Tamar Freeland (Spain, 2010-11)

Studying abroad in Barcelona was the experience of a lifetime!  As I hoped, it pushed me to become a more independent, aware, and open minded person.  Also, I am proud to have met my goal of Spanish fluency, which has opened up the door to a whole new range of relationships, understandings, and opportunities.  Living outside of my comfort zone and home culture made me more adaptive and confident in my ability to meet and overcome new challenges.  It would be lying to say that I didn’t struggle: I was often frustrated by misunderstandings, I occasionally longed for familiarity and my friends and family at home, and I found it difficult to be and express myself in a foreign language, culture, and context.  Yet reflecting on these difficulties helped me discover my own personal strengths and weaknesses as well as interests and disinterests.  My experiences clarified my values and forced me to think about what I want out of my education, out of a career, out of myself, out of others, and out of life.  Only through an external perspective did I come to see how many things I take for granted.  I feel so fortunate to have had this enriching opportunity, and I highly encourage anyone who is thinking about studying, working, or living abroad to do so.  I was in Europe for 361 days, and I am so happy that I didn’t choose a shorter program.  In retrospect, I definitely needed a year to settle in, get to know the city well, establish a residential routine, feel like a local, and undergo the mental progression that comes with living abroad rather than just touristing around.  Because my experiences studying in Barcelona and traveling through Europe were so positive, I am now looking for a job or internship internationally, (possibly in South America).       

I am very grateful to all of the members of the Chris Borton Memorial Scholarship board for their support and generosity.  Receiving the scholarship really was a crucial part of making a lifelong dream come true, and studying in Barcelona was an experience that I will cherish forever.

Hannah Rahimi (Spain 2009-10)

Upon returning from Spain I found myself apologizing to people who urged me to tell them how my year was and telling them that I really could not feasibly tell them how much the year meant to me, how much it changed me, how much I saw and did and learned, and if I tried it would no doubt be at the expense of any original sounding description. My constant thought was “Wow I sound like a hallmark card!” Everything that I thought to say to describe my year came out sounding remarkably trite. But what I have come to realize after a couple of months being back in California is that despite the hackneyed timbre of my statements about my study abroad experience what I am feeling is cliché for a reason: it is the tremendous growth of self that is achieved by many people before me who have stepped out of their comfortable cultures and lived in a foreign country for a substantial length of time. But what is even more important is that I have realized that though the words I use to describe these feelings can sound faded and over-used, the feelings themselves are indeed original and novel because they are mine alone, they are not transferable through speech, through reading, or even through pictures, but only can be gained through personal experience.

Due to this abundance of people before me saying how their lives changed from studying abroad I left the country with a myriad of expectations about how I would find the year. I thought it would change my perception of the world, of myself, and of life itself. And it did. What I did not and could not expect, however, was the way in which these perceptions would change and the gravity of those changes that took place. I went to Spain to study literature and learn about the country in which the very authors I studied lived and wrote and while I did truly learn about the country in a depth which I never could have expected in the classroom I also learned how I can take that understanding and apply it to almost everything I learn. History is not just facts, it is the story of how we got where we are today and that story means everything to who we are and how we perceive the world and it is different for each person and each place. I left with the idea that despite cultural differences every person is more or less the same across the world. Instead I found that while we do all have many things in common there are fundamental differences between people such as values and lifestyles that change from place to place. From this I was able to see that it is really important to try to appreciate these differences and learn more about them rather than try to put everyone under a generalization. One of the most important things that happened was that I left with ten years of learning Spanish under my belt and I expected to be able to jump into fluency right away but instead found that the language I was able to read and write and use to converse in a scholastic situation was not anything close to the language I needed to interact on a day to day basis and I really did not feel fully comfortable with my Spanish until after having lived in Granada more than eight months. When before I would have to think through my words and stare intently in concentration to understand the Spanish around me now I open my mouth and without thinking can hold an easily flowing conversation without extra exertion.

After the first semester I felt as though I knew the city and I knew the culture and although I was looking forward to staying a semester longer I thought that it would not be all that bad to be going home then to return to my family and the comforts I had at home but what I did not realize was that although I had a comprehensive understanding of Granada from a traveler’s point of view I had no idea what it meant to truly live there. By the end of the year I did not just feel like I understood the culture and the city and the people there, I felt like I was a part of it. The cobbled stones that had charmed me at the beginning became the streets that I proudly walked with a sense of ownership and belonging, the once intriguing sights and smells of Granada were now signs of home and comfort.

When in Spain I found that the things I missed the most about America were the people and the food and the efficient lifestyle, now that I am back I find that I again miss the people and the food and this time the relaxed tranquil lifestyle. But now and forever I carry the possibility of both lifestyles with me and can choose how to live my own life somewhere in the middle of the two extremes, with frequent emails to the people I miss and attempts to cook the foods of both cultures in my own kitchen.

One of my favorite words in Spanish would have to be imprescindible, essential. That is how I feel about this year abroad. It has been imprescindible to who I am now and who I want to be. I would fully recommend studying abroad to anyone who has the chance and I would stress that in order to really take the experience to heart a full year abroad, also, is imprescindible.

Alexandra Delaney (Denmark, 2009-10)

Everyone reacts positively when I relay the fact that I spent a year abroad, even before I tell them what I did or how it changed me. It is generally assumed that a year away from home, in a place where you have a non-existent support system, is a productive experience for a person and a young person especially. After personal reflection and many conversations I am able to officially agree that I had an amazing time, or at least encountered people and places that I could have never imagined before I left La Jolla.

​Originally, I anticipated a notably challenging academic experience; after all, I am paying tuition to learn something. What surprised me, however, was how much I learned about and from people instead of from my syllabus. Not to say that I wandered around Europe and never attended classes. My goal was to integrate seamlessly, to dress like a Danish person, communicate with them, to be like them, and a successful student life was part of that. In fact I was so successful that by the time I left that the other exchange students even jokingly called me Danish because of my intense need to avoid being noticeably American.

Most of my learning happened while I lived with Danish people, attended classes with them, cooked with them, and traveled with them; even while I attended evening courses to be able to understand them. In fact I fell in love and out of love with a Danish student.

​After coming back I realized that obviously, I will always be American, or more specifically, Californian, and it was silly to think I could be anything else. However, my intense need to understand as an outsider provided me with a unique perspective on people that I had never had before.

​I studied evolutionary biology, anthropology, history, traveled to some of the most beautiful tourist destinations imaginable — if you ever get a chance to trek around Iceland then definitely take the opportunity and the time— but the most unique and special things I learned and witnessed were while real life was happening.

​When I was adjusting to a new city I saw how all of my floor-mates went out of their way to arrange transportation and explain their world to me. When my mother died I felt the support and kindness while I was trying to explain how my world had fallen apart. I met a new person and learned something new about life every day. I keep in contact with some directly, and the others still silently affect me below the surface, because they changed my attitudes and perspectives in an entirely surprising way.

​I will never forget the things I saw and did or stop being grateful for the opportunity to live for a year, to reinvent myself, and to come one step closer to being a better person.

Kipp Trieu (France, 2008-09)

I had to ask what ‘911’ was in France.  Not that I was in a burning building or anything, I was writing an emergency protocol for a Sciences Po summer program.

The French person who I asked knew immediately what 911 itself meant; I asked how.  “You see that in every American movie, of course.”  Bien sûr.

After spending time abroad I’ve come to the realization that immense as the United States might be (in political and cultural impact - my final exam prompt for “World Space” at Sciences Po was on American “soft power” in the public sphere… in other words from that class, ‘cultural imperialism’), we can’t afford to continually seek solace behind our Freedom Fries, especially in this age of internationalization.  We can’t afford to not know of and understand the world and peoples beyond our borders, for doing so gives us singular learning opportunities.  Having these experiences allows us to not only exposure to other peoples and their essences, their customs, culture, etc., but it also allows us to reflect upon ourselves and learn about our own mores and ways of “doing things.”  Indeed this pedagogy of “l’autrui” (a French word loosely translated to “those around us”) is valuable not only for people living and working internationally, but even more essential for primary and secondary education, I argue, and that “proper” education abroad experiences are particularly important for creating effective, aware world citizens.

During my studies and travels, I found that quite a few people speak English.  So why bother learning anything else?  This notion “translates” to lack of second language (and culture) education in primary schools, weak programs for languages & literatures other than English at university level.  UC San Diego’s French Literature department for example recently took a deep cut in funding, hence the department offers only a limited selection of courses.

But here enters a strange relationship between Guillaume le Conquérant and the GRE.  The former became the first Norman King of England in 1066, introducing French lexicon into the English language, the latter’s Verbal module tests on archaic English words, which often had French roots.  Indeed, learning French, a language of “l’autrui,” allowed me insights into my own language, and a (slight, but enough for grad school) boost on the GRE sans the use flash cards.  “Aggrandize?”  From the French “agrandir,” to make bigger.

More largely, learning about “l’autrui” can help us learn about ourselves.  The student abroad is engaged in a reflective process, forcing them to actively analyze home vs. host culture and to engage with host culture.  This process “makes sense” makes meaningful connections between one’s culture and the host culture, and gives the student a unique flexibility in understanding culture and the essence of people; this process is only available to students who study abroad.  Further, living with l’autrui can make one appreciate little things found at home like speedy lines at the post office or consolidated paperwork for going to the bathroom, while highlighting the nuances found in the host culture.  For example when one opens a bank account in France, a “conseiller,” the equivalent of a “personal banker” here, is assigned to your account, and this conseiller only will manage your account, whereas at banks here any personal banker will help with accounts.  This often causes time-consuming bureaucratic red tape (as I discovered) but it reveals the very human dimension of French culture, where a ‘no’ can in fact mean a ‘yes’ after a good amount of plying.

The lessons learned from the pedagogy of l’autrui, among them mutual respect and understanding, are important even for the primary school age, where social lessons heavily include respect for others and “getting along” and “sharing.”  As a soon-to-be teacher, I am fortunate to have had these experiences of learning to be a world citizen, and hope to pass on this wisdom to my students.

I applaud the CBMSF, which for me has embodied these world citizen principles with which we must move forward to be successful as a society, for continuing to target yearlong applicants to EAP.  Though this might make me a “study abroad snob,” I argue that to attain a degree of immersion that truly begins to offer unique understanding of the host culture and move from a temporary visitor status; this additional time is needed for the proper engagement of the student with the host environment and the pedagogy of l’autrui.

My experiences from the Education Abroad Program and from being a part of the Chris Borton Memorial Scholarship Fund have impacted my views on effective teaching, intercultural teaching and equity of education.  Further, spending time abroad has allowed me to learn and reflect upon myself as a person and as a productive member of the “global village.”  My hope is to impart to my students what I have learned of being a world citizen.

Joachim Lyon (China, 2004-05)

The scholarship I received while at UC San Diego had a resounding impact on me in both tangible and more psychological terms, and I’m happy to have a chance to share my reflections.

The scholarship I was awarded was the Borton scholarship for a year study abroad. Throughout my time at UCSD, I had to take loans and work (I used to work at the Mandveville Coffee Cart “Art of Espresso”) in order to stay afloat. This particular circumstance was the cause for a lot of anxiety and frustration each quarter because both my academic and extracurricular interests were very broad, and I did not want to give up any of them. On one hand, I wanted to study many things at once — even the demanding requirements of Revelle College were not enough for me: I wanted to major in cognitive science, take philosophy and political science courses, learn mandarin, study abroad for a full year, and even pack in some Chinese history. On the other hand, I also found myself in student government for two years, worked as a resident advisor, rowed crew, played basketball intramurals, and read and wrote items of my own personal choosing outside of class. And I wanted to do all these things without foregoing the possibility of affording graduate school, wherever that would be. Given these interests (as I look back), I was constantly forced to trade off academic pursuits, extra curricular pursuits, and the need to support myself in any way that could offset amassing loans. In some respects, my decision to take a fifth year by going abroad during my fourth year was a bit reckless — it essentially added on a year of loans to repay. But in doing so, not only did I take an important step in sticking to a no-holds-barred attitude towards self development, but I also found, for the first time, a tangible message that someone else respected and encouraged my goals and motives.

In my general application for an abroad scholarship, I wrote clearly and simply about some of these goals: I wanted to immerse myself in another culture; I wanted to return semi-fluent; I wanted to build bridges between my Jewish family and my new Chinese relatives by marriage (I was later to go visit them in Yunnan province). When I received the Borton scholarship of several thousand dollars, I simply remember feeling shocked that I had gotten the scholarship at all. Why had they picked me? What did they see in my application? I am a little embarrassed to say that, having amassed a solid debt in college so far, I almost didn’t notice or appreciate the amount of the scholarship. When it was credited to me, all I really noticed was a reduction on my university bill of the large amount that would have to be covered by loans. Yet the real effect that scholarship had on me — the first I had ever received — was the incredible feeling that someone had actually read my application, had seriously thought about what I had to say about my hopes and dreams and plans to achieve them, and had decided to invest in me. Later during my year abroad, the Borton’s only confirmed this deeper message, replying in length and quality to the stories and reflections I emailed to them. And when I found myself struggling as all serious abroad students do, I remembered that they knew I would do well, that I would learn something, that I would change deeply — they were prepared to be proud of my accomplishments.

I can’t impress upon you, or anyone else, how lasting was the emotional effect of that scholarship. Two years later, while applying to Edinburgh University’s master’s program in philosophy, I noticed that the university only offered two scholarships to American students. I thought of my relationship with the Borton family, and I applied for the Edinburgh scholarships anyhow, later receiving their International Masters scholarship of 12,000 dollars. But most of all, I also decided at this time to apply (recklessly, as usual) for the extremely competitive Jack Kent Cooke graduate scholarship — the largest and most flexible scholarship available to graduate students in the United States, awarding up to 300,000 dollars. The application took three months to complete. Each day I would ask myself, given the incredibly small percentage of applicants who get the award (I think it was 3.5% that year), why put in the immense effort? But I would also think, even if the award value is much larger than the Borton scholarship, why should they read my application with any less interest? And so I worked on it daily, receiving guidance and constructive criticism from Dr. Ross Frank and my research advisor Prof. David Kirsh — all the while trying to remind myself that I indeed had a chance. Against what felt like all odds, I became a JKC scholar during the summer before my year in Edinburgh: I knew then for the first time in my life that I would be able to afford both my Masters degree and a PhD program.

The day I became a JKC scholar, over three years after I received the Borton abroad scholarship, I wrote to the Borton family:

“…I want to thank you again for the Borton grant you gave me to study abroad. I’ve thanked you before, but now I want to give some context: the Borton grant is the first scholarship I ever succeeded in receiving. It made for me the possibility of such successes an actual reality — one which I ought not fear to strive for. I mentioned the Borton grant in my most difficult JKC [Jack Kent Cooke] essay response, where I commented on the dreams I had expressed in my small application to your foundation, and the ways in which I had realized those dreams during my study abroad. Had you not given me that first vote of confidence in what I intended to make of myself and my hopes and my ability to work hard, I would never have been able to muster the courage to go for the JKC scholarship, let alone write a compelling application.”

I recognize it must be terribly difficult to make scholarship decisions — there must be many more over-qualified applicants than the various funds, foundations, and generous individuals can possibly support. But I wanted the Bortons, and their board, to know that they had sent me a message which continues to reverberate in every step I take.

I recently graduated from the University of Edinburgh with a Masters in Philosophy, earning a distinction (honors) mark on my thesis. At present, I am a first year doctoral student at Stanford University, affiliated with the Centre for Work, Technology, & Organization. I hope one day to be a professor myself, not only teaching and conducting research, but also encouraging another young student to apply for the impossible, even if that impossible is only a modest scholarship to study abroad.

As you can see from my personal reflections, I feel it is important to encourage donors, even those with only “small” amounts to give, by reminding them that the psychological effect of being selected for an award likely does more good than even the increasingly important monetary benefits. Getting a scholarship, no matter how small, tangibly says: We think you are worthwhile; we think your efforts mean something; we take seriously what you are working on and we hope you too continue to take it seriously; we believe in you. In this way, scholarships not only open doors for those who already know they can succeed but just need the money — they also open doors for those who can reach and grasp so much more on the basis of just a little more reassurance regarding their value and potential. As it turned out, I was one of the latter.

Nicola Hil (France 2007-08)

Since my exams ended three weeks ago, June has technically been a month of vacation for me, meaning that I have spent a lot of time reflecting on my year abroad as I tie up loose ends and say goodbye to friends. Initially, I thought that writing up my reflections on my ten months in France would be relatively simple, because I already had so many thoughts in my head. However, now that I sit down, in one of my favorite cafés in the centre ville of Lyon, to write something concrete, I find that it is a much harder process than I thought. I was recently discussing studying abroad with my program director, Christine, and the fact that I don’t really feel like I am studying abroad anymore. Lyon has become much more than a destination to explore and a place to study. It is where I will look back when I consider the different places I have lived and called home. I am finding it difficult to write my reflections on my EAP experience because I have grown out of the EAP program and have touched on something much more complicated.

I can’t really speak for others, we all react uniquely to the situations we are placed in, but I will say that I now distinguish two kinds of study abroad students in my head. For some, France has remained a foreign country, a place to visit, and an opportunity to speak a different language from time to time. For others, France has become another home where the culture is now familiar, where the language is an ongoing communication with others, and where the complexities of the country have become apparent. It is perhaps easier for those in the first group to enjoy France and then to go back to California, which they never really left in the first place, and discuss their experience abroad. I count myself among the second group, which makes reflecting on my ten months in this country very difficult. It is as hard as when people ask me what my life was like in England or when non-Californians ask me to describe what California is like. How to describe something that is filled with a million experiences, where each town has a different feel and where living there is just what you do.

I feel very divided as I get ready to leave Lyon. On one hand, I feel connected to this place and my friends here, but on the other, I feel that I have only just scratched the surface. My level in French has improved and has surpassed my expectations, yet I know I am not fluent and could never be considered French. (After nine years in California, people still know from my voice and my mannerisms that I’m not Californian!) It would be nice to stay a second year; maybe then I would feel like I had learned enough! Studying abroad has given me a travel bug and a desire to learn more about subjects that interest me. There seems to be a never-ending list of things to discover and learn about! In that respect, I am not too sad to finish this EAP year abroad, because I know this will not be my last time in a different country or my last challenging, but rewarding experience.

Academically, this year has been extremely worthwhile, but not in terms of courses and grades. Since there is always the possibility that my courses won’t transfer (I won’t know until I get back and petition them), I quickly stopped feeling unnecessarily stressed about my degree in California. I took more units than was required, I made sure to take courses that reflected the requirements of the UCSD political science department, and I stayed in contact with my academic advisers. Otherwise, I just enjoyed learning about subjects that interested me and concentrated on improving my French. In terms of grades, the French system is very different from the American. All students are graded in relation to each other, meaning that usually getting the “moyen” or average is considered a good grade and anything higher is fantastic. Class grades in general are much more uncertain as they usually depend on one test graded directly by the professor. Usually I focus almost too much on achieving the best grade I can, but this year that mentality was just not possible. Instead, I concentrated on my own sense of progress and success. I tried to improve my writing and communication skills in French to minimize the difference between me and the French students. By the end of my courses I had no idea in terms of the grades I would receive, but I personally knew that I had done my best. During my last few exams of the year I forgot that I was an international student and just wrote as feverishly as the other students to get my ideas down in the allotted time. There is no doubt in my mind that I prefer the Californian system, but I know that I can hold my own in the French academic climate. I’m just a little worried now that my English has declined somewhat… So far writing this reflection has been a bit challenging, as I keep misspelling words according to the French spelling and want to use French expressions. For example: “I am not arriving at expressing myself clearly” is what I would write if I could use French!

As you know, I took advantage of my time in Europe by travelling a great deal, particularly to visit my family and friends in England. In that respect, this year has been a time of immense personal growth for me, as I had always been nervous about travelling to unknown places. Now if I want to see a place or meet up with someone in a different city or country, I do the research, hop on the appropriate transport, and get myself there! I find that I am much more confident when dealing with challenging situations and can distinguish between spilled milk and serious issues when getting frustrated or worried. I also value my loved ones a great deal. I always have appreciated and loved my family and close friends, but now I can see that distances are only physical barriers, they do not have to separate us from those we love if we are willing to put the time and effort into staying in contact. Visiting my grandparents and other relatives in England was a wonderful experience, as I was able to reconnect with them as an adult and on an individual basis. It was also lovely to see my mum after nine months and spend time with her in Lyon, where I have made a niche for myself. Travelling also made me realize how connected I have become to France, as I was always happy to come home to my apartment here. What a strange realization it was when I discovered that I felt more at ease being surrounded by French speakers in Lyon than by all the many English-speaking people in Greece and even in England!

I didn’t think it would ever happen, but recently I have begun to think in French. I pick up the telephone and have to stop myself from saying a French phrase to an Anglo friend. When thinking during a conversation, I also construct sentences in French without realizing and then have to scramble them into English before speaking to a non-French speaker. It was very satisfying on my recent trip to Nice to talk to people and see them realize that I do speak French. A man at the train station helpfully told us why the train was late and, remarking that we’d been talking in English, looked apologetic and asked if we could understand French. I said, “oui” and then ended up chatting with him for half hour about the train strikes, the government of Monaco, and the laws that regulate work hours in France. He interrupted me at one point with a rather surprised look on his face and said, “so, you really do speak French, your level is very good!” I think that may be one of the best compliments to get after the slow, halting process it took for me to really improve my French. And, of course, I still have those days when I get up in the morning and can’t seem to put a simple phrase together or when I enter a café and am left searching for the words to order something. If future study abroad students ever ask me about learning a foreign language, I will tell them that it is a hard and sometimes discouraging process, but in the end, if you put in the effort, you will improve and it will be worth all the work. Now I just need to learn Spanish… I’m enrolled in a class for beginners next quarter, let’s hope my French will help me a bit!

Looking back, the beginning of the year seems very far away now, yet I think my first month in France was the most important. Searching for housing was difficult and months later the ideal housing situation I ended up in has not dulled my memory of what a tough process it was. Being thrown into Lyon and living out of a suitcase while frantically searching through online ads for roommates was terrifying to say the least. However, I was surprised to find that I was extremely happy to be in Lyon despite the challenges of the housing search. My close friend Becky and I would say that everything would be perfect if only we had a place to live! And by some miraculous turn of events I ended up finding exactly what I was looking for: a single, furnished room in “collocation” with a French girl and with all the utilities included. I moved in immediately, saying goodbye to my friends at the residence we were staying at, and felt settled-in right away. After two weeks of sleeping on hard beds with unfamiliar bedding, it was incredible to go to sleep for the first time in my own bed. I think that was the best night of sleep I have had in Lyon! The initial elation of finding my apartment never really left me, mainly because as I got to know my roommate Anne more, I felt even more at home. It has been great to find an ideal living situation and get a close friend out of it! What’s more, throughout the year she corrected my French and even looked over my assignments to catch grammar mistakes!

Before coming to Lyon I was terrified about housing and it was the main aspect of studying abroad that I agonized over. If future study abroad students ever want advice, I would say that yes, finding housing is difficult and not fun. However, it is a fantastic way to get to know the city you have arrived in. You are instantly forced to take public transportation, get comfortable in internet cafés, communicate with people, and learn about banking, laws, and culture. For the most part, people are helpful when talking to foreign students, which makes the housing search a bit easier for internationals. If you don’t understand right away due to the language barrier or because you just don’t know what to expect with housing, it is absolutely fine to ask questions and seem confused. The people you talk to know that you are struggling with an unfamiliar language and country. Plus, being an international student is interesting, which makes you more appealing as a potential roommate. In the end, everyone on my program found housing that was ideal or, if it wasn’t ideal, they changed it.

Now that I am at the end of my year abroad I can say that it has been an extremely positive experience and a wonderful opportunity. I heard many people say that studying abroad was an incredible part of their time as an undergraduate. I definitely agree and hope that this is just my first experience abroad, not my only one. I am nervous to come back to California and sad to leave Lyon and my Lyonnais friends behind. However, I am beginning to feel ready for the next chapter, which perhaps shows that I have evolved as I haven’t felt prepared for that until recently!

Jenna Carlsson (Senegal, 2005-06)

Fun is not the word, Laura and I decided over 30 cent “couscous marocain” at the restaurant. We were thinking about our time abroad, how we will be heading home relatively shortly, and what it will be like to be back at home discussing our time abroad with others. If I could pick one word to describe my experience here, I stated, fun would not be it. No, Laura added laughing, fun definitely would not be the word to describe the year.

We were talking about what it would be like to regroup with friends and share experiences. It will be hard to relate, even with friends who studied abroad on other programs. Laura thought it would be hard to relate her experience to her many friends who spent the year studying abroad in Europe. Well, I know their experiences are very different from ours, I said, but it’s not like they didn’t have to go through culture shock too. True, she agreed, but I doubt they had travelers’ diarrhea. I thought it was possible. Still, she persisted, there’s no way they talked about their bowel movements as much as we did. OK, true, I said.

My concern is that people who spent their time abroad in Europe will come back to be like, Omigod! I had such a fun year! What about you? And we will be like…well, it was really hard. Laura jumped in: “I had to give bread to starving kids outside my cafeteria every day. Woohoo!” I chuckle. It’s true. I can’t compete with people who have had really “fun” years… but then again, that’s not why I came here. I didn’t come here expecting to have a really woohoo fun year. Not that there haven’t been many fun moments. There definitely have been really awesome times. But my goal in coming here was to learn… to learn so much… and I have definitely done that. That is what makes me experience a success. Kudos to you, Laura confirms.

No, seriously, Laura goes on, if I had to pick one word to describe this year, I think it would be ‘humbling.’ I nod in agreement. Humbling. Either humbling, or, ‘I learned a lot’, she says. Laura, I say, ‘I learned a lot’ is not one word. OK, fine, so, humbling, she decides. It was a good word.

It has been really hard at times… adjusting to so many new things, being on an isolated college campus (not that I’m not used to it at UCSD), dealing with language difficulties, feeling guilty for having money in a place so poor, learning that I will always be white and female, being called ‘la gazelle’ or ‘la belle’ or worst of all, ‘la mignon’ every day just for being white, trying to make friends across cultural borders…

But there is so much I would not have gained if I had not come here. I learned to appreciate so much, for one, but I also learned how much I really don’t need or even want. My eyes have been opened to so much more, I am open to so much more, and I am more the person I want to be.

Marilyn Shapley (Egypt, 2005-06)

“I have commuted between the world’s capitals:
Travel is no longer an achievement;
I must begin to do meaningful things.”

Dennis Brutus, I Have Commuted between the World’s Capitals

Thank God there are writers like Dennis Brutus to express the words bottled up inside as I try to describe what this year has meant to me. I know I expected more than just the stereotypical picture by the Sphinx with the pyramids in the background, but I greatly underestimated what I would take away from Cairo.

I’ve taken the hardest classes of my life, and I didn’t collapse. I discovered toilet paper is a privilege, not a right. I found out talking slowly and loudly will not improve my communication skills. I now have a friend to stay with in a lot more countries around the world. I can almost speak Arabic. I can pretend to know a little about refugee issues. I can even shake my hips like a belly dancer if Nancy Egram (an Egyptian singer) comes on the radio.

But, as important and memorable as these things are, they are not the greatest thing I take from my time in Cairo. What I really learned here is how little I know about the world. My dreams have grown exponentially since coming here, and not just in terms of where I picture myself traveling in the future. Being here has forced me to look at my plans for my education, job, even the friends I want to have, and the bar has been raised higher than it was before. I will take back a humble, hardworking spirit. It is a spirit that discovered the world is as big or small as I want it to be, and now I will reach for the stars and not just the sky. “I must begin to do meaningful things.”

Tamami Komatsu (Italy, 2005-06)

“Because it was starting to get dark and the streets were crowded, I bumped into a googleplex people. Who were they? Where were they going? What were they looking for? I wanted to hear their heartbeats and I wanted them to hear mine.”

Jonathan Safran Foer
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Although these are the words of Jonathan Safran Foer, it is really me talking and Chris, I know it is you as well.

I have spent almost a year now studying in Bologna, Italy and it’s been a lifetime. I’ve had the most amazing privilege of living and learning from three fabulous Italians and can honestly say that I’ve created a warm home and beautiful life for myself. Yet I have realized that no matter how hard I try I’ll never be able to express myself to them completely, that they will never see me how I see me, that some fundamental things about myself will never translate, will never make it over that barrier, that words are not just words but ideas, concepts, and emotions. I understand now the difference between being a liberal, open student and a liberal, open citizen. I know the agony of being generalized. I also know that with every experience a particular is automatically added to a chain of similar particulars that will eventually form a generalization, especially should it be a negative one. I know that openness can be a synonym for naive. I’ve realized that it is useless to tell others anything because in the end they already know it in the way they want to know it. I know that everyone feels justified for reasons they will never be able to express. I also know that all of what I’ve just said means nothing to anyone but me because all of that is founded on experiences that I will never be able to explain. I am 21 years old and I expect people to know and understand me from the moment they meet me. And you wonder why peace doesn’t exist in the world…. yet on the other hand, it’s kind of odd that it doesn’t when everyone, from the bottom of their heart, desires it above all else.

We’re listening for words; that’s the problem. Thanks to you, Chris, and the year you’ve given me, I know now what it is I’m supposed to be listening for: that universal beat that needs no common language or culture to understand. Finally, I know what it takes to be a global citizen. Oh, and Chris, I hear your heartbeat; it’s just a matter of time before we all get synchronized to it.

Alice Wagner (Scotland, 2004-05)

Living and studying in Edinburgh allowed me to grow tremendously as I began to establish myself in a new environment. The exposure to new people, new accents, customs, lifestyles, and a new educational system offered me a novel perspective on the world community, and a unique opportunity to grow as an individual.

I found that although two people may come from completely different countries, have two completely different backgrounds, and hold very different values, they can still come together on a common ground as students and individuals, and appreciate the diversity and richness of the Earth.

Henrick Shyu (Japan, 2004-05)

I’m a little hesitant to speak about my experiences abroad. There is so much to say that when people ask me about it, I don’t even know where to start or how long to go on for. I’ve hiked through frozen craters in Hokkaido, slept alongside the beaches in Kyuushuu, watched the sunrise from the peak of Mt. Fuji, and made and lost dozens of friends.

At this stage, it’s still too early to say how the experience has affected me as I find myself still changing, and standing at a fork in the road right now.

You see, I’ve recently been doing some job-hunting. As a graduate student majoring in Computer Science, I’ve applied to software companies and in fact have an interview scheduled shortly. As an EAP returnee who longs for adventure and mystery again, I’ve also applied to teach English in Japan, and will soon interview for that job. Family and friends say it doesn’t really make sense for me to teach in Japan, but at the same time, I don’t see myself being able to refuse an offer if I receive one. I guess only time will tell which road is for me. So, a lot of things are still up in the air. In a way you could say the journey is still continuing within me.

The experience overall however, has been a very positive one, and I consider last year to be the best that I’ve ever had. I feel that I’ve lived more than I could have hoped for already, and find myself being able to laugh more, and to give more because of it. It’s a sense of freedom really, from despair you could say. That one I owe to Chris.

Brian Israel (England, 2003-04)

My most shocking revelation while studying abroad was that I was experiencing revelations at all! In the years immediately prior to my year abroad, I had traveled extensively through countries whose radical differences from “home” could be immediately and tangibly felt, seen, heard, smelled, and tasted. It was against this backdrop that I assumed that spending a year in England, studying at University of Bristol Law was a copout – an arrangement of purely academic expedience. This assumption, however, went into the rubbish bin along with many other assumptions shortly after beginning my studies, and new life, in Bristol.

The “differences” I experienced in England were far more nuanced, and required transplanting my life and studying there to detect. Studying constitutional law in a country without a written constitution is representative of the kind of nuanced differences I experienced. In debates in and outside the classroom, I found myself explaining, justifying, and occasionally defending the “American way” of doing things – what I had long taken for granted as common sense seemed exotic to my British classmates. I thus became less “married” to the status quo, the way things have always been done.

Playing [American] football in the UK was another experience whereby nuanced differences that initially offended my American sensibilities served to open my mind. The rules of the game were not different, yet the mindset and approach of players was – something I came to recognize not as more right or wrong than what I grew up with – just different.

Beyond the fond memories, lasting friendships and acquired habits, the most enduring souvenir of my “copout” year abroad is a new way of thinking.

Jonathan Wang (Japan, 2003-04)

I believe that the best way to describe the impact of having gone abroad would be to present it in the form of advice to those who have yet to do the same:

Spending a year abroad does not open your eyes merely to the tones of another civilization, but inwards into the core of your persona as well. The moment you step off that plane and set foot on foreign soil, that is when it all becomes real. Fantasies, hopes, and expectations are swept away by the reality of the situation to which you have voluntarily exposed yourself, and the challenge of prospering in such a place becomes rapidly apparent over the next hour, the next day, and so forth.

Overcoming logistics, cultural unknowns, and the terror of interacting with native people as one who does not fundamentally belong is enough to survive for a year. But the fruits of an experience abroad come from raising the courage to overcome one’s own sense of fear and pride; to be ready to make mistakes, and to learn to withstand embarrassment. It is these personal thresholds that you must cross to be able to even begin experiencing the alien environment surrounding you. Without having come this far, one’s experience in another country can hardly extend beyond the imagination inspired by a marriage of textbook trivia and popular stereotyping.

One way or another, a year abroad will reveal new information, and while the breadth of that knowledge will certainly be greater should one learn to take initiative in exploring it, the real opportunity in traveling abroad lies in the opening of one’s senses to distant worlds, unfamiliar peoples, and new ideas. Once you have gained that, then it will be easy to enjoy the rest of the year. More importantly, the confidence you will have gained will last beyond the day you step on the plane headed back home, and you will be stronger for it anywhere in days to come.

Julia Carter (Egypt, 2002-03)

One of my most vivid memories of my year abroad in Egypt came on my very first day in the country. My plane had arrived in Cairo, seemingly wending its way through dozens of minarets, touching down amidst the shimmering heat and dust. Immediately I was swept into dealing with luggage, passport control, customs, and the choking traffic. I finally arrived at my dorm in the quiet, shady neighborhood of Zamalek and I sat on the edge of the bed, surrounded by suitcases. I remember that moment, sitting in the cool quiet, and the one thought that ran through my mind: “What in the world have I done?”

Looking back now, more than three years later, I know the answer to that question. That year in Cairo ignited an interest in the Middle East that is still an important part of my life. It widened my perspective to an extent that I hadn’t even known was possible. It humanized a part of the world that is routinely dehumanized in the media and in politics. It gave me a sense of self that continues to be a touchstone for me, and the knowledge that I can handle just about anything that comes my way. It introduced me to the amazing depths of hospitality, generosity, and humor that exist amongst a people. Last but certainly not least, it allowed me to perfect my hummus recipe. I am not a wildly different person because of that year, but I do think I am a more sensitive, courageous, perceptive, and, ultimately, a better person because of my experiences in Egypt.

Mary Jo Velasco (France, 2002-03)

I had known for a long time that I wanted to study abroad my junior year in college and that most likely I would spend that year in Europe. This is not too surprising, seeing as since an early age, I have had the enormous opportunity to delve into the customs, traditions and histories of different cultures. Raised in a bilingual/bicultural atmosphere, I have always been fascinated with discovering other languages and customs. It still astounds me to experience either personally, or vicariously, different ways of life from my own. It is then that the sense “everyone carries a personal universe of his/ her own” hits me the hardest. I realize now that even though I may not always be sure of different career decisions or of where I will be in a few years, my study abroad experience reinforced in me the sense that I will continue to evolve in different aspects of my life so long as I am open to truly share it with others. For it is in this open sharing that we discover the personal histories, the “universes,” of other people and forget to take our own for granted.

I am still living abroad today, and this, I believe, proves most persistently that my year abroad in Bordeaux, France left an indelible mark on my own personal history. I suppose I just loved French bread too much to want to leave! My year abroad was not only my first year so-away from home, it was a year when I developed friendships with wonderful people, passionate about my same interests to travel and experience different cultures. It was a year when I strengthened the confidence to adapt to a different system and flourish despite cultural and linguistic considerations. It was also a year when everyday life was a constant adventure and memorable experiences – like singing Mozart’s Requiem in a beautiful old church – seemed (and still do!) too good to be true.

Ultimately, I am very thankful for my year spent in Bordeaux, for it detailed a sketch of my life, my qualities, and my personal goals that I now continue eagerly to color.

Ben Winkler-McCue (Spain, 2001-02)

I spent my junior year of college living in Santander, a mid-sized city on the Atlantic coast of Northern Spain. My memories of Spain have a dreamy lightness about them. In the four years that have passed, I haven’t once returned for a visit. Excuses abound: plane tickets are expensive, the euro is strong compared to the dollar and I now have a real job with limited vacation. Yet deep down I know that none of these account for why I haven’t gone back. The truth is, I don’t want to visit, because that would only mean leaving again. No, the next time I go to Northern Spain I will not have a return ticket.

I fell in love with the life in Spain. I felt I belonged there. Everything felt just right. All of my hopes and needs were met and in perfect balance with one another. I was constantly learning, wrapped in a whole new way of life. Yet my time in Santander did more for me than expand my knowledge of culture and language; it increased my self awareness, and feeling of place in the world.

To all those who supported my year abroad, I am forever grateful. The fifteen some months I spent in Europe set the tone for the rest of my college experience as well as influenced my perspective and sense of place in the world. As time passes, I think less and less about my life in Spain. Yet when I do, the first impulse is always to buy that one-way ticket.

Ellen Holloway (Spain, 2001-02)

Just about every time I speak to someone in Spanish, they are impressed by my accent. They usually ask “De donde eres?” (Where are you from?) When I say “I’m from California,” they seem surprised and comment, “Hablas muy bien el espanol,” (You speak Spanish very well). Attending university in Spain my junior year made me a confident Spanish-speaker with a strong bond to native Spanish-speakers and Spanish-speaking cultures. From where I stand today that is the greatest impact my experience abroad has made on my life.

My love for the Spanish language has formed my life since returning from my year in Granada, Spain. I engage Spanish speakers at every opportunity. Earlier this year at Catholic Charities Immigration Law Clinic, I counseled a Colombian man seeking asylum. At this same clinic I interviewed a Salvadoran man regarding employment discrimination. A few weeks ago while volunteering with Community Tax Aid of Boston, I spoke to a Guatemalan couple about their income tax return; and just yesterday a Puerto Rican man helped me at a hardware store. Each of these people lit up when I spoke with them in Spanish, and I felt so happy to converse in their native language. The reason I am able to relate easily to people in Spanish is because I spoke Spanish every day of my year in Granada. I listened intently to people’s words so that I could make sense of the meaning of those words. I looked folks in the eye and asked them follow-up questions to make sure I understood. This is what I do today as a law student representing Spanish-speaking clients. I look them in the eye; I listen to their words, and I ask follow-up questions to clarify their concerns. The act of conversing in Spanish is delightful to me. In fact, it is consistently something that I seek out to enrich my life.

Since starting law school almost two years ago, I have questioned my decision many times. “Why did I want to go to law school?” I asked myself last Tuesday as I stepped into the lobby of my apartment building, where a man was vacuuming. I smiled at him and was reminded of the Salvadoran gentleman I had helped a few weeks earlier at Catholic Charities, a man who had been fired from his job because of an INS error with his work authorization. In that moment, I was reminded of the responsibilities of my educational privileges, including my year at the University of Granada. Studying abroad helped me to master the Spanish language, a skill which has come to shape my life choices. When I feel completely lost, I remember my love of travel, culture, and language. Studying abroad gave me the opportunity to develop that passion, a passion that continues to comfort and guide me today.

Shige Itoh (Japan, 2000-01)

It’s been almost 5 years now since I returned home from spending a year in Japan. In that time I’ve graduated from UC San Diego, completed law school, and ventured into society. Although it seems and feels like a long time ago, my experiences from my year in Japan continuously return to me. Whenever I meet someone from Japan, I become delighted by an indescribable urge to approach and converse with them. I believe this feeling comes from my insatiable curiosity that was particularly piqued during my time in Japan. It must also come from my desire to understand where my ancestors and part of my culture originated. But, my interest isn’t solely isolated to Japanese people. Whenever I meet non-Americans, I also get this same feeling. I attribute this part of my feeling to my understanding of what it is to be a citizen of the world, rather than simply a member of a smaller society. One beauty of studying abroad is the opportunity to mingle and meet people of other backgrounds and cultures who aren’t from the host country. So by studying in Japan, I not only got to learn more about Japan, but also about those around me who were also simultaneously taking in the wonderful aspects of the unique society around us.

I have also noted that my Japan experiences benefit me greatly in my daily life as a professional. I currently work with many international legal issues. To a U.S. trained lawyer, many of the laws of foreign countries neither appear coherent nor do they simply feel right. However, whether you agree or disagree with the foreign law, that is the law of the respective land, and one must respect that law or forgo transacting business in that particular jurisdiction. Perhaps the best method for approaching these differences is not by rejecting these laws as ludicrous, but to look to the cultural and historical underpinnings of the laws. For example, the laws in Japan are very different from those in the U.S., and at times seem convoluted and unclear. I have found that by referring to my historical and cultural understandings of Japan, these laws become much more rational as I begin to understand why the people who created the laws drafted the laws as they did. I believe this has made me not only a better thinker, but a more reasoned and rational lawyer. I know that without my experiences in Japan, none of these perspectives would be even comprehensible to me.

Yukio King (Germany, 2000-01)

My decisions over the years to learn a foreign language, play a musical instrument, take up competitive athletics or nurture my interests in urban landscapes have come to define who I am today. But that is only part of the story. The common thread connecting these multiple facets of my life is rooted in a seemingly harmless decision I made sometime in the Fall of 1999 to spend my junior year abroad in Germany. What started as an adventure that would push my boundaries over the course of a year became an insatiable interest in a city that lingered long after I had returned to my country of origin. Berlin became for me a city full of opportunity and intrigue and I knew upon returning to California that it would not be long before I saw it again. After graduation and multiple attempts to find a way back to Berlin, I said goodbye to the university life and came home to Yolo County in July of 2003 to start a new chapter in my life. After about three months of living at home and working full-time, I finally decided to book a plane ticket to Berlin to spend a month reacquainting myself with my old friends and neighborhoods.

Although my return flight was scheduled to get me home by Thanksgiving, the much-anticipated “Turkey Day” came and went and I was still in Berlin. By Christmas of 2003, I found myself in love with a Berliner and determined to make something happen for myself. Needless to say, my life had been turned upside-down and I was loving every minute. Anja, the Berliner, and I married in June of 2004. After completing an internship in Berlin’s city planning office and faced with the somewhat anemic state of Berlin’s city planning market, I decided to start work as an English translator for a local Berlin-based software company. I began taking violin lessons again and joined a rowing club. Recently I started a Masters program called “Sound Studies” at Berlin’s University of the Arts. Put simply, this program puts both a practical and theoretical focus on the issues of sound in our societies and built environments with the goal of creating a new generation of sound designers suited to work in fields ranging from architecture to multimedia marketing. This program offers me an exciting synthesis of my interests in music and urban planning with a backdrop of a city on the cutting-edge of contemporary creativity.

The true legacy of the Chris Borton Memorial Scholarship Fund (CBMSF) is far more valuable than the monetary support it provides. Embodied in Chris’ living memory, the CBMSF’s spirit of generosity and emphasis on connections beyond our borders have planted seeds in each of its recipients to help us realize the value of studying abroad. This scholarship helped put me on the path to discover a place that has become much more than simply a city with a fascinating culture and history. For me, Berlin is now a place of family and formative personal experiences that will stay with me long after I leave, whenever that may be.

Nicole Wu (France, 1999-00)

The EAP year abroad was the most rewarding part of my college experience. It was a great opportunity to immerse myself in a culture that I was always curious about. The French culture is a lot slower paced than New York… Living here, you sometimes get so involved in your day to day routines that you forget to sit and enjoy a nice meal or an espresso at a cafe. I feel that my time in France reminds me of that and now I make it a point (at least on weekends) to have friends over for a big dinner party with French wine (of course). I am always looking for French events in the city, movies or conversation round tables, where I can meet others with similar interests and practice my French.

I enjoyed the experience so much that I encouraged my little brother, Bruno, to go abroad as well. He is currently studying musical theatre in London (at least that’s what he tells us), and is absolutely loving it!

I still go to Brazil once a year to visit family and friends, and have already booked my flight this year for August. Since working in the Finance Department at Lehman Brothers I now have 3 weeks of vacation, instead of 2 (at my previous job), I get a little more time to travel to other places. In February, I went to Punta Cana, DR, with some friends. Although it was only for 4 days, we had a relaxing time in the sun! I am also hoping to go back to France next year for the Roland Garros Tennis Tournament. Hopefully, I will get to practice my French, revisit some of my favorite spots and reconnect with old friends.