Intersections

Dispatches: China

One of our regular student blog features is the experience of North Park students in other lands for study abroad programs.  This post comes from Benjamin Bruckner who is studying in China.

我在四川大学学习汉语

Wo zai Sichuan daxue xuexi Hanyu

Sichuan Daxue(四川大学, or four river big study, if translated literally, but that is not what it means-it is where I am. Sichuan University-China. I am sitting here in my dorm room having completed my Chinese homework and my last history paper of the semester bracing myself to buckle down on my Chinese language class so that I will be able to do well on the finals the week of January 15^th. I will be here in China until the end of July studying its history and language hoping that through my study I may be able to participate in bridging the gap between the East and the West.

I am in Chengdu, Sichuan Province, which is in the interior of China. I am studying historiography, the way that history is told, as well as studying the China’s last two hundred years. When I first came here I felt like an imperialist. They sent us on a tour of all the nicest touristy restaurants with mandatory pearl, jade, and ceramic jar shops. We went to the Great Wall, the Terracotta Warriors, the Forbidden City, Tianamen Square and every meal we were given so much food that there were plates and plates left over. The childhood admonishment of “there are starving children in China-eat your food” became a numb thorn in my side. We attended several dinner theaters that were very much appeals to Western Orientalism. When they finally brought us from our pleasure cruise to our dorms, they showed us our rooms. With two to a room, they are equipped with western private bathrooms, Japanese-made heating and cooling systems, a kitchen, a living space, and a bedroom, which is in stark contrast to the Chinese student dorms. The Chinese have 8 people to a single bunkroom, no heating or cooling, and public bathrooms. In a movement of conviction I asked if I could move into the Chinese student dorm, but the overseas student office refused.

Here I have done my best to make use of my faculties to study and walk the line between contentment and apathy.  I think that learning how to listen is something that has been one of the most difficult things here.  Having the opportunity to learn from the Chinese students has brought both challenge and fulfillment in learning how to listen. I can not speak without knowing what is being said, but even once I know that there are still challenges.  Among those challenges are understanding why so many of the Chinese love Lady Gaga, Kenny G, the TV show Friends, and the song “Country Roads”. There is plenty of time to learn that here though, because it is the cultural norm here to go out to eat in groups to talk. (and the food is relatively cheap)

At Hot Pot, one of Sichuan’s specialties (think spicy and larger scale fondue) you can sit and talk as you wait for the meat and vegetables to cook and soak up the Sichuan specialty hua jiao, (aka numbing spice).  Many times students want to know about American history, politics or normal likes or dislikes, and I admit what little I know about those things.  Alas, I often come to a point in the conversation where the sweat is dripping from my eyes, (from the spice) and knowing the power of language and danger of it being too vague I return; set my nose to the grindstone once again, as I attempt to unseat myself from the American monolingual throne.

Dispatch from the Czech Republic (part 2)

Deborah Kay McPherson is a North Park University student studying abroad in the Czech Republic

As I talked about in my last post, my experience in the Czech Republic got off to a rocky start. Soon after my arrival I started meeting a few people and getting to know the city. The first week here I had to go to a Czech language course and the main thing I learned was that Czech is a very hard language to learn. I would say that up to this point my biggest challenge and the thing that really kept me from getting out more in those first weeks was the language barrier. There are not that many people outside of the university that feel very comfortable speaking English. Some people might know some English, but they don’t want to make a mistake so they won’t speak it to you. For awhile I would avoid speaking with anyone that I wasn’t sure spoke English because I would go away upset or feeling dumb because I wasn’t sure how to communicate. I wish I knew more Czech. Since that first week, I’ve managed to pick up some basic phrases and words, but since I am not in a Czech language course it took some time to get to the point where I could communicate at all with non-English speakers. I still have trouble sometimes and often just go to the places that I know speak English so I don’t go away feeling stupid.

As far as getting used to living here goes, the first month was the hardest. One thing that really helped me transition was getting my bearings in the city. Once I knew where things were like grocery stores, good restaurants and cafes, life got a lot easier. Despite this I was still dealing with some culture shock and homesickness, and it took me time to really find people I enjoyed spending time with. Once I started branching out and meeting people through the various activities the International Student Club planned for us, I noticed a gradual shift from exclusion to inclusion, not only with the other international students but also within the Brno community. I found a church to attend and an English speaking Bible study both of which made all the difference in settling down to life here. Up until finding people I could relate to on a spiritual level, I really felt lonely. It helped me gain my confidence in order to meet other international students who maybe didn’t share my faith. I’m finding that life here is getting easier all the time because of the friendships I’m developing with people from literally all over the world. I’ll be honest. There are still days when that lonely feeling comes back, and I wish for certain familiar things, but as time goes on and as I continue to add to my experiences, that feeling comes less often. I’m finding the great things about this place as well and can actually picture myself missing Brno and the friends I’ve made here. I know that I’ll probably look back on this experience and see just how rewarding it was regardless of all of the hard work and tough days that came with it.

Dispatch from the Czech Republic (part 1)

Deborah Kay McPherson is a North Park University student studying abroad in the Czech Republic

Studying abroad has never been much of a debate for me. Ever since traveling to Europe when I was sixteen and then watching my three older sisters each take their turn as international students, it was natural for me to follow in step. When I received the email from Jennifer Pope last March telling me I would be spending the fall semester of my junior year in the Czech Republic, my initial reaction was obviously excitement. All of the hard work and anticipation was finally over. I was going someplace no one I knew had ever been, and considering the size of my family and how much we travel, that was quite an accomplishment. I gave little thought to the challenges that lay ahead of me.

The rest of my spring and all of my summer were spent applying for a visa, planning a trip, buying plane tickets and stressing out about the paperwork that never seemed to end. Sometimes I still look back and wonder how I managed to get all the details worked out, but everything came together and on September 2nd I flew out of Chicago O’Hare to start my semester in Europe. I spent my first week in Greece with another North Park student (don’t be too jealous), and after a couple stressful situations in various European airports, I made it to Prague in one piece. From there I caught a bus to Brno, the city where my university is. I got into the bus station in Brno around 9:30pm on September 10th and met up with a student who had contacted me for the purpose of helping me settle in to my dorm and show me around. Up to that point, the fact that I would be spending the next three months in a country that speaks a different language, has a different culture and a different idea about life without knowing anyone had not really sunk in. That night it all came crashing down on me. Upon opening up my room, and seeing the bare walls, the toilet room without toilet paper and a dripping sink, I started to feel more alone and out of place than I can ever remember feeling. I had no internet connection, no phone and my roommate wasn’t there yet so there was no one to talk to. Physically I was exhausted, but my mind wouldn’t let my body sleep. I hadn’t thought that this experience would be difficult. I’ve done quite a bit of traveling, and I am used to being away from home so the way I felt didn’t make much sense to me at the time. The following week was not an easy one. I had a week long orientation program which completely overwhelmed me. Not only was I living in a foreign country, but I had to get used to a whole new university system. I felt like I was a freshman in college again only the experience also included dealing with a language barrier. I didn’t know anyone or anything about the school, and I didn’t feel like anyone could really relate to what I was going through. I had no idea what the next 3 months had in store. It seemed like such a long time to be away from home. But despite these feelings I knew I would get through and really end up loving it in Brno.

Take My Hand...From Chicago to Milan

Esmeralda Colombo was an exchange student at North Park University in the spring of 2009.

The blue shining sky that surrounded me with glee during my stay in Chicago is one of those indelible memories I sometimes sift through to bring or compare to present times. Yet, I never saw that blue again. Not in Italy, where I live. This remembrance may provide a ladder to a concept I would like to convey: although I left North Park in May 2009, that blue sky is still present within me. I do not indulge in nostalgia, rather try to keep all the blessings I was given alive by applying inspiring teachings which have been deposited over and over since that awakening time.

I studied at NPU during spring term 2009. I was then enrolled in the third year of a five-year degree in Law at the Catholic University of Milan. The ISEP organizational framework proved to be valuable and a means to discover new ways of being and learning. I took classes and exams of International Politics with Prof. Alulis, Business and Professional Ethics with Prof. Ahn, American Government with Prof. Feichter and Leadership and Management of Nonprofit Organizations with Prof. Rogers.

When I came back I renewed my vision on law, on my path towards the sense of justice. I realized it has more to do with people, social practice, politics, culture and human beings’ aspiration to perfect him/herself and the world. Classes had been such a wellspring of wonder that I could no longer hamper those interests which rested in me: literature, politics, philosophy, music. And planning. I found out vehicles to channel all the ideas that were swirling on my mind to give in return after all that I was given.

But this has to do with another key factor in America: people. I had the chance to meet open-minded, welcoming and loving people. Classes offered a venue to interlace friendships with presentations, group projects or even interaction in class to which I was not accustomed.

Gospel Choir mirrors the breakthrough I experienced with people. At first I tended to shy out. However, in Gospel Choir I understood that the center was not me. I had not to be concerned about the fact I would or not have done the right thing at the right time. The center was love toward one another, “each and everyone blessed with the gift to serve through music one another, therefore God”, as Rollo Dilworth, our wonderful director used to say.

Back in Italy, I sensed the impelling need to impact positively. I love my country, notwithstanding the many battles we are called to fight to better it. I dropped by the Catholic University’s Pastoral Center and asked for a meeting with the Chief, Father Lanza. I knocked on the door with a story to tell and a gift to give. The story was about North Park’s Gospel Choir and the North-West Pacific Tour of the Gospel Ensemble which I had the honor to sing in. The gift consisted in the recorded worship service Gospel Choir had sung in Anderson Chapel on 18th April 2009. Father Lanza was convinced and took the lead to find the financing for a Gospel Choir was at the Catholic University of Milan!

In the universal and higher dimension of music, particularly Gospel Music, fifteen students were led by our director, Gianluca Sambataro, into a journey of discovery both of ourselves, others and God. In less than one week our second season will start. And there is a novelty: the International Chamber Orchestra of the Sacred Heart is going to enliven the university’s cloisters with its music.

That is another part of the legacy I owe to America. Trust in a life of love, significance and service, most of all.

I Could See Humans Planting Bombs

Rebecca Ewing is a North Park University student studying conflict transformation in Northern Ireland. This post is reprinted with her permission from her own blog, To the Taybeh Church

This past weekend I went to Belfast. On the bus there my friend gave me a full hour lecture concerning Northern Irish history and the current state of political affairs.

The bus was pretty full from the start, and we didn’t know the bus’ political composition. In light of the very real bombing last week here in Derry, this was a legitimate concern to me. While she was talking I glanced around, noticing the elderly people sitting a few seats in front of us. I perked my ears to hear the young men around us quip about the RA (IRA). Though I appreciated it, I wanted to hush her relentless (and enthusiastic) retelling of sectarian violence, terrorism, and oppression. These people lived the troubles. They know the rebels, the paramilitaries, the dead, the fear.

I confessed to her, “I simply don’t see any reason for the violence. I’ve spent the last two years concerning myself with the possibility of legitimate causes for a terrorist’s activity. Now that I’ve seen it happen in real life it seems so useless. So dumb and destructive and unwanted.”

My friend was quiet for a bit, then she said something profound. She said they (these Real IRA members who set off the car bomb) may have grown up in the homes of former IRA members who have a family heritage in the republican movement. She said it’s possible that they want something to fight for. She said they probably want to be a part of something bigger than themselves.

And all of the sudden they weren’t monsters without minds and without families and without dreams. I could see humans planting bombs.

Now. None of this realization makes what they did okay. But, so importantly, it re-humanized them to me. I was afraid because I thought I’d found a situation in which dehumanization was a legitimate response. And that scared me. The potential in me to dehumanize is just as real as within a Ku Klux Klan member. I must guard against this inclination.

As I spent the weekend in Belfast, as city still wrecked in sectarianism, I continued to think about violence. We watched Michael Collins with our newfound Belfast friends. [Michael Collins is an excellent movie--I recommend it to anyone. Liam Neeson... need I say more?] The movie is about the leader of Ireland’s war for the Republic. It is during these years that Northern Ireland voted to remain under British rule.

I want to believe that violence isn’t useful. But I simply can’t. Violence got Ireland their republic--alongside diplomacy, but definitely proceeding that diplomacy. Though it is hell, war gets plenty done from that hell.

What amazes me is the way in which being part of a cause, especially one worth violence, can saturate a life with meaning. And I find myself longing so deeply to be a part of a cause that demands everything from me. Something bigger than living. Something worth killing for.

It is so easy to get caught up in a pursuit of some greater cause. I confess that, in the past, justice has been my god.

As a person of this inclination I must check myself. Why do I want the things I want? Is it because I want to be near Jesus or because I feel a need to infuse my life with meaning? In my clearer moments, I want to follow Jesus until, if necessary, I lose my life. With the grace of God, those moments will become more and more often.

I still believe that the people of the Way are called to love their enemies: that never looks like killing them. I must remember that this doesn’t diminish the depth of our struggle. We must struggle in the name of our God... in love.

How are you?

It's so common for people to ask "How are you doing?", which in turn the adequate and most common response is "I am good", even if you don't mean it. However, it's unexpected when someone responds "I am being convicted" or "I have learned through conviction that...". I've learned through sharing what I am learning about my faith, that my friends are commonly going through the same thing, and sometimes sharing turns out to be God using you as a vessel.

Recently, there has been a common theme where I go. I am reminded that I am broken... When it first entered my mind once it was so difficult to gulp in, but it's true. To be completely blunt, I am human. I sin, surprise! Therefore, I am convicted. Thinking about this reminds me of that Hannah Montana song "Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days", (now that I am sufficiently humiliated let's move on.) Thinking about this and other recent circumstances has made me realize that if someone came up to me, confided in, told me "I am broken, therefore I did this..." I would be quick to say "It's alright". God has so much grace in Him, and I wouldn't hesitate to share that with someone else, however it is so different went it comes to myself. I think it's funny. When talking about this with some of my friends, it appeared so incredibly common.

Girls are so self-critical. (It may be the same case with boys, but I wouldn't know.) For example, I am so particular when I straighten my hair. I don't like for it to curl out but it happens, no one knows that it bothers me (well now you do), but it makes me feel so self-conscious. It's ridiculous. The same thing goes for conviction. There are so many things that have led me to be who I am, good and bad things, which sometimes I want to forget ever happened. But reality is, there are things that have hindered and influenced the way I relate to people.

To be completely honest, I truly have no idea how a healthy relationship is fleshed out. Through God, I gain strength and I pray for wisdom. Nevertheless, I cannot get rid of my brokenness, my human nature, and I forget. I found it so incredibly easy to forget something so important. Being active in my faith, I thought to myself "I got this, I am good". I have felt myself become so overwhelmed in loving others and justice, that I forgot that first I have to love myself. I have prayed, I reminding myself that God is a forgiving God, a graceful God, but I was not internalizing any of it. At the same time I felt lost, I thought no one identifies with me, everyone has their stuff together.I felt trapped in my convictions, and I think it was very much due to the fact that darkness was working in me, working in distancing me from God, and it was working.

Thankfully, God kept telling me, through people, conviction is common, but action upon conviction is necessary. I am so blessed to be surrounded by people that share my faith. It's ridiculous how much we don't share, because if we did we'd find so many people that feel the same way. Through sharing, so much weight has lifted from my shoulders and at the same time I find myself helping others.

Xenia Gonzalez is a junior at North Park. She is also an RA in Ohlson House.

Embarking to Romania

Exactly this time last year, I was having weekly meetings with Dr. Linda Parkyn as we worked extensively on my application for the Fulbright English Teaching Assistantship (ETA) award in Romania. Six months later, on March 8, I received an e-mail with the good news- I won the award! Fast forward to today, September 27, I am currently on a flight headed for Bucharest, Romania. I can't help but look upon this past year’s events with utter gratitude!

For the next ten months I will be an ETA in Romania, specifically Constanta and Timisoara. In Constanta, I will be teaching American studies to undergraduate students at Universitatea Ovidius. Constanta is a city located in Eastern Romania near the Black Sea. Due to its location and famous beaches, Constanta is often frequented by tourists from both Romania and around the world. For the second semester, I will be teaching graduate students at Universitatea de Vest in Timisoara. Timisoara is a city located in western Romania and it is approximately 160 miles from Budapest, Hungary. It is known for being one of the cities that instigated the 1989 revolution which ended the communist regime. Timisoara is considered to be one of the more multicultural cities since it is has a strong Hungarian, German and Serbian minority presence.

I look forward to experiencing the Romanian culture through these two diverse cities. At the same time, I cannot wait to share with my students and those around me American culture. My hope is that my identity as a first generation American will add a unique dynamic to the classroom.

Although moving to a new country is not an easy task, it is such a privilege to be able to embark on this journey. I am filled with excitement and appreciation for this opportunity!

Ruth is a Fulbright student who will be spending the next ten months in Romania. This is the first of a series of posts.

Mangos, Memories, and Martinique

Mangos. Je me souviens les mangues.

I confess that this blog post has not been easy to write. Every time I sit down to type, it seems that my fingers remain poised and ready above the keyboard, but that my mind drifts and becomes lost in my memories. It is after all much easier to indulge myself in these memories than to try to figure out how in the world I will explain in a few short paragraphs all the challenges, adventures, hardships, and joys I experienced. Like mangos, it seems that even the smallest memories could take up several pages to fully describe.

Imagine then how difficult it is to succinctly describe the adventure of the two week canoe trip I took with a group of 30 other Martiniquans. We paddled through nearly half of the Caribbean in our dug out canoe, stopping at islands and sharing about the history and culture of the amer-indians who once inhabited the islands. Groups of school children on field trips, curious adults who had seen us pull up onto shore, and even journalists and tv reporters came out to listen to us speak and get a close up view of the traditional amer-indian sea vessel.

And how could I describe to you in words the impact of Magdi’s friendship on my life? She taught me that you can be humble without being meek, and that the freedom to get an education is perhaps one of the greatest gifts of all. A poor immigrant from the neighboring island of St. Lucia, Magdi worked cleaning houses in order to support her seven children who lived with her in a house less than half the size of a Carmen five apartment. Refusing to simply accept charitable hand-outs, Magdi forced my generous host parents to let her clean their house if they wanted to give her money. One day while working in our house, she shared with me her regrets of never having been able to attend school. “When I was young I had to carry bananas from the fields. I was not allowed to go to school,” she told me squarely, “Education is the key. My children all go to school.”

Though my time in Martinique was short, I have carried these memories and so many others close to heart. It is not difficult to think back on them in the small pauses of a conversation, on my way to morning class, or standing in front of a stand of mangos at the grocery store. I do hope to return one day, but until then, I will continue to carry closely the memories of all that I saw and experienced in Martinique.

Katie is a senior at North Park, majoring in global studies and french. She is also a member of the women's soccer team.

Coexist

North Park has truly provided me the opportunity, to reflect and discuss things I would have never imagined. During the past week, in my Arabic class we talked about the possibility of a Quran, the Muslim holy book, being burned by a Christian minister, on September 11. My Arabic instructor resolved to organize a prayer vigil in response to the situation. During the prayer vigil it was amazing seeing people come together from different religions to pray.

One thing that stood out to me during the evening was something Sally, a student from Jerusalem, said. She shared how she lived in a neighbor in Jerusalem, where there was Jews, Arabs, and Christians all living in harmony. I found it unthinkable for Palestinians to live among Jews in Israel/Palestine, much less in peace. My immediate response, why is that we are fighting? If two conflicting groups could live in harmony, why can’t the rest of the world?

I am really glad this event happened; it was great to talk about faith with others from different religions at North Park. Religion has become a taboo topic in the U.S, which is ironic because as a country we claim religious freedom, but to talk about one’s faith is politically incorrect. Sharing one’s faith is a super sensitive thing to do due to the fear of offending someone, or somehow crossing boundaries with those that choose not to have a faith. During the vigil, I realized that two of my friends are Muslim, I had never thought to ask them, but thinking back I really wish I had. I think that religious freedom allows for us to be fearful, we are fearful in sharing our faith; we fear being disliked or being thought of as imposing for being proud of our faith. As Christian, I feel a conviction to be proud about my faith, and not hide it, but at the same time, I fear other people thinking negatively about me due to my faith.

As I walked away from the vigil I thought about the fact that the three main faiths are so similar and yet so different at the same time. In all three religions, there is one God, and praying serves the same purpose. All three religions strive for harmony, and that is why it was possible for people of different faiths to come together and speak about what great things God has done in our lives as well as our desire for peace.

Xenia Gonzalez is a junior at North Park University and an RA for the Ohlson House residence on campus

Clown College

Stephanie Weber is a final semester senior, a writing advisor in the North Park University Writing Center, and a working comedian in Chicago.

Early September last fall I ventured onto a brown line train going south, with a notebook in hand, prepared for my semester away from North Park...in Old Town. That's right. My "study abroad" was in Chicago. I got off at the Sedgwick stop and made my way to Second City to what was affectionately known as "clown college".

Second City is a Chicago institution and the birthplace improv and sketch comedy. Since its inception in the 1950s, Second City has raised comedy babies who have grown up to be full-blown stars. Everyone from John Belushi to Tina Fey to Stephen Colbert have all come out of this tradition. So if this was what I wanted to learn, then why leave? There was no need to travel to Thailand or Italy. The major tools I needed were at North and Wells.

Second City offers credit through Columbia College for a semester long intensive program where about twenty students from around the country come to Second City every day between 9-5 to learn everything about comedy. History, improv, writing, mime, slapstick, playwrights, casting, clowning, voice, accents, etc. Developing comic personas with these hilarious students from around the country was the best part. Using the tools we learned in our physical comedy class, my new friends and I ventured to nearby Lincoln Park and practiced pratfalls and fake fights before school one morning.

It was a blast, of course, but clown college was actually very serious. During one class we had a thirty minute discussion on whether or not ending one of our sketches with a derogatory word was worth the risk of offense. I could not believe that we were all professional and seriously throwing this word around and debating the mechanics of hilarity - it was just one word. One possibly offensive word. The whole time I kept thinking 'this is school'. And rightfully so. In the entertainment realm, professionals have to constantly wonder if their edgy material is worth it and scrap it if it isn't (like we ended up doing).

It was not an easy semester, though. Not at all. It was extremely intense. People cried during clowning exercises, for example. One project we did was to create a 22 minute satirical news show in a week, in the vein of The Daily Show or Weekend Update. My peers voted me as the director of the show, meaning I oversaw everyone's material during the week and put the show together. It was a near perfect simulation of what working on a live TV show like that would be like and it was terribly stressful! My writing "staff" would argue several times that week over who's material should go into the show. At that point in the semester we had the comedic terminology to back up why a joke isn't funny. As we learned over the semester, jokes are basically equations. Good comedians are not necessarily "funny people". They just know where to put all of the variables in order to equal laughs.

This year as I start my final semester, it is hard not to remember the stressful and incredibly rewarding days when writing sketches and practicing mime were homework. Don't be surprised if you see me pretending to fall on the green space. I'm reminiscing.