Breaking down myths of study abroad
By Christie Genochio
When the International Studies Program and study abroad affiliates begin their annual courtship of Santa Clara students, a discourse over the merits of foreign travel ensues. Which program? Which country? What classes? Will I graduate on time? Can I afford it?
True, there's a lot to consider. However, there are a few questions that need addressing, so let me break it down:
Myth No. 1: I'm afraid I'll miss my friends. Well, since your friends are probably likeable people, it isn't unreasonable to assume you'll miss them. But there will be other people in the program, people well worth missing when you return home to the United States. Also, with the wonders of e-mail, instant messenger and cell phones, it isn't difficult to keep in touch.
Besides, separating from the comfort of familiar society can be infinitely more rewarding. Katie Dooling, a senior communication major who participated in the Santa Clara Durham program and the Syracuse London semester in 2004, made a point of extricating herself from the American bubble by claiming some "alone time" during her travels.
"I had at least a handful of days where I was completely alone, and it was great -- it was really great. I would go to a museum, I would eat by myself ... It was just me, alone, with the city, and it was summer, and it was beautiful. It was just being there," says Dooling.
Myth No. 2: It'll throw off my groove. Au contraire. While a semester or year abroad may be a small hiccup in your four-year college scheme, it's the good kind of hiccup, the I-drank-that-champagne-a-tad-too-quickly-but-damn-was-it-tasty sort of hiccup. When you come home, classes, clubs and jobs will still be there. You won't be punished for your peregrinations.
In fact, you'll be able to take classes you never would have taken at home and see sights relevant to your studies and interests.
Santa Clara has a summer program retracing the Normandy invasion. There are immersion trips to El Salvador and Cuba. Business and media-related internships are offered in London. There is a European Union program that tours the continent and concentrates on European politics, jurisprudence and economy. The list of opportunities like these goes on and on.
Myth No. 3: What if the rest of the world hates me because I'm American? Fine, I hate them, too. Please. In the words of my diplomatic and rather dashing Spanish hostel-mate, Sergio, "The Europeans, especially the French, think Americans are ... special. But the French, they are special, too. Sometimes Europe just doesn't understand how a country so rich, that has so much, can have such problems."
If you believe we are internationally despised, you aren't giving the world credit for appreciating the difference between a nation and an individual. Besides, the only way to improve international relations is to have international relations. No one is going to attack you unless you wear a T-shirt that says "I heart the war in Iraq," yell at Italian waiters for slow service and small portions, and tell people they should thank you because you aren't speaking German.
"I was walking through the (London) tubes one day, and there was the most beautiful violin music coming from down the tunnel," remembers senior theatre major Maren Lovgren. "I turned to my right and there was this homeless man pretending to play the violin. And I laughed, and he laughed at my laughing, and we laughed together, and it was just such a beautiful moment."
Moments like these are why we leave home, friends and school. It's the experience of being there. Not being a tourist or a student or a visitor, but foregoing the appellations and categorizations and just being.
As educated Americans and members of an increasingly globalized world, the opportunity to travel means more than collecting stamps in our passports and posting pictures of the Gobi Desert or the Himalayas on MySpace.
It means challenging indoctrinated values, solidifying a sense of identity in both universal and personal contexts, educating ourselves and others by participating in the ongoing cultural dialogue generated by the very act of allowing oneself to be the foreigner, the alien, the Other in somebody else's homeland. And that's what makes it all worth it. It just takes a little bravery.
Christie Genochio spent the summer of 2004 participating in the Santa Clara Durham program and her junior year at Oxford. She is Scene editor for The Santa Clara.