6:30 a.m. Taipei, Taiwan
Matthew Harrison '01: Time for my tai chi class. Today we reviewed chu nü and tong nan styles, which are the first two methods men and women are taught when learning tai chi. Chu nü is probably my favorite exercise. Some of the maneuvers are more difficult to perform and can hurt at times, but overall it is more rewarding.
7:45 a.m. Madrid, Spain
Max Handler '01: In a hushed corner of my blackened habitación my drowsy alarm clock trips over some electrical impulse and, remembering the hour, begins to jabber incoherently. Ugh. The language normally crashing out of my radio alarm is Spanish--not this... this... noise like a drunken modem or a bunch of old men spitting gravel together. I must've set it to the Basque station again. Minutes go by. It's horrible. It really is. I sit up and turn it off with a well placed smack. Take that, tío!
8:10 a.m. Harare, Zimbabwe
Anolkah Thomas '01: I drag myself out of bed and I do what any person usually does when they first get up--I use the bathroom. This is my fourth and final homestay of the semester. The first was in a rural village, and the next two were in high-density suburbs in different parts of the country. This exercise finds me in a low-density suburb of the nation's capital, Harare. The only place I didn't have a toilet was the first homestay in the village. I take a nice warm shower. I wash my underwear because the domestic worker washes all clothes except underwear. Most Zimbabweans, even in the upper classes, do not have washing machines, but it is common for even people who live in high-density townships to have domestic workers.
8:45 a.m. Townsville, Australia
Sharon Silveira '01: Well, breakfast is definitely different here than in the States. They serve both hard- and soft-boiled eggs, spaghetti (Chef Boyardi-style), beans, cold unsugared cereal, toast, yogurt... and that's about it. So basically, I have four pieces of toast with butter and sometimes jam and red juice for breakfast every morning. For some reason, I just can't get into the whole spaghetti and beans on toast thing.
9:00 a.m. Tokyo, Japan
Robert "B.J." Bell '00: I have a pretty small family, three members--a host mother, a host father and a host brother--10 years old. I was nervous in the beginning, especially since I didn't know how much I'd be able to communicate. That hasn't been a problem at all. For one thing, I speak Japanese much better than I gave myself credit for; and for another, they are all very patient so I have a chance to actually explain myself. One of the highlights of the relationship has been the jokes--we laugh and really have good times together.
9:14 a.m. Paris, France
Marina Bonanni '01: I get off the métro at Mabillon and walk a block down Blvd. St. Germain, turn right at Rue de Seine and walk down a couple of blocks to the Palais de Luxembourg, home of the French Senate. I intern here about 10 to 12 hours a week. The Senate is in a gorgeous palace--decorated by Napoleon but dating back to Marie de Medicis in the 1600s. I was really nervous the first time I went, but now it's pretty much routine. It's surprisingly a very down-to-earth atmosphere, and we joke around a lot. The Senator is hilarious so it's lots of fun when he's here. It's a gopher job I totally enjoy because it means I get to go to those rooms with gold and frescoes and sculptures everywhere--this palace is so incredible. I say "bonjour" to everyone on my way. I grab the mail, go through the Salle de Conferences and stick my head in the Salle de Seances (hearings room). Yes, he does in fact sit in seat number 47 (No joke!) out of 361 senators--quite a coincidence.
9:15 a.m. Townsville, Australia
Sharon Silveira '01: During the first week of school I decided I had too much free time on my hands and found a job volunteering at the day-care center on campus. I get to paint with them, make sand castles and yummy treats for afternoon tea with them, sing songs and dance with them, read stories to them, and overall just get to be a kid myself again. One thing I think is really neat is that they make the children wear hats while playing outside. I think this is a good rule because it reinforces sun-smart behavior in children, something every child needs to be doing but especially these children growing up in Queensland, the skin cancer capital of the world.
9:30 a.m. Oxford, England
Alexandra Hui '01: Walking into college in the morning is good, productive, alone time. One can take in deep breaths of the cold air, ponder the unfolding day and try very hard not to get hit by the buses. I cross into Christ Church Meadows. The spires of Oxford beyond the meadows are gothic and cold. Daily it blows my mind how old everything is here. Europe definitely covets age, whereas the U.S. can't wait to tear down those dilapidated seafoam-colored buildings built in the recession. A month or so ago we were playing ultimate Frisbee with the University team next to the river. I looked over towards the bridge to see the medieval fighting club practicing with their swords and shields and traditional dress. Against the 700+-year-old backdrop, they belonged here much more than we did. I think that the present is out of place here.
10:30 a.m. Harare, Zimbabwe
Anolkah Thomas '01: Most other students have to take public transportation to get to the University of Zimbabwe, but I live closer than any of the others, so that means I can walk. I leave the house, telling Mai Mutedza, the domestic worker, that I am leaving in my broken Shona. The walk takes about a half hour to reach the front gate of the university, then another 20 or so minutes to Student Services Centre. On the way I sip my water bottle because although it's early it's already pretty hot.
Noon. Madrid, Spain
Max Handler '01: This class is Knowledge and Use of the Spanish Language, a sort of advanced grammar class for Spaniards where they learn why the slang they use is incorrect and why they should speak neither like textbooks nor like many of the farmworkers out in the fields. The professor is a hilarious, half-crazy man who is a perfect mix of Jack Nicholson and the short little bald guy who kidnaps Princess Buttercup in The Princess Bride (in-con-CEIV-able!). The class is my hardest, definitely, but also my favorite--and that's quite an accomplishment when we spend our days talking about things like the dipthong in the verb "bombear." Today we discuss and define the common mispronunciation of several selected vowel sounds. And I love every minute of it.
12:45 p.m. Tokyo, Japan
Robert "B.J." Bell '00: Ahh, class is over, and now it's time for lunch.
Since the weather is so warm today, a group of us decided it would be a good idea to have lunch on Baka Yama (Stupid Mountain). It's a lot like Marston Quad, except not flat. The reason it's called Stupid Mountain has to do with the teachers' stories. Supposedly, students like to spend all their time on the mountain, which results in their not going to class. I think the rest is pretty obvious. Kind of ironic because according to some of my friends Baka Yama is the best place to study.
1:30 p.m. Taipei, Taiwan
Matthew Harrison '01: After lunch and a short nap I head out to a distant field for my weekly gong lesson. I took piano lessons growing up in the States, but I had no formal training or experience with the gong up until now. Most people are under the mistaken impression that the gong is just a large piece of metal that you bang with a stick, and even though I'm half Chinese, I myself was not fully aware of the wide-ranging musical splendor of the gong. However, with these lessons I have come to realize that, when mastered, the gong is probably the most beautiful of all instruments. Today at my lesson I work on the first four stanzas of a piece my teacher gave me last week. It's titled Xin Na Sui and it is a very difficult and physically demanding work to perform, but my teacher is patient, only occasionally striking me with her teaching stick.
2 p.m. Harare, Zimbabwe
Anolkah Thomas '01: Out of 20 students on the program, eight, almost half, are taking this seminar in Zimbabwean literature. Our professor is originally from Bulawayo, where we had our last home stay. He's Ndebele, a tribal minority that constitutes at most 16 percent of the population. Like many Zimbabwean scholars, he has been educated in South Africa and England. He lectures for two hours straight in his British-accented, soothing voice. It's hard to concentrate, and students can't avoid staring out the window to observe Zimbabwean students socializing between classes. Not that the class isn't interesting--he's lecturing about Tsitsi Dangaremba's Nervous Conditions, which addresses Shona traditional gender roles. It also portrays education as both a liberating and entrapping force because it offers opportunities but can isolate the educated from their less educated kin.
2:15 p.m. Oxford, England
Alexandra Hui '01: Modern Philosophy Tutorial. Andy, Mike and I sit across from the quintessential philosopher, Dr. Roland Stout--messy hair, dark sweaters and appearance of easy insightfulness, a very powerful mind. We're in the Breakfast Room of Merton College, sitting around a large wooden table. Carved wood paneling, a large marble fireplace converted to a white-board, intricate glass windows, high ceilings. Echoes. Andy leads a discussion on the Post-Modern condition. He outlines Sartre, Tayor and Camus' basic theories and we proceed to dissolve into discussion/argument about it all. Pretty demanding. You have to be on. The beautiful room, the large table, the semi-rigorous philosophical debate. I think this is how philosophy is supposed to be. I have yet to take a philosophy class at Pomona, but right here, right now, I feel clever.
2:30 p.m. Conocoto, Ecuador
Brian Schwartz '01: After class a few friends and I proceed to Quito, a half-hour on the bus. Arriving at El Ejido park, we change money, barter with street vendors and e-mail. There's always a sense that we don't deserve what we have, especially when in the morning I learn that 80 percent of the Ecuadorian population is below the poverty limit and in the afternoon 5-year olds beg me for food or money in the streets. As we walk across town to an ultimate Frisbee game composed of mostly gringos, to the west loom the Andes, specifically Guagua Pichincha, the active volcano that haunts the capital city. The top half is covered by clouds, holding the temperamental rain and hail that falls often and erratically, soaking the clothes hung out to dry.
5:43 p.m. Paris, France
Marina Bonanni '01: I probably spend way too much time at cafés here. But they're the perfect place to talk or just relax and read a book. I've been carrying around my politics book all day--I've got lots of reading to finish up today because three of my classes are meeting tomorrow. I sit at a corner table and order an espresso. There are few people in the café--two businessmen having a beer, two older ladies talking, two Americans. Drinks are expensive because the idea is to sit for a while--that's what I usually do. It's really peaceful and I end up getting lots of reading done.
8 p.m. Harare, Zimbabwe
Anolkah Thomas '01: We have a traditional meal of sadza with beef stew and a spinach-like vegetable called rape. Sadza is a staple food of Zimbabwe, made by adding finely ground meali meal (of maize) to water and cooked on an open hearth in the villages, on a stove in the cities. The result is something that could be described as a thick porridge that is extremely starchy.
8:05 p.m. Madrid, Spain
Max Handler '01: I ring my friend Lenneke's doorbell and she lets me into the apartment where she, Tato, Jamie, and I prepare dinner. Tato is Lenneke's flatmate from Bilbao, in the Basque country. Short and twitchy with nervous energy, Tato always has to be the center of attention, which is fine with everyone because he's so damn funny. His real name, in Basque, is Eduardo Aldania Ruiz de Velasco Zuparen Lauregi Etxebaria Lekerikaleaskoa Lapitz Olabe. So instead we call him "Tato."
9:15 p.m. Harare, Zimbabwe
Anolkah Thomas '01: I am dead tired and go to sleep after working on some homework. Yes, this is early by the standards I would hold in a regular semester (at Pomona, as a matter of fact, I'd usually be starting homework at this time). But in Zimbabwe, this is our usual bedtime.
10:25 p.m. Paris, France
Marina Bonanni '01: I miss American plumbing... That's all I can say.
10:30 a.m. Tokyo, Japan
Robert "B.J." Bell '00: Funny thing is, I didn't even want to study abroad when I first entered Pomona, but I'm glad my feelings changed. It would have been a shame had I missed out on such a wonderful opportunity.
11 p.m. Conocoto, Ecuador
Brian Schwartz '01: This day wasn't spent on the coast where malaria, dengue, cholera and other diseases infect people who can't afford running water and just recently received electricity. Nor was it spent in the cloud forest where mining companies destroy endemic epiphytes, butterflies and bears, nor in the rain forest, where oil companies poison indigenous people and "displace" them from their homes. It was, however, a day when the exchange rate went up ($1=16,500 sucres), the foreign debt increased, someone was mugged by someone else too poor to feed his family, and yet another someone shared what they had with everyone they know while the gap between the rich and the majority grew wider. As I go to bed I know it was just another day and most everyone here is content. And I'm worried because I know my country doesn't care about the country I've got on loan.
Midnight. Oxford, England
Alexandra Hui '01: Routine, as well as the shortening of daylight, means that days are blending together faster and faster now. Does this mean that I am beginning to take the little things in life here for granted? Probably. But I think that is a big part of integration--looking right before crossing the road and not even thinking about it.
