SLA – Page 12 – SLA Profiles (2018)

Vivant Elephantes

Today we visited the Colosseum — or the Flavian Amphitheater, as I like to call it when I want to show off my knowledge of the fact that the word “Colosseum” really refers to the giant statue of Nero that used to stand on that spot.

Whatever the structure is called, today it played host to a deadly debate concerning this question: “Were the gladiatorial games good for the city of Rome?” There was only one complication: the debate was entirely in Latin.

Two people represented each class in this smackdown of Homeric proportions. I very much enjoyed helping to craft snappy phrases for my spokesmen condemning the atrocities of the gladiatorial games, but primarily I just felt honored to witness the battle of wits. Speakers skilled as Cicero, working entirely from memory or the inspiration of the Muses, vituperated and vilified and vied for glory. There was logos and there was unapologetic pathos; there were syllogisms and there were shameless ad hominem attacks. One of my favorite moments was when Rex compared Hibernia, whose name is derived from the Latin word for winter, to Elsa, the Disney queen with a frozen heart. My absolute favorite moment was when Peter was passionately painting a picture of a peaceful Rome only to be interrupted by a security guard who asked him why he was yelling, what language he was speaking, and if he was drunk.

We continued a debate even older than the venue we inhabited. Our orators interacted with the writers, thinkers and orators of the past, discussing Augustine’s moral condemnation of the gore of the games, Seneca’s stoic disdain for the mob, Virgil’s infernal discussion of what it means to be Roman, and Martial’s suggestion that virtue can be found in the viscera of the ring. Particularly moving was John’s narration of Pliny’s disgust at the slaughter of elephants in the Colosseum. By the end of his speech, we were all chanting “Vivant elephantes!”— “let the elephants live!” I’m sure the guard was not the only one who thought that we were drunk.

Though we had been assured that gelato awaited the victors of the debate and death awaited the conquered, the spoils went to all. We went as a group to Gelateria La Romana— as essential an experience for the modern visitor to Rome as the gladiatorial games for the ancient one. The gelato was preceded by a rollicking round of Latin karaoke. I particularly enjoyed the song adaptation “Quidni Me Voces?”— “Call Me Maybe.”

Today, as every day yet, reinforced my pride to be a part of this program and a fledgling member of the spoken Latin community (the Latinosphere, as my teacher calls it). I am blessed to be able to learn from and with these scholars so skilled in the Latin language, so passionate about its past and future, and so eager to share it.

Il secondo

Dear reader–

Last week, wanting more opportunities to practice my Italian, I asked the program director for advice. She had the perfect solution. She introduced me to an Italian woman who is taking English classes at Sant’Anna and who has been wanting an opportunity to practice her English. We have started meeting on a semi-regular basis just to talk, she in English and I in Italian, to help each other learn. This woman is not only a patient listener and good teacher, but also a very kind and interesting person. I could not have wished for a better opportunity to practice my Italian.

So, as you can see, I have made progress at finding more ways to immerse myself in the Italian language. Other small opportunities have also come along–for example, the chance to serve as an impromptu interpreter between my American peers and Italian shop owners. I’m still speaking more English than I would like, but the progress of this past week encourages me to keep forging ahead. Every unknown word in my literature classes reminds me that I still have a long way to go.

Meanwhile, Sorrento has begun to feel more and more familiar. It is a very small city, and everything is within 10-15 minutes walking distance. It has one large main street lined with shops and bars and cafes, as well as many narrow side streets. Pedestrians, motorscooters, and compact cars all vie for primacy at such close quarters as would give nightmares to the head of the American Traffic Safety Services Association (though I have not yet seen any accidents). There are many alleys, for example, that I would judge to be big enough for only one car at a time. The Italian drivers, apparently, do not agree with my judgement, since they use any old road as a two-lane speedway.

Even with the narrow streets and crowds of tourists, Sorrento is far from being an overwhelmingly busy city like New York or Rome. The residents describe it as “calm”, especially compared to other tourist hot-spots. I saw the truth of this when I visited the island of Capri last weekend. Capri is the place where the Kardashians and LeBron James vacation, which gives you some idea of both its popularity and its beauty.

There are several towns on the island of Capri: Anacapri (a more residential town, accessible only by a steep winding road), Marina Grande (the port), and Capri proper (which is filled with breathtaking clothes, breathtaking jewelry, and breathtaking prices). I visited all three of these towns, as well as the top of Monte Solaro, which provided panoramic views of the island and ocean.

The view of Capri from the summit of Monte Solaro

I also took a boat tour around the island, which sits on massive grey limestone cliffs above the bluest water I have ever seen.

Capri is famous for perfumes made from the flowers on the island, such as these

Small wonder that the richest of the rich want to visit here–as does everybody else, apparently. During tourist season (that is, now), Capri has 1200-1500 visitors every day. The crowds were intense, especially in the town of Capri proper. After a long day on Capri, Sorrento felt positively homey.

Sorrento, however, is not immune to the “tourist bug”. Every hundred yards or so on Sorrento’s main street, there is a shop overflowing with lemon paraphernalia.

Limoncello (a strong lemon liquor) comes in all shapes and sizes

You see, lemons are quite abundant in southern Italy, and have become so popular that they are almost synonymous with the region.

Some lemons here grow larger than grapefruits

These stores are essentially capitalizing on the natural attractions of Sorrento. Capri does the same. In fact, every tourist city does it. It’s how the money gets made.

This aspect of living in Italy–namely, trying to bottle it up and sell it–rubs me the wrong way. I feel like I’m being denied “real Italy”. However, I had an important realization this week. Tourism is a big part of “real Italy”. When I live in a tourist hub like Sorrento, I’m actually experiencing a substantial part of the modern Italian economy. My experience in Italy looks nothing like Italy of movies and novels; but then again, why should it?

This example brings me to what is perhaps the biggest theme of my trip so far: adjusting my expectations. I expected to be speaking Italian almost constantly. Now, I find that I have to search out opportunities to speak with Italians. I expected to be immersed in “real Italian life”. I am, but it looks very different than what I anticipated. The fact remains that Italy is a real place with real people, and I want to learn about their reality. That means getting over my expectations and learning to experience Italy as it really is.

I will keep searching for ways to dive into the language and culture here, and I will continue to keep you posted on my progress.

Living on the coast of Italy means that one can find some scrumptious seafood pastas

Until next time,

Beatrice

Fíodóireacht Traidisiúnta – Traditional Weaving

At the end of each week at Oideas Gael, each class presents a short skit or song about something they learned over the past week. Surprisingly, my favorite presentation last week was by the weaving class! In addition to language classes, Oideas Gael also includes classes in traditional Irish arts (such as harp-playing and, as I said, weaving).

I would not have expected to find traditional weaving interesting. When I first heard that there was a weaving class, I thought that the class sounded a little boring. I learned the basics of how to knit several years ago, but I always thought that the process was slow and unexciting. Yet the weavers’ presentation really piqued my interest and allowed me to appreciate the craft. What’s more, most of the presentation was in Irish, so it was exciting for me to learn to appreciate a craft primarily through the Irish language!

To start off the presentation, one of the managers at Oideas Gael introduced the weaving instructor to the class. He said that she represented the latest in a long line of weavers. Her family has been weaving for generations; the older generations pass down their knowledge to the younger ones, so the instructor’s knowledge of weaving truly represents age-old family wisdom on the craft.

Next, the weaving instructor came to the front of the room and, with the help of a student, showed us the raw materials of a weaver’s art. It all begins, of course, with sheep’s wool! Weavers take the raw wool off of the sheep and then brush it and shape it into the kind of woolen yarn you might see at a crafts store.

Finally, each member of the weaving class showed their creations to the crowd. Many of the weaving projects featured pictures and symbols related to the local town of Gleann Cholm Cille. The teacher explained that it is very common for traditional weavers to incorporate such local symbols into their creations.

My favorite weaving project was by a woman who wove several local natural objects into her weaving. She found a rock and some shells around the beaches and forest paths near Gleann Cholm Cille and then wove them in to the project to make a kind of abstract representation of the town. Overall, the weaving presentation helped me to understand the rich cultural significance behind a craft that I would have previously dismissed. Ach faraor… I am allergic to wool!

This is what a typical weaving project might look like.

Macaronics

Every week at Oideas Gael, we have a night of filíocht — poetry. I was particularly struck by a poem that our instructor read this week called “Cainteoir Dúchais,” or “Native Speaker.” The poet Cathal Ó Searcaigh pokes fun at the number of English words that have crept into the Irish language over the years. The poem begins:

“Bhí sé flat-out, a dúirt sé

i gcaitheamh na maidine.

Rinne sé an t-árasán a hooveráil,

na boscaí bruscair a jeyes-fluideáil,

an loo a harpickáil, an bath a vimeáil.”

The rest of the poem continues in a similar fashion, inserting Gaelicized English words in nearly all of the lines. Such a poem is called a macaronic — or bilingual — poem. I heard another macaronic poem recited last night at the local pub by one of the Oideas Gael students. He began reciting the poem “Micheál Bocht” (“Poor Michael”):

“I heard this story ó mo athair (from my father)

If you haven’t Gaelic it doesn’t matter

This rural Ireland tragic tale

Narrates a sad seductive scéal (story)

Concerning lust without discretion

Agus beagnach rudaí eile freisin (and almost everything else).

These poems are witty and entertaining, and I enjoyed listening to them. But they also bring up a rather serious issue that affects many Irish speakers. The instructor who read this poem aloud at Oideas Gael explained that he has mixed feelings about the proliferation of English words in the Irish language. On the one hand, a changing language signifies a living language. English itself gains a number of new words every year, and like nearly all languages, its syntax and grammatical structures are derived from other languages, both living and dead. On the other hand, however, the influx of Anglicisms into the Irish language can be a sensitive issue. English was originally a colonial language in Ireland, and since Irish speakers constitute a minority in the country, people worry that what may seem to be harmless word-borrowing may eventually contribute to the further decline of the language.

In my class on Irish Song and Spoken Word last semester, I learned about different Irish-language poets’ attitudes toward English. Some of them choose to write macaronic poems, or to have their poems translated into English. Others refuse to allow their poems to be translated and write exclusively in Irish. Since I am not from Ireland and did not grow up speaking Irish, I am not quite sure what I think about the matter. But it is interesting to compare different Irish-language poets’ work and attitudes toward the language.

To finish off, here are a couple of pictures from the last few days:

A map of Ireland by the local beach. Each county is made of some kind of rock or stone local to that particular area.

Post Program Reflections: Siena

My time in Siena was an incredible experience I will never forget. I learned so much about Italian culture, Italian language, and myself. The most important thing I learned about the language learning process was how important it is to continue to challenge yourself. “Learning” a new language isn’t hard, in fact, a lot of people take language classes in college to help boost their Resume or get an easy A. By this definition of “learning” I mean passing a language class and memorizing vocabulary and grammar rules. However, “learning” a language and actually speaking a language are two entirely different worlds. It’s easy to remember rules and identify grammar when you see it but to have to use those rules in practice is a lot harder. So this summer I sought to challenge myself. I spoke every chance I got in class, I read Italian books, and now I am currently seeking to continue to challenge myself so that I may maintain my language skills.
I completely and wholly recommend anyone interested in learning a new language to pursue the SLA grant. SLA is such a unique study abroad experience because (more often than not) you are traveling completely alone and experiencing a new country all by yourself. This pushes you to get out of your comfort zone and make new friends, have conversations with new people in a new language. I encountered a lot of American students in Siena who were studying abroad with a large group from their university and they were always together. In 6 months they still didn’t know a word of Italian, and this really broke my heart. Yes, it’s fun to travel with friends! But traveling with friends makes you comfortable with speaking English in a country in which you have an opportunity to learn something new!
The challenging part comes after my SLA experience. I now have to find ways in which I can continue to use the skills I learned abroad so that I don’t forget everything I learned. I plan on reading books in Italian, watching Italian movies, listening to Italian music and podcasts, and speak to whomever I can when I get the chance! I look forward to finding ways in which I can pursue Italian in my career and future. It is a beautiful country, culture and language and I look forward to returning in the near future.

Allez les bleus ! : Greetings from the country of football and fromage

A review of my first week in Tours, France

“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?” Charles de Gaulle

After a long flight from Chicago to Paris and a few more hours on the train from the airport, I found myself in the picturesque center of Tours (pronounced without the “s”). Severely exhausted yet eager to begin this adventure in France, I stepped off the train with heavy eyelids and heavy bags and made my way down the platform to meet my “host mom”, Chantal. She’s a tall, brunette woman with full curls and a warm smile who has invited me to live with her, her dog Luna, and her cat Mimi while I attend courses at the Institut de Touraine. The afternoon that followed gave an overview of the culture I would be immersed in over the next six weeks.

In a car just big enough for the both of us and my bags, we passed by the elaborate architecture of the town hall (l’hôtel de ville) and a pedestrian pathway protected from the sun by a canopy of trees. I’d noticed the summer heat as soon as I’d stepped off the plane, but now, being directly in the sun without the luxurious surplus of AC I knew in the states, the temperature really made itself known. It was hot (il faisait chaud). This was the first part of life in France I had to acclimate myself to. The French are used to the heatwave that passes through every summer and indoor cooling systems aren’t commonplace. An oscillating fan and an open window give some relief when indoors, but patience is the only way to get through the days of 90+ degrees Farenheit.

Nonetheless, the heat doesn’t seem to be an obstacle for the people of Tours. Pedestrians fill the streets and plazas to observe one of the most important events in France: the world cup (la coupe du monde). Sure, there’s also the Tour de France that’s getting started, but le foot takes precedence at this moment. When I arrived in Tours, Les Bleus had just won a match and the locals were decked out in their finest French flag capes accompanied by blue, white and red face paint. They then packed into cars and sounded their horns to announce the victory. This is celebratory sound-off is also common after marriages, according to Chantal… minus the sports paraphernalia.

To get to the point, the busy town of Tours has plenty of opportunities to engage in the French culture. I just have to step out of the apartment building and, voilà, there’s an open-air market where I can discuss with vendors and learn about the local produce (I’m mostly interested in the cheese, to be honest), I can attend mass at one of the many ancient churches nearby and hear

it all in French, or I can stroll over to one of the local parks and read a plaque detailing the several century history of the immense coniferous trees which are dispersed throughout the area. I don’t have to venture that far for a good lesson in French either. I’ve found that I’ve made the most progress in speaking and understanding French right at the dinner table.

Chantal and I usually spend about an hour and a half to two hours eating dinner, which is typical in a French home. Needless to say, we end up talking quite a bit. She’s hosted students for about 20 years, so she recounts some of her favorite stories of time passed with them and shares the lessons they learned while adjusting to the culture. These discussions have helped me to get immersed in the language outside of class and engage in relevant topics in France like politics, money and religion. I was a bit nervous to get into these faux pas subjects, but I was encouraged when I found myself able to express my opinions in another language. Apart from these denser topics, we’ll talk about how the day went, the recipe for the dinner we’re about the enjoy (my host mom is an excellent cook, by the way), or something

that Luna did that made Chantal laugh. My abilities in French are sufficient to get me through dinner without too much confusion, but I still have a lot to work on. I struggle with the gender of the words, my grammar needs some refreshing, and I can’t always compose a thought in French as quickly as the conversation moves. I’m planning on keeping a French journal, listening more frequently to radio stations like RFI or FranceInter, and conversing more with native French-speakers to help both my production and comprehension of French.

A VIEW OF THE BASILICA OF ST. MARTIN FROM THE INSTITUTE

An exciting day turned into an exciting week and I’m off to what I believe is a good start. I’ll be keeping myself busy with the classwork and preparing for the DELF B2 proficiency exam while I attempt to keep up with the other language supplements, but I’ll still make time to appreciate what the French culture has to offer. I’m looking forward to being here for the 14th of July, the national holiday of France, and I hear the fireworks display in Tours is especially impressive.

Until the next time (À la prochaine)!

Art!

I consider myself something of an art connoisseur. In the third grade I sculpted and painted a clay penguin, which was labeled as “satisfactory” by the teacher. I once received an A in a high school art history class. I could offer a convincing, and at least partially accurate, definition of the term “three-point perspective.” I mention these momentous accomplishments not to be braggadocious—though I can see how it would come off that way—but as an introduction to this blog post, which will focus on the art of this city.

In an effort to prove ourselves to be intellectual, several of my friends and I decided this week to go to a museum. And, after my suggestion of the BMW Museum was shot down for lack of intellectual rigor, we decided on the Neue Pinakothek, a renowned art museum here in Munich.

After several rooms of many paintings and even some sculptures, I found myself drawn to one painting in particular.

The painting of which I am writing was in the penultimate room of this museum. It was a seemingly insignificant painting. Large brush strokes. Simple colors. A commonplace subject.

It was a vase of sunflowers. I couldn’t figure out why I was so drawn to this specific piece of art. And then it hit me: sunflowers are one of my top 5 favorite kinds of flowers! Also the painter sounded kind of familiar. It was a Dutch fellow by the name of Vincent van Gogh. I sure hope he lived a long and happy life surrounded by people who appreciated his talent for painting!

The aforementioned painting of sunflowers

To offer a conclusion, I would like to mention my appreciation for the fact that a city like Munich offers many different kinds of fun and engagement, including but not limited to the following: intellectual, athletic, nightlife-related, and cultural.

In awe of the size of this painting, absolute unit

An Alternative 4th of July

The 4th of July is one of my favorite holidays. Not because of the American flag cakes; the ‘appropriate one time a year’ red, white, and blue bathing suit; or because of the red food coloring that turns every bland drink into a truly American beverage. But, because it is a day that I have always spent amongst friends and family, enjoying the heat at the beach together, not having a worry in the world (to appropriately quote Zac Brown Band). Thus, when I woke up on the 4th of July to the garbage truck at 6:00am outside my window, sweating from the mini heat wave that we’re all suffering through without air conditioning, my heart started to ache a little bit for home. Nonetheless I decided that I would take on my last community interaction task and spend the 4th of July striking up a riveting conversation about foreigner’s perceptions of the United States (if I can’t spend the 4th in America at least I can justify talking about it for the day!).

Posing questions on the United States, or really even telling anyone you’re from the United States, will frequently invite many questions on the political environment. More times than I can count I have been asked about President Trump from my friends and from any French person I meet. For a group of people who truly dislike everything about the American president, they also really love to talk about him. Thus, openly asking questions looking for perceptions was something I was a bit weary to do but, while we were all sitting after class having a coffee I decided to ask two of my friends, Anna and Lara, who are both from Switzerland. Lara (20 years old) and Anna (24 years old) both had the expected first response, a severe dislike for President Trump. Lara commented how the one question she always wants to ask Americans is “Why? How could he become president?”. She then brought up the political structure and voting process and thought that the Electoral College was a “stupid” way to vote and that having a popular vote, like Switzerland, was a much more logical system. Having been to the United States before she noted how unfortunate it was that Trump was president as she was in love with the natural beauty of the United States and the diversity of our landscapes and national parks but felt that she would not return until Trump was no longer in office. Anna, after having agreed with Lara throughout the discussion, piped in that she always dreamed of going to the United States (particularly Disney World- random, I know) but that she also would not go until Trump was not the president. After the topic of politics they started moving into a more cultural discussion. The Institute where we study has a fare share of American students and they started talking about the two different groups of Americans they observed and how they thought this applied to the larger country itself. The first group were those they described as being superficial. These were what they characterized as being the “stereotypical American” meaning they were in France to not actually learn French but to go out every night and drink because it is legal for them here (sidenote: the American drinking age is something they both thought was so bizarre). These Americans are loud and obnoxious and travel in a pact so to only stay with other Americans. The second group of Americans they commented on were those who had “their feet on the ground”. People who were here to actually learn, not only about France, but about other cultures as well. Though the stereotype of the loud, obnoxious American exists here, it’s interesting to me how this small group of people sets the precedent for such a large and diverse population of the United States. The final comment they made about America was how “developed” it was. They didn’t mean it in the sense that we were more industrially or educationally developed but that the United States will have things before everyone else does. For example, movies will come out in America and people in Switzerland will have to wait two more months to watch the same movie. They perceive the United States as setting a precedent for popculture and what is going to be the “next big thing”.

Later that night at dinner I continued the conversation with my host mother, Brigette, and her friend (both in their 60’s) who had come over for dinner. The conversation started very naturally as the friend was asking my host mother if her son, Mathias, was going to be joining us for dinner. She responded that no because he always eats in front of the computer. After the friend and her discussed this she turned to me and commented that “comme les Americains” (“like the Americans”). Slightly ‘offended’ I saw this as the perfect opportunity to continue my discussion of American perceptions. To her, she thought that all Americans sat in front of the television with their microwave meals and watched American series. The friend then commented that it was either our microwave meals or our McDonalds (this truly made me laugh because I opened the fridge the other day to find a BigMac). Basically, she culturally stereotyped all Americans into being a group of people who enjoy eating fast food and watching t.v. all day.

Really though I can’t blame her because as I was sitting there eating goat cheese and a baguette for the 50th day in a row all I really wanted to be doing was eating a hamburger laying in an air conditioned room!!

Reflections

My experience in Chile definitely reiterated to me the effectiveness of language acquisition in a fully immersive foreign environment. I saw myself challenged to take that extra step to engage with my community, host family, and other native Spanish speakers who I encountered in my journeys. I learned that one must take a more active role in order to utilize time abroad; in other words, I found that making conversation whenever possible, even just for a couple minutes, is much better than waiting to be approached by others. Some of my most meaningful conversations and exchanges occurred when I was quite uncomfortable, which shows that the process of putting oneself out there truly pays off in the long run. I saw that through such exchanges, I was able to reach all of the goals that I set out for myself.

Speaking holistically of my SLA experience, I can say that my view on the power of communication has been reinforced. For me, there is nothing more meaningful than the exchange of personal beliefs and cultural values through spoken word. Beyond my language acquisition, I had an amazing time exploring all that Chile has to offer. I feel for the most part that I used my free time wisely in that I planned trips with my friends to visit other parts of the country. In fact, my favorite place I visited, San Pedro de Atacama, resulted from tons of planning from my friends and me, and turned out to be one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. I would advise other travelers, especially recipients of the SLA Grant, to take advantages of the different geographical regions of the country through short weekend trips.

If there is one thing I learned from my travels in Chile, it is that I never want to stop traveling. I want to continue to develop and hone my Spanish-speaking skills through further travel and engagement with unique communities that will broaden my worldview. I would love to go back to South America and travel throughout the beautiful countries of the continent, conversing with native speakers to advance the process of language acquisition. I definitely would like to study abroad during my junior year to further shape my worldview and continue my development in the Spanish language. All in all, I want to keep traveling such that I can keep learning and bettering my language abilities and, ultimately, myself.

¿Qué Tal Salamanca?

¡Hola de España!

I have officially been in Spain for one week, and it has already been an extremely exciting and incredible experience. My initial excitement upon arriving slowly transformed into nervousness, as I realized my Spanish was much worse than I had been expecting. However, over the short course of one week, I’ve become more and more confident and less worried about making mistakes. While reading signs, menus, and understanding what is being said to me comes easily, actually conversing and speaking out loud still remains somewhat difficult, yet the more opportunities I have to interact with native speakers the better I am becoming.

Although I had initially signed up to live with a host family, there was an unexpected issue with the family I was assigned, and I have been placed in an apartment with six other girls. We are all from different countries, and it has been interesting to engage with peers who have completely different perspectives and experiences than I do. Despite the unexpected, last minute change, this has given me a group of friends to hang out with.

Each morning I attend classes for four hours, which focus on grammar, conversation, writing, and culture. My professors are extremely passionate and personable. This provides a foundation of information I am then able to take with me as I explore the city. During the first week I have gone out for tapas, spent time at the Plaza Mayor, watched the World Cup, tried various forms of jamón ibérico, visited the cathedral, and drank an inordinate amount of cafe con leche.

I also went to an arena and saw traditional bull fighting, which was an entirely new experience for me. For some reason I did not think they would actually kill the bull (I’m not sure why), so it was quite shocking when not only was the bull killed, but it was then brought all around the arena for everyone to look at. I am grateful I was able to attend something so far out of my normal sphere of activities, and learn more about a culture and its history in a different way than I normally could. I’m excited for what the next weeks will hold, and am intending to continue to experience all that I can while I’m here!