’s home and on L’Île de Rê, where I spent this past weekend.
Six students from the University of Alabama, a fellow ND student, and I rented two rooms at a homestay near La Rochelle, a historic town on the Atlantic coast.
We arrived in La Rochelle Friday evening ready to eat, then found out that we needed to check in at the homestay before nine. After checking in, we set out seeking a marvel–an establishment open past ten in France. What we found instead was a fast food joint already closing, whose employees offered to imagine we were cars so they could serve us at the drive-through. These kind gentlemen gave us extra fries and chicken strips, and set the tone for a lovely weekend.
On Saturday, we resisted the urge to laze on the beach just long enough to downtown La Rochelle. After mussels and white wine, we strolled to the towers overlooking the old port: La Tour Saint-Nicolas and La Tour de la Chaîne. The name of the latter comes from its original function as one anchor of a chain which prevented entry into the port when drawn. Standing on La Tour Saint-Nicolas, where sentinels watched over this center of French maritime trade through the Hundred Years’ War, during La Fronde, and onwards, inspired me.
Je n’ai pas pu résisterMa tête entre La Tour Saint-Nicolas (à gauche) et La Tour de la Chaîne (à droite)
The next day, I parted from the group at Sablanceaux–the first of the many beaches along L’Île de Ré. The buses barely run on Sundays, and especially not on an island where a limit on building height exists to prevent hotels and resorts from disrupting the local charm. I hiked about fourteen kilometers and saw some pretty towns, but only one of the many things I’d wanted to see was in reach.
Among the tips offered to us by the owner of the homestay was a gas station that sells local beers, including “the Blonde de Ré.” Motivated by this amber mystery, I followed the arrows and circles on the minimal map the owner had given me. Thirsty and tired, I found the station. Closed.
Maison de Blonde de Ré
L’Île de Ré is beautiful and peaceful, and I want to spend more time there. Planning my unfinished adventure occupied me on the long walk back to Sablanceaux, where I had merguez and couscous on the beach, seated among friends. Perhaps the greatest pairing I achieved this week was the pairing of my desire to explore and my use of French.
We ordered our food, asked for directions, called a cab, held a late-night conversation with neighbors to the homestay, all in French. I’m finding that I can communicate fairly well even when grammar slips away from me, and I’m alright with looking silly if it helps me learn. I downloaded a conjugations app which, along with the French Fullmetal Alchemist manga I’ve been reading, will compliment my coursework well. Speaking of, I moved up levels this week. Already, I have a lot to be grateful for.
On my last post I gave my first impressions of Tokyo the city. This time I’m going to go into what ICU campus life is like. And I guess the best place to start off would be the campus itself.
One of the main paths in the interior of ICU
By American standards, ICU has a rather small campus. You can walk nearly the entire perimeter in around 25 to 30 minutes. But despite this, ICU is the largest campus in the greater Tokyo area. The campus is also a stark contrast to the sprawling city in that it’s so incredibly green.
On any given day it’s common to see a flock of crows like this one
It really is calming to stroll around campus when the weather is more manageable. As you pass the many trees on the campus, you’re very likely to be bitten by mosquitoes, cawed at by crows, and distracted by the buzzing of cicadas. Of the three, I’m really only fond of the crows. During my first few days in Tokyo I really didn’t like the overgrown, somewhat empty, and small campus, but it has definitely grown on me.
The entrance to Ginkgo House
The dorm I live in took a little getting used to. The security system, power management, and trash disposal of all things were similar but strange enough to keep me confused for a few days. Our key cards are used to get into and out of our rooms, the floor we live on, and the dorm itself. They act as a way to check in and out, but ICU’s system is a little strange. If you don’t sign in with the key card, you can’t get out and vice versa. It is actually possible to lock yourself into your room or floor even if you have your key card with you. At first, this was pretty cumbersome, but I adjusted to it well enough.
Then there’s the trash… This is more of a general gripe for living in Japan rather than a specific attribute of ICU. Where we Americans have a simple two part disposal system (recycling and non-recycling) in Japan sorting trash is a bit more complex. You have four main categories: combustibles, non-combustibles, paper wastes, and PET bottles. In the first week I often stopped to ask myself “can I set this on fire?” And if the answer was no, I still had to decide whether the non-combustible material should be considered plaster or glass/metal. Weeks later, it’s less of a hassle, but just barely.
Ginkgo House trash cans. Yes, there are six of them.
The last and arguably most important part of ICU is the academic experience. Essentially, what’s it like to go to school here? The summer courses in Japanese program basically offers one large course centered around learning the Japanese language. Each week we cover new grammar points, improve our listening and reading skills, and learn new words as well as new… kanji.
Just some casual kanji practice. Nothing to see here.
Why does kanji get italicized? Glad you asked. Kanji is easily my least favorite part of the Japanese language. It is one of the three “alphabets” used in Japanese alongside hiragana and katakana. However, where hiragana and katakana are phonetically based like our alphabet, kanji is based on Chinese characters. This means that every symbol is essentially its own word… And there are over 5,000 of them. And unlike Chinese characters where each symbol has its own sound, Japanese kanji can have multiple sounds as well as multiple meanings… And we learn about twenty new kanji every three days. So. Much. Fun. To learn.
Outside of the detestable kanji I genuinely enjoy class. Grammar is fun and interesting to me, and I’m pretty proud of how far my reading and listening comprehension has come since the start of class. Probably the best part of class, however, is being able to interact with native Japanese speakers in new ways. Our teachers are knowledgeable, helpful, and amiable, and they often make it easy to approach them with questions. On top of all of the language study, the course also offers cultural activities for us to participate in. More on those wonderful experiences later.
So that’s ICU in a nutshell. I’ve touched on what I consider all of the major parts of living and studying at ICU. In the next post, I’m going to rave about the cultural activities I managed to go to through the University and how they’ve help my understanding of authentic Japanese culture grow. Until then, here are some bonus pictures of the campus:
When you walk past ICU’s main entrance, you’re greeted with this beautiful chapelThis is the “honkan” or main building where all summer classes are heldA small hill to the right of the honkanThe building on the left houses the post office, book store, and a cafeAnother swath of green on campus
Cologne is a city of many churches. The iconic Kölner Dom is world-famous and the instantly-recognizable center of the city. The city is literally built around Der Dom, and for good reason. It’s utterly massive and absolutely impressive. Pictures don’t do it justice.
Der Dom towers above the city square
It impressive from every angle, especially at night
Some friends from Switzerland and I in front of Der Dom
But Der Dom is hardly the only church in the city — it’s just the most famous one. There are twelve famous romanesque churches throughout the city. I’ve visited a few of them, and they are absolutely beautiful. There are also a number of more “ordinary” smaller churches and parishes throughout the city. Cologne boasts one of the highest percentages of church-goers in the country, both Catholic and Protestant. In exploring churches in Cologne, I made a point of visiting both the big and the small, the famous and the ordinary. And what better way to explore churches than by going to Mass?
It’s easy to feel small inside the massive Kölner Dom
I have found that there is a certain appeal to both types of churches, big and small. Mass in the massive (pun intended) Kölner Dom makes one feel miniscule and insignificant under the lofty roof and towering gothic pillars. It reminds me how small we humans are in comparison to God. At the same time, praying with the rest of the congregation in the large cathedral fills the empty space with something holy and unites us tiny humans to something bigger. Der Dom is an experience of big and small all at once.
The light through the stained-glass windows at Dreikönigen is gorgeous
Meanwhile, going to Mass at smaller churches where the locals tend to go has its appeal as well. They feel much more homey and comfortable. One of my favorite places to go has been Dreikönigen parish. There, I feel like I’m part of the community, united by faith to the native Kölsch. The variety of people, young and old, reminds me of the variety in the Church and brings the liturgical experience much closer to home.
Musik!
One of the coolest parts about going to Mass in Germany: the music! St. Augustine once said singing is like praying twice. Singing in a foreign language might be like singing three times, in that case! German liturgical music tends to rely heavily on the organ, which fills up the space and echoes beautifully throughout the church no matter its size. The Gotteslob books, pictured below, are the hymnals used in almost every church.
When it can be quite a task to understand the priest or figure out the meaning of the readings, music is a much more relaxing, powerful way to praise God and is always much easier to translate than other parts of the Mass. As it has been said, music is the universal language, and it mediates both prayer and learning a few new German words!
The organ in Der Dom is located high above the congregation
The Best Part: People
In addition to being a great way to pray and connect with God, going to church has also been a great way to connect with new people! Mass is as much of a social event in Germany as in the U.S. or anywhere else. I have enjoyed a few nice conversations with people I’ve met at Mass, and the sign of peace offers a liturgical moment to meet people in the surrounding area. The Eucharist is a sacrament that brings all sorts of people together, and that has rung true during my time in Cologne.
Outside of the liturgy, parishes are often the site of extra-curricular social events as well. In Dünnwald, the local parish was the center of the Dünnwalder Frühling festival. After Mass last weekend at Dreikönigen, a marching band performed on the church grounds in the celebration of a local parish group much like the Knights of Columbus in the U.S. Der Dom, as a tourist attraction, brings people from around the world together to catch a glimpse of the architectural wonder. Churches bring people together and are a great way to connect with the local community.
The main stage at Dünnwalder FrühlingThe band gets ready to perform after Mass at Dreikönigen
