april 09 volume 02

april 09 volume 02
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May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, halftruths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep
within our hearts.
May God bless us with anger at injustice,
oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may
work for justice, freedom and peace.
May God bless us with tears to shed for those
who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so
that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and
turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless us with enough foolishness
to believe that we can make a difference in this world,
so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.
-- a franciscan benediction
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VIA, Valparaiso InterAction
SALT is the social justice ministiry of the
Chapel of the Resurrection, Valparaiso
University, Valparaiso, IN, 46383
Out of the Social Action Leadership Team
(SALT) mission and call to develop and practice a Christian theology of social action, SALT
members created VIA to connect their experiences abroad with their communities at home
and on campus.
VIA is a publication dedicated as a forum for people
to explore, share and learn about various social justice issues as they
journey abroad, home and back again. Through essays, short stories,
photos, poems, art, and other creative expressions, students will be provided with an opportunity to share their experiences and
concerns for the current state of
the world. It will serve as a guide to future
travelers and social justice agents to
be intentional about their time abroad and to
consider their experiences as a journey filled
with opportunities to learn, share, educate,
and serve. This magazine will support the
celebration of diversity along with the recognition of our common humanity; its contributors
hold the hope that it will encourage and challenge those in our own community to uphold
and promote these values.
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photo by brittany partin, japan
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Adventures Abroad -- Table of Contents
18 hours
36 hours
A Late Night Drink
Auf Wiedersehen. Reutlingen
Bamboo
Untitled, Belgium
Bi-Lingual Fun
Boats
Cape Town to Rochester, NY
Cape Point
Cemetary
David
Dinner with a Chinese Family
Elephants
Faces of the Future 1-3, Namibia
From the Tower of Great St. Mary’s Church
6
7
20
28
22
28
21
15
29
29
25
21
23
27
18
8
Gelato
15
Untitled, Hangzhou
22
Untitled, Haiti
25
Historically White
24
Untitled, India
26
Journal Excerpts - Glimpses into Lives Abroad 20
Kenilworth, England
10
Kids Swinging
10
Little Feet
Lost in Katutura
Masks for Sale
Untitled, Morocco
My First Day in Cambridge
Okahandja Park
Orange Tinted Memories
Only the Brightest Colors, Peru
Russian Dolls
Untitled, Spain
Still Waters
Sure, I found love at East Side Gallery
Taxco, Mexico
Things I’ve Done in Germany Thus Far
Underground Tunnel
Utrecht
Weihnachts
Weimar, Waiting for the Bus
What is Winter, Anyway?
Work
18
19
14
11
9
25
12
6
26
11
8
14
5
14
20
9
16
28
16
7
ph
Study Abroad
10
International Opportunities On Campus 26
Interview with International Students 27
photo by april edwards, ireland
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“i think i need to
decide what kind
of person i want
to be here...”
-- journal excerpt from brittni emery
photo by anni metz, mexico
nd
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photo by larry gaither, peru
18 hours
By Molly Reynolds, Mexico
5:30 am – wake up in Chicago
6:44 am – set out for O’Hare International Airport
7:03 am – get into a car accident
7:20 am – kiss mother good bye
day
7:21 am – leave winter coat behind
9:34 am – buy a muffin
9:52 am – board an airplane
10:03 am – panic during takeoff
2:28 pm – arrive at the Mexico City Airport
3:24 pm – exchange some money
4:18 pm – get on a bus to Puebla
6:46 pm – take a taxi from Puebla to UDLA
7:32 pm – meet one of my roommates
8:13 pm – eat some all-meat tacos at Suprema Salsa
9:36 pm – unpack suitcase and make bed
11:30 pm – say Buenas Noches for the first time
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36 hours (with time zone changes)
By Andrew Zimmer, Japan
4:00 am - wake up in Detroit
5:15 am - leave for the airport
6:27 am - purchase expensive bagel, and wave goodbye to my parents
6:44 am - still waiting in the security line
7:55 am - still dark, transferring planes in Chicago
10:30 am - land in San Francisco
10:46 am - depart for Japan, short of breath from running
2:03 pm - watching the in-flight, straight-to-DVD movie
4:25 pm (but really 12 hours after departure) - land in Japan
4:35 pm - grab two huge suitcases from baggage claim
4:49 pm - meet first friends on the bus ride to Kansai Gaidai University
7:04 pm - arrive at KGU
1
7:12 pm - take shoes off before checking in to residence hall
7:16 pm - meet roommate, from Finland
8:00 pm - take a “super-market” tour of the local area
8:34 pm - eat first food in Japan: a chocolate candy bar named
“Crunky”
11:13 pm - fall asleep on the tatami mats
photo by james strasburg, china
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photo by kelsey howard, england
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photo by kris adamik, wales
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ales
My First Day in Cambridge, By Kathryn Kattalia
5:00 p.m. —Arrive at O’Hare airport two hours before the rest of the group arrives. Kill time by people
watching.
6:00 p.m. – Getting antsy. Do a mental checklist to make sure I didn’t forget anything important. Lament the
pair of patent leather stilettos I had to leave behind in interest of space and weight restrictions. Think it’s
dumb that suitcases can’t weigh more than fifty pounds.
6:10 p.m. – Except my suitcases look like they might each weigh more than fifty pounds. Hope parents are
willing to pay fee for having heavy luggage.
7:00 p.m. – Meet up with the rest of the group. Take awkward group picture with future housemates.
7:01 p.m. – Second thoughts. It’s still not too late to go home.
8:00 p.m.—Made it through security. Buy what could be my last frappucino ever before returning to the
states. More second thoughts.
9:00 p.m. – Board the plane. Thrilled to find I have an aisle seat. Not thrilled about the seven hour flight
ahead of me.
9:15 p.m.—Take off. Turbulence. Fingers
crossed.
4:15 a.m.—Arrive at Heathrow airport in
London. So sleepy.
4:16 a.m.—Realize it’s actually 10:16 in
the morning. The day has just begun.
11:30 a.m.—On a bus that’s much too
large flying down the left side of a road
that’s much to narrow. Shut my eyes.
Feeling slightly sick.
1:30 p.m.— Lurch to a stop in front of a
charming, yellow brick house. Apparently
I live here now.
3:00 p.m.—Embark on a walking tour
of Cambridge, England. Amazed by how
old everything looks. Try to fake an English accent. Fail.
3:15 p.m. – Spot a Starbucks! Decide I’m
in love with England.
4:00 p.m. – Climb the bell tower of
Great St. Mary’s church and get a sweeping view of the city. Tingle with excitement that I get to live here for the next
four months.
5:00 p.m.— Meet the rest of the group
and the Cambridge program director
for dinner at a traditional English pub.
Try fish and chips and mashed peas. Not
impressed.
10:00 p.m. – Go to bed exhausted, head
slightly spinning. Wonder what everyone
is doing back home. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings.
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photo by james strasburg, netherlands
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STUDY ABROAD
www.valpo.edu/studyabroad
photo by megan lee, namibia
Windhoek, NAMIBIA:
photo by becca shoemaker, england
Cambridge, ENGLAND:
Live with up to 17 VU students in 2
housing facilities at the seat of one
of Europe’s most prestigious universities. Take classes at VU’s own
study center in art, theology, history,
or sociology with opportunities to
travel and explore England and more
of Europe.
OR
Directly enroll and live at Anglia
Ruskin, a British University for up to
one year. General studies and classes
according to your major are offered.
Hangzhou, CHINA:
Offered only during the fall semester,
join students from VU and other universities in studying Chinese language
and culture at Zhejiang University.
Students live in dormitories with other
international students, take classes and
have the opportunity for an internship.
No language required.
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Join up with 23 other students to stay
in and explore the capital city of Namibia.
Live in a house together and take classes
in history, politics, theology and development with opportunities to volunteer or
intern. Also included are travel seminars
in Johannesburg and Cape Town, South
Africa as well as 2 urban and 1 rural home
stay. No language required.
Paris, FRANCE:
Become immersed in Paris while living in a dormitory with an
international roommate. Take classes in French, at your placement level, at the Cours de Civilisation Française at Sorbonne
for the spring semester or a year of study or at the Institut
Catholique de Paris in the for up to a year. Opportunities for
service-learning and business internships.
OR
Explore Paris by taking a French language class and two other
classes for 8 weeks, followed by eight weeks working full-time
at an internship. Students live Paris with a French family or in
a student resident hall.
OR
Study through an exchange program at l’université de CergyPontoise. Take 9 credits of French as a foreign language and
two other courses. Live in a student residence hall. Cergy is
a 12,000 student university on the Seine, a 40-minute ride on
the RER from central Paris.
4 semesters French required for all programs.
4/8/09 12:11 PM
ia
Granada, SPAIN:
Spend a fall semester at the Center
for Modern Language at the University of Granada. Students live with a
host family and take classes in Spanish at their own level. Completion
of Spanish 204 and 1 other 200-level
course.
Puebla, MEXICO:
photo by joanie haseman, spain
Reutlingen, GERMANY:
Join up to 19 VU students to live in dormitories with Germans
and other international students in a town outside of Stuttgart.
Take classes in art, economics, German culture, and the German
language. Explore parts of Europe independently or on several
group trips. No language required.
Tübingen, GERMANY:
Engage in a full year of study at the Eberhard-Karls-Universität in
Tübingen, a town near Stuttgart. Begin with a one month-long
language and orientation program and then complete two semesters of classes. Students live in dormitories or living communities
with shared common rooms. Completion of 4 semesters German
required.
Study through VU’s program at la
Universidad de las Américas. Become
immersed in Mexican culture through
dormitory life with Mexican roommates, classes in Spanish and travel
around the country. Spanish 203
required.
Osaka, JAPAN:
Participate in up to a year exchange
at Kansai Gaidai University. Live with
a host family or in dormitories on
campus while studying the Japanese
language and taking Asian studies
courses taught in English. 2 semesters
of Japanese recommended, but not
required.
Athens, GREECE:
Offered only during the fall semester,
participate in the highly reputable
College Year in Athens program
with 100 other students. Live in
apartments in Athens while studying Ancient Greek Civilization. Join
field trips to places such as Crete, the
Peloponnesus, and Macedonia, as
well as other travel to countries such
as Egypt, Italy, Israel, and Turkey. 16
credits of Greek/Classics required.
Need more information?
Contact the International Studies
Office: [email protected]
OR 219-464-5333
www.valpo.edu/studyabroad
photo by joanie haseman, morocco
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Orange Tinted Memories, By Brittany Partin, Japan
Kyoto was always my little mental
of us together: me, unmistakably not Japafantasy place. It was only fitting that
nese even under all the all the layers, the wig
while I was studying abroad in Japan
and the white plastered face, and Sayuri, in
that my speaking partner would hail
her fake tan, bleached hair, and western style
from there. Sayuri was a very Japanese
clothes. Irony at its finest.
girl, and by that I don’t mean she prac
My favorite memory of that day, howticed tea ceremony. She had a fake tan
ever, turned out to be riding back to the staand pale hair to match and she had
tion with her. Sayuri admitted it had been
her parents’ money to spend. She had
years since she rode with anyone on the back
a boyfriend, wound hang out with
and found it difficult, but I couldn’t feel
friends from her hip hop danc“As
Sayuri
that sorry for her. I was enjoying it too
ing club at school, and would
sing karaoke. But was definitely whipped out much: the air was quiet and comfortfrom Kyoto; she had the accent her cell phone able that day. Along the other side of the
river, I could enjoy watching the sunlight
and a weakness for anything
to
text
her
hit the water’s surface. The maples on
green tea flavored. Kyoto, more
so than any other place I had boyfriend, I the pointed hills surrounding the area
been to in Japan, had anything snapped a pic- were crisping in color, and the edges of
green tea flavored: ice cream, ture which I am the river were populated with scattered
groups of people enjoying a simple day
rice cakes, soba noodles.
particularly outside. Sayuri, despite supposedly be
The other day I found
myself thinking back to a day fond of. She ing tired, was whistling along to whatin October when we went to was completely ever tune was stuck in her head as we
whipped down the road.
Arashiyama, which had been
unaware...”
one of my favorite outings
with Sayuri. With me riding
on the back of her bicycle, we talked
about an argument she had had with
her boyfriend as we glided along the
river and the trees. We then got to the
place I had made an appointment to
be dressed up (note that this is passive
voice, as one cannot dress herself up) in
a twelve-layered kimono and have my
picture taken. Sayuri enjoyed watching, and the ladies who ran the place
agreed to take a picture of the two
At one point we stopped to take
a break. As Sayuri whipped out her cell
phone to text her boyfriend, I snapped a picture of her which I am particularly fond of.
She was completely unaware, and her profile
shows that she is engrossed with her cell phone
while standing there alongside her bike. It’s like
she’s oblivious to the landscape captured in the
photo: the sunlit river, the hills, the plethora of
trees, and the road we were still following.
Having felt very nostalgic about this
October day. I brought up the picture again on
my computer when I returned to my dorm.
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pawig
in
yle
est.
-
k
el
o
he
ht
f
d
y
Only I realized: that isn’t how it happened!
My memories had been warm and glowing. But in this picture, the leaves had not
yet changed color. The sun was not illuminating Sayuri. The only orange things in the
picture were Sayuri’s hair and the reflector on her bicycle.
My memories had fooled me, making that day more splendid that it actually was
at the time. I neglected to think back fondly about the bruise I got sitting on the metal
frame of the bike. There were pictures I wish I would have taken when I was dressed up
but didn’t, and there were no fish at the bath house. I even further neglected to recall
the parts of that day when I was bored, and the part earlier in the day when I was waiting at the station was convinced she wasn’t coming after all. I even avoided thinking
about the rather awkwardly stale conversation on the last evening we spent together
before I left, and how we had planned to get together one more time but never followed through.
I still like the photo.
It still had the river, the air, the trees and Sayuri and her bicycle. It’s just
colored darker than I remember. My memories are still free to highlight as much as they like.
l
-
e
ne
ike
he
of
on
photos by brittany partin, japan
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below photo by kati schmidt, germany
above photo by kelsey howard, england
things i’ve learned in Germany thus far:
By Kati Schmidt, Germany
1. dein hund ist hubshe: your dog is cute.
2. kleenex and hand soap is neither the best nor the worst way to wash a sink.
3. you can’t buy music from iTunes if you’re not in the US.
4. people don’t say hi to each other on the street. smiling at a passerby warrants a very
awkward look.
5. wattage matters, especially on small motorized appliances such as the hairdryer you
brought from home.
6. public transportation is great.
7. Germany is slightly larger than Montana.
8. hole-in-the-wall eateries and stands in squares are the best places to eat.
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9. the customer is not always right in Germany.
10. make plans before you go, but be ready for anything. and bring a map.
4/8/09 12:11 PM
When in Italy,
Ellen, Kelsey, and I (Jon Becker)
had 24 different types of gelato.
I decided to keep a list of these flavors, in order of who had what
(I clearly was not pulling my own weight here):
Kelsey:
Panna Cotta,
Nutella,
Banana,
Panna Ciocolatta,
Biscotto,
Tiramisu,
Mint Chocolate,
Ciocolatte,
Mr. Nicco,
After Eight,
Malaga
rd, nd
Ellen: Pistachio,
Limon,
Chocolate,
Pear,
Fondante,
Strawberry,
Chocolate orange,
Milk Crème,
Bignolata,
Noce Fiche
Jon:
Chocolate Hazelnut,
Black Cherry,
Wildberry.
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photo by paul schreiber, italy
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What is Winter, Anyway? By Jon Becker, England
An elderly man takes a seat facing my friend Kelsey. He is wearing a dark blue golfer’s hat, and his face is wearily well worn. The black circles around his eyes would have been
an indication of a fight the prior night on a younger man, but I knew better. These were dark
eyes of a long tiring life. Our train is currently sitting on platform F in Nice, awaiting its departure to Genova. By the end of the day, we will be in Rome. It will be ten hours before we get
there, and this end destination still
feels like a fantasy at this point.
Train travel has become a way
of life for us at this point. We left our
house in Cambridge a week ago and
won’t be back for another ten days.
Malaga, Sevilla, Cordoba, Barcelona,
and now Nice have already revealed
to us a thinly veiled disappointment
at how little attention we’ve paid
them. One day here. Two days there.
We are rushed. We are crazy. We are
American.
The elderly man is soon joined
by someone who I assume is his
daughter. He scoots over to the window and she sits down in the aisle
seat. There is an open seat open
next to Kelsey, but this will soon be
occupied by a young well-dressed
Frenchman. He attempts to start a
conversation with her. She waits for
him to pause before politely replying,
“I don’t speak French.”
“Italiano?” “Just English or Spanish.” Ellen, who is seated next to me, does speak French.
She tells me that he is looking for his seat number. Several other people appear to be having
the same problem, but do not have the courage to commit to their seat like this young gentleman. They walk up and down the train car, more impatient and less certain with each pass.
There is an older African woman dressed in traditional garb. She is covered from head
to toe in a green forest print that hangs loosely on her body. It is stunning. Her luggage is
slung over her back and held by one hand. It looks like a large reusable cloth grocery bag, and
is filled to the top. She eventually makes her last pass and presumably ends up finding her seat
in another car.
A young man with dark hair in dark clothes walks his white dog up and down the aisle
as well. Both man and dog look equally disheveled, and the man has a look of concern on
his face. I can’t quite place what the concern is for, but his dog seems to share it as well, if
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4/9/09 11:10 AM
dogs can feel such emotions. Eventually a woman in a grey sweater makes an appearance.
She has not been pacing the car, but appears to know right where her seat is: Across from
Kelsey where the old man and his daughter are sitting. I have my headphones in at this point
so I don’t hear the confrontation. In the end, the couple gets up and the woman sits down.
I feel bad for them at first, but it appears that she did them a favor. I look out my window
moments later to see them walking outside the train, down the stairs to a different platform.
Right seats, wrong train. I take one ear bud out to relay what I have seen to Ellen and Kelsey.
They laugh, and the two elderly Englishmen across from me and Ellen have a small chuckle as
well.
The exodus of this couple appears to
have freed up the seat for the man and his
dog. It is a window seat, so the woman
who has just sat down in the aisle seat
dutifully rises up to let the two through.
He moves in, and his dog sits at his legs
underneath the table. It will be a tight
squeeze when the man across from him
comes back from the bathroom.
Moments later, he does come back.
Kelsey gets up to let him in, and he appears to be slightly taken aback by the
dog. He covers most of his surprise, and if
he had any disdain for the situation, this
was covered even more thoroughly.
Our train finally departs with everyone
in our car seated, however uncomfortably. At the first stop however, it appears
that things still aren’t right. The young
Frenchmen next to Kelsey is replaced by a
middle-aged woman who has just boarded the train. He, in turn, claims the spot
photo by kati schmidt, germany
of the man and the dog who are once again
seat-less. Maybe that is what he was concerned about. He stands next to the bathroom with
his dog for the remainder of his time on the train
As we depart from this station, I look out the window on the side of the train opposite
me. The Mediterranean Sea sparkles white and blue under a low morning sun and cloudless
sky. Yesterday, the sea was grey, taking back the water it had leased to the sky days or weeks
earlier.
Martine, the French woman who ran our hostel in Nice, was very apologetic about the
weather. She felt inclined to rationalize it to us in the same tone that she rationalized the eccentric behavior of her three-year-old granddaughter whom she was caring for.
“This is not normal. Here, it is sunny. We swim until the 18th of November.”
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17
What is winter, anyway?
4/8/09 12:11 PM
Lo
C
I
w
—
B
L
“
S
T
d
C
L
S
“
B
a
M
L
pho
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Lost in Katutura*
By John Linstrom, Namibia
Christina Kandjii driving,
A white black church at night is gray
I am backseat riding,
and scrubs my sooty spirit away.
watching the morning star.
“Read that sign,” in moonlit night:
—She makes a wish, Starlight!
United Assembly of God.
(roughshod)
firefight—
But fiery beacons point nowhere,
A holy place, drowns in space.
Lost in Katutura.
Lost in Katutura.
“Pass another fruit snack, Mac.”
The steering leather, illumined clock—
Shadow gangs shift in the dark.
metallic motion hurtles down
Tripping headlights blaze a trail;
for bloody eyes to follow.
discern a shoeless child: Christine, watch out!— You’re dreaming now – “We’re almost there.”
dead stare—
young gout.
Celestial questions leap and chase,
Could street hockey children ever care,
Lost in Katutura.
Lost in Katutura?
Streets will bend and trees will sway;
The shebeen sings loud and dark;
“Keeps the evil spirits away.”
paychecks exchanged for harder stuff.
But raving dogs still jump and bark
You need the work, and cops don’t care.
and smell that we are lost.
“Where’s my coffee?” queries Morning Star.
—exhaust
Massive dogs with jet black hair.
Lost in Katutura.
—black light—
—white flight—
Local faces grin and stare,
Lost in Katutura.
* Katutura is a township of Windhoek, Namibia. It was
created when the black population within the city of
Windhoek was forced to leave in 1961.
photos by megan lee (large, 1, 3)
liz coyne (2), namibia
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Journal Excerpts - Glimpses into Lives Abroad
24/10, Sevilla, Spain (and back); Jon Becker
We got very lost on the way to the train station. We were trying to follow a small map, which really
didn’t have the train station on it. Kelsey, who knows a bit of spanish, attempted to ask a man where the train
station was. We could not understand
his response, but we went in the direction that he pointed. We arrived, out
of breath, at the train station about
10 minutes after talking to this man.
Upon arriving, we activated our EurRail passes, booked trains to and from
Sevilla, and got on the right train...
photo by ellen orner, czech republic
October 20: The Lion King, Lived; Megan Lee
It was a quick drive to Etosha, Namibia’s in-
famous game viewing park - its said that the park
is as big as the Netherlands (I always forget that
Namibia is huge - the coast is equidistant as from
Florida to New York!) On the drive in to our
campground alone, we saw zebras, elephants,
giraffes, and various other deer-like antelope-ish
things. I was so excited to see the animals... and
took an incalculable (yet somehow necessary)
amount of pictures, while singing songs from the
Lion King (appropriate). I found it funny that upon
my first zebra sighting I (true to form) took an
excess amount of photos just in case we didn’t
come across anymore... but by the end of the trip,
the zebras were like squirrels at valpoeverywhere!
photo by liz coyne, namibia 94690_VU_VIA09.indd 20
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blic
Day 6: Bluefields, Nicaragua; Jennifer Halbert
photo by jennifer halbert,
nicaragua
While I grade their homework, the students
continue to bring me stickers and giggle as they run back to their chairs... I began teaching them a few songs in English
and they taught me the Spanish version. It
was good bi-lingual fun. During the other
class I teach, 4th grade, I think the children
enjoyed my different style of teaching and
playing games to make the English lesson
more interactive. Whenever I taught them
something new, they were so eager to learn. Afterwards, many came
up to me wanting to learn even more new English words…
28/10 - 30/10, Nice, France; Jon Becker
In Montpellier, for the hour we were
there, I ventured out into the city
to try to find something tasty to eat. I
found a place which served a sandwich
called “The American,” and ordered
without hesitation. It turned out to be a
cheeseburger on a baguette with fries as a
part of the sandwich. American indeed.
2/11 - 4/11, Florence, Italy; Jon Becker
Our final planned stop of the day was to go to Galleria dell’
Accademia to see Michelangelo’s David. This was the most
impressive piece of artwork that I saw in my entire time in
Europe. I drew a quick sketch of it.
21
art by jon becker, italy
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 21
4/8/09 12:11 PM
Dinner with
a Chinese Family
By Megan Lee, China
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 22
4/9/09 11:22 AM
a
After
a summer of reviewing hundreds of Chinese flash cards, counting from
to
and then to again, and learning the ins and outs
, too expensive!), Rahj,
of bargaining at the local silk market (
James, and my’s language class culminated in a trip to our teacher’s
home. The 4 other members of her family- her
mother, father, husband, and 3 year old daughter,
, (fruit fruit) lived in a small apartment
a bus ride away from downtown, like many
city folk. Together, the 8 of us made traditional
(dumplings) from scratch. Making the
perfect dumpling shell is a talent I never quite
mastered;
(Grandpa) did his best to show
me, but we would just laugh at my failed attempts. Although the older generation did not
speak any English, we found ways to communicate through smiles, hands on interaction, and
a patience that transcends language boundaries.
Over dinner, I realized that my Chinese skills
were about the equivalent’s of the 3 year old;
we had an in depth, 4 sentence chat on liking
(Coca Cola). My tutor joked that her
tastes lent her to practically being an American.
It was a lot of work, but it was rewarding working alongside people of another culture (and
not only because we had a delicious meal to
share together afterwards). Many hugs and
(thank you’s) were exchanged before we said
our good byes; the family holds a beautiful
and long lasting impact on my heart.
(love)
photos by james strasburg, china
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 23
23
4/9/09 11:22 AM
Historically White, By John Linstrom, Namibia
I am sitting at a desk, typing at my own laptop, sending information through the air via the magic of wireless technology,
enjoying the faint afterscent of Aussie shampoo and the feel of my soft organic cotton T-shirt (made in the USA, sweatshop free).
This is Windhoek West, pointed out on the orientation tour as the “historically white neighborhood.” It seems apt – I am historically white, after all.
Apt – unfortunately apt. Eight hours ago we drove through the informal settlements. Squatting tin boxes leaned loosely
against empty air, rocky hills rolled to dramatic horizons, open landscapes clashed into cluttered roadways, pots and chair frames
and tires and a baby stroller littered corrugated rooftops, mothers and grandmothers and aunts sat in shady spaces or busied themselves with repeated morning litanies while their children raced the dirt tracks to their day’s self-appointed destiny, unemployed
fathers paced or chatted or drank, and a couple kombi buses full of foreigners rattled through the packed lifescape. Surely, I imagined, surely with only a few days of living here I would be able to write a fiction story about life in the settlements. Surely, just to
step into a house, to speak with a mother, I would get the experience.…
Apt – annoyingly apt. Consider any Monday that I take a taxi at 1:30 to return home from volunteering in Katutura.
Windhoek West, near the Cardboard Box, I tell the driver through his window. “Ah,” he says. “Yes.” That “ah,” that too easily
sliding “ah,” that supremely presumptuous “ah” – do I look like a guy who hangs out at a backpacker hostel’s bar? Didn’t I say
near, not at? But he knows and I know that I actually am the backpacking type. Next week I’ll just ask to be dropped off at the
Polytechnic. I can walk.
Apt – too truly apt. Sitting between steady walls, flushing good toilets, eating colorful food: I am home. And it is all too
historically apt.
*
*
*
Every school day I do the same thing. I open my eyes and look at the plain roof above me. I clothe myself.
I walk to the corner to meet Bredley. Then we walk to school, simple as that.
One day we were walking and we were almost hit by a big kombi full of white people. The driver was black,
and he honked but he did not slow down much. One of the girls in the kombi waved at me. She had blonde hair
and a bright green shirt with no sleeves, and she smiled at me with the biggest smile I had ever seen. I waved back.
I hope she did not see me smiling so big. Bredley cursed.
“You know, sometimes they just drive through Katutura to see us,” he said. I did not understand. “You
know, to say, ‘Look, there’s a skinny black person,’ or ‘Look, there’s a little house.’ Like we’re elephants or something.” Then for a minute we did not say anything, and then Bredley added, “That’s what my dad said, too.”
“They’re nice people, Jacob. One of them waved at me.”
“You never know.”
“She smiled at me.”
“Yeah,” Jacob said, “like she would smile at an elephant too.”
We got to school and it was like any day again. It was hot.
Daniel and Attan ran and chased, and they fell in the dirt before assembly started. I went to the fountain for a drink.
The bell rang. We assembled under the blue and white shades which you can see through. We sang the national
anthem, Ms. Jacobs gave the Bible lesson, and we sang the school song and two more songs. Principal Awaseb said
something about stealing and Mr. Kapuenene said something else. Then an upper primary teacher came to the principal with a note. That is when we heard the news, that there was an accident. Menencia Bowe was hit by a tour
bus on her way to school that morning. We might not see her in class for awhile, the principal said.
Then we walked in our queues to second period. I saw Daniel and Attan run ahead, but Attan was grabbing Daniel
because Daniel was faster, so Mr. Kapuenene hit them even though he is not allowed to. So they fell in the dirt again,
and we went to class.
*
*
*
Entering Maponya Mall seemed as ordinary as any other shopping experience. The high ceiling, the broad panes of
glass over the wide displays, the mindless mannequins sporting colorful shorts and plastic midriffs, and the nondescript background
music all reminded me of back-to-school shopping and gift hunting.
So when a colleague leaned into my ear and said, “Wow, weird being in the minority, isn’t it?” I was a little surprised. And
suddenly self-conscious.
That’s what certain focuses do – they plant the poisonous seed of awareness which grows to let us know our nakedness.
Later, at the KFC in the food court, I felt strained just trying to communicate with the woman behind the counter, who seemed
to be entirely irritated with the fact that a white who spoke only English would be expecting service from her. Damn tourists, I
thought for her. Swedish shit.
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 24
4/8/09 12:12 PM
And I remembered working back home at the marina the day the Chinese
family came in. They were in the wrong place and were confused about where
they were going, but I treated them well when Cory was frustrated with them,
right? Maybe I’m not like that KFC worker; maybe I’m better.
And I remembered marching band camp, when Joel marched in front of
me. During practice once we marched down Kalamazoo Street, and Joel turned
around with his trombone in his armpit and said, “Where the fuck are we going?
I don’t want to get shot!” Birds chirped and kids played basketball in the park we
were marching past. “I’m serious, do you know how many people get shot in the
zone every year? Shit!” I knew he didn’t know, and I wanted to kick his trombone into his teeth.
But I remembered the high school cafeteria as well. I remembered the
table where I usually sat, and all the pale faces matching my plain bologna sandwich. I also remembered the tables which frightened me as I walked past them,
tables where I didn’t think I was welcome, and I remembered walking past
them and noticing no white people and wondering if such unintentionally racist
thoughts were forgivable, and if not, if there was any hope for me. The cafeteria
was the true litmus test of the community, where one could see it divided as it
was in town. It was where the City of South Haven’s true colors were literally
revealed – revealed and severed.
And I remembered, faintly, living in Jersey City. And I remembered it
without the detail which has since been given me by my parents’ retelling of our
story there, that we were the only whites in our Puerto Rican neighborhood. I
know that I, the neighborhood Gerber baby, was blessedly oblivious even when
we moved away in my fourth year.
And I wondered just why that ever changed, and who or what it was
that introduced the poisonous seed of judgment into my mind which destroyed
my young racial innocence and my ideological purity. Was it a teacher I had? A
friend? Or small town life in general? Or perhaps it was the status quo of a nation of people who were not yet at that time quite suffocating from the stresses of
postmodern isolationism and categorization.
If that poisonous seed had not been planted, if the roots of racial recognition had somehow never penetrated my soft mind, what would have been different? Would I have remained in contact with Antuann Langston after first grade
and continued our friendship? Would I have frequented the various high school
cafeteria tables more freely? Would this South African KFC woman somehow
sense the difference and speak more easily with me? Would I have actually been
less interested in a study abroad program in Namibia?
At least two things would not have changed. I would have still been
raised in a house benefitting from a legacy of white privilege. And the people of
the informal settlements and of historically black neighborhoods would still see
the same pale Scandinavian emerge from the kombi to check out the craft market.
I would still remain caught in my unchosen identity. I would still be floating on the white foam of a social wave. I would still experience moments when
I would wish I were someone else, even just for the sake of fitting into whatever
context was convenient or desirable in that instant.
photos by 1, 3 megan mankerian, haiti
2, 4 megan lee, namibia
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 25
I would still be, inescapably and inexorably aptly, historically white.
25
4/8/09 12:12 PM
International Opportunities On Campus
LANGUAGE CLUBS
STUDENT GROUPS -- for more info, contact...
Asian American Association -- [email protected]
Cercle français [email protected]
Black Student Organization -- [email protected]
Chinese Student Association -- [email protected]
El Club De Español --
Engineers without Borders - [email protected]
InterLink -- [email protected]
German Club
Latinos in Valparaiso for Excellence -- [email protected]
Social Action Leadership Team -- [email protected]
Japanese Club --
Valpo International Student Association -- [email protected]
LIVING ARRANGEMENTS
[email protected]
[email protected]
[email protected]
NATIONAL HONORS SOCIETIES
Global Leaders Community -- [email protected]
Kade-Duesenberg German House -- [email protected]
La Maison Francaise -- [email protected]
The Spanish House -- [email protected]
Delta Phi Alpha -- German
Eta Sigma Phi -- Greek and Latin
Pi Delta Phi -- French
Sigma Delta Pi -- Spanish
SPECIAL GLOBAL STUDY PROGRAMS
Confucius Institute -- Offers programs promoting a friendly cultural exchange between the university and the country of China, including business, arts, and education; [email protected]
International Engineering Programs -- Offered in Germany, France, and China (Coming soon) 5 year program includes a year long internship abroad with an engineering firm
photo by kristen brown, india
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 26
4/8/09 12:12 PM
An Interview with International Students On Campus
What I wish people knew about my country...
Angela, Philippines -- There is extreme poverty and starvation, a lack of clean water and a good education system regardless that it is a democratic system.
Moiz, India -- India is not just a land of snake tremors and diseases. Not everyone in Kuwait owns an
oil well or lives in mud huts.
Sylvan, France -- We feel lucky to live where we live and don’t like to complain about it.
Ariun, Mongolia -- I wish people knew where Mongolia was on a map and understood that Mongolia
and China are completely different countries.
Christine, Germany -- Love to travel and are open to other cultures
Bet you didn’t know...
Husain, India (born in Kuwait) – in India we are not allowed to use calculators until grade 12
IES
Karan, India -- We don’t eat dinner until late, like after 9
man
Ariun, Mongolia -- amazing that there is fresh milk in U.S.
atin
nch
Christine, Germany -- There are speed limits in Germany; you cannot
drive as fast as you want on the Autobahn
nish
Moiz, India – parents give money with no expectation of repayment
e Angela, Philippines -- Every time we take an exam we have to pay for it.
Has being abroad changed your perspective on life?
Karan, India – I understand people better, I am more flexible towards them
Christine, Germany – I understand U.S. foreign policy better
Husain, India (born in Kuwait) – I can adjust to environments easier; I lost stereotypes and inhibitions;
I accepted the goodness in the world and became more optimistic.
photo by ashley roll, russia
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 27
photo by kristen brown, india
4/8/09 12:12 PM
Cap
By
8:0
ridg
last days
8:4
por
9:3
afte
10:
11:2
bur
wa
Auf Wiedersehen, Reutlingen
By James Strasburg, Germany
3:3
6:04 AM: Wake up and finish packing; forget to turn off heater
7:08 AM: Get on bus, accidentally break a bottle of wine
by james strasburg, belgium
8:15 AM: Stuck in morning traffic to Stuttgart
7:0
cre
9:30 AM: Finally arrive at airport, one hour before flight is
10:
scheduled to leave. Wait in super long line to check in.
7:4
10:15 AM: Arrive at security, only 15 minutes now until flight
leaves!
10:30 AM: Barely make flight to Paris.
12:30 PM: Navigate the perils of Charles de Gaulle Airport;
purchase a baguette; get on connecting flight to Chicago.
8:2
usin
9:0
in J
9:1
2:30 PM: After boarding and a two hour delay, flight departs
for home.
7:30 PM: Finally land, although in the midst of a giant snow
storm;
9:2
flyi
tim
3:0
discover that all evening flights out of Chicago are canceled.
10:30 PM: Wander O’Hare Airport and nab a makeshift cot
inside of Terminal A for the night.
4 AM: Wake up and check in for 6 AM flight to Detroit.
10 AM: Hug from mom and finally home.
art by kati schmidt, germany
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 28
4:3
4/8/09 12:12 PM
5:0
aw
Afr
Cape Town to Rochester, NY
By Bekki Robbins, South Africa
8:00 AM Eat breakfast of eggs, toast, warm milk, and porridge in the hostel
8:45 AM Last ride in Kombis (Volkswagen vans) to the airport
9:30 AM Sat by the gate with what was left of the group
after the first round of good byes
10:15 AM Flew from Cape Town to Johannesburg
11:20 AM Walked to the departure gate; small hysterical outbursts occasionally happening amongst group members not
wanting to go home. I fell asleep on the floor for an hour.
3:30 PM Departed from South African soil into the air
4:30 PM Watched a sappy, free movie
7:00 PM Ate airline dinner and drank Amarula (a sweet,
creamy South African beverage) then journaled––
10:30 PM Stop over in Dakar, Senegal.
by rachel dahlgren, south africa
7:45 AM Landed in Dulles after changing a few time zones
8:20 AM Called my parents for the first time in two months
using my cell phone for the first time in four months
9:00 AM Went to get luggage and found out that it was still
in Jo-burg
9:15 AM Said teary goodbyes to the rest of the group
9:20 AM Sat by my new departure gate with other Americans
flying to New York; realized I smelled terrible and was five
times tanner than everyone else.
3:00 PM Landed in Rochester, found my family, went home
5:00 PM Went on a walk behind my house to keep me
awake. Our paths crossed with the Rochester Zoo and I saw
African Elephants!
by rachel dahlgren, south africa
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 29
4/8/09 12:12 PM
think
explore this beautiful
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 30
BIG
world
4/8/09 12:12 PM
Here’s to the crazy ones.
The misfits.
The rebels.
The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes.
The ones who see
things differently.
They’re not fond of rules.
And they have no respect
for the status quo. You can praise them, disagree with them, quote them, disbelieve
them, glorify or vilify them.
About the only thing you can’t do is ignore them.
Because they change things.
They invent. They imagine. They heal.
They explore. They create. They inspire.
They push the human race forward.
Maybe they have to be crazy.
And while some see them as the crazy ones,
we see genius.
Because the people who are crazy
enough to think they can change the
world, are the ones who do.
-- Think Different
(Apple Computer Ad Campaign)
www.vladstudio.com
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 31
4/8/09 12:12 PM
thank you to our sponsors
College of Arts and Sciences
College of Business
College of Engineering
Department of History
Department of International Service
Department of Foreign Languages
Kade-Duesenberg Cultural Center
Master of Chinese Studies
Office of Residential Life
Office of International Programs
94690_VU_VIA09.indd 32
Liz Coyne, Editor
Megan Lee, Editor
Thank you!
Abby Lange, Melissa Ford,
Kati Schmidt, James Strasburg, Alena Engstrom, Kerstin
Kost, Jon Becker, VISA Students,
and Pastor Jim Wetzstein.
cover photo by brittni emery, mexico
back page photo by rachel heinrich, italy
4/8/09 12:12 PM