Two days into 2017 and I found myself on a long journey to the United Kingdom. After spending the holidays at home with my family in Mexico, I packed my suitcase and drove north for four hours, just me and my mom. We crossed the border and arrived in Tucson, Arizona – spending a brief night in a place that I had also once called home. Ever since my parents relocated to Mexico, I rarely have the opportunity to visit. Perhaps it was just the nostalgia, but it felt right to be in the place where it all started before flying to my college home again.
The next morning, I took in the lingering smell of the desert rain and kissed my anxious mother goodbye. Seven hours later, I found myself lugging my heavy suitcase up three flights of stairs to a mostly empty college apartment in Philadelphia. After two years studying at the University of Pennsylvania, it also felt like home to walk around my college campus and have late night conversations over noodles at the local Ramen Bar. Less than 24 hours later, I packed up my second suitcase and stumbled back down the stairs before heading back to the airport for another day of traveling.
By the time I arrived in London, I had passed through 3 different countries over 3 days of travel. Disoriented and exhausted, it was difficult to find the charm in London when I first arrived. My heater didn’t work, my phone service went out, and there was no logic in the placement of crosswalks. During orientation, I sat in the back with one of my best friends from Penn and we rolled our eyes at every cheesy presentation while introducing ourselves to an overwhelming group of new people.
What school do you go to? What are you studying? Where are you from?
Though the entire situation surrounding “Abroad Orientation” called for small talk and awkward introductions, my inconsistent response to every “Where are you from?” question made me uneasy. As I stumbled to simplify my complicated background and the different layers that compose my identity, I realized that home could take on different meanings. To other American students, I was mostly from Arizona, the place where I grew up. In awkward and somewhat incoherent sentences, I would also mention Philadelphia before quickly moving on. On the other hand, to my British classmates, I was clearly American. Yet, I would often find myself clarifying that I was Mexican too.
It has been a month since I first arrived in London and as the days pass, introductions and “where are you from?” questions have become less frequent. Still, these past few weeks have encouraged me to look back and pinpoint the places that I call home and people that have inadvertently impacted and influenced who I am. At a time when the value of diversity has been questioned and undermined, I find myself embracing my background and the framework that it has provided as I find my place in this expansive and multifaceted city. Sure there is no place like home and there is no place like London but I have a feeling that the two aren’t altogether mutually exclusive.
Hello! My name is Trevor. I am a Marine veteran and a third-year geology student at Pomona College. This semester I’m studying abroad in New Zealand. I’m halfway done with the first part of my program, which is a five-week field camp all over the North and South Islands.
I must admit, I’m a little surprised to be here. When I started at Pomona two years ago, I had no plans to study abroad. I was lucky to travel a lot growing up, and I’d recently returned from a seven-month deployment to Afghanistan. I thought I’d be content to hang around campus all four years, but my curiosity got the better of me. Some friendly encouragement from my girlfriend (who also studied abroad while at Pomona) was the final push I needed to take a step out of my comfort zone. Here I am.
I had three main concerns about leaving home, all of which still hold true to varying degrees. 1) After field camp finishes, I will have to do my own cooking for the rest of the semester. I hate cooking. 2) Cars are my greatest passion in life, but my program does not allow me to own a motor vehicle while in New Zealand. 3) I sunburn easier than anyone I know. New Zealand’s depleted ozone layer means I will have to be even more careful than usual.
I haven’t yet had to cook for myself, and I’ve only been away from my car for a few weeks, so the only concern I’ll address now is the sun. Yes, it’s bad, but it is manageable. As long as I reapply sunscreen every 90 minutes I know I won’t burn. I’ve only burned once so far, and that was on an overcast day in the field when I tried to make due with only three sunscreen applications instead of the usual five.
Otherwise, adjusting to field camp has been pretty easy. The Marines prepared me well for this physically demanding and highly structured environment.
I’m here with 22 geology students from American liberal arts colleges. We won’t mix with the local New Zealanders until classes begin at the University of Canterbury next month. For now, it’s just us and a rotating cast of professors and teaching assistants. I like that everyone has a friendly attitude.
Each day we spend six to eight hours outside in the field making observations and taking measurements. Sometimes this means miles of hiking over hills and across rivers. Each night we spend a couple more hours in the classroom combining and interpreting our data. It’s a lot of work, though we do occasionally get days off to relax indoors or go off exploring on our own.
The university’s field stations serve as our base of operations. They have everything we could want: bunkrooms, classrooms, kitchens, bathrooms with hot showers, and half-decent internet. So far, we’ve spent nine days at Cass Field Station in the Southern Alps and five days at Westport Field Station on the West Coast. In a couple days, we’ll fly to the North Island to study volcanoes. Below are some more photos of the sites we’ve visited so far.
“I am not the same, having seen the moon shine on the other side of the world.”
-Mary Anne Radmacher
It has been a week since I returned to the States and felt my feet settle on solid ground. It has been a week of me readjusting to America and my home university. During this week I’ve felt a flurry of emotions- sadness from missing the friends I made abroad, eagerness to see my old friends again, thankfulness for the experience I was able to have- which all mix together to a strange mix-mosh of feelings inside of me. I didn’t know how to react to being back in the States. After my semester in Belgium, I made a short trip to Vietnam to see family I haven’t seen in 12 years, and then flew back home where I had 4 days to adjust and move back to my college campus. When I returned home, it felt like everything stayed constant, but changed at the same time. I was struggling with how to adjust back to my old life in America and then I realized I’m not the same person I was when I left for Belgium. I’m coming back to the States more assured of who I am, more aware of the world, and eager to experience more of it. I’m eager to implement and utilize everything I’ve learned and move forward as a more aware citizen.
America is in a time of immense change and I’m at a place where I am trying to figure out what I can do to enact positive change in a country that desperately needs it. I felt so far removed from American politics when I was abroad, even if it was a hot topic of discussion. I guess this is a part of the culture shock of being back in America. While in Belgium, as political events unraveled I was able to keep a certain distance from it all. But here, I returned just as the inauguration was happening. I returned as America was on the precipice of making history and I’m trying to figure out how to help fight against repeating some not so nice parts of that American history.
As America is on the forefront of the fight for human rights, I’m also struggling on how to slide back into my old life. I feel myself missing and yearning for my life in Leuven. I miss the little quirks of Belgian life, and more than anything I miss the friends I made abroad. My hall-mates and I still talk on a daily basis, all of us finding it hard to get used to life without each other. But this leads to promises of future meet-ups, which I’m excited to see follow through! But this doesn’t mean I’m not excited to be back in America and on my home campus. It’s nice to be back and be surrounded by what I’m familiar with. It’s nice to go back to all my favorite coffee shops and go the library that was my dorm away from dorm.
The first thing I felt when I returned to America was a mix of familiarity and newness. Everything felt the same, the ground was still the same solid concrete I was used to, my small college felt comfortable, and I reunited with my friends in a seamless fashion which felt like I never left. But something was different. The concrete was different than the brick road I grew accustomed to, it feels weird to not walk 30 minutes to get to class, and I miss the mix of languages that occurred over dinner in Belgium. It was definitely reverse culture shock and after a week of being home, I feel myself getting over that shock. I’m enjoying being back home and also having the time to reflect on the amazing three months I had in Belgium.
Before studying abroad, I definitely was a lot more wary of traveling and going to new places. But now I can’t imagine being stagnant for too long. I’m now yearning to see more of the world, even if it is just going to a different state in the U.S. I’m determined to see and experience more, which means I’ll be able to visit some of my American hall-mates! I feel significantly more comfortable and confident being in unknown places and adjusting to the unfamiliar. Being in Leuven gave me the chance to fully embrace life and get everything I can out of it. I credit this to my hall-mates. Living with a hall of international students has taught me so much. I’ve been able to learn about different cultures, but more importantly I’ve been able to experience how each of them see the world. A friend wrote me a letter and a line of it said, “Nhi, the world is a beautiful place, take a chance to see it.” That’s something I will remember for the rest of my days and I really credit my hall-mates for my newly found desire to take the world on.
Studying abroad also made me become strong in my beliefs, while simultaneously making me more open to exchange and conversations between differing ideals. I’ve learned to learn from the differences between people and how engaging in thoughtful conversations can really make me develop and strengthen my own thoughts and ideas. I thought I had a strong handle on these types of conversations, but I definitely learned and grew so much as I was abroad.
The past three months were the most transformative of my life and are memories that will never fade from my memory. I’ve made unbreakable friendships, created unforgettable moments, and have grown tremendously as a person. I’ll always be thankful for the opportunity to study abroad, especially to Gilman for helping fund my experience. I will take what I experienced and learned, and use it as I continue with my educational pursuits and as I grow and live.
Leuven gave me a taste of the world and for that I will always be grateful and have a special place in my heart for the small Belgian town that welcomed me and gave me so much more than what I bargained for.
One of the best things about traveling and being in a foreign country is trying out new foods! Foods from around the world have become a big part of travel these days with unique cuisines or cultures around the world, and South Korea is quite unique itself. When one thinks of food from South Korea, the first thing that may come to mind is Korean barbecue or kimchi however there is so much more!
I’ve been studying abroad in South Korea for nearly 6 months now and have become accustomed to the cuisine here. Korean barbecue is perhaps the most common dish you’ll find served in Korea, among the popular dishes of samgyeopsal (pork) or bulgogi (marinated beef), and other types and cuts of meat available. Other very common meals are fried chicken which is often paired with beer, seafood of all sorts (which is very fresh because of location), and rice bowl type restaurants in which you get rice with a type of meat and some vegetables. While you are sure to run into these types of foods everywhere you turn, you can surely find just about any type of cuisine you are looking for especially if you visit Itaewon which is known for being the area with the most foreigners.
I enjoy seafood however, I usually stick to cooked dishes and a limited selection of common seafood such as crab, salmon, fish and shrimp. Since South Korea is right next to the ocean, the seafood is as fresh and diverse as you can get at the Noryangjin fish market. One thing I never thought I would try is live octopus. It is a very unusual and traditional dish in South Korea where tentacles are served still squirming on the plate. You dip it in a spicy type of oil and then eat it! The live octopus tasted pretty good actually, however the experience of having it squirming and stick to your mouth was really intense for me.
The food I will miss the most when I return to the U.S. is gimbap. Gimbap is a simple, quick food which looks similar to sushi. It is usually some type of meat, tuna, or vegetables stuffed in rice and then rolled in a seaweed wrap. This quick food is nothing extravagant however the reason I will miss it is because of how easily available it is and it is quite healthy! At home in the U.S., if I wanted a quick bite to eat I usually resorted to fast food or heating up leftovers. With gimbap, I can usually find it fresh at any convenience store or one of the many food stalls or restaurants. It is easy to grab and go, or even take home. The best part is a roll of about 8-10 pieces costs around $1.20 USD!
I grew up in the United States and with a diverse population, so I have become accustomed to having a great variety of food available. I’ve also noticed that so many people including myself live busy lives in which they don’t have time to really enjoy a meal. There are so many times where I found myself grabbing a quick bite to eat and taking it home, or eating fast food in the car while on my way somewhere. In South Korea this is quite different. Eating in Korea is more of a social event and I see a lot less people eating alone. Usually friends or co-workers set up meeting times for lunch or dinner. Another difference is sharing food at the table! In the U.S. when I go out to eat with friends, everyone usually orders their own meals and sometimes we share an appetizer. In Korea, everyone agrees on a type of meat or food and places a large order that everyone shares straight from the pan it was cooked in! For instance, a restaurant I often go to with friends is a kind of fried rice place. You sit at a table with a large grill and pan in the middle and then choose a type of meat and any vegetables you want. They bring a large bowl of rice, vegetables, and meat, then cook it in the pan in front of you. When it is cooked, everyone takes from the pan onto their small plate.
Food in South Korea is unique with all it has to offer, and quite inexpensive as well. I believe my meals average anywhere between $2-6 and they are always delicious and filling. When I return to the U.S., I will definitely try to incorporate some of the food cultures I’ve learned into my lifestyle at home.
I’m home and it honestly doesn’t feel real. And it’s not just me that feels this way. I remember last week my roommates and the other friends I had made in my study abroad program were agreeing with me when I said that it just doesn’t seem right that we are leaving Florence so soon. That’s one change from the beginning of when I got there; the friends that I made. When I first got to Italy, I didn’t know anybody. I had to try to make new friends with people from different schools and people from difficult backgrounds. And now, we have been talking everyday about how much we want to go back. When I look back on my past blog posts, I see how excited I was to venture out into this new world and find different challenges to take on. Now looking back on the past three months, I see that I really went through a lot. Like a whole lot more than I thought I would ever go through. I went into studying abroad looking forward to meeting new people, trying new food, visiting new countries, and of course getting better in Italian. But I didn’t expect to go to countries like Austria, or I didn’t expect getting stuck in the city of Frankfort in Germany. I didn’t expect to leave my passport in Florence and realize that’s probably not the best idea if I am trying to travel to other countries.
When I think of what skills and qualities I have developed over these past three months, the one thing I am thankful for is how much experience I gained in traveling. I truly feel confident in any surrounding I could put myself in. I am also thankful that I have grown a greater sense of responsibility. During the semester, I had a random allergic reaction to something, and I broke out in hives all over my body. It was a very difficult and very uncomfortable time for me, especially because I had a flight to Amsterdam coming up. But I had to find the right medicine and the right treatment to get me through that time and through that experience in Amsterdam.
I have also gained a better insight of the term “hidden racism” through people choosing not to sit next to me on a bus or always being asked to see my passport while I’m sitting down at an airport and being asked, “Why do you have so much luggage?” It was things like this that showed me that the worlds of Italy and the United States aren’t so different. I learned throughout my time in Florence that our people, our cultures, our worlds really aren’t that far apart. The main things that really separate the States from that part of the world is how well we speak our English, what/how we eat, and how interested and involved we are in sports. In my eyes, these are the things that really differ the United States from people and cultures in Europe. At the same time, here in America we try to copy the European lifestyle. We try European food, we try to dress like Europeans. But it also goes the other way around. In Italy, they try to mimic the American lifestyle with how they dress, how they talk, and how they express themselves. These are all things that I miss already.
Regarding reverse culture shock, I am in the stage when I am gradually starting to readjust, but things are still not exactly the same. Florence truly feels like a dream. That’s what I keep telling my friends here when they ask “How was abroad?” “How was it?” “What was the craziest thing you did?” It’s crazy because a majority of people will never really understand or know the answer to these questions, they won’t ever experience the things I saw and went through. It makes me truly grateful for the opportunity to study abroad.
These past few days, I have been a little sad because I don’t really know if I will ever be back in Florence. I don’t know if I will ever be able to discover new experiences there, and do things that I wasn’t able to do within the three months there. One thing that I have realized from the beginning of my journey was how foolish I was to think I would be able to experience a big part of Italy in the three months that I was there. I could honestly compare my time there to the journey I had at the Palace of Versailles in France. I was at the Palace for about 5-6 hours, and I don’t even think I saw 10% of it. That’s how this experience has been for me. I was there for 3 months, but I only scratched the surface. There were trips I didn’t take, people I didn’t talk to, food I didn’t try, and mistakes I didn’t make but probably could have. Three months is nowhere near enough time to really immerse yourself in a brand new culture like that. But one thing that makes me happy is that I will be able to take these experiences and incorporate them into my life here in the U.S., here at Fairfield University. I can show people that studying abroad is truly worth it and you’ll discover things about yourself that you would have never thought possible. The challenges ahead of me- such as trying to finish my last spring semester as an undergrad with a 4.0 GPA, graduating, getting a job, and preparing a path for my future career- don’t seem as difficult as they did before I went to Italy. I know that these things, as tough as they will be, are things that I can handle. These are challenges that I may (ok, definitely will) mess up along the way, but I will be able to bounce back and be alright. My experiences in Italy and the other countries I visited will never leave my mind. Florence was very good to me and I am truly thankful for everything that city gave to me. I will never take it for granted.
“The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one’s own country as a foreign land.” – G. K. Chesterton
It took about two days for my ears to finally adjust to the change in altitude and pressure after being home. For those two days, my entire body felt as if I was underwater, perhaps imaging floating around in the Pacific Ocean without a care in the world, enjoying the amazing beauty of Ecuador’s coast and the Galapagos Islands. Muffled inquiries accompanied by shouts for responses filled my days as I just seemed to take up space in my home, my mind lost in the middle of the world.
This past week, I have felt a whirlwind of emotions. As I enjoyed the last week or so of my study abroad in denial, I finally had to learn to say goodbye, a cruelly ironic term that seems to have a powerful spell over human beings, forever leaving us perplexed, angry, upset, hopeful, excited – too many contradicting emotions at once for one person to handle. Yet somehow we learn how to say goodbye, by either packing up those emotions, or learning to leave what we can behind as to not carry too much weight in the future. Although my family and friends here fill the void of the goodbyes and see you laters I handed out with trembling hands and watered down vision, there is a cultural void that exists after spending such a long period of time in another country.
The reverse culture shock is equally as cruel, eventually turning into something positive and life-altering (I am ready whenever you are), but right now it is just reminding me that I am a stranger in my own country, what was familiar is now strange and a foreign country still has my heart and understands me better than I seem to understand myself. I have been floating around a (my?) town that is too small and too big at the same time within a state in a similar situation, sitting on the coast of a country that could be the host of possibly 50 Ecuadors. The accessibility of taking a bus for a maximum of 10 hours to get somewhere you want to visit with a cost of at most $12 no longer as I sit in a town where a car is required if you want to get anywhere and where the cost of public transportation is equivalent to about 10 rides on the green bus in Quito or the Ecovia (the metro). One trip on the metro will get you to the Historic Center and satisfy your senses with an overwhelming quantity of churches built to show devotion and faith in a being that connects mainstream beliefs in the U.S. with those in Ecuador, disconnected primarily by a language barrier that seems to build walls between countries that are geographically connected to us. This language is one that now slips off of my tongue without thinking, hiding words and sayings in between my teeth so that even when I am speaking English, they can insert themselves in my sentences and remind me of the beautiful language that filled my eardrums for four months, my brain now bitter that after finally adjusting I now expect it to switch to English without a fight.
The experience is hard to put into words, putting into consideration my language conflict or not, and it seems to make people think I did not enjoy myself. When someone asks me a question about my study abroad experience, my mind is forced to flip through what seems to be hundreds of different experiences and memories, all unique and important in their own way, a film reel of colors and locations and people and sounds and smells and feelings that each have their own significance. As I attempt to explain what it feels like to stand at the peak of a mountain or the bottom of a waterfall, my senses overload and my throat blocks words, building an awkward silence that cannot be fixed as I lose my train of thought and my mind wanders to some part of Ecuador that I did not spend enough time with.
However, as always, time continues to move forward and thus so do I, frequently finding myself missing the smells and sounds of the marketplaces in Quito or the morning serenades on the bus rides to campus. However, these smells have been filled with the smells of winter in Massachusetts accompanied by the holiday season. I quickly began to crave eggnog and all things festive and have luckily come back during a family oriented time of the year. Still, each aspect of what I miss from Ecuador finds something to cling onto here in the United States that either resembles it completely or somehow could possibly pass for it. Time progresses and I remind myself of the importance and relevance of progress right now.
As the United States finds itself on the brink of change, I know that I must stay motivated to be an active citizen and take part in the democracy that exists within my country. To be fair, the qualms and concerns of Ecuadorians are on a completely different level than ours here in the United States. We are not comparable, we have completely different histories and thus different perspectives on the world. Nevertheless, I will ensure that my voice is heard and I will work towards the future that I want for myself and my peers, always keeping in mind the beautiful country that opened my eyes to the importance and natural beauty of the world and living in harmony with nature and with people different from you.
As I move on in my life, I hope to keep Ecuador a part of my story, making my way back there one day, perhaps after graduating this May. I am not entirely sure what my plans are but I am sure that my experience in Ecuador will help me in my endeavors, whether it be by changing me into a more observant person, helping me with my Spanish, or offering me a place to live and spend some more time in after graduating. No matter what the case, my experience in Ecuador is one that I will never forget and one that can never be taken away from me. Thank you so much for reading my posts and for sharing this experience with me. I hope that you enjoyed reading and that one day, if you have not already, you are able to discover the beauty of Ecuador’s nature and culture firsthand, an experience that cannot be fully appreciated through the stories and words of others, no matter how intricately crafted they may seem.
You could tell I was the only one on my flight back to the United States who was not prepared for the winter chill. As we all boarded the airport shuttle, I saw people wearing winter parkas, boots, sweaters, and hats. I then proceeded to look at myself. I was wearing cropped leggings, a t-shirt, and flip-flops. Ha! Can you tell I had just returned from a semester abroad?
The change in climate was definitely my first experience of reverse culture shock. The voice of my host mother came to mind. “Indians would freeze in America; I know I would.” My inability to adjust to the cold climate made me feel more attached to India than I had in a long time. Without even realizing it, my body had adjusted to India’s climate, culture, and customs. For example, I hesitated handing the TSA officer my passport with my left hand because in India I would only use my right hand in social settings, for hygienic purposes.
The biggest reverse culture shock came during the holiday season. For the most part, people in Madurai were happy with what they had. The friends and host families I interacted with did not shop every weekend or buy an unnecessary amount of toys, food, etc. Indians are content. I returned to the United States and found the exact opposite. There were cars lined outside the mall’s parking lots. Cars had to park on the 5th and 6th floor of the parking garage because the lower levels were full. The traffic was insane; it was organized compared to the streets in India, but I could not believe the number of people out shopping. Suddenly I felt like America was materialistic. And we don’t have any shame in denying that we are! I simply wanted to crawl back to India where I was disconnected with certain parts of the world.
When I was India, I wanted to be back in the comfort of my home. Now that I am home, I miss the days when I could not do anything on the Internet because I would use up the monthly data; the days when I would take a 20-cent auto-rickshaw to Naina Sweet and order a plain dosa to eat by the street.
During my semester abroad, I wasn’t all too concerned about the “bigger picture.” I assumed that I would have an epiphany when I returned back to the United States. It may not have been an epiphany, but it did occur to me that living in India had a bigger impact than I thought it would. I felt a greater connection to India only after I returned home.
When I thought about studying abroad in Florence, I knew I wanted to do some form of community service. Something to help students, maybe help them learn English, or something that involved helping the homeless. I started e-mailing and looking for opportunities to help the community out.
I eventually signed myself up for a project that partnered with Oxfam International. Oxfam is an organization whose mission is to end the injustices of poverty. Their goal is to simply engage in the discussion of poverty and find different ways to fix it by bringing people together. And so I thought this was the perfect thing to be a part of and I felt that it would be a good way to leave Florence having an impact on people, even if it is just a little. I was looking forward to an interesting, fun, and unforgettable experience.
Those things were certainly true, but not ever in the way that I could have imagined. On the way to the meeting point, I thought that I was about to meet a lot of other volunteers, Italian and American, and I would make some new friends. When I got there, I was the only one volunteering. Also, the guide that I had only spoke Italian with a little bit of English. Luckily I have been taking an advanced Italian class so I was able to catch onto what she was trying to tell me. Instead of volunteering in the sense of serving food or distributing clothes, etc. to the homeless, my assignment ended up being a fundraiser. I had to try and get people to notice me, and then try to convince them to donate money so that Oxfam could send potable water to families in Sudan. Oh. And did I mention, I was only able to say this and convince people in Italian? Yes, very unexpected and not as easy as I thought it was going to be. I needed a catchphrase to get people to notice me, but then I also needed to be able to hold a conversation long enough to even convince them to donate money. I was pulling words from all over different parts of my brain.
At first this was very difficult because for one, I was really caught off guard with what I had to do and I couldn’t prepare for it beforehand. But also, I was nervous. I was nervous because I knew my Italian wasn’t the best that it could be, and I did not want to look stupid trying to convince people with broken Italian. I was nervous because I didn’t want to mess up the efforts of Oxfam with me not bringing in money because of my inability to convince people to donate. I was nervous because I did not want to get judged by people. As I tried to convince people to donate, some did and some didn’t. One person that did asked, in Italian, if I was from Sudan and if that’s the reason why I was trying to get people to donate. At first, I did not know how to answer. I didn’t know if the reason he donated was because he thought I really needed it for my family or something, or if he genuinely wanted to help Oxfam. This made me hesitant to try to convince people and I started to act quiet. But then after a while, I thought about it and decided that even if they thought it was for me, as long as it was helping somebody, it was okay. This gave me the confidence to keep trying and keep getting people to donate.
I ended up raising about 45 euros. I’m not really sure if that was a lot but I thought it was okay considering how I was thrown into the fire like that. On the bus home, I thought about my experience and I caught myself smiling. Smiling because I realized it was kind of fun doing that. Being by myself, and not doing the conventional community service that most people would probably do. This was something entirely different than what I expected and I took the challenge head on. What was also interesting about this project was that it was not directly involved with the poverty in Florence or the people of Florence at all. It was for a completely different country, a completely different culture. I was wondering why that was, considering the homeless people in Florence: Who is helping them and what foundation is working for them? But at the same time, it shows that Florence doesn’t just care for Florence. It cares for other people as well, people that they will probably never meet or see. I saw Italians in a new light through this experience. I felt happy to be a part of it. It made me feel that even when I leave in the next 2 weeks, Florence will always care about me.