There are three different kinds of reactions you experience when you tell someone you’re studying abroad in Oman. One, they immediately admit they have no idea where that is. Two, they pretend like they know where it is, all the while maintaining a slightly confused look. And three, my personal favorite, they tell you that you’re pronouncing it wrong; that it’s Amman, “AAA-mman.” Yes, you’re very smart. But that’s in Jordan. And this is a separate country.

The land of the unknown, that’s where I am. Even some Arabs can’t locate Oman on a map. One of my friends at CMC asked if I had blindfolded myself and thrown a dart at a map of the world to choose where I was studying abroad. It would seem so, perhaps. Yet one year later, I’m sitting here during Eid, covered head to toe, speaking broken Arabic to women clad in brightly colored, bejeweled jalabiyas.

Oman represents an interesting dichotomy. Modern, yet incredibly conservative and traditional. Authoritarian rule, but steadily increasing its democracy. Friend to every country, foe to no one (yes, even Israel). As a result, in a typical day I could be driving around the city with my host brother who’s wearing Puma sweats and blasting techno. Or instead I may be drinking Omani kahawa (coffee) and eating dates with my host family adorned in dishdasha, abayas, and hijabs.
In the south of Oman, I sat at Job’s Tomb, watching Pakistani immigrants clutching their Holy Qurans, tears streaming down their cheeks. In Dubai, I was culture shocked by finding my own culture in such an unexpected place. I’ve been places where I was asked to cover my hair. I’ve been asked by an Omani why I’m covering my hair if I’m not Muslim.

At one Omani birthday party, the family rolled their bodies and shook their hips like they were trying out for a Shakira music video. At a different gathering, the women and men sat in completely separate rooms and music wasn’t allowed because they believe it’s haram, forbidden according to the teachings of the Holy Quran.

Eid Al-Adha was no exception to this merging of tradition and modernism. Eid is like a three-day Islamic version of Christmas. You’re supposed to eat, sleep, pray, and pass around babies. (I swear this is the informal criteria. Emphasis on the eating.) The second morning of Eid, the ten cousins sleeping in one room woke me up and we all began changing into brand new clothes. I’m talking head to toe, undergarments to head scarf, it has to be new. Walking into the sitting room, you must pay your respects to the elders and begin the traditional process of drinking coffee, eating dates and cutting fruit. We spent the day watching hajj, the pilgrimage to Mecca, on TV.

In a strange conclusion to the day, at night my thirty female host cousins picked up Pizza Hut for a picnic which culminated in the classic game familiar to every U.S. youth, Truth or Dare. A scandalous dare consisted of one of my cousins running around a tree ten feet away while waving her hands in the air.

Sometimes when I come home, my host family is watching a traditional Turkish soap opera, set in a small village in rural Turkey. Other times they’re watching So You Think You Can Dance. For dinner, there may be the customary Omani chicken and rice dish or it could be hot dogs. My very first night in my host family, they fed me a creamy pasta dish. I asked them what it was called in Arabic. They looked at me and said very slowly ma-ca-roni. Well, then. How exotic.

Beyond the food, the dinner conversation may be in Arabic, Swahili or English. The only thing you can be sure of is that they will talk about football and they will make you eat more. That’s the true Arab way. After eating with our hands and washing it down with the mandatory tea, I just say shukran, asantay sana, and thank you to be sure I’ve covered all my bases.

Surprisingly, I’ve gotten quite used to this strange combination of activities, foods, languages, and cultures. I never know what will happen or what customs I’ll be adhering to for the day. Just to be safe, I keep a head scarf in my bag and LMFAO on my iPod; I could need either at a moment’s notice. Now, there’s something I didn’t expect.

In fact, Italy isn’t really all that different from the U.S. There is a McDonald’s down the street, the teenagers are loud, and you’re not cool unless you have an iPhone. But surprisingly enough, this similarity between cultures has taught me quite a lot. Maybe it’s the fact that I can identify with their lifestyle that makes me more aware of the nuances. I find that many of the things they do in Italy are the same things we do in the U.S., Italians just do them a little bit differently. Their McDonald’s has a café inside, their iPhone plans cost an arm and a leg, and the teenagers – well they’re still just teenagers. But it is the small differences that have taught me so much.

detailing the inner-workings of the Camorra, a powerful mafia organization from Naples. As you can imagine, taking on the Italian mafia is no breezy feat. Saviano now lives in a secret location and will have round-the-clock police protection for the rest of his life. But none of this is really why he came to mind when I decided to wonder about what is most important in life. Rather, I was reminded of a YouTube video I saw of Saviano talking about “10 cose per cui vale la pena vivere,” or, “10 things that make life worth living.” From my perspective, Saviano’s list embodies what Italians consider to be most essential. Here is what he shared:

(the translations are of the intended message and are not word-for-word)

Maybe I haven’t done anything during my time studying abroad that is going to change the world, but living in Italy has certainly changed me. I cannot provide you with deep insight into the events of the world today. Half of me wishes I could. But instead, I have been given a different kind of insight – the ability to understand myself. Okay, not completely, but unquestionably better than before. In terms of exploring the self, Italian culture has inspired me in a profound way. If nothing else, I will bring with me back to Claremont an awareness and an appreciation for the important things in my life. My list is not the same as Saviano’s. I’m sure yours is different, too. But if you ask an Italian, the important thing is that you have a list. That you take the crucial moments to recognize the things that make your life worth living. On behalf of my wonderful Italy, I encourage you to take the time while you’re walking to class, going for a run, or falling asleep to think about what makes your own life worth living. You don’t have to be in Italy to appreciate everything that is wonderful. L’amore da Italia, la vita è bella!

Plaintive emails and rampant rumors about Claremont McKenna College’s very own housing crisis leave many students picturing hundred of homeless CMC’ers posting up in tents on Green Beach. Ever since the Dean of Students office asked students to volunteer to either move off-campus or create triples out of double rooms, the buzz on campus seems to revolve around who is willing to make sacrifices for returning CMC’ers – and most students are less than enthusiastic. Katie Browning, a junior studying abroad in Chile, puts the problem in terms we can all understand with what she calls “The Pong Dilemma.” She explains, “Everyone loves the game and wants to play, but there are never enough tables for everyone to show off their bounce shots at once! Someone’s gotta be kicked out and go fill out the slap cup team.” The slap cup team may be less glamorous – but what if skipping out on those glorious bounce shots saved you $400? It appears the question now is, who’s going to volunteer to join the slap cup team?

A standard double in North Quad

Unbeknownst to most students, the housing situation at CMC is as intricate and impossible to predict as a 3-D puzzle with a thousand pieces. Among the contributing factors to the problem are the number of students who study abroad or off-campus in D.C., the number of students taking/returning from a leave of absence, those that are suspended, transfer in, or drop out of/extend their study abroad experience. Additionally, the financial aid CMC offers has fewer students choosing to transfer out of CMC. Kristen Mallory, the director of the Off-Campus Study office, is one of the lucky administrators in charge of juggling all these students and figures. She estimates that roughly 10-20 students will be without beds on campus but will not know for sure until January when all these factors play out.

Though Dean Eric Vos declined to be interviewed until the issue has settled down, it is clear that the housing dilemma continues, in part, because many students are reluctant to move into triples or find housing off-campus. Freshman Lauren Henderson believes the Deans’ request is unreasonable, stating, “There might be enough room for an extra bed, but definitely not enough room for another person’s stuff.” Students in singles are just as resistant to the idea of losing their coveted spots. Even students who look at the situation objectively, like freshman Amelia Evrigenis, worry that there are too many variables. Evrigenis offers “I thought that it might be a good opportunity to live in a triple, but I didn’t know how my roommate would feel about it, who could move in, or if I’d really want to commit to that.” As an LA native currently abroad in China, Priscilla Hsu offers “if worst came to worst I could attempt to commute from home” but explains that solutions like this one are more logistically difficult (and costly) than living at CMC.  It seems students and administration alike are scrambling to find a favorable solution.

Berger Hall holds 32 singles

From on-campus resources, financial difficulties, to missing out on part of the college experience, off-campus students shared their worries about returning without housing. Hsu explains that the issue is of great financial importance.  She offered that her decision to live on- or off-campus would be contingent on the meal plan and financial aid benefits and that she would be “really upset” if she didn’t have on-campus housing. Quinn Chasan, a junior spending his semester in Washington D.C., also vehemently professed his desire to remain on-campus. He recognizes the benefits of living inside the CMC bubble, “I’ve lived on my own for the past 6 months here in DC…So, no, I want to have all of the amenities that come with dorm life.” Browning appeals to her fellow students saying, “If there wasn’t a place for me on campus I would feel like I was missing out…the experiences you remember the most and that stay with you for the longest are those that happen at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday night when you really should be in bed.”

 CMC’ers on-campus and off-campus alike voiced their concerns over the way the situation was handled.  Browning explains that despite the fact that CMC doesn’t necessarily guarantee housing, “it almost seems like they do” since about 97% of students live on campus according to CMC’s Residential Life webpage. The number of students willing to bite the bullet–or join the proverbial slap-cup team–and move off-campus or into a triple is in fact dwindling, but this is no new problem. This year, Scripps College (as CMC has done in the past) will rent out a floor of one of Pomona’s dorms and house 20+ students on their campus. CMC almost followed suit until a student suggested allowing students to move off campus. This message was incorrectly conveyed to the student body at large and, voilà, the rumors began that the DOS office was kicking students out of their rooms and forcing them into bad housing situations.

Dean Eric's most recent email to students

Mallory explains her office’s sticky situation stating, “I know everyone wants to study abroad with their friends, or be an RA, or have an internship. I know all these reasons yet something has to give. So what do I do?” Though many students are eager to offer criticism, few CMC’ers are willing to offer viable solutions. Regardless, almost all students interviewed agreed that they would have appreciated a warning further in advance. Freshman David Leathers agrees there is simply not enough time and “finals and the holidays are going to dominate student’s minds [more than] a $410 financial incentive.” Browning offers a humorous alternative to the housing hubbub, calling out to her fellow students, “Is anyone down for Occupy Pomona’s New Dorms?” even offering, “I’ll help make the signs.”

 If this year constitutes housing mayhem, housing pandemonium may break out next year as well.  Mallory reports that the off-campus survey she sent out asking who was interested in studying abroad pulled in responses from 170 students who plan on studying abroad in the Fall and 77 who plan on going abroad the Spring term.  Mallory explains that the problem is not the Dean of Students Office, the Off-Campus Study Office, or the students themselves.  The real obstacle is that students enjoy living on campus so much that fewer in recent years have wanted to leave.  The problem, she states, “It’s no one’s fault.  It’s that people love CMC.  And that’s a good problem to have.” This housing crisis is up to you, CMC students, to fix.  If you truly have stag pride and CMC love, approach your administration with your own solution.

Recently, my darling Heath has been begging me, along with many other members of the class of 2013, to contribute to the Forum‘s Letters to Home series.  But as much as I’m sure that “Letters to Home: How I Fell Off a Swing By Myself and Split My Head Open in Chile” would be an instant classic, I’m saving it for my memoir.

So here’s the back up plan: write about fat girls.

Like it or not, we’re all thinking about it – the prospect of going abroad with that cute little California beach body and coming back only to have been transformed into a whale hanging out at Scripps pool.  I might weigh 135 pounds, but that’s only 60 kilograms, so that means I’m actually skinnier in South America, right?  That’s a thing.

Let’s start from the beginning.  Before I’d even booked my plane ticket for my big Southern hemisphere adventure, I knew what was up.  My friends warned me about it all summer, teasing me endlessly.  “All the girls that go to South America get fat,” they reminded me.

One put it a little more tenderly, providing some charming advice: “Mimbs, don’t f#@king get fat down there.”

Easier said than done.  When you’re in a world of new, good habits are hard to maintain.  You’re only abroad once is frequently our rallying cry, our excuse to tear into anything and everything put in front of us.  It isn’t healthy, but who knows.  Maybe it is our once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to have Dulce de Leche and Coconut flavored ice-cream.  And, yes, I could probably find that back in the States, thanks to globalization and what not, but shush.  Don’t tell me that.  Let me savor this mouthful of wonderfulness like Argentina and I are going to break up – and this is my last opportunity to savor our rich, rich relationship.   Besides, I haven’t had a real waffle cone since, like, 1998.

My tortured existence on this deserted continent of fine wine and Latin lovers now consists of two ever hounding thoughts: “when is my next meal coming” and “I should really be more careful at my next meal not to get fat.”  The pendulum unpredictably, and unproductively, swings between the two.   Thinking about it is not helping anything, but taking the time to stay in shape isn’t easy.  Going for a run is difficult – especially when there are modern art museums to see and chocolate chunk lattes to try.

I don’t think I’m alone in this experience. After Skyping with friends studying in many parts of the world, I’ve reached one final conclusion – more likely than not, I’m not the only one going crazy over food while abroad.

Rather, we’re each asking questions: is my on-campus boyfriend still going to love me when I come back from Europe looking like I just ate a Frenchman?   Are the new freshman going to be hotter than me?  And how the hell am I going to fit into all my American Apparel body suits for theme parties in the spring? By the way, screw the lingerie party.

More then once on this trip, I’ve found myself quoting Mary Scmich’s “Wear Sunscreen” essay.  The essay, packed with fitting life advice, was adapted to music video in 1999 by Baz Luhrmann, and features one increasingly relevant line: “You are not as fat as you imagine.”  Dreamy and idealistic, but also not so far from the truth.  While there’s less research on weight gain of college students during their junior year, one recent study showed that the “Freshman 15″ isn’t actually a real thing.  It is nothing but a panic-inciting, salad-diet-inducing myth: the average student only gains about 3 pounds their first year in college.  At the end of the day, it’s more in our heads than we realize.

I could feed you some sort of cookie-cutter “cherish the moment” advice, but you’ve had enough cookies already, girlfriend.  Let’s just put it this way – there’s something more important to study abroad than counting calories.  As one CMC alum sagely advised me –  ”If you are going abroad, eat, drink and party like they do. Weight is something that can be lost, but experiences can’t.”

So breathe, you’re still a hottie.  And if you put on some weight, it’s not the end of the world.  There’s always Jessica Mao’s killer kick boxing class in the spring to get you back into shape.

Besides, Pirate Party’s not till May. Ya got time.

Food images courtesy of Elizabeth Petit ’13, currently studying abroad in Sydney, Australia.  Photos were taken during a trip to New Zealand. 

Dear Freshmen:

It seems like just yesterday that you were arriving in Claremont!  I hope you are finding your footing and beginning to feel at home at CMC.  You have made a lot of decisions and met a lot of new people in the past month.  You have probably heard a lot of advice, some of which you have followed and some which you haven’t.  I want to give you a little more and hope that it is among the advice you will follow.

Ask for help and accept help when offered:  CMC is tough.  You got into CMC so we know you have what it takes to be successful here.

It is not going to be easy.  Inevitably you will struggle from time to time; it might be a paper or exam, a class, a roommate, problems at home, financial issues, etc.  CMCers often project an air of having it all together so it may feel like you are the only one struggling.  I promise you, everyone has their moments of struggle and doubt.  The good news is CMC is filled with talented and caring faculty and staff who want to see you succeed.  The College and the consortium provide a wealth of resources.   All you have to do is ask for help.  If you don’t know who to ask, come to the Dean of Students Office.  We are here to help you navigate CMC and support you through your time here.

One last piece of advice about help….accept it when it is offered.  When your faculty member emails you because you haven’t been in class or wants to meet with you to talk about a test, etc.  Respond to their email; don’t ignore them.  The problem isn’t going to go away if you ignore it and your professor is reaching out because they want to help you.   One of the more tragic things I see in my role as Dean of Students is the student who fails because they do not accept the many offers of help they are given.

Go to breakfast: Your Mom was right – breakfast is the most important meal of the day.  Plus, if you haven’t experienced the campus as it wakes up you are missing out; you would be surprised how amazing the campus is in the still quiet of the early morning.  The other benefit to getting up for breakfast is having the whole day ahead of you to study, exercise, spend time with friends, call your family, etc. Oh, and the Collins omelet bar is pretty tasty!

Go to the Ath: If you have been following these “Letters to Freshmen” you have already heard this advice but it is such good advice it cannot be said enough.  You are truly blessed to be at CMC with this special place and the amazing programs that are waiting for you there.  Few colleges offer the caliber and quantity of speakers and performers who come to the Ath.  And you get them for free.  Don’t forget to sign-up to sit at the head table.

Get to know the Center of Global Education:  I loved college and while I tried to take advantage of the rich resources provided by my alma mater I have two regrets – not going to hear Cesar Chavez speak when he was on campus (see “Go to the Ath” above) and not studying aboard.  While I don’t regret the things I did on-campus my junior year, I wish I had a global experience too.   CMC offers amazing off- campus and international opportunities including faculty lead trips, exchange programs, study abroad, sponsored internships, and the Washington DC and Silicon Valley semesters.  There is something for everyone.  You owe it to yourself to explore these options and take advantage of one.  To find out more visit the Center for Global Education located on the first floor of the Heggblade Center.

CMC is an amazing place and I hope you take advantage of all it has to offer.  I look forward to getting to know you and seeing the imprint you make on CMC.

Best wishes,

Dean Spellman

Want more “Letters to Freshmen?” Check out advice on roommate etiquette from two RAs, advice on how to keep your body happy when things get tough, advice on how to go with the flow and many others. Looking for different advice? Let us know what you are looking for in the comment section below.

The Israeli flag waves near the famous Western Wall

The trip started off smooth enough, thanks in part to my DVD of “The Edge” (Hannibal and Jack Donaghy fight a bear after it kills Michael from Lost), but many hours of security screening and airplane food would lay ahead.  After more than a full day of traveling, we finally flew over the Mediterranean. Through the window, we spotted the islands of Sardinia and Rhodes, as well as this Greek City.

After landing and loading onto the bus in Tel Aviv, we sped inland towards Jerusalem.  As we crested and the city appeared below us for the first time, our Bus Driver started playing this song, and the resulting ambiance made quite an impression on me.  This moment sticks out in my mind as one of my favorite from the trip.

Over the next eight days, we visited many of the sights that make Israel famous, including the Dome of the Rock, the Western Wall, the fortress at Masada, the Dead Sea, the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, and many more.  All of the sites were great, to be sure, but we also had the opportunity to meet with a number of fascinating leaders and activists over the course of the trip, thanks in large part to Professor Gilbert’s tremendous effort to build a unique, thought-provoking program.  We met with Ethan Bronner, the New York Times correspondant in Jerusalem, Knesset Member Zeev Bielski, the influential professor and author Dr. Bernard Sabella, and Mohammed, a soft-spoken Palestinian man, whose house is under threat of seizure by the Israeli government in the East Jerusalem neighborhood of Sheik Jarrah, along with many others.

I don't know what they are playing. I assume it's candyland.

In addition to the trinkets and bobbles I accrued in the bazaars of the Old City and on the streets of Jaffa (including my favorite new TNC accessory, keep an eye out for it), I brought home with me a few things that make the trip stand out in my mind.

Two Israeli Defense Force members taking a break

First, my experiences with the people who we met along the way. These included the two Israeli Defense Force infantrymen who stopped me in the Jewish quarter of the Old City and asked me to take their picture while they took a break from patrol, the teenager in the Muslim Quarter who jokingly offered one of the girls in our group “one million camel” to “sleep in my house.”  In particular, I am thankful for Ellie, our Uruguayan-Israeli bus driver who was always quick with a joke and a bottle of water and Toby, our fiery-spirited tour guide who offered a counter-point to every criticism of Israeli policy we heard and hauled us all over the country at double speed despite being at least six months pregnant.

Second, I will miss the food, which was simultaneously familiar and exotic. Of course the highly anticipated humus, pita, and shawarma were fantastic, but other dishes were far more interesting.  For example, an Israeli “salad” is not quite the same thing one might order at the local Red Lobster. Rather than individual plates of lettuce and dressing, the Israeli salads we were served featured several, sometimes more than a dozen, small plates of various sauces, spreads, dips, and mixed vegetables spread across the middle of the table including garlic hummus, pickles, diced beets, pickled cabbage, and many, many more which I couldn’t identify. We also learned quickly that at every single meal, no matter the restaurant, we could expect to see an ubiquitous light lemonade drink called limonana on the table. Oddly enough though, Italian restaurants seemed to outnumber traditional Middle Eastern institutions. There are european style street cafes and restaurants everywhere.  It seems that Israelis have largely adopted the Western culinary tradition, but have adapted it to reflect their own Middle Eastern surroundings. Case in point: the McFalafal.

Most of us gathered in the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem's Old City

Third, thanks in large part to the program built by Professor Gilbert, I think we attained a better understanding of the political conflicts occurring in the region. Reading an article or blurb on the evening news about the Israeli-Palestinian dispute pales in comparison to standing on contested ground and walking through an Israeli settlement in East Jerusalem. On about the third day, while driving through Jerusalem, wondering how far we were from the West Bank, territory controlled by the Palestinian Authority rather than the Israeli government. In answer, our tour guide pointed out the window to a fence just a few streets over as if to say “see for yourself.”

For the last leg of the trip, we traveled from Israel’s ancient capitol of Jerusalem to her modern metropolis of Tel Aviv.  The shift in atmosphere was jarring. If Jerusalem is representative of the past of the tiny nation, the unique history of the land and it’s people as well as the conflicts which have shaped it for millennia, Tel Aviv represents it’s future as an economic and political powerhouse. We could see the difference as our bus approached the city. Whereas Jerusalem is distinguished by ancient buildings and walls constructed from characteristic beige Jerusalem stone, Tel Aviv features tall skyscrapers of steel and glass. Massive hotels and resorts tower over it’s beaches, and modern restaurants and shops line it’s streets.

Can you say Beach Day?

The difference in atmosphere and character of these two cities, the two largest in the country, represents another conflict in a land seemingly rife with them. It is hard to escape the feeling that the Israeli people are caught between a strong desire to hold on to their unique past and a quest to modernize, secularize, and westernize. As Israel continues to develop as a nation, this will surely be a point of contention among its people. Will they maintain their steadfast dedication to the past and the traditions which maintained the Jewish people through centuries of diaspora, or sacrifice some of these long-held principles in the name of peace and development?

At this point, I’ve spent far too much time trying to sound like Anthony Bourdain, so I’ll just say this: Israel is a beautiful place with a rich history filled with colorful personalities (and hummus). It affected me personally more than I would have thought possible, and I am tremendously grateful to Professor Gilbert for giving us the opportunity to experience it. It is a place both timeless and timely, Western and Eastern, similar and different, new and old, even (just one more, I promise) ethereal and concrete. I can say with certainty that I’ll go back someday, if only to spend one more afternoon swimming in the Mediterranean Sea just off the white sand beaches of Tel Aviv.

Oh CMC, how thrilled I am to return to you in the fall! I can only hope that all of you back on campus have had a stellar spring semester—I certainly have. As my time abroad wraps up I have become prone to random bouts of contemplation, the fruits of which are the following.

I have been in Siena—a medieval town in the heart of Tuscany—for four glorious months, and I know it will be heart wrenching to leave. Upon our arrival, we were debriefed on the emotional stages of a typical ‘study abroad’ period, of which I have experienced one: the romantic stage. Sure, I’ve missed family, friends and In-N-Out Burger, but there is simply too much to love in Siena to spend any time pining for the comforts of home. Home will always be there, but my time abroad is fleeting. And so I have compiled a list of the things that have grown dearest to my heart here, the things I will undoubtedly miss most when I return to the States.

I have found many testaments to the Italian affinity for beauty. The percentage of Italy, of places, things and people that are just beautiful is ridiculous. There is a value of the aesthetic here in almost every facet of life.  In terms of art and architecture, Italy is unrivaled in both beauty and plentitude. From Siena’s magnificent striped Duomo to the incredible Uffizi and Accademia galleries of Firenze, there are stunning churches, paintings, sculptures and buildings in every single Italian city. The amount of splendor to be absorbed in this country is astonishing, from the fading crimson of an ancient fresco to the strikingly lifelike form of a statue, transformed from marble block by the human hand.

Fashion is one of the most celebrated ways in which the Italians express a zeal for all things beautiful. Sleek, sophisticated Armani suits and painstakingly crafted Ferragamo heels are on the more upscale side of Italy’s sartorial offerings, but there is even a kind of beauty in more ‘Eurotrash’ style.  Garish patterns, cheap fabrics, strange color combinations and confused lines that encompass the ‘Eurotrash’ look could only be scorned by a total snob.  An undeniable type of beauty is in these ensembles.  Of course the ultimate beauty of Italian fashion, tasteful or outrageous, lies in the incredible ability of its wearers to pull just about any outfit off. I feel at once perplexed and impressed by the inexplicable capacity of Italians to wear things I would undoubtedly look and feel ludicrous in: a fabulous cream pantsuit, a pair of baggy grey sweats tapered at the ankle, or even a jacket tied around the waist.  I can only aspire to gain that Italian sensibility on some level before I leave.

And the cuisine encapsulates an elemental, irresistibly alluring kind of beauty. That fleeting, hedonistic beauty all foodies find in the fragrance of perfectly aged cheese, a cone of cloudlike gelato, or the brightness of fresh, green basil atop a mound of spaghetti al pomodoro.

But here the most beauty can be found in the simplest of things: the gleam of green shutters in the afternoon sun, the scent wafting into the street from a pizzeria, or basking for hours in Piazza del Campo with a six-pack of Birra Morretti. Of course the unapologetic pleasure so many Italians take in all these things, the immense joy with which they lead their lives and take their world in, makes every day all the more beautiful. And it is the beauty in the every day that I will miss most when I leave here and that I will try most to keep in my heart when I am gone. My friends at home may need to prepare themselves for a slightly more bold, indulgent, spirited version of me- or at least the me they know well, striving to be just a little bit more Italian.

This passage is the first of many entries on my blog, http://lifeinbauteworld.tumblr.com/. Grazie a tutti!

Baci,

Jennifer Baute

Before 2010, students who studied abroad were charged the cost of the program of their choosing. Students were expected to pay all additional expenses involved in traveling abroad including flights and meals. Now students pay full CMC home-school costs when they study abroad.

In exchange, CMC pays all exchange programs tuition and fees, room and board, international health insurance, local transportation, round trip airfare from LAX, and provides students with several other services such as the cost of providing Off-Campus Study at CMC, including pre-departure orientation and individualized advising, as well as the overall infrastructure of the college including information technology, public relations, financial services, on-line library resources, The Writing Center, the Registrar, and the Dean of Students; all resources that are available for study abroad students before, during, and after their time abroad.  However, even after accounting for these services, most students end up spending more for their study abroad than they would have before the policy change.

Kristen Mallory, Director of Off-Campus Study at CMC, discusses CMC’s old study abroad cost policy, and explains that it was unusual compared to other small liberal arts colleges. “CMC’s implementation of this new off-campus cost structure puts CMC more in line with our peer institutions,” she explains.  Still, the fact that most of our peer institutions charge full home costs for study abroad doesn’t necessarily mean that we should.

In 2008, a parent sued Wheaton College (MA) for charging full college tuition regardless of the cost of the overseas program. He believed the cost policy to be “illegal, unfair and deceptive” arguing that Wheaton was not involved enough in the overseas program to justify higher costs.

Michael*, a student at Pomona College, which also requires students to pay full tuition while abroad, discusses his perceived unfairness. Last semester, he chose to pay the program directly rather than pay home-school costs to Pomona, and saved about $6,000. Now. Pomona won’t accept his credits he earned while studying abroad, even though the program he chose was an accredited study abroad program at the college. “I’m now behind on credits” he explains, “but at least I saved a lot of money.”

Kristen Mallory explains Pomona’s rationale – credits earned while abroad count towards the college degree “and as such, cost the same as credits earned on campus.”

Sasha, a CMC student,  has decided to pay the full home-school costs next semester, rather than pay the program directly.  She also feels like she is being overcharged.  Sasha found it hard to understand why she has to pay full CMC tuition abroad seeing as “CMC faculty [are] not going to have any involvement in my life once I’m [abroad]” Another CMC student put things more bluntly and complained, “It feels like CMC is trying to make money off of me.”

Some students on financial aid, however, actually pay less for their abroad program than they would if they had to pay full program costs. Under the new policy, students on financial aid continue to receive aid abroad, no matter where they choose to study. Kristen Mallory explains the new policy benefits all students because “it ensures that all students have access to the same academic integrity and equal opportunities regardless of socio-economic status.”

Not all agree that the new policy is advantageous to all students. One student argues that by charging more for study abroad programs than they actually cost, “[the new policy] discourages people who aren’t on financial aid from going abroad.”

Still, this is a new policy, and it may take time to see its ultimate impact on study abroad participation.

* Student names have been changed.

My Dearest CMC,

I write to you from Dharamsala, India, the seat of the Tibetan exile government where I’m studying this semester.  My routines include alternately eating Tibetan momos (steamed dumplings) and outrageously spicy Indian food, and rocking a hat to keep warm even though it’s April…not all of India is hot!

Before I introduce a topic that’s become incredibly important for my studies this semester, I’ll provide you with some background info.  Chinese People’s Liberation Army invaded Tibet in 1949. 10 March 1959, the Chinese government invited His Holiness the Dalai Lama to a performance without bodyguards. Tibetan laypeople surrounded his palace to make sure he didn’t attend, which erupted in protests against Chinese occupation. His Holiness the Dalai Lama fled to India soon after.

Tibetans now celebrate uprising day on March 10, although the Chinese don’t recognize this day. In India, His Holiness the Dalai Lama gives a political speech, which is followed by a freedom demonstration. On March 10, I went to the temple with Dawa (my host brother) but then left him outside to get a radio. This was a mistake: I didn’t even try to tune in to the English translation of the Tibetan speeches. I went into the temple a bit later and found seats on the cement floor with the rest of the students on my program.

All the dignitaries marched in to Tibetan music (did you know Tibetans played bagpipes?!).  After the Tibetan national anthem and a prayer, a representative from the Tibetan government spoke. Then His Holiness the Dalai Lama addressed the crowd; it was powerful to see him in person and hear his voice—surprisingly strong and clear, and always joyful—but of course he spoke in Tibetan. I followed along in my English packet.

His speech emphasized many issues, but perhaps the most important and interesting was His Holiness the Dalai Lama’s announcement that he will devolve all political power with the coming elections. That part of the speech made the BBC world news later that evening, which I didn’t expect. My amala (host mom) told me later that she cried at the news. Tibetans really feel attached to His Holiness and do not want him to cede any power, even though the Dalai Lama believes in free democratic elections.

After the speeches, a massive demonstration took place. People joined together to scream slogans, wave flags, and march down to the courthouse in lower Dharamsala. The place was crawling with cameras and film crews: if you are a Tibetan who wants to return to Tibet, it is not in your best interest to show your face at the rally.

My group found a shortcut and encountered some young Tibetans chanting in Tibetan, English, and Hindi. Walking with this group made me quite uncomfortable—especially because some of the slogans called on the U.S. and the U.N. to take action to aid Tibet.

Amidst the crowd of screaming people, I was forced to consider some particularly difficult issues. I don’t feel that I’ve learned enough about the “Tibet issue” to have a well-developed opinion about whether Tibet should be its own country. More than that, though, I found myself feeling personally attacked from the rising chants.  I realize that there are many more implications than just Tibetan freedom if the U.S. or U.N. chooses to get involved.

Global politics is complex: there’s a difference between what I think all people deserve (basic human rights) and how people can work towards attaining them. I wish I could say that in all situations you should always work towards securing for people basic human rights as soon as possible, but unfortunately global politics does not always function in favor of this ideal.

International politics has an established framework, and Tibetans here play their part by demonstrating and trying to draw attention to the cause.

A Tibetan monk even set himself on fire, which garnered an article in the New York Times. I don’t fault Tibetans for fighting for what they believe is right, but walking right in the thick of things forced me to think about my role in global society, and made me more uncomfortable, than reading in a classroom ever could.

Yours,

Michelle Brody

Like what you’ve read?  Read more about Michelle’s study abroad adventures on her blog.

I write to you from the top of the world.

Alright, not actually… I am perched on a top-level berth of the Mumbai Express – my permanent railway residence for the next 36 hours.  We are traveling across the state of Tamil Nadu, somewhere between my travel week-dream of Kerala, and my home this semester in Pune, Maharashtra.  The veg curry and rice I just consumed from the train’s pantry has my tummy gurgling, and I’m craving of a glass of sweet lime soda.

I’ve been spoiled this past week: the freedom of just a backpack and single mandatory destination has allowed me to discover the southern state of Kerala.  In this letter to CMC, I’ve recorded one of the best days of my journey, which came about while exploring the depths of the mountainous tea fields of Munnar, Kerala.

Piled like four eggs in a basket, my friends and I are on a waterfall hunt.  The hum of the rickshaw’s motor swells as we scoot up a hump in the road, then dies out as we go coasting down the other side.  Back and forth we wind our way, down and down into a misty valley, marked by a spray of water.  Falling from a crevice in the midst of sloping tea fields, the water refracts a rainbow before pooling in a whirl and merging with the river’s current.  We learn that 7 visitors have died at this dangerously beautiful place before us, and stand in awe from the bridge.  Not for long, as a little boy races towards us – trying to retrieve the rubber tire he is playing with, now nearly out of control.  “We’ll be back!” we promise, and hike further into tea territory.  Each layer of landscape is like a colorful curtain: green of tea and forest – blue of sky and mist.  Shrines to both Mother Mary and Krishna hide in this collage.  The green and white flag of half moon and star – representing either Islam or Pakistan – flutters in the breeze.  The plurality of India – religion, politics, history – refuses to hide even here, in the most remote area.

The little boy is back and with him is his toddling younger brother.  We follow them to their home, perched on the edge of the falls, where their mother welcomes us and mixes a few sweet lime sodas.  Conversation brings us to the tea workers – their travels from Tamil Nadu for employment, their daily 130 rupee (2.5 dollars) pay, their lack of time, education and energy to raise a protest against the profiteer, mega-corporation TATA.  This family’s resistance has brought them to court twice: Sweet Lime two, Big Business Indian Government nil.

Little clasping hands make leaving conversation and family hard, but a darkening sky and the unknown distance home pull at us.  As we begin to hike the ascent, TATA’s conscience appears in the form of a friendly truck driver who lets us hitch a ride in the bed of his hauler.  Emboldened, we clamber into the next “Horn OK Please” cabby that passes by and laugh at the rickshawalla drivers gaping empty handed.  Luck carries through and books us the final leg in the back of a friendly jeep.  Walking the last mile or so, we arrive at our homestay dirty, sweaty and singing.

Back in the Express I hang upside down from my bed to take in the landscape.  I would swear it was East Texas if I couldn’t see the small white shrines and brightly colored saris dotting the fields.  Only 7 more hours to go…

Signing off now – wish I had the sustenance (or chai) to record more.  Words are no substitute for experience, however, and I hope at best to have provided an ill-focused picture.  I look forward to hearing of all the afternoons turned evenings I know run parallel to my own.  Missing you, missing CMC.

All my best.  Shanti.

Julia Starr