More Greece

Greece

It would have been almost too poetic to get stuck in London on our way back to the United States. Iceland sure gave us a run for our money, as its infamous volcano spewed threats of airport closures and teased us for the days of travel it had already stolen.

I jump ahead, let me rewind to the final week of my European adventures.

For almost 20 years Miami students have taken part in a sailing trip around Greece after their program ended, sometimes with as many as forty students. This year, I planned the trip and went with 10 other Miami kids and a high school friend who was studying in Liverpool. The sailing trip was through GreekSails, where we were able to charter three sail boats and travel each day through the sea to various islands and towns in Greece. Each morning we began sailing, led by our fearless skipper Graham, in a fleet of the three boats. During the day, we laid around the deck and viewed the pristine waters and took in the strong Mediterranean sun. In the afternoon we docked at various small harbor towns, took in the adorable colored houses and overcrowded docks, and did more damage to our bank accounts via shopping. At night we seized the moments of our last nights in Europe (including the drinking age) and made (or lost) memories galore.



We traveled for over 24 hours to get to Greece after a long bus ride from Athens to Poros, a nightmare with checking luggage and weight restrictions (let’s put it this way, we each wore layers upon layers of one another’s clothing to bring the weight down a few kilos) and a complete language barrier with the people picking us up. However, we eventually made it to the beautiful town of Poros where we would begin our trip.

We were divided into three boats, one for the boys and two for the girls. I was on a boat with four of my sorority sisters. We were surprised to see the small space we were to live in, but I don’t know what we expected! We had large backpacks (which I am happy to say I will never use again now that I’m home) and two small bunkrooms. We made it work though, and got to know each other on a whole other level!

The trip focused on the ?, and we visited a few of the cities along the main coast as well as the island of Hydra. Honestly, it was such an authentic trip. The towns we visited were unspoiled by tourists and the crystal clear water demonstrated the dedication to the beauty of the country, untouched by our human destruction. The Greek people were so friendly, ushering us into restaurants where they would pick the lemons right off the trees and “Mother” would be cooking in the back to give us a “real” Greek meal. They really do eat Greek salads for every meal. Often they would even give us free food or drinks to make us feel welcome to their home.



I think one of my favorite destinations was Hydra. It was more on the touristy side, but still seemed relatively untouched by the rest of the world. It was a smaller island and the town was full of shops (mostly jewelry, which may be a reason I liked it so much). There were no cars or anything, only donkeys, which were actually labeled with miniature license plates. We were able to climb up onto some rocks and cliff dive into the crystal clear water, a turquoise color that seemed painted onto the scenery, before enjoying cocktails and a fine seafood dinner overlooking the sunset. It was a pretty perfect vacation.

Other highlights included:
Seeing a professional gold digger (no older than 20) working her way onto a yacht full of 60 year olds
Seeing a school of dolphins swimming past our boats
Listening to our skippers stories about the pirates that still haunt the seas
Getting towed behind the back of our sailboat while our skipper dragged us along with buoys
Lindsey falling into the water off the back of the boat
Learning that sailing is really hard
Putting 75 SPF my face every half hour and still getting a little too pink
Trying to see inside the large yachts docked in the many ports
Seeing the 8 billion stray cats that are everywhere in Greece, be warned
Taking showers off the back of the boat with ice cold water
Eating really, really fresh calamari
Seeing and smelling the beautiful flowers that were everywhere, I probably took at least 200 pictures of just plants



Honestly it was the perfect end to a pretty perfect semester.

The last day we headed to Athens, where we actually drove past the bank that had been fire-bombed during the Greek riots over the economy. Besides that, however, we were relatively untouched by the discontent haunting the island-country. We were able to visit the Acropolis, which really is in the middle of the city on a huge plateau. We then headed outside of Athens and stayed in apartments before waking up early the next morning to catch our flights out.



I flew back with my sorority sister Cary who is also from Connecticut. She and I made our way to Europe together, and back in January (if you remember) got stuck in London due to snowstorms. Apparently, London has something against us for no sooner have we started our voyage that airports in Ireland, Scotland, and the UK started to close. These closures worked south, haunting London Heathrow, where we connecting to our flight to New York’s beloved JFK. We watched the news on our blackberries with worried eyes and couldn’t help but laugh at the inevitability of repeating our stressful trip to Europe on our way home. Luckily, all of our knocking on wood and crossed fingers paid off. We were one of the last flights out of London before the airport closed due to ash. And soon enough we were on our way back to the land of jumbo-sized coffees and cable television. Ah, home sweet home.

Beer Olympics

Prom

MUDEC Farewells

It’s our last week in the chateau (some people today is the last day!) and I have a sense of foreboding mixed with excitement, as our eagerness to see our families, friends, Starbucks, and car keys is thwarted by the nostalgia of how great our semester has been. I cannot believe how fast everything has gone. It was only yesterday that I was stuck in blizzarding London, and here I am in the sun of Differndage saying goodbye to my 129 new friends. How do you sum up everything from this experience in one blog entry?

I guess there’s just the things I am going to miss:
1. Drinking beer out of a boot.
2. Asking people where they are going for the weekend, and hearing things from Paris to Turkey to Ireland. And it being completely acceptable.
3. Going to high school. Aka, our chateau, complete with the lockers, a common room, and a lunch hour and cafeteria. Not to mention the amazing, small world group of friends.
4. Packing my stupid hiking backpack every weekend and attempting to see if it’ll fit in Ryanair storage bins.
5. Drinking our way to cities and sleeping our way home.
6. Going to places I am learning about in history class.
7. Skype. JOKE. Can’t wait to see everyone’s faces for real!
8. Those little old delinquents that we’ve grown so fond of on the playground.
9. Acting like the Euro is monopoly money. (And believing it)
10. Those amazing places I have been to.
11. The people. Honestly, I can’t believe how many amazing people I have met.
12. Going to school in a castle.
13. Pretending to be at Hogwarts. Every day.
14. Being about two months behind on the popular music scene.
15. Bofferding.
16. Getting a café et croissant in the morning.
17. The word Moien.
18. From ash clouds to Polish presidents, I really feel like I’ve been where the news is, and little, old Oxford won’t seem the same.
19. Taking 10,000 photos a week. And uploading them all to Facebook and CVS.
20. Being in EUROPE and getting to see it up close and personal

Honestly, this list could go on and on and on. I just can’t believe it’s ending. I know everyone’s been caught up in this whole idea of making it last and remembering every detail. But, it was the best time of my life, and I will always remember that.

Things that dominated our last week at MUDEC included the school-sponsored “prom.” A final gala, the evening included a cruise down a river before being bussed to a restaurant for awards and dinner and a grand finale of a dance floor and bar. The entire program decked ourselves out in our top-notch clothing, actually did our hair and make-up, and headed to our favorite park to enjoy a few glasses of wine and some prom-themed photos. The night was everything a prom should be… wayyyyy too much fun! I had such a blast with everyone and felt a tad nostalgic for the high school days of old as I relished in the company of the 120 or so students I have become incredibly close with and the teachers who know us all by name. We all danced our booties off, laughed at inside jokes, and relished in our last days of Europe.

Another highlight included a Saturday Fun Day of Beer Olympics. Students divided themselves into teams of four, picked a country, decked themselves out in costume, and got ready to compete in the ultimate challenges. Teams included Vatican City (myself, dressed as a nun), Somalia (dressed as pirates), Italy (mustaches and flags and jerseys) and the Confederacy (they were actually able to find Confederate flags with monster trucks on them.) Each team made up chants, our’s: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, the power of Christ compels you! The Confederacy’s: I take my wife and hit her, in the South we’re still bitter. As you can imagine, not the most serious chants. Overall, everyone enjoyed the beautiful Luxembourg spring weather and our last sips of beloved Bofferding.

Finals dominated the last few days, as did packing. Neither overly exciting. Kate and I were upset on our last day to have a major falling out with our host mom. It was unfortunate to have such sour relations with someone we had lived with for so long, but it seemed that our differences were irreconcilable. I know that both of us were glad to quit her house and hope to never hear from her again. I do wish that my amazing experience in Luxembourg had been rounded out by a wonderful experience with a host family, but I guess you can’t have your cake and eat it to.

After packing and saying tearful goodbyes to our classmates, people made there way to all parts of the globe, from Germany to Chicago, France, Spain, China, Ohio, New York, and for me and 13 friends…. GREECE.

Barcelona

When I packed for Barcelona I was anticipating a nice three-day weekend away with the girls. It was going to be perfect, just a long weekend away and my first visit to Spain. I was actually even a little disappointed I would only be in Spain for three days, as though I was really depriving myself of the full Spanish experience.

Our flight times worked out that we would have three full days in the land of sun before getting home before noon on Sunday. I left at 2 AM Thursday morning (basically the middle of the night on Wednesday) and we arrived in Barcelona to a shining sun, a sketchy hospital, but high hopes for a great weekend. Then we got the message from Sarah, who was supposed to meet us later that day. Her flight (which was to leave only hours after ours) was cancelled due to something really weird. I don’t think we even understood what the cancellation was. Only later were we to learn that our lives would soon be ruled by Icelandic volcanic ash.

But we weren’t even going to start thinking about that until Friday night, so we still had a few days to become exposed to this Spanish city that would soon capture all of our hearts. Barcelona is such a vibrant city. Vibrant was the word that echoed in my head as I became acquainted with the small streets, the open markets, the beaches, and the hippie taste that permeates every aspect of the city. Even the colors just popped, from the glow of a bright orange sun to the fresh apples and bananas and pomegranates that bordered every store window to the golden sand to the Gaudi architecture. I was blown away by the free spirit of the people, as they just meandered through the town and you could tell time meant little. Even the idea of a siesta illustrates their lifestyle, and one that we would soon adopt. I ate fresh fruit, listened to live music, was drawn in by street performers, enjoyed sangria on the sandy beaches, and had the time of my life with seven beautiful women who I will always associate with my trip to Spain.


The first few days in Spain we decided it would be a good idea to indulge. Why not? It was one of our last weekends traveling and it was just us girls. So Friday night we partook in our self-proclaimed Booze Cruise. We signed up for an hour and half ride along the Barcelona coast, bought a few boxes (classy, right?) of sangria, got nice and dressed up and boarded our ferry. We were pleased to see we were not alone. We were amongst a 10th grade Spanish field trip to Barcelona. Hello, good times. We proceeded to indulge in our sangria and made great friends with the sixteen year olds, only one of whom spoke enough English to communicate. Apparently Kiyo’s and Taylor’s Spanish is very different than Catalan Spanish. And, apparently the drinking age in Spain is 18 not 16 so these kids should not have been allowed to drink our sangria. Overall, I don’t think I have laughed so hard in a long time. Amazing memories.

Then, to further our indulgence of a great weekend, we decided to take my friend’s advice and go on a bike tour of the city through Flat Tire Bike Tours. After a little bit of a rough time finding the meeting place, we took off on a great way to see Barcelon. They say riding a bike comes back to you really quickly. They (whoever they are) were right. I don’t think I’ve been on a bike in years, and it was so much fun. I think we all channeled our inner five-year-old selves and enjoyed biking up the hills and gliding down. Though, we did have to bike on busy car roads and through throngs of crowds. That was a little more of a challenge. However, through the tour we got to see all the sights of Barcelona! One of our favorites was the Parc de la Ciutadella and the Cascada Fountain, where we took a nice little photo shoot.
The tour included the Gaudi church, the Arc de Triomf, the pier, and the Olympic village. We also got to spend some time at the beach drinking sangria and enjoying the sunset. Also, during our tour we had a mishap when one family (who apparently had never learned to ride bikes) had the dad knock his daughter off. After a screaming fit from the 13 year old girl, the family decided to take her to the hospital. Later, our guides told us nothing was wrong with her except a “spoilt childhood.” After the tour our guides were kind enough to take us to the local bar, where we enjoyed an evening with the Barcelona locals. I know we’ll never forget Buddah or Pete, our gracious guides. So many laughs.

After a weekend of exciting things and beautiful weather, we heard that our flight on Sunday was cancelled. Thus began a frantic search for forms of transportation. Days later we had:

1. Called our dean, who suggested we get a bus to come get us for 400 euro a person. No thanks.
2. Had our flight rescheduled to Monday.
3. Had our Monday flight rescheduled to Wednesday.
4. Had our Wednesday flight rescheduled to never.
5. Attempted to get train tickets, that were sold out.
6. Told there were no rental cars in Barcelona left.
7. There were no rental cars in Spain that we could take over the border.
8. There were no flights anywhere.
9. Attempted to bribe other MUDEC students to come pick us up.
10. Decided to rent segways and ride them to Luxembourg.
11. Realized segways would die before they got to France.
12. Discussed going back to the bike tour place to see if they would drive us home.
13. Finally bought a 14 hour bus ride ticket to Paris.
14. Tried to buy train tickets from Paris to Luxembourg.
15. Some of us bought flights for Friday.
16. Found out our flight on Thursday was a go ahead.
17. Got home from Barcelona over a week after we had left.
18. Wouldn’t trade the experience for the world.


During this time of rapid search for ways of getting home, we decided to embrace our time in Barcelona. We enjoyed too much shopping on Las Ramblas, fresh fruit from the main market, too much sun bathing and sangria, a trip to the beautiful Park Guell (where we saw street vendors run from the cops), and a day trip to a small beach town called Stiges.

Overall, although we ended up being stuck in Barcelona and seeing our bank accounts rapidly decreasing and our teachers’ emails getting less sympathetic after a week of missing class, I have to say it was one of the funniest and best things that has happened to me. Hey, you’re only young once, and, hopefully, only stuck in Barcelona once.

Cracow

You can only imagine that after our visit to Auschwitz, it was a much-subdued trip to our second destination in Poland, Cracow. I never thought I would be in Poland. Honestly, it’s just not a country I thought much of visiting and I was a little confused when I got the Verizon text message, “Welcome to Poland. For roaming support, call yada yada yada.” However, soon we would embrace more about the Poles than we ever would have expected.

We arrived to Cracow shortly before seven, checked into our hotel, got dressed and sped off to a traditional Jewish dinner complete with live music. It was a pretty great meal, and comforting to be around friends and to see Jewish culture being appreciated after our visit before. The dinner went well and we all inhaled the delicious food in front of us before heading home for an early night to sleep. We had another long day on Saturday for a tour of traditional Cracow.

Cracow is the second largest city in Poland and probably the most popular for tourists. From early 7th century Wawel Hill and medieval castles to the center of the General Government for the Nazis to a site of communism, Cracow is a city of history. And, we were lucky to be able to spend two days seeing the history of the city and the unprecedented future.

We had a special tour guide for the city, who accompanied from site to site. The first stop was the old Gestapo prison and an exhibit about Cracow’s role in the war. The prison was interesting and sad, with some of the cells having writing on them in all languages, some of the inscriptions the last thing prisoners would ever say. However, while we there we got shocking news. On his way to honor the anniversary of the massacre of Poles in the Soviet Union, the president of Poland was killed in a plane accident, along with his wife and other top government officials. We were shocked to hear the news, but not as shocked as the people of Poland.

Obviously, it was weird being in the country of Poland while in underwent such a shocking part in its history. Poland is rarely front line news, but while we were there it was all over the major news stations. It was weird. We saw a country while it got the news and the reaction of the people.

At first we were surprised because it seemed like no one really cared. Our tour guide told us how he was not a very popular president, and was very conservative and not well liked amongst the young people. While we continued our tour of the city, we saw the sites of mourning for the anniversary of Pope Benedict’s death (six years ealier) and there were flowers everywhere and people mourning. At the same time, there did not seem to be this type of mourning for the president who had died that day. However, as we toured churches, we saw more people in mourning, with large portraits of the president on display surrounded by flowers and candles. It was interesting to see the reaction of the general population and the conservative Catholic population.

Despite the depression set in by the death of the president, we attempted to continue our tour of the city. Cracow was beautiful, despite wet and cold weather. We saw it’s old university where there was an old globe that attempted to show where America was (it was south of Africa and only South America existed). We also saw the city square filled with horse drawn carriages and decorated cathedrals. The park around the Cracow circles the entire city and was beautiful as well. We were not, however, able to go into a lot places due to the national tragedy.

One of the more important places we saw was the site of the old Jewish ghetto, the Jewish ghetto used by the Nazi’s, and Oskar Schindler’s factory. The ghetto in Cracow was created to house all of the Jews from the city, where they were forced to move and then walled in. Part of the wall was still remaining, with the top of it resembling the tops of gravestones. In the Cracow ghetto, the Nazi’s divided those who were able to work from those who were unable. 15,000 Jews were forced to live in a place that would normally hold about 3,000. The Nazi’s eventually liquidated the ghetto, systematically sending the residents to death and concentration camps, many being sent to Auschwitz. Now, at the site there is one chair statue representing one thousand Jews deported. Also at this center square where the memorial is is the site of a pharmacy where a pharmacist did what he could do to save as many Jews as possible, helping provide medicine and aid to those who’s lives were in jeopardy. It was lightening to see the site of such a hero.

From the Cracow ghetto, we went to see where Oskar Schindler’s factory had been where he had saved Jews by putting them on a list to provide them work at a factory and save them from the death camp. We had watched Schindler’s List (highly recommended) on our way to Auschwitz, and it was fascinating and relieving to see that such a place was real. While in Cracow we also saw a lot of the places where the movie was filmed, again making it feel more real.

We also saw old synagogues in the old Jewish district, which the Nazis used as stables or dumping grounds. We viewed cemeteries where the Nazis had knocked down the gravestones and used them to pave roads. As I mentioned in my previous entry, it was shocking to see how in every way the Nazi’s attempted to destroy the Jewish people.

Overall, Cracow was a wonderful city, although surrounded by so many depressing events. The base course really allowed me to see the places we had been studying and apply what I had learned to reality, something really special to my education.

Auschwitz

Human kindness is one of the most pure and beautiful things in the world. It demonstrates the point of life, what makes one hope for a perfected world. Human destruction is the worst.

I don’t know what I expected on my visit to Auschwitz. What can you possibly expect from one of the most horrendous places in the history of humanity? Especially when this history is younger than my grandparents. When I think of the Holocaust, I think of those survival stories. It all stems from my first exposure to the Holocaust, the children’s’ novel, Number the Stars. I remember reading it in fourth grade, having a vague idea of the mass murder of the Jewish. It was all just a story. A scary story at that. But more importantly, it was the story of survivals. Number the Stars was about a family hiding a little girl amongst them, before she was saved by fleeing in a boat. (Over a decade later, I see that this children’s story was based on the heroic efforts of the Danes, but, back when I was ten, it seemed logical that everyone would save who they could.) The stories I heard, the stories I associated with this horrendous history were those of survival. I guess ten is still too young to broach the subject of extermination. And, maybe, ten is when that foundation is built and twenty is when that foundation is shaken.

Extermination is a word associated with rats, termites, even dandelions. Not people. So, I guess it is no surprise that I needed to be older, more educated, more mature to understand how this word applied to people. And, even at twenty, I cannot wrap my head around the horrors, nor do I think I ever will be able to. My Rise of Hitler class is the first time I was really forced to come face to face with the realities of what my species had done. Normally, you can almost avoid this reality, hiding behind the survival stories, staying you would have done differently if you were there, being loss the heroics of some people. But visiting Auschwitz shows you that it happened. Those cattle cars were real. Those barracks were real. Those stolen possessions were real. Those family photographs were of real people. And those gas chambers killed those real people. It is a crushing realization, but a necessary one.

At Auschwitz, it was interesting to see what different things affected different people. Everyone had that one image that struck them and pulled on their heartstrings. Most of the time, it’s something real that they would never have thought they would see. For one of my friends, it was the room full of human hair. How could people steal someone’s hair? Another friend, it was the toothbrushes. These people did not know that even if they survived the selection process they would still not be thinking of their teeth. Another friend, it was the end of the train tracks. Auschwitz was a final destination, not one stop. Another friend, it was the pictures of a two year old after being liberated after use for medical experimentation. For my mom, I knew it would be the piles of baby shoes. None of these children would have made it; there was no hope from the minute they got aboard the transports.

For me, it was not something from the 1940’s. It was a modern exhibit. It was the replica of the gas chambers. The replica was about the size of a large dollhouse, demonstrating the crowded process of pushing people through the lines to their death. It showed the line of people above ground, waiting to descend a staircase. At the bottom of the staircase were little figurines shown undressing and folding their clothes. It was crowded with figurines of all different sizes. The next room showed the packed gas chamber, where people were pushed up one against one another, gasping for air before that air turned poisonous. Above them was the crematorium, where Jewish prisoners were forced to take away even these people’s right to a final resting ground. The model was behind a glass case and was made entirely of white. It was no taller than my hips and only showed the bare essentials of the process. When the Nazis fled the camp from invading Soviets, they attempted to destroy the evidence of the mass crime they committed, destroying the gas chambers and crematorium behind them. This model showed what it would have looked like, and showed the number of people it was to destroy in that frozen time. And in that model, one thing stuck with me. It was one little figurine in the undressing room. None of the figurines had especially distinct facial figures, but this one had the curve of a woman and in her arms was a small lump, resembling a baby. The figure could have been no larger than a few inches, but to me it just represented something entirely different. It was this mother walking to her death, holding a child who had barely experienced life. At this point, she must have known death was imminent. Or was she still unsure of what lay ahead? Soon, these figures, who were at one point real people, would be led to extermination. Looking at this I thought back to the movie Schindler’s List we had watched on our way to Poland. There is a scene in the movie when you see people lining up to go down the staircase. I thought of these people when I looked at this model. It was so real. These were not just figurines, these were people, with fears, hopes, and it was unearthing to see the model. It made the remains of the gas chambers that we were to view later in the day more real.

The thing with Auschwitz was that it did not feel real. Viewing the camp, just the enormity of it, you feel as if you are on a stage set, reenacting a horror movie. The camps was much larger than I had anticipated, but beyond that, it was the epitome of horror that I had expected. I could place the survival stories I had heard, from movies to books to lectures, into this horrific camp. The bunks, built to hold 40 horses but would eventually hold up to a thousand people, were just as horrifying as they had been described. Even while we were visiting in April we could feel the cold wind that lashed at you on the flat fields. But how could such a place be real? How you could you even fathom the amount of people whose lives were destroyed here? We were walking on the same ground that millions before us had treaded, being led obliviously to their systematic death. We were walking on a mass grave.

It was hard to remember that this was a mass grave. When the Nazi’s attempted to destroy the Jewish people, they did not stop at just murder. As explained during our tour, the Jewish religion deems human remains a sacred part of the religion, and states that they should not be touched after death. The Nazi’s defaced even this sacred belief, depriving millions of Jews the right to a burial and billions of people places to mourn their loved ones. It was at Auschwitz that these people’s remains were forced into ash that would disappear into the clouds or ponds around the camp. This death camp was the final resting place for millions of people. And the Nazi’s not only killed them, but destroyed parts of their identity. Never before had I thought on the fact that each body had been burned and identity destroyed. The extermination was not only an attempt to destroy the lives of the Jewish people, but also their individuality and respect. These were concepts that before I did not understand before visiting Auschwitz.

As I lagged behind on the tour I began to talk with Professor Backes, one of the teachers accompanying us on the trip. As we strolled behind the tour group, Professor Backes said, “Auschwitz is somewhere everyone should go. It’s important each person understand.” I let the thought sink it, still not agreeing or disagreeing. Auschwitz was definitely educational. It was at this place that women, men, children, elderly, babies, were led to their quiet death or to years of suffering. This was the actual land they walked on and the shacks they were forced to live in. But, at the same time, it was almost too much to really comprehend. It was huge. It was scary. It looked fake. The shoes, hair, clothing, combs, suitcases piled up in showcases reminded me of museum exhibits. The manicured lawns in the first part of the camp reminded me of the front yards of government buildings. The tour groups taking photos in matching tee-shirts reminded me of a surreal experience. It just didn’t seem to be the place of nightmares. However, when I stepped back, when I let all the other people there go from my mind, and concentrated on one thing, on that one bunk bed in that one cabin, or that one stair to the gas chambers, or to that small white model holding the baby in its arms, I remembered and mourned the reality of such a place.

Prague

I never intended to take so much time between writing blog posts, so, dear readers (if there are any) I deeply apologize. For those of you who follow the news, or can’t escape it, you understand when I say that I was legitimately stranded in Spain and unable to flee home to lovely Luxembourg.

However, before I got into THAT story, I can work to update you on my previous trip to Prague, Cracow, and Auschwitz with my class. After saying goodbye to my mom and a wonderful week in Italy, I spent five days traveling through Eastern Europe with forty other MUDEC students and four teachers. As I may have explained in a previous entry, every MUDEC student is enrolled in a “base course.” There are four options for base courses, and I am enrolled in a history (of course), the Rise and Fall of Adolf Hitler. The class is taught by Emile Haag, one of the most amazing, knowledgeable, and respected teachers I have ever. Dr. Haag has been teaching Luxembourgish students for forty years and knows his material like the back of his own hand. (Side note, that’s an awful expression, I have a hard time explaining the back of my hand, you have a better chance of me explaining every detail of the Facebook homepage.) Haag began teaching at MUDEC before he even spoke English, writing out his lectures and translating them and then reading them aloud. Apparently he was fluent in a year’s time. Now, he needs no help, and sits in the front of our class and tells us the story of World War Two. For him, and for his students, it is not about learning history or lecturing, but rather a true story, horrific and spectacular, that has shaped our current world. He is a Britannica Encyclopedia. If I am ever on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, he will absolutely be my phone call.

The first stop on our trip is Prague, where all forty students were to meet for two nights and to explore the city that everyone loves. Praha is a students’ dream, famous for its beauty and pub-crawls, as well as not being on the Euro. A blessing in and off itself. And, I was one more student won over by its charm and lack of EU monetary value. Prague is a beauty because, unlike most European, cities, it was not bombed out and completely decimated. Compared to Munich, where ever plague states “after being destroyed in 1944, so and so was rebuilt…” Prague still has old world charm, complete with bridges, monuments, castles, cobblestone roads, and red roofs.

We met in Prague on the Tuesday after Easter and were treated right away to a traditional dinner, complete with pork knuckle, duck, and cured cheese. It was an experience, but I have to say, the good thing with broke students, is that they’re usually starving and up to trying anything! Tuesday night was a low key one for everyone after a day of traveling, and most people headed to bed at our hotel.

Wednesday, on the other hand, was a long day. We started the day bright and early and headed out on an all-day walking tour of the city. The class was divided into two groups, but luckily I was with most of my friends so it worked out. Our tour guide was young and interesting and did a great job of keeping us entertained. The tour was definitely long, but Prague has a fascinating history, from being part of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire to Nazi invasion to a more recent history of communism. We learned how each part of their history has affected the city, and the Czech Republic as a whole. We spent the morning in the main part of the city, where I became quickly enamored with the main market square. Since it was Easter season, there were open markets swarming the open square. Each booth sold everything, from chocolate covered fruit (Taylor’s and my favorite) to decorated steins to a traditional Czech pastry. My favorite thing sold in the markets accompanied a not so pleasant tradition. According to years past, on the Monday after Easter guys will go around with decorated whips and beat girls up. In return, girls must present them with a painted egg. Apparently this will bring good luck. The market had millions of painted eggs for sale (I indulged) but I have to say I wasn’t too appreciative of the tradition. As our tour dragged on, (it was nine hours after all) Taylor, Jordan, and I took the liberty off getting separated from the group and meandered back to the center square, where we ate fresh kebabs, fruit, bought eggs, and listened to live music amongst the swarming crowd.

Before ditching, I hesitate to call it ditching, we’re good students, I swear, the group went across the river that separates Prague into two parts and up a large hill to the old Prague castle. It was so cool to see something so old, and we got to see the old quarter where royal and important people used to live. However, we were unable to go into a lot of the important sites due to a visit by our very own President Obama. Barack ole boy was in Prague signing a nuclear arms treaty, so we had to force our way through swarms of media trucks and keep out of roadblocks. However, it was cool to know our president was right there. We all got a little nostalgic for home. The trip up the hill also offered some spectacular views of Prague!


Another important site on our tour was the old Jewish ghetto. This has one of the oldest still functioning synogogues in Europe and was also the site of what Hitler hoped would be a museum to “an extinct race.” The ghetto was located in an unwanted part of the city, lower than the rest of the city and considered swamp land. Our tour guide told us how the Nazi’s did not invent the idea of labeling the Jewish people with the star of David, but rather that this system of marking the Jewish was prevalent in early history. We also saw the old Jewish cemetery. The Jews were only given a certain of land to bury their dead. Because they do not believe in cremation, they were forced to start burying bodies in layers. Some layers were seven deep. Taylor had been on a previous tour of Prague and told us how her tour guide had related the design of the Prague Jewish cemetery to the design of the Berlin Holocaust memorial, with all the different layers and sizes. It was definitely an interesting comparison. It was eye opening to see how the persecution of the Jewish people really predated the Nazi’s.

One highlight of the two-day stay in Prague was the infamous pub-crawl. Our class is made up of about 40 people, so we decided to do a little group bonding and head out on a different kind of tour of the city. We all met up at the clock tower (not as cool as the Glockenspiel in Munich, but pretty awesome nonetheless) It was an awesome night as our group got closer, had inside jokes that most of us will never forget, and had a great time.

I think we were all really sad to see our trip in Prague end, as most of believed it would be the highlight of our base course tour. We were to hop on a bus and drive to Auschwitz, Poland. We all wished we’d had more time to explore such a cool and different city. We lucked out, the bus ended up being hours late and we were told by our teacher’s to again go explore the city. Taylor and I took the opportunity to have some coffee by Charles Bridge and watch the sights and listen to the sounds of the city before running into more people in our group and heading again to our favorite location, the city square. I was really going to be sad saying goodbye to this!

Tuscany

Under the Tuscan Sun has nothing on real Tuscany. Yeah, you still have those sweeping views, those adorable towns, those friendly Italians, but there is no way to capture the beauty or the charm of such a place.

My mom and I rented a car and my mom was quite the trooper. She drove stick shift in a foreign country where the drivers are absolutely insane. No, seriously, drivers in Italy have nothing on any other country, they do not believe in speed limits or blinkers, among other things. We rented the car so we could tour through the Tuscan countryside unabridged. However, I cannot read maps, and that didn’t always work. On our way from Florence to Volterra, the town in Tuscany we were staying in, we went at least two hours out of our way. Despite that, we loved seeing the countryside and made it to Volterra safely.

Volterra is actually the real town that Stephanie Meyer based parts of her book Twilight on. When I learned we were going there, I started preparing myself to meet the Volturri or Edward Cullen, and was very disappointed to not find either. However, Volterra is the prime medieval town, and I could easily see it being the home of violent vampire. It is one of the walled towns that speckles Tuscany, completely surrounded by solid stone walls and housing cobble stone roads and small shops and apartments, all quite un-navigable.

From Volterra we were able to drive to other Tuscan towns and really get to see the countryside, including San Giminano, Monteriggione, Siena. All the towns were adorable, but we were hindered by two big problems. One, pouring down rain. It was just awful weather the entire time we were in Tuscany, with only small respites in the torrential downpours to take a few photos. However, I was able to break in my new umbrella that I love and my mom got to wear her new rain boots. The second thing was that it was Easter. While it sounds nice to be in Italy for such a holiday, it was actually pretty close to a nightmare. We have to remember that Easter to the Italian Catholics owns every other American holidays put together. The crowds were impossible to navigate and the parking was.. yikes. But! We got lucky, were able to squeeze into some restaurants that were not completely booked and see entire Italian families celebrating a great holiday.


Overall, I loved Tuscany but I just wish the weather had been better. The views are just breathtaking, and really reminded me of Ireland and the Ring of Beara. If we had had more sun, I would have frolicked in the fields for hours.


We left Tuscany and headed south to Rome, where we had booked a hotel for the night in a beach town outside the city before catching our different flights the next day. It was hard to get in a car again and the drive was a little long, but we made it and saw a beautiful Italian beach at sunset and checked into our hotel. At this point we were exhausted and very, very sick of pasta and pizza. So we indulged and went to a Wild West themed restaurant and ate nachos. It was heavenly.

Another funny aspect of this trip was getting directions to the airport. Our receptionist had it all summarized, “NOTHING is easy in Italy! Before we had Michelangelo, now we have no idea.” Against all odds, we made it to the airport safely and on time and said a tearful goodbye, from the movies. It was so great to see my mom, only a month and half til the Mulligan girls are reunited again!

Cinque Terre

Cinque Terre is heaven on earth. I am not kidding. It is the most beautiful place in the world and I am the luckiest person ever for getting to go there. I am going back at least one more time in my life. I have never been so happy and content or in love with one place as I was with the five coastal towns in Italy.

Cinque Terre is composed of Monterosso, Vernazza, Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore, all small towns that line the mountains and beaches of the coast of the Italian Riviera. The towns are connected via a small train and, more importantly, a hiking path of the mountains that offers stunning views of both the Mediterranean blue water and the adorable, colorful villages alive with light. I was in looooove.

The day we got in, despite a not so great car ride on the windy roads after a night out with the Banisters and Lisa, the weather was amazing the view from our hotel balcony was breathtaking. We dropped our bags, put on our flip flops, and headed out to explore this paradise. We wandered the European version of a boardwalk, full of cafes and people dining and wining with the spectacular views. We stayed in Monterosso, the first town on the strip and the one with the largest beach. We were lucky the weather was so beautiful, as people sunbathed and strolled the sand. The town has beautiful buildings, all painted bright beach colors, and packed together on the mountainous terrain. Ah, words cannot even begin to describe to you how beautiful.


One of the famous walking paths in Cinque Terre is “Lovers Lane,” a romantic walk along one of the high bluffs that has been thronged with lovers, young and old, for generations. The entire path is carved up with initials of those enamored with one another, whether it is on the fence, the rocks, the benches, or even the plants and trees, hearts and words of love adorn the pathway. There is also a plethora of locks chained on to everything and anything. Two people will be locked in love by placing a lock on the rope or fencing or even old fishing net on the mountain, and taking the key. Some keys are engraved, some say Cinque Terre, and some are every day locks. The couples everywhere was adorable, as you saw young teenagers and older grandparents.

The dining was amazing, the people were friendly, the weather was beautiful, the sights were breathtaking… I never wanted to leave. Ah, I still sigh thinking back on my little piece of paradise.

Florence

Ah, Firenze.

I was anxious to get to Florence after hearing stories of the city from Olly and Suzie who had studied there last semester and Kiyo who had visited a few weeks before. It is one of those European cities you always hear with a sigh and picture as the epitome of Italy.

My mom and I took a train from Venice to Florence, which was very easy, although we misunderstood that seats are assigned and looked quite goofy with all our luggage. We got into Florence and grabbed a cheap cab to our hotel, ooing and ahing out the windows at the spectacular views of the famous Duomo and the streets crowded with markets, mopeds, and tourists. The hotel in Florence was by far our favorite of the week, very modern and funky art themed. The elevator went through a glass roof to the higher floors and the lobby was the home of statues that reminded me of the talking stone face from Legends of the Hidden Temple. We dropped our bags and headed out to take advantage of the sunshine!

We stopped and had a café on the Duomo square, which was a little touristy but you just couldn’t defeat the views. We took our time and enjoyed the strong Italian coffee (at the beginning of the week I couldn’t believe they drank expresso’s so religiously, now I’ve joined the cult following) before heading to one of the city’s most famous sites, Michelangelo’s David. We took our time in the museum that houses the masterpiece, but we when we turned the corner to the main exhibit, you are almost immediately overwhelmed by the brilliance, and size, of the statue. David is housed beneath a glass dome at the end of the corridor, high on a pedestal. It is absolutely breathtaking. I was shocked by the massive size of the statue; I guess I was picturing something smaller. I am not one to go on and on about art, but David was amazing. The beauty and detail shown on him was remarkable, from the Adams apple to the veins on his hand. You can tell how close attention Michelangelo paid to the human body. I was amazed and even snuck a photo before getting yelled at by the scary female guard.

Another famous museum we visited during our two day stay was Florence’s Uffizi, home of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, Titian’s Venus of Urbino, and Raphael’s self portrait. The artwork in the museum highlighted the Renaissance and pre-modern art. My mom and I got a real lesson in artwork and loved every second of it. Again, we relied heavily on Rick Steves, who did not disappoint. I saw art students throughout the museum re-sketching the famous masterpieces, and thought of my art friends who had been here last semester, wishing they were still there for a visit.

Also while in Florence, my mom and I were able to meet up with Taylor and her mom, who were also traveling Italy for the week, and Lisa, my roommate from last semester and Taylor’s sorority sister. It was great to see Lisa and so nice for Taylor and I have our mom’s meet. We all grabbed a long, long dinner and five plates of pasta and more than that number of wine bottles later, we had an amazing time to recount when we all reunite again. It made me homesick to all be together again in Florence, but couldn’t believe our luck at being where we were!


Overall, I loved Florence, as I have loved every European city. However, I did feel as though I was in an American city plopped down in Italy. We heard more English than any other language, and I have to admit we did not hear a ton of Italian. There were American students swarming the square, restaurants, and even museums. I loved how beautiful the city was, but I just don’t think I got the real European experience there. Just means I’ll have to go back and see it again!