Learning from Traveling

While on a train ride to Germany a miscommunication error while connecting two adjacent rooms led to screaming German stewards. Startled and terrified I tried my best to interpret her flailing hand signals and attempt to comply with her requests.

Frustrated and confused with the language barrier it seemed as if nothing would silence the steward. Time passes and violent and jagged words were streaming out of her mouth as she pointed at the door that connected the adjacent first-class cabins. Her discontentment fueled my anxiety and jolted me back to my seat in an attempt to satisfy her. I felt useless. As the steward fled the room throwing her arms in the air my annoyance began to cease. Several minutes pass without disruption until the steward returns—this time not alone. She traces her pointy fingertips around the table indicting her fury that it was misplaced.

Finally understanding her dissatisfaction I began to situate the table back into place. To an outsider one would have thought I had brought a forbidden item onto the train with all the commotion. My fantasy of being offered a snack, bottle of water, or extra pillow by the steward is only a dream on this train. In America, the courteous stewards attempt to suit your every essential need, despite the extent of your request.

Similar situations of cultural differences have occurred with my friends. While traveling back from Croatia some students were gathered in the hallways and making a lot of noise. The language barrier was difficult for them to interpret what the train stewards were saying and eventually turned the situation into turmoil with even more commotion.

The prevalence of cultural differences around the world has led me to embrace other cultures and learn from their lifestyles.

My upbringing taught me to be open to others and to learn from the way they interact. I would definitely recommend using hand motions to be able to understand someone when there is a language barrier and maybe the situation would be handled differently and with a lot less screaming.

Fascinated by Interlaken Fantasy

Fascinated by Interlaken Fantasy

The brisk air of Interlaken awoke us as we stepped out of the beautiful and historic-looking Spiez Train Station preparing us for our day of extreme sports and touring.

At dawn, the Spiez Train Station appears isolated from the extreme sports tourist town of Interlaken.

Tourist activities such as paragliding allow for you to see the beautiful landscape of Interlaken from a birds-eye view.

Tourism is at the heart of the Interlaken economy bringing in people from all over the world. Tour buses are unavoidable.

Balmer’s Herberge is one of the most famous hostels in the world bringing in tourists attracted to outdoor activities.

Walking through town I notice that patriotism is just as prevalent in Switzerland as the United States.

Hooters among other American-culture restaurants are inescapable in the town of Interlaken and boost your energy after a long day of activities. For a unique experience, a child-like train is a fun form of transportation and a way to see the town of Interlaken when your legs are tired.

Bells ring as cows are herded through town once a day.

Passing streets of cottage-like homes it is easy to imagine yourself curled up by a fire with a book after a long day of outdoor activities.

The breath-taking Swiss mountains await your return for another adventure in Interlaken.

Stefano Minoli

Stefano Minoli, age 21 has lived in Italy for the past four years. Born in New York, NY he moved to Rowayton Connecticut at the age of three and then proceeded to move back to New York to finish High School, which he visits almost 5 times per year. When he as free time away from his job as the Marketing director for Flying Dutchman Productions, he tends to enjoy boating, reading, going to restaurants, and playing soccer. Having experienced life in both the United States and in Europe he has had many different experiences and formed many opinions. When confronted with the question about the overall opinion of Americans that Italians tend to have Stefano sighed and claimed, “I don’t tend to generalize any particular group of people. If I had to, I supposed I would classify Americans as ignorant, war hungry, and obese.” But then he added that he believes that there are many exceptions to this rule. Walking through the streets of Italy, some students feel as though the locals dislike them. Stefano believes that it is a wonderful thing for Americans to study abroad because they are able to open their horizons. However, he does say “Italians generally have a poor opinion regarding American students because of the millionth drunken rage or rant in the middle of the street at 4am.” He thinks “drinking is something that a teenager should be taught to do with moderation at a young age (wine at the table for example) so they don’t feel the necessity to abuse it every time they come in contact with it.” Growing up with a father from Torino, Italy, Stefano was able to learn this life lesson and be able to appreciate wine for what it truly is.

Another Lesson Learned

Losing your passport—probably the last thing that you want to happen while in a foreign country. However, it happened to me. Once I entered the steel barred doors I felt as if I was back in America. CNN news was blaring in English from one corner as an air conditioner was breezing in another. The black tile floor, the glass in front of the help desk, and the abundance of cameras all reminded me of the seriousness of my situation. While sitting in the stiff plastic chairs that usually accompany any normal waiting room, I kept pondering to myself how I could lose my passport. I then overheard a blonde American girl who looked as if she had just returned from a hike talking to a couple. At one point she said, “I was sleeping at the train station and a man walked by. My backpack was lying next to me and the next thing I knew it was gone.” I thought to myself that my life could be worse and at least I learned another lesson.

Venice

“Ciao Bella, Ciao Bella” – is a common phrase my friends and I would hear while walking through the streets of Venice. Sweating from every part of our bodies we lugged our tired legs through the streets, up and down stairs, and across bridges anxiously listening to every word of our tour guide about this spectacular city. Visiting churches such as St. Mark’s Basilica located on the Piazza San Marco we were met with the religious respect of the Venetians, which required shoulders to be covered. Hundreds of people surrounded the area, most of which were similarly wearing “the whisper” listening to the words of a tour guide informing them of the amazing attributes of the church.

Although one would think that the colorful buildings and calm water would appear to most as a sense of tranquility, my friends and I had quite a different experience (although we did enjoy ourselves after all.) After a beautiful day on Lido beach adorned with topless women and men wearing Speedos, we decided to refresh ourselves with a nice meal at an Italian restaurant. We were soon to find out that the selfish American ways did not equally appear in the Italian culture.

Not only would we not be refreshed with a cold beverage and ice, we would also not be blessed with the presence of air conditioning. After a long meal full of conversation we decided to head back to our hotel. I do not enjoy boats, however a 15-30 minute ride was not going to bother me much. Unfortunately we did not recognize that we were headed in the wrong direction until we had exited the boat thinking that we were at the right spot. A few seconds of looking around we realize our mistake and stop to ask for directions.

Grace, being the one who speaks Italian and me being the extrovert of the group, we chose to work together in order to solve our silly mistake. I approached a man and asked, “Dov’è al Academica?” and he returned the question with some ‘jibberish’ that neither of us could comprehend. We decided to take a different approach and ask if they spoke English, which was unfortunately, “no.” An ambulance boat (quite interesting, yet extremely necessary in Venice) was spotted and we decided to ask them for directions. A response along the lines of “Prendere sulla barca numera 31 ed andare 5 fermate” was given and we decided to try it out. However, we saw them laughing and decided to ask a different gentleman who told us different directions. Three hours later, we finally made it back to our hotel and unfortunately, without air conditioning. Lesson learned: bring a map. Hopefully I will remember this on my trip this weekend to Munich.