APIstudyabroad

More relaxed…

In general, the people here in Andalucia are much more relaxed, and spending time with friends seems to be the highlight of most peoples’ day.  Sevilla contains thousands of little cafes and bars, and they constitute an integral part of life here, because they serve as gathering places for people to come and “tomar algo,” (drink something) and simply talk.  Of course, people in the States do this too, but on a much smaller scale….you don’t just see people relaxing outside in New York City!  In most Spanish bars, it is common to sit down and have your coffee or tea brought to you in real mugs or glasses.  Seeing people walking around with disposable cups is pretty unusual; they don’t order something unless they have time to sit down and talk for a time.  Also, people pay the bill when they are ready to leave, not right after they have just ordered.  This makes it easier for them to order more and allows them to sit and talk without feeling rushed. 

From 2-4 in the afternoon is “siesta.”  While most people do not actually sleep siestas, all the shops close and people go home for lunch or sit outside to eat, drink, and talk.  Once I got over the annoyance of not being able to run errands during this time, I came to love seeing all of the people come out from their work onto the streets (it can get really noisy!), walking home to spend time with their families, or relaxing outside at a café or bar.  At around 5:00 in the afternoon, “siesta” ends and people return to live as usual, but throughout the evening the bars and cafes remain full of people.  Seeing people walking around with disposable cups is pretty unusual; they don’t order something unless they have time to sit down and talk for a time.  Overall, the Andalucian culture seems much more people-oriented and it seems less preoccupied about doing things than simply just enjoying people.

Kristie Eshelman is from Grove City College, and is currently studying abroad with API in Seville, Spain where she is also serving as an API Cultural Liaison.

Encounters

For the most part, I have felt pretty prepared to be here and have not experienced any huge culture shock.  Still, it is different from the States, and the longer I am here, the more differences I notice.  The general cultural differences can lead to particular instances where I (or my friends) certainly feel out of place and uncomfortable.

Mostly, the biggest thing is just feeling lonely because of the language barrier, knowing that I am outside of something that everyone else is a part of.  When you are somewhat handicapped in expressing your personality (your humor, your intelligence, your views, etc.) it really forces you to think about the numerous people in the States who are not fluent in English.  I am sure that many of them feel the same way that I feel now, and it makes me want to make more of an effort to reach out to them when I am home.

Sometimes, the closeness and lack of personal space bothers me. I have made friends with an older woman and she feels free to grab me by the arm when we are walking, which can be difficult when I don’t know exactly where she is going.  Once, when my skin was not at its best, she asked me why it looked so bad!  Explaining that sure stretched my Spanish skills.

I have noticed that Spanish people in my age range are very similar to me, but older people (above 40 years of age) generally act very differently that people in the States. One thing that I have noticed is that older people here are very insistent that the students in their care do things a certain way. They are really just trying to make sure that we do what is best for us and make sure that we are happy, but sometimes, it can get a bit uncomfortable because it feels like our host-parents, for example, are trying to micromanage us.  For instance, one of my friends always has to dry her hair immediately after her shower, because her host parents are afraid that she will catch cold.  Some of my friends always insist that I drink soda and wine with every meal that I have with them, even though I have tried explaining that I really prefer water.  I know a lot of students feel resentful about this, but it is so important to remember that this insistence is just our friends or host-parents’ way of making sure that we are getting what we need.

Kristie Eshelman is from Grove City College, and is currently studying abroad with API in Seville, Spain where she is also serving as an API Cultural Liaison.

After struggling to make coffee with my roommate and figuring out how to pour the unrefrigerated box of cream without a pouring spout into my coffee….I’m sitting at my dining room table looking out our balcony at our gorgeous view of central Florence…take a look…. :)

Sleep deprivation, sore legs, a full stomach, and overwhelming beauty. Just a few of the adjectives that describe my first week here in Italy. I can’t believe a week is over and already I have experienced so much, and already feel like I fit in here in Firenze….well, not quite, but I’m getting there.

My adventure began at the airport where my flight was delayed to Rome because the plane needed “maintenance,” AKA it was broken. Luckily, I met a group of awesome API girls and we had fun chatting while waiting for our second plane. I met 2 funny Italian men who were on our flight too, and I passed the time exchanging a few words of Italian that I knew with them and playing with one of those metal brain teaser puzzle things one of the Italians bought from the airport giftshop. When I told one of the Italians waiting with us that I would be studying in Florence, he smiled at me and said, “That is my town. I have loved it forever, and you will too.” I hadn’t even made it to Italy yet, but I knew he was right.

We found out our plane wasn’t going to take off that night, but luckily for us, my roommate’s mom was there and she was able to get us a flight to London that would connect to Rome. First adventure of the trip, and we weren’t even to Italy yet! Although we didn’t have time to leave the airport, I never planned on seeing London so it was still cool enough to listen to their amazing British accents!

Finally, we made it to Rome, 12 hours later than we planned. We had already missed our first orientation, and everyone else was at the restaurant waiting for us. My first taste of Italian  driving——-SCARY!!!! Our cab driver was driving so incredibly fast and was pretty much bumper to bumper with the car in front of him on the highway that all I could do was pray that my seatbelt would do me good when we inevitably crashed. 40 euros poorer and and with a elevated blood pressure we made it to our beautiful hotel in the historic district of Rome! We had dinner with the other API students and had a fantastic 3 course meal complete with Antipasto, Primi Patti, and Secondi. So. much. food. I barely ate any of it because I was still so overwhelmed from our whole travel ordeal but the bites I did take were amazing. At that moment I knew I was going to gain a few pounds here, but they will definitely be worth it.

Rome was amazing. I am mildly obsessed with the abundance of ancient history in every aspect of the city—from the architecture, traditions and passion the Italians have for their culture from their ancestors. The next day we traveled to the historic district of Rome where we saw the Piazza Novana, the old Foro Romano, the Piazza di Spagna, the Trevvi Fountain, and of course, the Colloseum. I was so beyond excited to see everything.. it was crazy that all of these places that I have seen in pictures and dreamed of seeing for what has seemed like forever finally materialized right in front of me.

Despite screaming TOURISTE with our headsets and lanyards listening to our tourguide Manuel (THE BEST TOURGUIDE EVER) narrate everything, I still managed to find a personal connection to the city. During most of the tour of the city I tried to absorb everything, and tried to not just see, but to observe, not just listen, but to understand this wonderful culture and its history. While I think America has a lot of great history, nothing comes close to the rich history of Italy. It can’t be topped. I saw how strong all of the buildings stood on their foundations, built thousands of years ago by the Romans. I have such a strong appreciation for the literal blood, sweat and tears the people of Rome poured into creating their city, their empire, to last for centuries to come. Feeling the worn stone walls of the buildings, I could feel the passion in each stone stacked on top of each other, each perfect column, each perfectly formed human body and face in their sculptures, churches, and frescoes. I was in such awe of the dedication and purposefulness that was so obvious in everything the Romans did. I can’t describe with words or pictures the feeling I felt with my hand on the walls of the Colloseum, imagining how life might have been like if I was a Roman.

After seeing the city, a bunch of us walked around on our own and got lost in the city…walking around the beautiful Piazza’s, shops, and restaurants. Using my limited vocab of Italian, I managed to make a few friends in Rome, using many gestures and charades to find out what each other meant. While there were a few creepers, the majority of Romans we met were funny and so interesting to talk to! A lot of them attended the university there and were typical college students like ourselves. It was nice to finally interact with some Italians our age and try to understand their culture more.

The next day we saw the Vatican… which was also breathtaking. I didn’t see the Pope, but couldn’t help but think he was looking at us below the Vatican out of his little window in his room! It was great to finally say that I’ve been to the Vatican and can say that I definitely feel a little bit holier now. :)

The next day, it was Arrivederci Roma. Time to gather our belongings, leave our beautiful hotel that smelled of fresh pizza from our Italian neighbors next door, and get on the bus to our real destination, Florence, or Firenze as the Italians call it. I was so caught up in discovering Rome that I almost forgot that I wasn’t even in the city I chose yet. While I napped off and on during the bus ride, the glimpses of countryside I saw on our trip to Firenze gave me an immediate sense of peace and comfort.

I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Alycia Parish is an API student blogger and will be sharing her experiences in Florence, Italy this summer on our Tumblr blog.

Students live with their parents and seem to have a closer relationship with them than we do.  There is less of a “campus feel” at Spanish Universities than there is at universities in the states because people go there to take classes and then they leave right away.  My intercambio and I had a very long discussion about this, which was really cool, because she lived in the States for a semester and understands residential universities.  I told her that I liked the Spanish way of commuting to school because I believe that living on a campus with hundreds of peers is not real life and it often keeps college students from developing the rich and necessary relationships with people in other stages of life.

She countered me by saying that she really missed that feeling of camaraderie that she found at American universities, noting that many students within the same major did not even know each other.  In addition, believed that American students—in general—were much more independent (not necessarily more mature!) than Spanish students.  By remaining with their families, many Spanish students still rely on their parents to do things like cooking, laundry, banking, etc. and are not prepared to move out on their own when they finish their studies.  It certainly am often surprised at the things for which my Spanish friends ask permission, things which I never even think to tell my parents about, such as hanging out with friends.  My intercambio’s perspective really made me think and made me grateful for university residence life in the States.

Kristie Eshelman is from Grove City College, and is currently studying abroad with API in Seville, Spain where she is also serving as an API Cultural Liaison.

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name is Scott. I’m a rising senior at The University of Georgia. I was born and raised in Washington DC. I’m a family-man, an uncle of three awesome toddlers. And most importantly, I’m here to tell you what’s good.

What’s good, you ask? The answer: everything I have to say. So listen up, readers. I’m about to brief you on some legit information.

Some say I’ve got a wit about me that personifies my character as humorous. You may agree, you may not. Thing is, I’m still trying to figure it out too. Am I comical or am I serious? I look at myself from the outside in and see, what I’ve titled, a pragmatic jester. This, because while I tend to spit a few comical lines every so often, I always mean business.

Business, that’s my focus at UGA. Marketing is my major and creativity is my passion. I habitually look for canvases to express myself upon. Be it a desk, a basketball court, a tweet, or even a blog post (like this one), I’m gonna leave my mark. It’s true, I’m no da Vinci, but I don’t let that stop me. So readers, prepare yourselves, because the text that follows is my latest attempt at painting a masterpiece.

I’ll begin my sketch by saying this: I’ve never been one to let a regret take hold of me. While this is true for most everything, I’ve coped with one for quite a while now. And that is: I’m not a traveler. I’ve only gone beyond US borders once in my 21 years of existence: a “life changing” voyage to the Bahamas for my senior year spring break. SB ‘09, so cray.

This remorse has taken its toll. I’ve been contemplating on it for too long. It appears that somewhere along my life, I slammed a door and locked it shut. Behind that door: the rest of the world. Well readers, now is the time to pry that door open. Let me make you the first to know: I’m breaking barriers this summer. Bongiorno, Florence. Anyone got a crowbar?

So why Florence, you ask? It’s a valid question. What we have here is something that Facebook Timeline would define as a Life Event. I can already imagine my post— May 20: “crowbar worked, door opened, #helloworld”. That should get a lot of Likes, no doubt.

Like it or not though, this Life Event must have motives behind it. If you’re still reading I’ve obviously captivated you at this point. You are undoubtedly dying to know why Italy is my foreign land of choice. To reward you for your attention, I will elaborate. Lucky you, reader, lucky you.

I’ll preface with this fun fact: I don’t speak Italian… at all. Literally not one bit whatsoever. So with that, it really is a mystery. Seriously, what am I thinking?

Like I said earlier, I study business. And as I mentioned, I mean business too. I’ve calculated my to-be abroad experience (with the help of the wonderful API staff) and know exactly what I want to accomplish in the amazing city of Florence:

* From an academic standpoint: 9 weeks; 4 classes; 12 credits; 4.0.

* From an artistic standpoint: 9 weeks; 40+ museums; 1 digital camera; ∞ canvases.

* From an awesome standpoint: 9 weeks; 1 continent; 1 student; 1 mission.

My mission: make the uncomfortable, comfortable; take my mind off the typical collegiate grind; learn and gain experience from the opportunities presented to me; and lastly, just saddle up and travel. This summer, I don’t plan to just reach for the stars, I’m gonna grab them too.

As I make this leap, this determined bound to grasp every single experience worth experiencing, I’ll make sure to describe it all. I enter Florence blindly. No expectations, just goals. How I meet these standards, I do not yet know. What I do know is this: this won’t be your travel blog norm. This is Europe the way I see it. Through my eyes. My way.

Culture? Food? Religion? Don’t know much yet, but I welcome it all with open arms. I intentionally haven’t done my research. I’m not ready for what’s to come but I’ll take it head on. Come on, Florence, bring it.

Italy, here I come. Get ready for me. Please readers, tag along. I may not speak Italian, but I’m definitely a quality tour guide.

First stop: Rome. See y’all there.

Scott Manela is an API student blogger and will be sharing his experiences in Florence, Italy this summer on our Tumblr blog.

Late last spring, a few of my housemates bought a toaster. And there’s no other way to say it: that simple purchase changed my life. I had no idea how much I’d missed the simplicity of toasted bread, and not just at breakfast. It wasn’t long before I found myself sneaking downstairs for a midnight study break, and preparing the butter and jam before the bread even popped out.

Now, maybe I’m just an overly excitable person, or easily amused. It’s not like I’m spoiled and can’t go without the amenities of daily American living; I was out of the country a total of nine months of the year, and now experience occasional homesickness for Rome. But having toast after so many months of learning to embrace foreign vegetables was more than a slice of something familiar: it was comforting, enjoyable, and delicious.

It was something we could all agree on, because it wasn’t spicy, and didn’t smell like fish. It was something we all ate in different ways, some of us with butter and jam, some of us with sauce, and others simply with complete abandon – ok, maybe that last one was just me. And it added something to my life which I hadn’t been aware was missing.

In Europe, April is the middle of the semester – finals don’t start until June, and I didn’t get home last year until July. That midpoint is about when things started to get a little rough. My classes had stopped being new and exciting, but it hadn’t yet started to really settle in my brain yet. My teachers were no longer intriguing in their accents and unique pedagogies, but only mundane and occasionally frustrating. It was about that time when the work started to pick up, and studying abroad was beginning to feel suspiciously like taking the same tough classes with a different backdrop, nothing more. Homework, papers, long hours spent studying in the library. Where was the adventure in all of this?

It’s a good thing that toaster came along when it did. Now my morning routine involved one element even more elusive than crunchy deliciousness: waiting. Just a few minutes between depressing the lever and receiving the toast, but it was enough time to sit at the kitchen window and watch the city come awake around me: to hear the morning bells, and to watch the early pedestrians arrive at the bus stop.

And along with that, came other little, hardly perceptible changes in my day. I had the chance to remember to grab my hat, because spring means rain in Europe. Often it meant I was up early enough to say good morning to my housemates before we all went our separate ways in the day. I had time to stand at the bus stop and take notice of the world around me, all the little things I was overlooking that still made this study-abroad experience so unique. How could I stress about classes when I was walking by the Tiber every day on my way to class? When I took a bus home past the Vatican every night?

Today, back at home now in the US, every time I bite into a piece of toast I’m reminded of the diverse and wonderful personalities in the different houses I’ve lived in abroad. I’m reminded of slower-paced mornings, casual afternoons, of deciding to take the coffee break no matter how much work I have to get done, of quiet evenings cooking in my apartment with its view of cobblestone streets. College doesn’t afford many opportunities to slow down and take stock of my surroundings, but every once in a while something completely mundane and American occurs, like a piece of toast, and it gives me the chance to realize how much I have going on all around me.

The semester gets hectic; the work piles up; it’s spring and it’s raining and half the time I forget my hat, and it’s the easiest thing in the world to get frustrated and annoyed. But whenever I do, I try to remind myself: slow down. Focus on the little things, either the memories from the year spent abroad, or all the good things happening every day. Focus on the pleasant things, see the bright among the habitual and commonplace, and take the time to enjoy every moment. Because who knows the next time I’ll be in a foreign country and be so delighted over something as simple as toast?

Christine Hurst studied abroad with API in Rome, and served as an API Peer Mentor at Stonehill College

Maybe it’s where you grew up. Maybe it’s where you learned to ride a bike or where you learned to swim. Maybe it’s where you’ve celebrated your birthdays, in the same kitchen, opened Christmas presents or lit the Hanukkuah year after year.

The most common phrase I keep hearing, now that graduation is just around the corner, is: “I’m going home.” But the more I hear it – and the more I keep saying it myself – the stranger it is in my head. In the last two years I’ve had four addresses; and only two of them have been in this country. Only one of them has been with the people who raised me. So, yes, I’m returning to the place where I grew up, but does that really mean I’m going home?

To me, home is a concept, a construct, and it’s different for everyone. “Home” could be your porch, your garden, your car, your favorite summer ice cream stand. “Home” could be your suitcase, your passport, your pillow. “Home” could be that faraway look in your eyes when you talk about the foreign city that so intimidated you when you arrived, which you hated to leave and can’t wait to go back. Could be that group of people, perhaps only gathered in the same place in time for a single year or a single semester or even a single summer, and somehow creeping everyone’s Facebook and Twitter and Tumblr isn’t quite the same thing as actually being together again.

For me, “home” is all of these and none of these at the same time. For me, home is the streets and sidewalks I traverse every day, cobblestone or concrete; home is the shops and stores and restaurants which I visit or pass by on a regular basis; home is the familiar smile from the shopkeepers and crossing guards. Home is knowing how the sun hits the uppermost corners of the buildings first thing in the morning, and how sunset touches the rivers and windows late in the evening. Home is knowing bus numbers and routes and stops, and waiting casually at the street corner after school with the locals.

Home is knowing what day the fruit will be fresh at market, or remembering to duck my head when I pass through certain doorways. Home is chatting with the neighbors over hanging laundry to dry on sunny days, then laughing together when it suddenly starts to rain. Home is where I first learned that language barriers only make birthday parties more fun, where I first understood in a very experiential way that all people cry over the same things, laugh for the same reasons, and stop to watch the sunset.

Home is not about things staying the same but instead about growing accustomed to the differences, hearing the sound of Malayalam spoken throughout the house, or the smells of African cooking. Home is making dinner together, though none of us speak the same language. Home is about embracing the togetherness and comfort that we find in one another, which I found in my housemates both semesters I was abroad. Two very different countries, two very different experiences, two very different sets of people. And Skyping with them does not make me miss them less. Though it does serve to remind me how lucky I am to have met them at all. <

And I feel so fortunate in knowing that I’m never too far from a place I call home, because home is all of those things and more. I know that when I move away from the town in which I grew up, I’m not really leaving home but instead relocating to a different one. Making a new one. Nobody ever said I have to have just one. There is something very comforting in understanding that no matter where I go – to a foreign country, among non-English-speaking people, in a far-off land – I always know that I can find a way to feel at home.

Christine Hurst studied abroad with API in Rome, and served as an API Peer Mentor at Stonehill College

It all seems so possible. If we set goals, if we make plans, if we stick to our ideas and know how to follow through. If we memorize the timetables and arrivals and departures, buy our tickets ahead of time, online, and print them beforehand. It all seems as though we can really structure it and plan it all out and control it ourselves. If we pack maps and guides and learn even a few catchphrases, then travel should be a cinch.

But travel, especially the wanderlust kind, never works out that way, and somehow it’s really not supposed to. So much of travel – and indeed, so much of life – really depends upon luck. Certainly it’s wise to plan ahead and book in advance. But how was I to know that, while snowed into the Italian airport for two nights, that I would meet the niece of a professor at my school, whose class I would take the following semester? Many of the API university sites host many single-semester study-abroad students. Had I altered my plans just a little, I would have met and befriended an entirely different set of people. The geography of my friendships would be so different. The entire experience would have been so different. And I consider myself lucky that, in the end, things worked out the way they did.

Because when it comes down to traveling, there’s really only so much of it that we can control, and the rest is out of our hands. These are the years of movement, in which only change is constant – everything from field of study to sense of fashion; most college experiences are also marked by significant change of address a well: a different town, a different state, occasionally a different country. We never know what we’re going to experience next.

And that’s a part of the appeal as well. To discover not only new settings, new languages, a new backdrop, but also to put ourselves out there, to be open to the possibility of discovering new friends, new “family”, and maybe, in the end, something new about ourselves. To take up the risk of buying the plane ticket and getting the visa, but also of recognizing and leaving oneself open to the experiences of the unknown. Yes, it’s dangerous – you may get lost, confused, scared, homesick. But in the end what you discover will be worth all that you think was too difficult to overcome. The unexpected. An unplanned detour, a missed departure, an unintentional turn of events beyond our control might just be an opportunity to seize the moment, be in the present, and let go of the stress and the pressure of being in control; it may be just the right time to enjoy the ride and leave the rest up to luck. 

Christine Hurst studied abroad with API in Rome, and served as an API Peer Mentor at Stonehill College.

Misinformation and Helpfulness 

The biggest cultural difference that I have noticed here in Seville is that people are more assertive and are more likely to express what they want.  They also seem very sure of themselves.  Even when something is personal opinion or something that is open to debate, they express it like it is fact.  Of course, this happens in any country or culture, but it seems to happen a bit more Spain than in the United States.  In addition, I find that I usually do have to rely more on word-of-mouth information, as it is a bit difficult to find everything online easily, as I am used to doing.  Of course, I must consider the fact that I am communicating in a different language; some of the difficulty arises from hearing people wrong or from others misunderstanding what I am trying to ask.  All of these factors combined have lead to some really frustrating moments!  Thus, I have found that it helps to ask multiple people the same question, in order to ensure that I do not misunderstand or get misinformed.  

Fortunately, people are exceptionally kind and will go out of their way to help—especially here in Andalucia.  I have found that when I ask someone a question, they sincerely have a desire to help people, unlike in the States where they often just give an answer without really caring about the person.  Once when I got lost, I went into a pharmacy to ask for directions.  The woman seemed very helpful, but I could not understand her under her heavy accent.  I was too embarrassed to admit this, so I thanked her….and proceeded to continue in the EXACT opposite direction in which she had told me to go.  Fortunately, she came running out of her pharmacy, took me by the arm, and physically pointed me toward the direction in which I needed to go.  This sort of thing happened a lot during my first few weeks here, and I have become accustomed to being told, “vente,” (come here), taken by the arm, and led to where I need to go.  That usually just doesn’t happen in the States! 

My trip to the Canary Islands really highlighted this difference.  I got so confused and frustrated over the bus system in Tenerife, as did other non-islanders.  At the same time, I can’t even express the kindness shown to me.  For instance, I went up to one girl to ask directions to the nearest bus stop.  She explained that it was not marked and that only the locals knew where it was.  Since it was far and was getting dark, she actually drove me there, something I never would have thought of doing in her situation before that trip.  The immense helpfulness here has really made me rethink about the cold, closed way in which I have treated strangers in the past, prompting me to go out of my way to help people in the future.  

Kristie Eshelman is from Grove City College, and is currently studying abroad with API in Seville, Spain where she is also serving as an API Cultural Liaison.

Me with the API Florence staff

One of the key features that separates API from all other study abroad programs is the dedicated support staff that is on-site in all the countries that they send their students to. Speaking from my personal experience, I can say that they are some of the most helpful individuals I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. Not only were they there to help with all of the logistical concerns we had, but also for the cultural, social, and even linguistic technicalities. I was in the API office at Via Cavour 34, several times a week sometimes for hours on end. The five women who staffed this office (Federica, Ellen, Monica, Irene, and Cathy) would become my unofficial guides to anything and everything Florentine. What saddens me is when I realize that there were so many other students who did not avail themselves of the opportunity to learn about Italy through the eyes of people who knew this country intimately.

My first experience with the API support staff occurred immediately upon my passing through customs in Florence. The first person I saw was a smiling woman with a big sign with the API logo on it. It was like finally reaching an oasis after stumbling through the desert for what felt like an eternity. I was annoyed with Alitalia airlines, I was overwhelmed by being in a totally new country, and I was frustrated that I was having so much trouble recalling my Italian language skills; but seeing an API rep waiting for me was a turning point where I finally felt that things were going according to plan. This feeling of settling in would only grow stronger as time went on, as API was there throughout my weeks of orientation and always ready to answer my (often numerous) questions.

Even though I am an Italian-American, I had no idea what it meant to be a local in an Italian city. There were times when I found myself a little confused about some local custom or just wanted a suggestion on where to have lunch and I would always walk over to the office to see who was available. My persistent curiosity eventually led me to having very meaningful discussions with everyone in the office. I learned so much about Italy and what it meant to actually live there. This knowledge was not confined to Florence, as I would often seek them out while we were on our excursions to other cities. From discovering details about Venetian cuisine to learning odd facts about Roman history, I could always rely on valuable information from the API staff regardless of where we happened to be.

The ladies of API were so helpful on so many levels. Two examples immediately come to mind, as they are some of my most vivid memories of my Study Abroad experience. The first was when three friends and I decided to plan a road trip to the South of Italy. We were interested in getting a “professional” opinion on our plans to rent a car so we all went down to the office to discuss it. We went on a Friday afternoon and hammered out our plans in the student lounge while Cathy, Monica, and Irene all told us that it sounded like a fantastic idea and strongly encouraged us to pursue it. We had specific concerns about driving in Italy. Cathy gave us advice on road etiquette (the left lane is only for passing, don’t linger!), while Monica loaned us a giant book of Italian maps and even called the rental car agency and spoke to them in Italian for us so that we could get accurate answers to some of our questions. This road trip was a resounding success as all four of us had an incredible weekend in the Italian countryside, one that continues to define my experience in Italy.

My second memorable experience with the API staff was at the very end of my trip. They had always told us that they offered free Italian language assistance to any student who needed it. Again, very few people actually took them up on this offer and I didn’t either up until the end of the semester. I was sitting in the student lounge of the office studying very hard for my Italian Final. I was in the Intermediate 6-credit language class and they were cramming a lot of material into the last few weeks. Irene was around and asked me if I had any particular questions that she could help me with. There were a few concepts that I wanted to clarify so I just asked a few basic questions; this turned into a study session of about an hour-and-a-half. I could not have been more grateful for her help and I give her a lot of credit for helping me get through my final (relatively) unscathed.

I can’t overstate just how much of an impact these five very special women had upon my experience in Italy. They were my surrogate family who were there to make sure that everything went according to plan. The key to their success was that they were not overbearing in the slightest but were always available to help with anything we might need. In my opinion, this is the hallmark of API’s outstanding level commitment to their students. I would strongly encourage any prospective API student to endeavor to get to know the on-site staff because their assistance can prove invaluable and if you make the effort these relationships can turn into very meaningful ones. I was fortunate enough to meet five women all of whom I am honored to call my friends.

Christian Iezzi studied abroad with API in Florence, Italy, and serves as the API Peer Mentor at Baruch College, where he is soon to graduate.

As my graduation date looms, I can’t help but think of where I was this time last year. I had similar feelings of despair as I was contemplating saying goodbye to my host city of Grenoble. The quaint French city had become home and I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving. When would I be able to return? Would it hold the same charm? I’m plagued by similar thoughts now of leaving Stonehill. What’s in store for me post grad? How will I feel returning here as an alum?

In the past year, my study abroad experience has had a profound impact that I never expected. The most obvious way this occurred was having the pleasure serving as an API Peer Mentor. I received the opportunity of being able to chat with prospective students from all over the country about my abroad experience and help answer their questions. I then got to interact with my Stonehill community in a way I never have before. I planned on campus events for prospective study abroad students and got to participate in the excitement of planning a semester abroad. However, my favorite event was my Study Abroad Social in which I had study abroad alums share their experience not only with prospective students, but with each other. I also finally had the chance to see what my fellow seniors experienced during their own semesters abroad.

But my semester abroad impacted me in not-so-obvious ways as well. It taught me that life changes require some time to transition and that I must have the patience and flexibility to deal with them. This occurred when I returned home after my semester, but also when I returned to school in the fall. The semester also taught me that I can take on terrifying challenges and come out on the other side a stronger person. When I left school at the end of fall semester junior year, I panicked. What was I doing leaving my comfort zone? Who did I think I was going off to France for a semester? As a monumental change as this was, I learned how quickly I could adapt to new surroundings. I discovered the ability to make a new place home and find a support system made up of invaluable friendships.

Speaking of those friendships, my semester also taught me an important lesson about relationships. I went off to a foreign country and didn’t keep in touch with home as often as I would have liked. But those most important of me were still here when I returned. I found this worked in the opposite way as well. While I haven’t been able to see or speak to my abroad friends as often as I want, I know they’re still there for me when I need them. I also learned that when I couldn’t rely on other people, I could always rely on myself. I learned how to take care of myself in new ways, but I also learned that there are times that I just need to let others take care of me.

The thought of graduating instills a feeling of panic in me and a sense of dread. I don’t want to permanently leave a place I’ve called home for the last four years. Truthfully, I don’t have a concrete plan yet and have no idea where I’ll end up. But I do know I’ll be okay and I have my semester in France to thank for that. As heart-breaking as it was to leave France, I did it and survived. I know the same will be for saying goodbye to Stonehill. I also know the transition will be difficult to post grad life, but I also know how difficult it is to move to a foreign country and back again. I may hate leaving my comfort zone, but I know how to do it. And even if my friends scatter all over the country and the world, I know that they will always be there for me and that Skype is the greatest invention ever.

I hate to admit it, but I know it’s time to leave this phase of my life. But I’m more than prepared and I have my semester abroad to thank for that.

Kaitlyn Nolan studied abroad with API in Grenoble, France and serves as an API Peer Mentor at Stonehill College, where she’ll be graduating soon.