May 2011 Archives

Courtney Driessen Blooming Prairie, MN '12

Perhaps asking the question, "Why am I here?" at the start of a blog might be taken poorly, but I feel that it is an apt question for anyone studying abroad. This question was posed to us, a group of mostly English and a few Science majors, by our professor Janet Ericksen. She, of course, was asking from an academic angle, but the question applies to each of us on this trip on a more personal level. Why am I here?

I have traveled 3,898 miles to spend 24 days in a foreign country. I may find myself in situations that are unknown to me and I may even experience culture shock. I am traveling with a group of 18 other students that I don't know very well and will be living in a house with 8 of these students. Everyday I will spend 3 hours in a classroom learning side by side with these same individuals. We may find others that have different opinions or we may disagree. Sharing bathrooms or kitchen space could drive us to frustration with a feeling that we have lost some privacy. With so many unknowns and the possibility of conflict, why am I here?

I am here because the potentials for growth and learning far out-rule any possibility or potential for conflict or discomfort. I will have the chance to stand in the same places that I will be learning about in books. I can touch the same walls as ancient Romans, Anglo-Saxons, or even the Britons. I will visit abbeys and islands that housed some of the greatest minds of medieval York. I will meet new people with different views on life and the world. I have the opportunity to expand my understanding of the world in which I live. As a citizen of the world, I will grow in understanding, experiencing first hand a different way of life. This trip will provide opportunities to push myself to great potentials, both academically and personally.

This is why I am here.

Courtney Driessen
Blooming Prairie, MN '12

I continue to be struck by the incredible amount of history in this city. Often, I feel that, as Americans, we miss out on the enormity of history. As a country, we only have a few hundred years of history, which makes it difficult to grasp the possibility of a deeper past. A statement was made today in class that left quite the impression on me; it was about the Anglo-Saxon arrival to the Northern regions of England. They were in awe of the generation that had come before them and felt that they were a decline of these previous inhabitants. I find it so difficult to grasp the possibility that the people I consider to be ancient history had others they thought of ancient history.

This makes me consider and wonder what generations far into the future will think of me and my generation. Will it be considered that we lived in a Golden Age in comparison to their own? Or, on the contrary, will we be considered to have lived in a Dark Age? What legacy is my generation leaving behind and how will the 2000s be viewed? I do hope that we will be looked upon with fondness and understanding. I hope that my generation will be a part of a history written about in history books and hopefully in a good light.

Seeing a city with such history, so many forgotten people, and so many remembered, I am inspired to leave my mark and be remembered.

(If you wish to see any photos of the trip check out this link to my personal facebook profile: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150187942761724.311388.502606723)

Alex Callais
Ham Lake '13

York Minster Abbey dominates the skyline of York, its steeples can be seen even from across the river. The importance of the Abbey is protected by York and no buildings are permitted to be taller than it by law. While the site is a tourist center now, it is still a place of worship and historical importance, carrying the generations that came before beneath its stone floors. Walking around the Abbey is overwhelming enough without going inside, as can be seen by all the passersby that gaze up with their mouths open, and to those in medieval times it must have been even more terrifying. The importance of religion throughout the ages is amassed in one huge cathedral that has seen conquerors become Emperors and its face destroyed and rebuilt time and again. The Abbey is the converging of multiple facets in York such as history, religion, culture, and tradition. Regardless of belief, it is a monument worth seeing with your own eyes as well as to witness how powerful the church was in people's lives.

Rose Schwietz
Mendota Heights '13

To continue a response to Courtney's opening question of "why are we here?" I would say that not only are we here to grow and to learn, but also we are here to experience. Our evening excursion for today brought us back to the grandiose York Minster for an orchestral and choral performance of Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 8, "Symphony of a Thousand." Sitting under the Gothic stone arches of the church, waiting in silence for the concert to begin, we were surrounded by vocalists, instrumentalists, music enthusiasts, gargoyles, and a thousand years of history. And with that in mind, the organ and the voices of the choir and strings exploded into the sanctuary--I was sincerely momentarily breathless. Attempting to explain the music itself in words would be both presumptuous of me and quite in vain, but I will try to give a sense of the overwhelming power of such a masterpiece performed within another masterpiece.
The Minster is, unfortunately, not designed for sounds of this genre; this caused some of the more complex sections of the symphony to be muddied by building too heavily on one another. However, any temporary distortion of the sound could be completely overlooked in hearing the four- to six-second ring following the conclusions of Parts 1 and 2 of the symphony. It was as if the masons' original intentions--that the Minster would direct all thought and prayer to the heavens--was embodied in the final chords being lifted from ground level up to the pointed arches of the gilded ceiling and out the stained glass windows to the skies above.
Being able to witness such an extraordinary and infrequently performed symphony within arguably one of the most impressive buildings in the United Kingdom was a noteworthy experience, to say the least. Simply hearing the music and watching the performers while surrounded by hundreds of hearts and eyes all focused on the same complex piece of beauty--there are truly no words to fully depict the sensation. We are here to learn, and to grow, and to experience, and hopefully to share all of this with one another.

Rose Schwietz
Mendota Heights '13

Yet another reason we are here--and perhaps the one that can encompass all the others--is to share. Over here in York we are novelties, just as everything we encounter is in some way a novelty for us. And because of that it's important and hugely beneficial to share who we are and what we've learned with the people we meet, and hopefully they will share something of themselves in return.
A few of us students have become particular friends with one of the vendors at the open air market in the center of the walled part of the city. Originally from Pakistan, this man and his wife sell clothing as regulars at the market, but they also travel around the United Kingdom to different fairs. Over the past week we have run into them several times, and he is always ready for a friendly chat. I personally have had exchanges with him regarding American history (specifically the Civil War), weather differences (or similarities--it's unbelievably windy here), and his own past as a vendor. He is the kind of man who is genuinely curious about unfamiliar topics and just interested in what one has to say--a friendly man looking to make connections.
In less regularly occurring cases, we have still been able to share bits of ourselves with the people we meet. Shopkeepers, waiters, and passersby stop to ask where we're from, what we're doing here, what we're learning, and the like. Being able to tell the locals we've come to their city to study literature from the time when York was the academic center of England; telling people on the train where we're from and where we're going to next; meeting other American tourists and making home connections away from home; sharing stories with one another as students to gain perspective in that manner--all of these opportunities are invaluable ones that we could not get just from reading our textbooks.

Sara Butterfass
Howard Lake, MN '12

"Wondrous is this stone wall, wrecked by fate; / the city-buildings crumble, the works of the giants decay. / Roofs have caved in, towers collapsed, / barred gates are broken, hoar frost clings to mortar, / houses are gaping, tottering and fallen, / undermined by age. The earth's embrace, / its fierce grip, holds the mighty craftsmen; / they are perished and gone."

These are the opening lines of the Anglo-Saxon poem titled by modern scholars "The Ruin." This version is a translation of the Old English in which it would have originally been composed. In York today I can see many of the same things that this 8th century poet saw in the city about which he was writing. He was writing about the Roman city of Bath in southwest England and felt dwarfed by the grandeur even of the ruins of their stone structures. As a wood-working culture, the Anglo-Saxons had no reference for stone works such as to be seen in Bath.
Today in York I can see the stone remains of the Romans, the Anglo-Saxons, the Normans, and the successive generations residing in York. There are the city walls that served as a defense against invaders, now outdated and crumbling in places, the York Minster continually under repair yet still an astounding stone structure despite its weathered and cracked facade, and other stone ruins like St. Mary's Abbey. And just like this Anglo-Saxon poet felt, it seems that these works were constructed by giants. I know that this is not true - it was skilled architects who built these structures, yet when you stand inside or outside of any of these buildings a feeling of being small and unimposing washes over you. The amount of time devoted to the craftsmanship still visible even in the decaying and crumbling remains is impressive.
Many of the buildings in York show some sign of their age, and this poet's sentiment that earthly things fall into decay and return to the earth where they are built can be felt over 1000 years later. Walking through a city where so many feet have trod and so much history has been made, whether or not it has been recorded, puts into perspective that as an individual, whatever mark I may make on this world may be insignificant in the course of time. However, this does not mean that I should not strive to make a mark. The men who built the stone structures in York and Bath were not giants, and did not intend to be remembered as such; yet, their work impacted a viewer even after it had become outdated enough for him to compose a poem about its beauty. And I think in the grand scheme of things, to impact the next generation in a positive manner is not such a bad way to be remembered.

Jonathan Anderson, 2012, Saint Paul MN

So, here I am in York, England, living more comfortable and care free than I ever thought possible on a school sponsored function. I've never studied abroad before, and for that matter, never traveled internationally before. But I don't think I could have picked a better time to do it, or a better group of people to have traveled with.
I decided to do study abroad because I felt that I would like to spend some time studying somewhere other than Morris, Minnesota. Not that I don't love Morris, but I felt as though I would like to experience a culture that I was not used to. In the last week I have done that over and over again. The most exciting thing about my trip is that everywhere I walk, I can see things that are older than America. History is interspersed with modernity. One can see a medieval church next to a nineteenth century pub, next to a modern supermarket. I hear that over here any time someone digs a hole to build something, there are ancient artifacts that turn up. Thinking that there is so much history just beneath my feet is very exciting.
My biggest joy here in the UK is that even though most of the same things are sold in stores here, there is an absence of cheap junk to fill in all the spaces. Meaning that the products available are better, and that there are less of them. Food included. Eating here is cheap, delicious, and healthy. I can't remember the last time I paid for something to eat with coins, and felt reasonably satisfied. Probably because I never have.
People that live here tend to let you go about your business. I'm used to the big Minnesota smile and hello, but it's refreshing to simply walk past someone on the street without having to feel obligated to tell your life's story on a morning walk. There is no malice in it, but rather just a blissful indifference:)
I am also glad that I chose to go with a relatively small group of about twenty people, and for the span of about three weeks in the summer. All the excitement is only compounded by the fact that I share it with some super people.
So, My lessons from the UK: A bar is a gate, a gate is the word for a road. But a Pub is a Bar. And trousers are pants, but pants are underwear. A truck is a Lorry, and black pudding is blood sausage, but Yorkshire pudding is bread. Pennies are pence, and longbow sounds like Strongbow. Cheers! Jonny

Katie Blais
St. Paul '12

I am a biology major and the may term course to York, England is a 3000 level English course. My only prior experience with an English course was an introduction level course: college writing. Why would I, a science major, go on a trip to read literature? My answer to this question is simple, it is because I am a science major and I learn from concrete facts. Is there a better way to learn about a culture than to live in it? I argue no; and so this was my driving force to take this class. I would be able to actually see the sights that I was reading about and not in some classroom in Morris reading about something that is not connected to my present world.

The course itself can sometimes be a challenge. The most difficult aspect of the class is learning to use the analytical side of my brain. Sometimes it is difficult to keep up in class discussion because most of the other students are English majors and so they understand other literary references that I simply have not been exposed to. Our professor, Janet Ericksen, does a wonderful job of explaining the literature to us non-majors. Even though it can be a challenge I find it very rewarding to overcome this challenge.

The trip has been everything I imagined it to be and so much more. The readings we have to do for the class connect so much to our surroundings. This connection between what we are studying and our physical surroundings allows the literature to really sink in.

Courtney Driessen
Blooming Prairie, MN '12

We have nearly reached the halfway point in our trip. We have seen two or maybe even three cathedrals, visited four museums, toured multiple historic sites, walked the city walls, become acquainted with the train system, and sat through 18 hours of class. This weekend we will be traveling to three cities for the chance to experience even more important medieval sites.

We have made unexpected friends and have come to know fellow students in a way that we may never have had the chance to do without this trip. We have tried strange sounding foods and mixed with the locals. At times we have struggled to interpret accents, but have the joy of talking with people that most intimately know what is foreign to us.

We have read centuries old poems, discovered the lifestyles and customs of those long passed, and learned how to evaluate their lives in comparison to our own.

Sadly we have only two weeks left of this trip and we are beginning to see the end, but this drives us to make these last two weeks worth every moment. Our relationships will continue to grow as will our knowledge. And as corny or cliché as all of this may sound, we truly are amazed and grateful for the opportunity that we have been given to be in this country learning at a level that is incomparable to any classroom experience.

(Just a note: Due to the trip to Lindisfarne over the weekend, no blog entries will be made until after we return. Look for a new entry either Monday or Tuesday night.)