Author Archives: alk5289

City of Magic: Prague

Whilst some students jet off what seems like every weekend for a new exciting destination, I have had to budget my trips more carefully. Knowing that funds do not extend to trips every weekend, I made a list of my top 5 cities/regions to visit in Europe (not before brainstorming every place I’ve ever thought of, even vaguely, of visiting…it was difficult to narrow it down from there though).

Straightaway I knew Prague was number one. Right now the rest of the list stands at (in descending order): Budapest, Vienna, Ireland and the Mosel River area (for the Riesling!). Luckily some friends are planning a (budget friendly) trip to Budapest in December, so that’s taken care of, but for the most part I travel alone, which puts a damper on how free I feel to just hop aboard a trip to some far away city.

However, back to the point, Prague was awesome! Alone, with a group, with a partner–it’s all good. Beautiful buildings, great centuries old architecture, so many sights to see, friendly people and safe/comfortable night life. All in all, everything I hoped it would be. Even traveling alone I felt safe at all times. Granted, I wasn’t stupid. Vigilance and awareness are important, but overall I felt safer in Prague than I do sometimes at night in Maastricht–which really isn’t that big of a town. I took the night train–big mistake. Who ever thought night trains were for sleeping?–silly me, not anymore. Now I know better. Night trains are for suckers. I’ll fly next time.

I arrived at Praha hlavní nádrazî (Prague Main Train Station) by 10 am Friday, tired and irritable, but so happy to be in my favorite city. The walk to my apartment (so much cuter and homier than a cheap hotel) was only 20-25 minutes. Arrived to find my apartment was pretty much perfectly located (sometimes maps can only tell you so much when you have no experience or physical knowledge of an area), merely a block from the Vltava River and maybe three from Charles Bridge, less than 10 minutes to Old Town and the Astronomical Clock and within easy walking distance of just about everything else.

Day One

The (nice) train to Köln/Cologne

After that came the very-much-not-so-nice-night-train

Just try sleeping on that!

Apartment in Ostrovni (Street)…piano included

Room with a view

The River Vltava

The first day out I just wandered around, trying to get my bearings. I walked up to the river and crossed the first bridge I came to. This sky is a warning (I promptly ignored) telling me I should have brought my umbrella. Just across the river were some lovely Art Nouveau houses, encrusted with the ubiquitous fig leaf. The details on buildings here–and just about everything else–is amazing. Benches with dragons/serpents at legs, wonderfully detailed, embossed lamp posts, mosaic granite sidewalks, and buildings dripping with graceful carvings and figures.

National Theatre

Then it was time for some food. Wandering makes me hungry. I found this cute little creperie down one of the little alleyways between buildings that opened up into a pretty little cobble-stoned courtyard. I had a delicious turkey, bacon and mushroom crepe and then for desert a wonderful homemade apple strudel with vanilla sauce. Yum! With a cappuccino to top me up, I was ready for more.
Prague at night is even more beautiful than during the daylight…as if this city could get any more wondrous.
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After wandering around a bit more, getting lost somewhere between Old Town and New Town, I was ready for bed. The next day was the best, in terms of taking pictures, so clear and sunny! I took a guided tour to a) keep me motivated and going out and b) to really orientate myself to the sights in Prague. It was great fun, and I would highly recommend it. I loved the way our Czech guide was like: “oh, this part of the bridge was build in the 9th century” or “New Town was founded in the 14th century”. New Town, only 700 years old! I love it.
Most of these pictures are from Prague Castle, which is really a large complex full of different buildings, including St. Vitus Cathedral (which was closed to visitors because they were–I think–sainting someone?).

Day Two

Included was an hour boat tour along the Vltava. Saw a lovely perspective; I’d highly recommend it!
Here’s a little video of this cute canal area that has, apparently, doubled for Venice in several popular movies.

Then is was off to Old Town and the Clock.

After the tour ended I continued my wanderings and explored a good bit of the right bank of the city (non-Prague castle side). The next day was sadly my last in the beautiful city of a thousand spires, but I like to think I made the most of it.

In the early morning (quite a feat for me) I walked up this huge park called Petrín Hill. It is a gorgeous nature park that includes a miniature Eiffel Tower, loads of orchards near the castle side, paved walking/biking/horseback riding paths, and the remains of the original fortified wall (Prague began as a fortified city). As a lover of fall and fall foliage, I had to restrain myself from taking too many pictures of just trees. I’ll try to keep it brief here, too. Whilst the hike up and down was exhausting and rather straining, the views were priceless.

Day Three

I swung all the way around Petrín Hill and ended up by the Castle complex. During our tour the day before we had briefly popped into the Wallenstein Gardens. Loving gardens as I do, I knew I wanted to visit it more in depth before I left.

Afterwards I simply continued my wanderings…a bit in the Jewish Quarter, some more time in the lovely Old Town and other random places. The following are a snapshot of the rest of the day.

Prague was beautiful and moving. There was such a lovely, warm atmosphere, I tell everyone to go there. I really loved how the musicians playing on the street weren’t pushy, they just played the loveliest accordion and violin and other instruments so well. It doesn’t hurt that I absolutely love the accordion. Why did it never catch on in the States? It’s really a shame. The mime/statue street performers were good and multitudinous…even if they creep me out a bit. The streets were crowded but I never felt rudely jostled or otherwise put out. I felt my heart lift (sorry, sounds so cheesy, I know, but it’s true) as soon as I started wandering around Prague. It truly is the city of magic.

Location: Prague, Czech Republic, Maastricht, the Netherlands

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder…

I have to wonder if going to a distinctly “foreign” country is easier than one which, on the surface, appears so similar. When going to the former, it would seem that you would go into knowing that there are going to be precious little in common with your American lifestyle–say, Thailand, for instance. I would think that someone would have a pretty good idea that Thailand is going to be very, very different. Thus, some mental preparation might occur to help adjust one’s anticipated perspective to a somewhat realistic image of what living there will be like–or at least not be like. Conversely, I feel that going to a country that appears quiet similar to your own leads naturally to a number of pitfalls. (Yes, I know what happens when one ‘ass-ume”s.)

One, you might assume that people in your temporary country would act the same as people in your country (i.e., America). This would inevitably lead you to smiling when making eye contact with people as you walk down the street. Wrong. We do not smile at people we do not know as we walk down the street in the Netherlands. I doubt they’d smile at someone they did know. If you did happen to see someone smiling, they are likely an oblivious American or a German exchange student. And we do not, absolutely do not move out of the way for old people, women, children, amputees, grannies in wheelchairs, a person carrying a large heavy box–not for anyone at all.

Two, you might assume that pedestrians have the right of way…after all a person walking across the street (after looking both ways) would be right to assume that it is safe to cross. Notwithstanding blind idiocy, it would seem logical to cross when there is no traffic. Wrong. Whilst a car will stop dead in its tracks at 50 km/h, a cyclist would run over his own mother if it meant the only other option was actually stopping. Hierarchy of the Streets: Cyclists, Pedestrians, Cars. Busses can be anywhere in-between, depending of course on whether the driver is Dutch or another nationality. I’ve left one out, but that will be explained in number three.

Three, you might assume that when you are cycling/biking that you are now at the top of the hierarchy. Wrong. Above you are motorcyclists, those grubby little, pollution spouting, cycle path hogging, almost knock you over when passing even when there’s more than five feet between you and the width he has to pass bastards. I can understand that when the cycling path parallels a main road or byway that some car exhaust is to be expected. I do not, however, appreciate inhaling mushroom clouds of motorcycle exhaust, which I highly suspect is unchecked and unregulated, as they sideswipe me every ten seconds. Emissions control, anyone?

Four, you might assume that when people talk of stereotypes that they are justing being mean-spirited. Wrong. I guess the PC term for it is “direct”, but really I would suggest the words “rude”, “irresponsible”, “self-centered”, “unconscientious”, & “lacking in basic manners”. The Dutch seemly pride themselves on this stereotype, but honestly it comes across as coarse, crass and uncaring. I used to get annoyed with the “how are you” greetings in the States that were merely per functionary greetings and not honest inquiries, but now I miss having someone ask me how I am, however frivolously. You just will not hear that here.

Five…ok, that’s enough. Really I could go on, but I think you get the picture. I try not to play into all the stereotype hype about other cultures or nationalities, but sometimes…Call it stereotypic shock, I guess. Although, I must add that the Germans I’ve meant have been genuinely nice and happier than the Dutch. If they’re a bit anal about timeliness, what’s the problem–they’re nice. And frankly, that’s all I care about right now.

Segue into yesterday’s little cycling jaunt across the border to Belgium. In a rare fit of energy, I decided that I would take advantage of the (equally rare) beautiful weather and head out on my bike. Now, my bike is not the best. It regularly gets stuck in 2nd gear, it squeaks with each rotation of the front wheel, and clacks with every turn of the pedal. But it’s all I have, so off we went with only a brief mental map courtesy of google, a bottle of water and my (finally) charged camera.

I started down Tongersweg, which leads roughly west by north west out of Maastricht. Followed it until I saw this little road to the right, and without thinking winged down the hill. It was a lovely little birch lined road, slight rutted, but overlooking some peaceful fields and a nature reserve.

It took me a while to realize that the small side roads leading down at 90 degree slopes were paths to the canal (of course, at this point I thought it was a river). But what the heck, I was in a wonderful new happy mood, so, down I went.

It was literally the most peaceful, zen-like feeling I have had in years. I wanted to take more pictures, but I couldn’t peel myself away from the simple pleasure of pedaling down this canal.

Ducks!

So much sun! (This is a rarefied deity here!) I tried to calculate my little jaunt using this belgian cycling site. All told, I think it was about 45 or 50 miles. Admittedly, I am not a biker, but this was such a soul-clearing ride that I felt I could have pedaled straight through to France. As it were, I went up, then back down and around and then up via the Maas River back into Maastricht. If you want a peaceful ride with minimal motorcycle exhaust and no cars, have a go. It is a very restorative place. By the end I literally could not stop smiling. Such a change from the past weeks in Maastricht (which regularly conspires to make me feel alternately foolish, idiotic and stupid, all of which equals a grumpy me).

In conclusion, if you ever find yourself in Maastricht and need to escape the Dutch for a bit, head across the border to the canals. Belgium–where people smile at you just for walking/riding by, where people move out of the way, and where even the sun seems just a little bit friendlier.

Location: Maastricht, the Netherlands, Belgium

Week One – August 20 to 26

I have been hesitant to write my first blog post from abroad for fear that the negativity would overwhelm the entire post. I did not and do not want to only focus on the negative, but my frame of mind has been just that since my debacle of an arrival. So, in the interest of avoiding sounding like a whinny, negative grouch, I will give a ~~brief~~ (okay, I tried for brevity, it just did not work out so well) bullet-ed overview of my first week.

Sunday:

arrived at Philadelphia with less than two hours till departure
couldn’t find a parking lot near enough to departures gate so that my boyfriend could spent those last minutes with me
went to two wrong places until eventually finding the correct terminal (employees sent me the wrong way twice)
get to security check point, wave goodbye one last time just before crossing the x-ray security threshold
get through security fine, arrive at appropriate gate, sit and wait, board plane, settle in for 7 hour flight to Frankfurt Germany

Monday:

arrive in Frankfurt, okay 55 minutes to get to next plane…not so much
hit a literal wall of people at the passport check point (what ever happened to German efficiency?!)
stand in line for what was likely more than 45 minutes
run to gate only to find out that because it was such a small plane that the passengers were ferried out to it by bus, which left 30 minutes earlier
sent to another gate (for next soonest flight) back down the terminal, down a flight of stairs with my two bags and half as far down another terminal
told that they could not transfer me from that gate/desk and I had to go back up stairs and to the very–and I mean VERY end of the first terminal I was in
fine, was given the next-next-next flight…don’t ask me why
they transferred my checked bag…or so I thought
wait two and half hours for the next flight (I might add that my ride from the school from Brussels airport was to leave at 12 pm…my new flight would only arrive at 11:30 am)
pay 5 euros for an hour of internet service to email BF and attempt to stave off a minor break down…fail
get on flight, get to Brussels after 11:30 am, wait at baggage claim carousel until all the bags have been expelled…no bag
find baggage claim desk, wait in line for over 30 minutes, find out my bag is still in Frankfurt, it will be here in a few days
look for the shuttle bus…major fail (having assumed that I had a ride to the university I had not considered alternate routes–big mistake)
find train station, get a ticket to Maastricht, ask employee at the platform which train was which to Maastricht
get on train, think everything is fine, start to feel better (i.e., like I’m not about to burst into tears)
train ticket guy comes through, tells me I’m on the wrong train (I’m heading towards Antwerp! In the entirely opposite direction)
get of in Mechelen, halfway between Antwerp and Brussels
find two lovely security guard gentlemen who write out the trains–yes, I said trains
transfer trains twice, finally feel okay like it is all going to be okay

get to Maastricht, need to get to my guesthouse/dorm before 5 to check-in properly
with no phone, money (well, euros), internet or map I wander around the one side of the city, circling back to the station three times
by the 3rd time I realize I can get euros there, not to mention something to eat and drink since I cannot remember eating since 3 am EST
wander again, despairing and wishing for death, my shoes cutting into my feet, my body utterly exhausted, and tears ever at the ready (I should add that I do not cry in public very often, in fact it’s something I abhor, which of course only made the situation worse)
finally work up the courage to ask the fellow coming out of the building, beside which I had sank in abject despair onto a 1 foot long cube of stone in a quiet space between two rows of buildings (an earlier attempt at asking for help failed miserable when the person I spoke with could barely speak English and was not from Maastricht or the Netherlands)
he very kindly directed me to the proper bus to take me there
get on the right bus, keeping eyes peeled for my stop
apparently I failed, again, missed my stop when I realize the bus has stopped completely and the driver as started to eat her dinner or snack
she tells me where I was supposed to get off, tells me she has to stop for 10 minutes before starting her next route…I cry in the corner (behind her so she cannot see me)
finally arrive at the guesthouse, get my key and vague directions to where my room is
open my door and start babbling like an idiot to my roommate
go out with new roommate for dinner

fall asleep at something like 4 in the morning, no toothbrush, no significant clothes, no makeup, toiletries, other shoes, etc

Tuesday:

wake up at 8 for orientation
…there is some other stuff, but most of it is a sleep deprived, emotionally exhausted blur, needless to say by the time I got back to my room (after finding out the my bag had not arrived) I realized I would have to go out shopping for everything I lacked…
all the shops in Maastricht close early, so after being out all day walking and being “orientated” I had to run back down to the city center
took a whirlwind tour through H&M and a drugstore for toiletries (toothbrush, yay!)
come back to room, pack all my purchases and the few applicable clothes I had in my carry-on
fall asleep sometime around 4 or 5 am

Wednesday:

leave super early (or so it seemed) for the train station to Brussels
get to London after 8 or so hours
get on the Tube (which is awesome!)
walk to hostel
walk/tube to the London eye
…basically it just loads more walking and walking and walking, the sites were great but all the walking was just running my physical reserves even lower

Okay! Some positives (see, they’re here finally)

Wednesday:

In London we rode the Tube everywhere, by the second day I was riding it alone and it was invigorating…some small thing to boost my poor battered soul, I suppose.

The London Eye was our first outing (aside from the awesome Tube). It was a very cool introduction to London. If you ever go to London, it is totally worth it to ride it!

I think I used half my batter power on my camera on the Eye alone (since my charger was in my lost luggage I was running on whatever battery charge was left from Sunday).

But it was worth the battery suck, the views are amazing all around. At one point I was just clicking away because I thought everything looked gorgeous, without thought or intent.

Don’t mind the glare, it’s just the reflection and odd warping of the curved windows.

Thursday-Sunday:

The next four days are a mishmash of museums, attractions and other terrific activities. Rather than bore you with the minute details, I’ll give you a photographic representation of the rest of my time in London.

And the best part: The British Museum!

This is from the Assyrian exhibit–my absolute favorite. I saw things I’ve only seen in books and it was so great.

Then the mummies! I was about half way through, starting with the Greco-Egyptian mummies, when the camera battery gave out.

And that was my first week abroad. A few horrible days traveling, a night in Maastricht and five days in London. I’m still adjusting, and since classes haven’t started yet, my body is out of sync and craving some type of stable schedule. Yet, I think it’s getting better. I only start to descend into melancholy once or twice a day, rather than every hour; I am learning my way around town; I bought a bike and braved the mean cycling streets of Maastricht once; and I finally received my class schedule–sort of, for one block at least. Half way through my second week, as I write, I find that I am craving the familiar, whether it is a cheesy American tv show or some food or drink similar to what I had normally at home. I was able to get my luggage on Monday, which helps a bit. Adjusting is a bitch. Whether it is from culture shock, a largely traumatic journey, a change in or lack of routine, or perhaps a longing for the familiar change is always difficult. But I’m trying to keep perspective. It doesn’t help that most of the time it doesn’t seem like I am truly in Europe. I do wonder when exactly that will sink in…

Location: London, UK, Maastricht, the Netherlands

Thoughts on Leaving, Feelings of Doubt

Recently I have been thinking about how strange and different life will soon be for me. As the number of days left at work dwindle and the final packages of *essentials* arrive in the mail, I am at once exuberant and doubtful. Part of me (and I’ll admit, it is an overwhelming part) is ready to chuck it all and hightail it out of here, as fast as that big ‘ole plane can fly! Another part of me is reluctant to make such a big step, especially one that has seemed little more than a pipe dream for so many years. Perhaps it is the concerned “You’re leaving?!” expressions from patrons and employees at work, with the connotation that I’m being “let go” or maybe it’s the “Oh, we’ll miss you!”, which whilst sweet and heartwarming is likely not the culprit. Rather, I believe it comes from the well meaning but vaguely belittling “…and leave this all behind!” and “…but you’re so good at baking!”. Oh, and let’s not forget “Oh! You’re going to school? This whole time? For what? My goodness?”. Silly rabbit.

I know I am good at what I do. With no formal training I can whip out lovey little confections and decorate them to the nines.

The problem lies not with the job itself. I think other people who dream of being pastry chefs–not that I really consider myself on that level–and go out and do it are great. Really, anytime you can do something you choose is quite an accomplishment. And therein lies the issue: I didn’t choose this line of work. It was simply one short-term job decision, in a long line of short-term, short-sighted, I-need-to-pay-my-rent, decisions. Yes, I enjoy it. Yes, I consider myself talented at it. But it does not bring me joy, not that pervasive, I don’t care about all this other BS that’s going on around me, I can’t wait to go to work today joy. Most days I’m lucky if I can rise above the prickly annoyance I feel for customers who think fifty cents is too much for a muffin or that $1.50 is an outrageous price for a handmade, from scratch pastry. Demoralizing. Maybe I’ve tricked myself in to believing this feeling actually exists in relation to a job. Maybe I’ll never find it. But I have to try.

When I would tell people that I am studying abroad or even for what I am studying abroad (psychology/neuroscience) I get the most shocked expressions. At first I felt extremely insulted, as if these people through their slacked jaws and bulging eyes were judging me unfit for my chosen area of study. I would forcefully haul back the indignation and anger that would spring up out the highly sensitive reaches of my inherently defensive mind.

Then I realized just how defensive I had become…to everything. It was like I was constantly building this arsenal of defensive comebacks just in case someone had an errant comment on why I was in the bathroom or why I dare deign to actually sit down and eat lunch or why I didn’t leap across the counter, floury hands and butter stained knuckles, to help them with that fifty cent muffin. Choice is paramount to my life. And choice of career a very basic need–no, requirement to my life. I am the type of person who cannot separate what I do with who I am. It is not something I like about myself, or my mode of thinking, but I cannot unravel the two. So it follows that if I cannot take pride in or derive more than merely a modicum of pleasure from what I do, then it won’t matter how talented I am it, how easily it comes to me, how quickly I pick it up, or how much I excel at it, regardless of the amount of external praise. I guess what I’m saying is that my defensiveness is merely a result of feeling not in control of my life, my career, my decisions, my choices. And helplessness is an ugly bedfellow.

Life is about Choice. You make the choices that define your life. If you feel like flotsam and jetsam simply being tossed across the sea, then perhaps you must examine your choices or look to where you failed to choose, only to be swept away with the waves always threatening to drown you. If I drown now, and I very well might, at least I’ll go down knowing that I made a Choice, one that is focused on life in its long, winding, glorious beauty and in which I have set the short-sighted ones aside for paths undiscovered, far from the only roads I’ve ever known.

Location: Lancaster, PA

Amy’s Anticipation of Adventures Abroad!

Greetings from Lancaster PA (not just the home of the Amish)!

My name is Amy Kautz and I will be coming to you from Maastricht, the Netherlands this coming August 20! I am a world campus student, working and schooling full-time, and am striving to keep my Crohn’s disease (an chronic inflammatory bowel disease that = crappy, literally) under control. Although this should technically be my last semester, I will have to complete the capstone class at PSU when I get back from studying abroad.

I currently work as a barista, baker and candlestick maker (just kidding on that last one). Here are a few pics of the little cafe at which I work, located strangely enough in a (upscale) retirement community.

The residents for the most part don’t get it…”Starbucks” or “cafe” is just not in their vocabulary, but I try. Just try explaining “espresso” or “g�teau au chocolate” a 90 year old! Most of my regulars, however, are very excited for my study abroad trip to begin. We have a weekly count down going…some of them are very sweet.

I am a psychology major and will be studying at Maastricht University (UM…well, that’s the abbreviation from the Dutch spelling!). I signed up for the Psychology and Neuroscience Program because they offered so many neuropsychology courses that I couldn’t begin to fathom trying to fit similar courses into my already crowded life! I wait with bated breath to hear back from UM on whether I got my first choices for my fall schedule. If all goes as planned, I’ll be taking the core course for the program, a Dutch language and culture course, a neuropsychological rehabilitation class (with work-site visits, I think!), intro to clinical neuropsychology, and evolutionary psychology!!! There are not enough exclamation marks in the world to express my joy/anticipation/anxiousness/giddiness/delirium/excitement/terror/fear/bliss at all these lovely course selections and to the whole studying abroad thing–IN EUROPE!

Insert cheesy line~~~> sometimes dreams really do come true!
…okay, that will be enough cheesiness, I promise 🙂

If you couldn’t tell, I am as surprised to actually be studying abroad as I am that I will be studying such a wonderful courses…in Europe, the dream of my youthful dalliances in fantasy and adventure! So, aside from the obvious “I CAN’T BELIEVE I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO EUROPE–FOR ALMOST FIVE MONTHS!!!”, there is the “oh crap, I still have to take care of my Crohn’s!” When initially contemplating studying abroad, I nearly let the fear of a flare or the difficulty in obtaining the medicine needed stop me. I pushed that silliness down fast! You see, I have to take a medicine called Remicade–an immunosuppressant that knocks out my immune system to keep it from attacking itself (i.e., ME!). In the states I go to a medical outpatient unit, where they also do blood transfusion and chemo treatments, get hooked up to an IV and then usually watch a free movie while it infuses (about 2 to 2 1/2 hours). Not knowing what the frak I would or could do while abroad, I nevertheless pressed the button: APPLY (for study abroad). Upon a little more research, I thought it a good sign when I searched where to get Remicade in Europe and found a manufacturing plant in Leiden–right there in the Netherlands! Good news. When I broke the news to my GI doc, I received a surprisingly exuberant response…not the furrowed brow and shaking head that I had envisioned, rather his excitement for me only solidified by confidence in my decision.

My goals for this blog are: to contribute to it regularly, try to minimize (or give fair warning to) the toilet talk–sorry, that’s just such an intregal part of my daily existence from which I can’t escape that it will inevitably end up here–, relate my experiences as world campus student (who has only ever taken university classes online!), and as a non-traditional student. And also include lots of photos, videos, and maybe some vlogs!

As of now, I am of the mindset that this will be akin to a life-break…no house, no kitty-cats , no boyfriend, no JOB!, no car–I feel like I am about to time-travel back in time to an alternate history version of my life! Upon all else, my goal is to give a unique perspective to studying abroad, through which I can hopefully inspired someone else, be it a non-traditional or on-line student, a full-time worker or someone with a chronic illness, to study abroad! My original inspiration was reading someone else’s blog (located I’ve forgotten where now) about struggling with Crohn’s disease AND studying abroad…twice, if I recall correctly. Inspired.

Thanks to all who have read through this long-winded, rambly first post!

More gratitious cat pics…what can I say, I love ’em!

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