SIT Study Abroad NOW

Bali: Coming Home

(Jamison speaking) So it's over.  Wow.  I can't believe 4 months went by so fast.  Indonesia was a blast.  I ended up staying for a week after the program with a couple of my friends to visit Yogyakarta in Java, the island west of Bali.  Certainly a much different feel than Bali as there is a clear presence of Islam and the city feels bigger and busier with "becaks" (rickshaws) pedaling about.  I loved it--we saw a fantastic wayang kulit show, found fantastic batik paintings, and took a trip to Borobudur, the largest Buddhist monument in the world.  This was a highlight for me as it is up there with the 7 Wonders of the World as it is truly amazing. 

Coming back home on the 22nd of December was a long journey with a flight out of Denpasar, Bali to Hong Kong to Los Angeles and at last to Chicago.  Everyone has talked about reverse culture shock happening, and I guess it has to an extent.  I initially found everything back home really plush and people annoying for complaining so much.  When I think back to my homestay family in Bali and then look around my home environment I do feel a little guilty. 
The cold of Chicago has been a bit of a shock too.  I was sweating like crazy the day I left Bali and arrived home with my mom meeting me with my winter coat.  Adjusting to wearing shoes instead of flip flops everyday is interesting.  Going back to school for the Spring semester will be the big challenge I think as I've basically missed out on whatever has been happening on campus since May.  Hopefully all goes well.

I figured I'd do my final post with a list of thoughts and reflections on my experience. 

What I have learned:
-How to kind of speak Bahasa Indonesia
-rice tastes good with everything
-all about the traditional arts of Bali
-all about Indonesian culture
-all about ancestor worship in the highlands
-how to be low-maintenance
-how to bargain for all of life's activities
-you can pay $5USD for a decent hotel room
-you can really trust strangers (I've been invited into many of their houses for coffee and to meet their families)
-I still don't really know how to tie a sarong
-bemos are awesome
-black rice pudding and tempe blows my mind
-you can wear sandals 100% of the time
-it's ok to brush your teeth with tap water
-it's ok to bathe in river water
-it's better to eat at dirty-looking restaurants with customers than clean-looking ones that are empty.  It will save your stomach
-papaya and yellow watermelon are tasty
-always carry an umbrella during the rainy season
-stepping on a sea urchin would be a life disaster
it's more acceptable for two members of the same sex to hold hands walking down the street than two members of the opposite sex (but homosexuality isn't really acknowledged)
-bathing in hot water in a rare and precious experience
-how to wash all of my clothes by hand and that this was apparently an exciting event for my homestay family as everyone came into the bathroom to watch me scrubbing on the floor
-it is not important to be fashionable, however neatness is preferred
-instead of getting a cold or the flu in Bali you just get a lot diarrhea
-it's ok to play with stray dogs and cats
-it's usually ok to play with monkeys
-Bali has millions of chickens wandering down the streets
-fried bananas are actually pretty good
-how to farm a rice field
-how to weave a sarong
-arak (a strong palm wine) is nasty
-Bob Marley is too popular
-I love Bali!

What I was excited for coming home:
-seeing my family and friends (and cats)
-being able to drink tap water
-having a hot shower
-Western-style toilets
-not sweating all day long
-carbs other than rice
-snow (kind of)

What I miss:
-All the amazing Indonesians I met along the way over the past 4 months
-My homestay families in Munduk Pakel, Bedulu, and Sukawana
-Black rice pudding and tempe
-a more relaxed pace of life
-the beautiful Hindu temples and offerings around the island
-living on a chicken farm . . .
-the smell of incense everywhere
-program center parties/lunches/down-time
-the pantai and mountains
-Being able to bargain and 30 cents for a 15 minute bemo ride
-the most ridiculous TV shows (like Supermama) I have ever seen
-Indopop
-having it be socially acceptable to wear a sarong in public
-adorable Balinese children
-having people tell me I was really really good at Indonesian when I spoke one sentence
-the 7 girls, Katelyn, Bria, Slaveya, Margot, Nikki, Tammy, and Eliza who made Bali a blast!

Cheers!  I can't wait to go back!

-Jamison

Brazil: Finishing Up!

Oba minha gente!

Wow.  Today is officially the last day of the ISP period.  Which means that I finally have some time to sit down at a computer and write an update without thinking I should be writing my report! It has been about three weeks since my last update and so much has happened.

My time with the Landless Workers' Movement (MST) in the south of the state of Bahia was incredible.  I participated in a course for health coordinators from all over the region.  Great friendships were made, lots of interviews and notes taken, and I learned about a new and unique movement and the possibilities for change it is creating.

Vietnam: MMM...secret vietnamese ingredients!

i remember when i first arrived in viet nam how careful i was about certain things. should i drink the water that has ice in it? it could be unsanitary... i had to be on my toes!

well you know you've been in viet nam for awhile when these things disappear. for example, last night i was out with friends. as i was drinking water from my tea cup, i noticed a little critter swimming around. i pointed him out to my classmate amanda, who explained that he must have flown into the cup and was trying to stay afloat to preserve his own life. hmm...no this guy is definitely an aquatic organism -- as he was diving, backstroking and doing more swimming strokes than i've ever seen. after showing her his capabilities she agreed, surely he's a water bug. which means, where did he come from? maybe this water isn't so safe? so i scooped him out and finished my water. this isn't the first time either.

at lunch the other day, i was eating my rice with meat and veggies. it was pretty delicious and i was happy to have found a place close to campus since my bike was stolen by someone. as i lifted a bite to my mouth i noticed something unusual (unusually unusual, mind you). there was a little green inch worm extending off my lettuce leaf, as if he was trying, within his very restricted abilities, to inform me of his presence. "oh, hey little guy! i bet you don't like all that chili and sauce all over you". i decided to let that bite go and shoveled it onto the table, where he continued to struggle with the delicious ingredients he unluckily was doused in. i looked back at my plate and noticed another tainted piece of lettuce, this one had a hair on it. so i took that off my plate, too. then i finished my meal.

which reminds me of about a month ago when i ate at my favorite cari place (like curry, but sweeter). i was eating with my buddy brad. the waitress at this place has such an attitude, its hilarious -- its almost like you are inconveniencing her by placing an order, but i love the place anyways. the food is so delicious, but apparently the cook just had a haircut. its really gross when you get one long hair in your food, especially if you have to pull it out of your mouth. its not so bad if its a small hair. i don't know why this is, it just is. i don't know though, what about tons of small hairs? i can't even count all the hairs brad and i found in our food. but i finished my bowl of food. is that bad? maybe thats the line...maybe it's time for me to come home. i've started eating really ridiculous things. you name it i've eaten it. don't judge me. haha! i laugh at sanitary meals! wow, i really should return to working on my ISP...this is probably my last blog.

Vietnam: Night Life, Wild Life.

I'm currently staying in a guest house located in downtown Can Tho. 5 classmates and myself are staying in two rooms which are connected by a balcony. the balcony is my favorite part of our set-up; i love being able to be outside--even if its only a 2 ft wide ledge. we're located on the 3rd floor so when i look out the balcony i see the tops of some roofs and the sides of other buildings -- its definitely a city type setting. at about 11pm the other night, i was on the balcony talking with alex. while she was talking i heard a screech.

i continued listening, but my mind drifted as well, "what was that noise...too big to be a bat, although there are lots of bats...not a human..." i couldn't stop thinking about it. about 15 seconds later a white blur dipped from the sky about 15 yards away. my mouth dropped and eyes widened. two white owls with about a 4 ft wing span floated by, nearly 5 ft from me. the light from my room perfectly illuminated his body and as the first passed by he stared straight into my eyes. i have this image burned in my mind. time froze for a millisecond, just long enough to notice. when time resumed he was splitting the gap between my guest house and the building across the alley. i watched them continue on through the city. they were diving and screeching, most likely hunting amongst the plethora of bats. the feeling was surreal and quite possibly one of the most amazing wildlife experiences of my life. its so rare to see or even hear an owl, let alone have one fly by your face.

Panama: There is no fork.. but thanks for the parasol

We are always meeting people with different definitions of what is correct and what is incorrect; sometimes those people re-adjust our norms and sometimes they harden us into our ways of thinking, and these re-definitions can come disguised as anything.  I met a few yesterday.

 

Panama has a rather variegated population, and part of that population is an interesting sub-set of citizens of the U.S. whom were born here in Panamá, and some of whom have never even been "state-side".  They have a very interesting view of patriotism, and yesterday I found myself in a situation that might have been defined as upside-down.  One usually thinks of foreigners and tourists as those who come into a country and pollute it, and that the local populations are those which must clean up their environment after them.  But yesterday saw a French girl on vacation here in Panamá admonishing a set of Panamanians in English for littering their own beach; not for her sake as a tourist, but for their sake and for the sake of their children, who should be able to enjoy the same beach as them.  Later, when the Panamanians-USians heard of the debacle, they too were upset.  They regularly organize beach clean-ups with the local children.

Oman: Returning from Doha, Abu Dhabi, Dubai

Landing in Muscat, the environment looked quite similar to Dubai, especially when compared to flying in for the first time, when it looked to me like a settlement on the moon. The airport appeared small and familiar after Sharjah’s airport, the skyline miniscule compared to Dubai.

The familiar sight of Omani dishdasha and kuma, [the national dress: white robe and cap for men] and the friendly interest of the customs officers in our Arabic greetings and explanations of our homestay families differed greatly from the brusque Emirati customs agents. The Costa coffeeshop in the waiting area that once surprised me seemed tame in comparison to the commerical centers of the Emirates and Doha. The hustle and bustle in the parking lot paled to laziness in light of the frenetic energy in Dubai, and appeared quaint when I remember the silent desperation in the eyes of the Sharjah airport travelers. Or rather occupants, as they seemed to be; waiting to get anywhere other than where they had come from. My homestay mother picked up group of us in her minivan. Confusion and a U-turn as we are told to leave one of the SIT students, then return for her. Ah, back in Oman.

Czech Republic: An explanation

Let’s address the elephant in the room first: I have been a terrible blogger. Admitting that fact, I feel a bit bad about being irresponsible, and a bit guilty about depriving you of the possibility to enjoy these experiences with me, but I don’t really feel bad, because I have an excuse. My excuse is the room that the elephant’s in: I’m in Prague, on an amazing program, and I am enjoying every minute of it.

You’ve missed everything, really. I could try to describe my exultation when I completed my first restaurant interaction (from ordering to asking for clarification to paying) completely in Czech or the awe I felt when our literature professor described his junkyard job during Communism, the day I mastered public transportation and strolled through the Vysehrad castle grounds or the process of learning how to make dumplings with my host mom. It might be important for you to know that I never expected to even like Poland until I visited Krakow and learned that I loved it, and that alternative art spaces in Slovakia helped me discover new ways in which community and art are connected to politics and history.

Brazil: New Places

I always find it amazing how quick one can adapt and feel at home in a new place.  Having spent the past five days in an 'assentamento' of the Landless Peasant Movement (MST) I have become accoustumed to rural life; simple jobs to be done, no way to get lost and all friendly and familiar faces.  Right now I am in the city of Vitória da Conquista with busy streets, loud buses and advertisements on all available wall space.  It's quite the change.  The past two weeks have been full of change of places as well, but in each location I was able to stay long enough to gain a certain familiarity.

We left Salvador as a group in late October and had a good time 'de passeios' (touring) in the area of Ilheus visiting an eco-park, learning about indigenous healthcare systems and ways of knowing, as well as finalizing our ISP project proposals.  We then split into 3 groups and went to different cities/small towns to learn about various aspects of the Brazilian health system.  With 5 others I got to know the Family Health Program of the town of Itacaré.  We walked the neighborhoods with community health agents, traveled with canine vaccine programs, and observed doctors in the hospital.  We also had a few days (and most evenings) to explore the beaches of the area.  The independence of our time was a good introduction into our ISP work.  I left Itacaré feeling like I had begun to get to know the community.  3 students stayed in the community to do their research and will of course know the town better then I.

Now I'm on my ISP taking pages of notes, interviewing and beginning to get to know and feel at home in a new place.  I hope to write another update in the next few weeks. 

Until then, Até logo!

Crister

Bali: Ancestor Worship in Sukawana

Hello again.  It's Jamison.

So ISP time has begun.  This means I have made the journey to central Bali to the 800- person village of Sukawana to study the culture of the Bali Aga/Bali Mula (the "mountain" or "original" Balinese).  It's a quiet place except for the traffic along the main road of people passing through on their way north or south.  Tourists like to take a pit stop here to get a breath of cool air and see the temple down the road, Pura Pucak Penulisan.  I've even seen a few outside of my kitchen taking pictures of the landscape below.

 No doubt this view blows my mind.  I'm fairly certain there is a sentence in Lonely Planet that a great view can be seen from exactly where I'm living.  The three highest mountains in Bali, Batur, Adeng, and Agung are aligned perfectly with Lake Batur in their midst.  And on clear mornings I can see the city of Singaraja and the island of Lombok hundreds of miles away!

Of course this beauty means I'm freezing once the sun sets.  I never thought I'd be wearing sweaters and socks in Bali.

But now to the point of this post: what am I doing in Sukawana? 

Tanzania: Language Barrier Sangwuage Smarrier

Early this morning I slammed unabashedly into the language barrier. After waking to the swish-swish of a straw broom across my host family’s concrete floor I climbed out from underneath my requisite mosquito net and was ready to tackle the day. Within minutes my room was swarming with my host family members; sisters, aunts, and grandmas flooded in and out until I was ready to go to the oil distillery for today’s work.

A few quick goodbyes and we were on the way. I thought my host aunt and grandma were just walking me the 200 meters or so to the road where I would catch a dhalla dhalla (bus). As we were walking my host aunt asked, “Ninapenda mumble-mumble bicycle?” Which I though was, “Do you like to ride bicycles?” However, the mumble-mumble part that I didn’t catch involved the word “motor.” Reason number one never to say you like something when you’re not clear on what has been said to you (this can also lead to eating fish heads cooked in their own blood, but that’s a whole new story).

Vietnam:Ranh Ma!

I'm a bit behind on my blogging, but to be honest I've tried several times to post something always running into problems with the typepad website or the shabby computer I'm using. Anyways, I'm back in Can Tho after a 3-week long trip to Cambodia and Northern Viet Nam. That all is another story, which I'll maybe post later -- who knows? I will be leaving for Tram Chim National Park in Dong Thap province on Wednesday at 6am, so my visit here is short and sweet. It really is sweet, too, Can Tho is probably the best city I've been since my arrival in SE Asia. It's the perfect size, not too big and not too small; on another note I hope its growth doesn't lead it to become more like its big city sisters like Saigon and Hanoi. No matter where I've been in the last few months I've felt like somewhat of a celebrity. Walking down the street people want to stop and talk with you or maybe just stare at you until their head can't turn any further. The difference between Can Tho and the other cities is that here everyone is curious about who you are and what you are doing, wanting to build a friendship with you. In other cities its always "Hello, motorcycle!" or "Hello Sir, buy something!" -- I feel like a good amount of my conversations outside of Can Tho have been slightly superficial or based on a market transaction. Which is too bad. Wow, I've really digressed, let me tell you a story.

So, I returned to Can Tho and decided to head back to my homestay family rather than shack up at a hotel. When I called the house, Minh Nho answered the phone and when I said (in vietnamese - which is increasingly better) that I was back in town, his reply was "Yes!!" I immediately felt like returning to the house for a day or two was the right decision.

Bali: Indepndent Study Project in Bona Begins...

This is Nikki again!  I'm with my friend Eliza at an internet cafe in Ubud about to register for classes for next semester in the States. Crazy to think about how fast this semester is flying by!!  I'd like to thank Jamison for putting up some brilliant photos and talking about all we've been doing up until now.  It's wonderful and almost impossible to explain everything we've seen and experienced-- his synopsis is awesome. 

This is what I've been up to lately...

After a weekend of visiting Nusa Lembongan which involved:
- braving a storm on the roof of a boat - riding bikes all over the island with my friends Tammy and Evan
- watching the sunset and eating mie goreng during a production meeting with Eliza (we're producing a theater piece with our friend Slaveya as part of out ISP)
- sending out an offering into the sea for Hari Sariswati ( Saraswati is the Hindu goddess of education )
- and making friends with a puppy that we named Ralph that followed us and slept outside our door two nights in a row.

Bali: Wonder what it looks like?

This is the magic from Jamison's camera. 

Here is a little visit to Goa Gajah (Elepahant Caves) my bapak took me on so as the bond over our archaeology interest.  Who knew Bali was a gold mine of ancient sites and temples?

A fruit seller in the mountain town of Bedugual.  It borders misty Lake Bratan and has the dozens of strawberry vendors.  I've had mangoes and papayas that have changed my life in Bali.

Bali: Field trips around the country!

So, in order to save the Bali blog which, until now, has been lacking in presence, a couple of us on the program with Nikki (Pamela Calonge) decided to step in while her hair grows back.

With that, let's begin!  My name is Jamison Liang and I am from Chicago, IL but can usually be found studying art at Washington University in St. Louis in my junior year while majoring in Art History & Archaeology.  I came to Bali due to my intense interest in Southeast Asian Art and have certainly not been disappointed.

What can I say to sum up the last two months in Bali?  Hmm.
Perhaps it might be best to make a list of highlights...

Oman: The Falaj Irrigation System Jabal Akhdar (Green Mountain)

Just a photo this time--we have one day in Muscat after our week in rural Nizwa before we leave for a week in Dubai, Abu Dhabi (the UAE) and Doha, (Qatar). The excursion is ostensily to compare Oman to other Gulf countries, as well as tour Al-Jazeera and enjoy/shudder at Dubai's cash crop: malls and tourist attractions. It will be a bit of a shock perhaps after a week spent eating 5 daily meals of fruit, dates and coffee, sitting on the floor exercising our Arabic muscles, watching a ram be slaughtered in the back yard in preparation for the marriage of my eighteen year-old homestay sister. Will report back with an analysis of this quick transition, insha'allah, because when we get back our ISP period begins and we should have more time.

Balkans: Symbiosis, Symbolism, and Sarajevo

At times, I’ve been pretty frustrated with the program. I came here with a pretty clear idea of where and what I would study. I’m a literature student, with an interest in Sarajevo. The heavy focus on gender studies, LGBTIQ issues, and political theory, has, at times, left me feeling both overwhelmed and unfocused. I’m not sure when exactly it happened, maybe some where in between Belgrade and Ivo Andric’s Bridge Over the River Drina, but I began to detect a method to the madness. We watched Grbavica  last week, and I noticed the things that I’m picking up, that I would have missed before I came here. While I grumpily plodded through the early goings, full of frustrations about three hour historically based lectures, I am beginning to see dividends.

            

And finally, here I am, studying what I thought I would study, in the place I planned to study it, and everything seems somehow different. The bus ride was quite a profound experience. And while one could easily attribute that to the stomach churning seven and a half hour bus ride through winding mountain passes, it was traveling though the Republika Srpska that was really stunning.

Panama: Not Just Hot Air

Every country has its own local superstitions and traditions, and one of the first ones we heard about in Panamá was the phenomenon of pasmos. A pasmo happens when you go from an area that is really hot, such as outside, to an area that is really cold, such as a super air-conditioned department store.  The blood vessels in your face constrict and your face twists; people need to get physical therapy to get rid of them. The other local belief is that if you are out in the rain, you will automatically get sick. One Panamanian explained to us that they were physically more susceptible to it than us, that we could stand to get wet while they really couldn’t.

While we were learning about these local beliefs, we were also traveling around the country, and we finally got to see what, in my mind, was a tropical rain forest. Yes, we had been seeing all sorts of rain forests here in Panamá- from wet tropical to semi-dry to dry tropical- and they all certainly looked green and leafy and humid- but the forest that truly fulfilled my mental vision of a tropical rain forest was in Chiriquí, in the mountains, and it was a tropical cloud forest. It had it all- moss on all of the trees, vines, vines, and more vines, the colorful flowers; (It’s the wrong season right now to see many flowers in the lower altitude forests.) we even got to see a quetzal.

Brazil: Noticias do Brasil!

An Update from Brazil! It’s hard to believe that we are already finishing up with the month of October! Things have really been speeding up in our program. The end of our official Portuguese lessons, seminar course, family home-stays and the beginning of our village studies and Independent Study Projects have all come about at once! 

The whole group seems excited about these changes the new experiences to come. The weather is getting much hotter as we move into summer and the days are getting a little bit longer allowing for an evening swim after classes and a not-to-be-missed pôr do sol (sunset) at the lighthouse.  Speaking of beautiful sunsets, we spent a great three days on an excursion to Ilha de Maré, an island in the Bahia de Todos os Santos (Bay of all the Saints), where the family of Damiana our Academic Director is from. On the small island, only 7,000 residents in 6 or 7 villages, we had a firsthand view into the healthcare system of Brazil.

Oman: Excursion to the Desert and Turtle Nesting Grounds

Exhausted, bruised, slightly sunburned, sand lingering in ears and toes even after a long shower (although Oman has issues with water sustainability, water is cheap and apparently abundant, therefore very little water conservation is actually practiced or encouraged. Though this does not excuse my long shower, I wanted to put it in context)...this is how one should return from a vacation.

Am still smiling after three magical days, one of which happened to be my 22nd birthday, though the day was so wonderful that I hardly remembered, and only when I was lying under a wool blanket beneath the desert stars could I go through my usual birthday soul-search.
The group traveled by SUV to Wahiba Sands, a beautiful area of the Omani desert, home to Bedouin who earn money by allowing tourists to come to their camps and selling them keychains and woven mats. After visiting a Bedouin family, (more on this and the effects of tourism on the Bedouin lifestyle later), we arrived at the desert camp, (full of Dutch tourists). Leaving our stuff in tents covered with date palm fronds, (another gimmick, but still more aesthetic than the plastic tarps underneath), some of us climbed the tallest dune to watch the sunset, then ran/slid/rolled down to smoke shisha around the campfire and talk politics with our lecturer for the next day.

Netherlands: Turkish Homestay

I was on the bus today on the way back from class, thinking about this blog and the entry on my homestay experience that I need to put down, and I don't know how I can do these people justice with a few short paragraphs and picture or two. A tight-knit, lower-middle class non-English speaking family of devout Muslims essentially adopted me, a western, liberal-minded student who just showed up on their doorstep one day. Not just the family I was assigned to, the ENTIRE extended family. I was kissed and hugged and called sister and daughter by seven different sets of parents and siblings. It is one of those experiences that affirms your faith in humanity and the goodness of people, and can only really be understood by doing it yourself (That's not to discourage you from reading my entry, of course).

I had done a homestay when I was fifteen with a family in Strasbourg, France, so I wasn't going into it totally blind. I had some expectation for the awkwardness of first living together, the moment where you break that and begin to form relationships, the loneliness of being in an isolated situation for an extended period of time, and even the difficulty of a language barrier. Didn't matter, though. This experience was so new and different from anything I had ever done that having expectations didn't stop any of the things that happened from hitting me like a ton of bricks. That's the thing about generalities--they're totally useless except to give you very vague, usually ill-placed preconceptions. They aren't the meat, the reality of anything. You learn from the particulars, and it's the particulars that stick in your heart.

Oman: Eid!

Little girls go begging for "Eid-ia"; trick-or-treating for money during the three days of Eid al-Iftar, the party at the end of Ramadhan.

 

 

 

Our families made sure we were decked out in our best as well. Charlie wears the national dress,  dishdasha (robe) and kuma (cap), while Heather wears a custom made jalibia. I am the only one in non-Omani wear; as long as it's new and pretty, it passes.

Brazil: A Visit to GAPA

Hello from Brazil!  It has been a whirlwind last few weeks, which means I haven't been updating this weblog at all.  Everything goes well here.  We are well into the semester now and are finishing up the last few weeks of Portuguese classes and everyone is working away on their Independent Study Project (ISP) research. 

I just wanted to share a really neat visit we had to an organization called GAPA (Grupo de Apoio a Prevencao de AIDS da Bahia--roughly translated as the Support Group for the Prevention of AIDS in Bahia). 

Balkans: Swimming in October and missing the playoffs

By Ethan Bresner

To all my faithful fans, I apologize for my long absence (all four of you). Life has been busy. Over the last few weeks, I have been to Pulla, Rovinj, Slovenia twice, and Žminj. I suppose the problem with long absences, is that at this point it would be epic to describe my observations and experiences. But here goes.

It’s funny how the things that start as terrifying can become so wonderful. When I was preparing to leave in August, and even through the first few weeks, I was terrified of my potential (and later, actual) host-family. Now, my host father and mother are awesome. And short of fearing for my increasingly clogged arteries and bloated stomach, they really have never been that scary. In all honesty, I think they were as scared of me as I was of them. Croatian hospitality is truly amazing.

Vietnam: Sliced in a Shrimp Pond & Stiched-Up in Saigon

By Jacob Smithers

The last couple days I've been in Can Gio, which is a national wetland bioreserve. The province consists of mainly mangroves; people live within the park and sign contracts to abide by the regulations. We stayed in a pretty classy resort on the ocean. Yesterday we visited a mangrove shrimp farm. There are three kinds of shrimp farms, natural mangrove, semi intensive, and intensive -- the latter being man-made plastic ponds which unnaturally feed the shrimp, etc.

Well after lunch we decided to go for a dip in the shrimp "pond" -- the farm lies on about 80 hectares, 36 of which are netted off for shrimp farming, thus pond doesn't illustrate the setting properly. The water was a nice temperature compared to the muggy air, a storm was fixing itself up for an entry and the air seemed thick...looking out into the twists of the mangrove pond was almost mysterious. The view wasn't the only mystery in the pond; besides the shrimp and fish brushing against my legs there were other hidden obstacles. As the storm approached we retreated to the shore and about 25 meters from the muddy edge my flipper-like feet struck one such painful mystery. I'm now privy to the fact that it was concrete with oyster shells embedded in it to help the concrete stick together -- the shells stick out like razors. I knew I had cut myself, but was unaware of what I was dealing with -- only that my skin was flapping to and fro in the water. As I got to the bank, one of the girls playfully jumped on my back which I wasn't thrilled about, and after tossing her aside I struggled to ascend the mucky embankment. This was when I realized my cut wasn't a scrape. I pulled myself up to the path by grabbing onto a log, and had a looksy -- I was now endowed with what looked like a fish gill from the top to the bottom of my right big toe.

Panama: Simplify, simplify.

By Soizic Zeigler

You don´t need it.

"wow, kid, your bag is heavy" I remember my dad saying when he lifted my pack into the car for the trip to the airport that would eventually get me to Panamá.  And I remember reminding him of the difference between that bag and what we would normally be putting into the car for a normal semester at school.  I remember how much time it took to carefully sort out what I did and didn't need, what I could or could not bring. I remember removing things, "thinning" the luggage.  I was rather proud of the final results.  I had already spent the summer living out of that same pack, and I thought I had been even more efficient  packing for this set of three months than I had for the three months of summer.  I was proud of myself.

Now, we are packing for our 6 week trip through Panamá's interior, and I found myself once again sorting, thinning. I found myself wondering how on earth I had brought this much stuff to begin with, I found myself trying to figure out what I could leave here when I finally go home.  I found myself trying to figure out what I could do when I got home to simplify what had there.  And I just spent a week this summer cleaning out my room and getting rid of what I thought was unneeded.  Those norms are being redefined every passing day here in Panamá.   

Tanzania: Ride of a Lifetime!

By Charlee Doom

What a rollercoaster the last two weeks have been! Leaving Zanzibar on September 26, we took a ferry into Dar es Salaam (fortunately it was a very uneventful ride).  As we trotted off the boat we were immediately overcome with street peddlers, known as Machinga, who were selling everything from cashews and bananas, to coat racks and mops.  This theme continued for our entire Dar excursion.  Walking and riding buses to and from school, the Machinga were with us every step of the journey, never relenting or tiring despite a lack of patronage from our group. We fought our way through the peddlers and headed for the Rombo Hotel to drop off our things and head to the class.

We attended a week long lecture series at the University of Dar.  It was a welcome feeling to walk across a college campus unnoticed.  The idea of anonymity had been elusive until our inaugural march to the Zoology Building.  Everywhere else we have been we are recognized as Mzungu, or white people, and tourists. I would liken it to being a celebrity with absolutely no privacy. Locals call out to us, greet us in broken English and challenge us to speak Swahili. But at the University, we just assimilated into the student population. There, our lectures topics included Environmental Law and Policy, Biodiversity, Pollution, Tanzanian History, and Primary and Secondary Production in Coastal Waters.

Netherlands: Field trips!

By Meredith Wilson

We've been on kind of an academic break for the past month, leaving our Dutch lessons and two-a-day lectures in the dust for some traveling around Western Europe and Turkey.

Our first stop was Antwerp, in Belgium, home of Omar the Zen Master (read: academic director). We looked at the different ethnic, cultural and religious groups that for some unknown reason, live together with very little conflict or tension. We worked with the Atlas group, which fosters dialogue between ethnic groups and acts as an advocate for minorities in the local government. Brian - another student - is actually planning on working with them for his independent study, maybe to try and figure out why all those different groups can coexist in Antwerp but not in other places.

Vietnam: Traipsing Through Tram Chim

By Jacob Smithers

On Wednesday September 19^th we left for Tram Chim National Park. The park embodies over 7,000 hectares of protected wetland wonder. Within the park birds, fish, and insects run amok – flapping, flopping, and whatever the hell bugs do. This place is unlike any national park found in the United States (which qualifies as my previous park experience). There are 50 rangers manning the mass of marshy goodness, which is very few. Maybe because the pay is ridiculously low? Maybe because there are many bugs that bid to bite? Nay! None of these are good enough reasons to deter someone from wanting to work or spend time at Tram Chim – the fun to be had in Tram Chim goes unmatched, and the rangers are half the fun!

We left Can Tho and after 3 hours of constant, dare I say incessant, honking, swerving, and nail-biting adventure we arrived, to my surprise, at a guest house bordering the park. I tend to keep myself somewhat in the dark as to what our precise plans are; not only does it make things more exciting, but I don’t have preconceived notions to deal with regarding my latest experience. Anyways, we’re at the guest house and we sit through some lectures about the park, meet a few of the 40 out-of-park employees (managers, office workers, and the like), and eventually make our way to the water where we will aim our canoes in the direction of Tram Chim National Park. We have field work to do, and although none of us know what this entails, we are all very excited. On our delicious boat ride through the canals of the park I begin to spot different birds, a water snake here and there, and maybe even an excited rat bounding with glee into a rice field (there goes dinner!).

Oman: The Good, the Bad, the Unexpected

By Annelle Sheline

Things I Thought Would Be Hard to Get Used To and Aren’t:

• Covering My Head— I usually wear a hat when I go outside in the sun at home anyway. And that becomes ten times more important here: when you go outside the sun feels dangerous. Or it does to me, imagining that I were to walk off into the brush without water or skin protection, I’d be dead within hours.

• Toilet Customs—i.e. washing one’s own underwear each evening and using water instead of toilet paper. Apparently, underwear cleaning is considered something one deals with privately. The second involves using your left hand to wash yourself with the hose that sits to the right of every toilet in Oman--except the one in the American embassy. It looks like the sprayers that usually accompany kitchen sinks in the States. After getting used to washing myself, I wonder what it will be like to go back home. And I wonder how disgusting Omanis must find the whole toilet paper business. Also, it helps with remembering the “Don’t use your left hand to greet anyone or eat anything” rule. Because if this were only arbitrarily imposed I wouldn’t remember. This way I think I carry bodily memory of it.

• The heat—I grew up in North Carolina. Living here we have the same mentality and behavior as any North Carolina summer (stay inside, live in air-conditioning). The temperatures are just a bit higher here. I think it helps that it is in Celsius so I cannot tell as readily what the actual temperature is, just a rough guess.

Panama: My Feet are Black

By Soizic Zeigler

“oogs…sabes? Como botas… de piel…para llevar…en Maine se llevan los oogs?”

oogs?

oh.

Uggs.

Such was the subject of a conversation had with a few Panamanian acquaintances Nolan and I made at the beach at el Palmar this past Sunday. After spending some time laughing at the thought of Panamanians wearing leather boots in their hot, humid, tropical climate (only at night, to go out, they told us), we were also informed that Britney Spears was cool until she shaved her head, and were shown some magazine pictures of a singer who looked amazingly like Kirsten Dunst, but wasn’t her.

There are two sides to this story. The first is that a citizen of the United States may have a hard time getting away from home. Panamanians put processed cultured cheese food, aka American cheese o queso amarillo, on their sandwiches. Their cars, which they leave parked in front of homes and bars with the doors wide open and the stereo on, are blasting Akon. And apparently, some Panamanians will spend between 80 to 100 dollars on a pair of leather Uggs to wear out in tropical weather.

Tanzania: Can't Carry a Tune in a Bucket Shower

By Charlee Doom

Have you ever had a wax?  Maybe your eyebrows? Possibly your legs?  If you have, then you know there is considerable discomfort and pain involved (for the men out there, I recommend just giving it a shot so you can empathize with the women in your lives).  As I prepared for my African journey, I rejoiced at the idea of avoiding any of the bodily pain associated with staying "well-groomed" that would be expected in the United States.

That was my first mistake.  Leaving my waterless shampoo at home was the second.  As we moved into our homestays on Unguja Island in Zanzibar, I was greeted by the realization that I would be showering/bathing in a bucket for the next two weeks.  At first I tried to be positive and cite all of the positives that would come out of this situation.  The list was VERY short.

Brazil: Balé Foclórico!

By Crister Brady

Last weekend we had the opportunity to see one of the most exciting and moving performances ever. The Balé Foclórico is a representation of Bahian stories and the candomblé religion through dance. We witnessed some of the amazing acrobatics found in the regional style of capoeira and the rowdy and fun ‘samba de roda.’ The whole act was memorizing; held in an intimate theater on a side street in the Pelourinho district, there was a real connection made between the audience and dancers. 

My fellow SIT students describe it better than I can.  “It was fascinating visually. A great fusion of movement and sound.” “There wasn’t enough time to clap!...[this shows that] they weren’t showing, but doing.”  “A very personal setting. We could feel the heat from the dancers and the vibrations of their jumps.” ”  “I was spiritually moved…almost cried.”

The photo is of Naomi Rennard with a few of the dancers.  Please check out the website for some amazing photos and histories.

Tanzania: What's in a name?

By Charlee Doom

A quick note on names.  A couple days ago we were baptized by Almasi(one of our Kiswahili teachers) with our new Swahili names.  Aside from being really unique (and challenging to say properly), these new names will be extra helpful in our homestays. 

So you are probably wondering what my new name is?  Jina langu ni Naima! My name is Naima (pronounced Nahemah).  I am still on a quest to find out if there is a meaning behind it or if it is just a name.  I'll admit that it is difficult to get used to not hearing my real name, and even harder to actually respond to someone that is calling me. 

Oman: Best Advice from the A.D. on Homestays

By Annelle Sheline

Today (Friday, September 14) is the second day of Ramadhan. My host-sisters have told me that after the first few days, we won’t even notice that we are fasting. But yesterday and today have been tough. Hunger is not the problem—the hard part is not being able to drink water. And yesterday and today have been the weekend, Thursday and Friday. It will be harder tomorrow when we have to wake up at 3:30am to eat and drink before the call to prayer at sunrise, the Sala’ta al-Fijr. (fijr=dawn) and then go on to a full day of school.

Yesterday and today we were able to go back to sleep for most of the morning, leaving only the afternoon to wait for wakat al-iftar, “the time of breaking the fast”. This evening we will go to open our fast with my host mother’s family. “We” consists of my host mother, five siblings and I, as well as another of the SIT students who is staying with us because her host family, the grandmother and aunt of my siblings, are out of town. We will leave in two hours, shortly before the sunset call to prayer Sala’ta al-Magreb (magreb=evening), and I can’t wait. So I am trying to distract myself.

 

Oman: Orientation Week Catch Up

By Annelle Sheline

I apologize; this entry will try to catch up all the back-ground information and a bit about the first week. But I will be jumping all over the place. Bear with me and please post questions if something does not make sense. Even if it does make sense, post questions anyway.

I arrived in Muscat, Oman on the evening of September 1^st. The rest of the group arrived two hours later. Our Academic Director, Dr. Elizabeth Langston, had arranged for drivers to take us to our hotel in Mutrah, an area near the old city of Muscat, on the far eastern edge of Muscat’s current borders.

For the few days of our Orientation Week we had a few drop-offs, visited the Grand Mosque, and Sultan Qaboos University. For the first drop-off we explored Mutrah Souk, a traditional souk or market of covered stalls to find, buy, and bring back articles we thought the rest of the SIT students would not recognize. I found teeth-cleaning sticks to be chewed on, and a flat round comb, (this has come in handy for my hair, which has a tendency to escape from under my headscarf, as it is too short to be pinned back).

Czech Republic: Czeching it out

By Claire Herman

Today I realized for the first time how Czech I feel already. I was in a souvenir shop buying postcards, and I felt slightly offended when the shopkeeper thought that I was a tourist J. I realize how silly that sounds after only two weeks, but after spending the whole time immersed in the language and culture, I really think I’m starting to get it.

...And every day I realize what an amazing place Prague is to “get.” It’s such a beautiful city, and so frequently beautiful, yet its beauty still manages to always surprise me. (So much so that I apparently produce incomprehensible sentences.) Let me try to explain...

One of my favorite parts of this experience thus far has been my stay with my host family. I moved in a week ago, and I intend to stay for several months, so needless to say I was afraid of being a bit of a burden. I quickly learned that this apprehension was completely misplaced. My host family here is so welcoming and comfortable that I felt at home right away. I have two parents, Elena and Jan, and a host brother, Simon, who is 16 years old. My own family is very similar (my brother is 19), and it’s been neat to see how relationships and interactions translate and/or are copied exactly in another culture. The family has shown me how to get groceries, how to use the bus, and where to go if I need to buy new socks.

Vietnam: Soaked & Sunburnt in Soc Trang

By Jacob Smithers

Field trips for the Vietnam program are among the greatest things yet. It's great to explore the diverse environments of the area. We recently trekked to Soc Trang, a province located downriver from Can Tho. Here's one day's adventure:

People in this village wake up at 4:30 am. So waking up from my slumber on the laminate floor wasn’t too disappointing.  I awoke and went for a walk to gather my thoughts and a bit of energy. I enjoyed witnessing local morning activities and seeing people from the previous day.

When I returned everyone was sitting down to breakfast  -- my two Vietnamese addictions were at hand, ca phe and pho! My body was revitalized with delicious soup and coffee preparing me for the day. 

We embarked on a canoe-like boat with the most ancient motor I’ve ever seen in my life. Imagine the loudest, ugliest, dirtiest motor attached to a pole of about 10 ft in length with a propeller on the end. The contraption is hand operated and the rudder is directed with the nimble feet of a spry Vietnamese man.

Panama: From inside a volcano

By Soizic Zeigler

We had internet access for a brief, shining night after our arrival in Panama city Sept. 4, just about long enough to send a couple reassuring emails,and check facebook before leaving for el Valle de Anton, which to some Panamanians is a weekend retreat, but for us was an introduction to Panama the way that I, for one, had imagined it: the trees, the rain, the brilliant flowers, the animals; everything fit into my expections of jungle... Nevermind the delicious food, comfortable beds and cheery German owner of the hotel in which we were staying.

As a note before I continue, "us" refers to: Emily "Emilia", Lindsay, Nolan, Gillian, AJ, Kate, Emily "Emy" and myself.

This notion of Panama as un sueño verde was only reinforced when we were sent off in twos to explore el Valle´s tresures. Geothermal springs, pre-columbian painted stones, waterfalls, a zoo, el Valle had it all.

Balkans: Miiirko Crooo Copppp!

By Ethan Bresner

Bog!

I know I just posted a few days ago, but after a weekend with my new host family, I'm full of cultural experiences to share. After our 'host-family dinner', my new host brother, Damir, and I went to the bar to watch the Croatia-Estonia Football (it will always be soccer to me) match. Croatia won, and while we were watching perhaps the most boring game in the history of sports (I'm told it was an excellent and exciting football game), the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) came on. "This is something I can get down with" I figured.

Little did I know, the mixed martial arts is only televised when Mirko fights. He is a bit of a legend in these parts. First, Croatian SWAT, then Special Forces during the Bosnian War, and finally UFC. "Very, very, strong fighter." Damir explained to me emphatically. It was not the fight that caught my attention, as Mirko was dominated throughout the fight, much to the chagrin of the bar who yelled, "Miiiiiirko Crooo Coppp!" every time anything interesting (or every time someone felt like it). What I found fascinating was what I am beginning to notice is a national tradition. Croatian people know every sports figure, celebrity, or politician who has had any measure of success internationally. People who I don't even notice (I forget all there names even after being told them a hundred times) in Croatia, are gods. Whenever I say I am American, the response is "Doctor on ER, he is Hrvatski! Do you know him?" I always nod in the affirmative, though until this trip, I had never even watched the show.

Brazil: Orientation and Feria de São Joaquim!

By Crister Brady

It has been a great first week here in Salvador! It would be impossible to share all the experiences I’ve had so far. This is incredible considering that we’ve been in the orientation week so far and the official program hasn’t even begun yet! I’d like to give a brief summary of our orientation and then share an experience from our ‘drop off’ in the city.

I arrived a day late after spending a long day in the Lima Airport and met the group in the SIT house situated close to the airport. I must admit that before the program I wasn’t looking forward to going abroad with a bunch of US students. However, this fear was quickly forgotten when I found my fe