Study Abroad 101: The art of going with the flow by Heather Farr

I packed a lot of unnecessary things for my trip to Zambia. Fanny pack? Not sure how I talked myself into that one (probably because it was pink…) FOUR books? Admirable, but when planes rock you to sleep like a baby, four books will only help you out if you use them as a footstool. One thing I wholeheartedly believe you cannot go abroad without, however, is an open mind. If you can’t roll with the punches, you will leave the country with more regrets than useless souvenirs.

 I’m no expert on how to keep your cool, but my time in Zambia has solidified some ideas I’ve had about the art of going with the flow while abroad. 

1. Check your expectations at the door

If I’ve learned anything from studying abroad, it is that you can unconsciously write things into another country’s culture. Example: before coming to Africa, I assumed that every bug on the continent was big enough to eat me alive. With that in mind, I saw bugs everywhere I went the first few days of the trip. Why? Because I was looking for them. In reality, Africa’s insect life is likely no more active than that of Ohio in the summer, but I expected bug armies, so bug armies is what I got.

 Good or bad, previously held expectations or assumptions only get in the way of the ability to see an accurate picture of a country. Don’t dwell on previous descriptions or stories of your destination abroad, make your own.

2. Be a yes man

 When traveling abroad, I like to challenge myself by answering “why not?” to almost every challenge. Unless you honestly believe that the answer to “why not?” in a particular situation is “I will die,” go for it. If I said no every time I felt a wee bit uneasy about something, I wouldn’t be able to say that I’ve snorkeled in the South China Sea in Vietnam or ate a caterpillar and jumped off one of the world’s largest bungee jumps in between Zambia and Zimbabwe. In Zambia, the “yes” attitude left me with no regrets (and no naps) and plenty of memories I wouldn’t trade for the world.

3. Being particular is a luxury

I understand having preferences, especially when it comes to food. My dad shakes his head every time I order at a restaurant and ask for a number four, hold this, add that, light on this. If I have choices, I am going to ask for what I want, but this really is a luxury. In another country, not only might a communication barrier deter you from getting something just as you like it, but also, other options may not be available.

 

We visited a compound last week where widows and orphans of AIDS victims go to learn profit-producing skills and seek shelter. Once a day, the compound provides the group with a meal of nshima (a corn meal compound) and a mixture similar to canned chicken. With this is mind, a little mayo or a lumpy pillow doesn’t seem like such a tragedy.

4. If they can do it, so can you

When in Rome! No toilet paper in the bathroom? They get along just fine without it and so will you. Dipping your hands in a bowl of water after eating rather than using a napkin? Maybe not what you’re use to, but it gets the job done for them just fine. You visit another country to experience life different from your own. It is overwhelming at times, but I find comfort in knowing that the locals do [insert common foreign practice] frequently and live to tell the tale.

5. You’re not in Kansas anymore

The quicker you realize that your destination abroad is not, in fact, the United States, the better. It’s normal to compare aspects of another country to those of the US – it’s human nature to size things up based on what we’re use to – but don’t get caught up in the idea that other countries are doing everything the “wrong” way. Expect the unexpected and embrace it. I’m not saying you’ll come home and start using chopsticks, but you might just pick up a new habit, skill or favorite food.

Reporting Live from Lusaka… By Jenna Miller

It’s definitely safe to say internships in Africa aren’t just about getting coffee and making copies.  During my trip to Zambia, I will be interning with MUVI Television in Lusaka twice a week.  MUVI TV is Zambia’s only privately owned television news station and serves as one of the few government “watchdogs.”

I’ve already spent my first week with MUVI and it’s been one helluva ride. On my first day, MUVI was covering one of the biggest government scandals to hit Zambia.  Former Labor and Social Services Minister Austin Liato apparently buried 2.1 billion kwacha (approx. 410,000 USD) in concrete underneath his house.  Someone tipped the police off and the Zambian media (including me!) waited the ENTIRE day for Liato to turn himself in.  And when I say the entire day, I mean I sat inside of a car from 9 am until 5 pm outside of Liato’s house. Liato was suppose to show up to his house to be interrogated by police between 9 and 10 o’clock but kept us all waiting…on the side of the road…in the hot African sun…for eight hours.  The media weren’t allowed inside his gated house and the only thing happening was Liato turning himself in – no interviews or anything.  So what exactly were we the media waiting eight hours for? Just a shot of him walking into and out of the house.

Needless to say, my first internship day wasn’t the most exciting but I found it fascinating that the media waited that long just for a shot of Liato walking into his home.  And every news organization had multiple people there – whereas in the U.S. a station might send one cameraman, if any, for that two-second shot. I also found it interesting how nice and cooperative the reporters were towards each other.  It’s a dog eat dog world between news outlets in the U.S. but in Zambia reporters actually help each other out.  If a reporter from The Daily Mail gets a tip, he or she will call a friend at MUVI to let them know.  And as we were waiting throughout the day for Liato, the reporters joked around with one another (many of them are close friends just working for different stations) and someone would go on a food/drink run for the whole media gang.  It’s anything but the hostile environment you might find at a press gathering in the States.

My second day at MUVI delivered a little more action.  I rode out in the field with two reporters and two cameramen who alternated each story we covered.  We went from a press conference at the United States embassy to Zambian government workers protesting wages to a dump site being shut down to a man whose son took his home away from him.  It was a lot of driving time but I probably saw more of Lusaka in those 6 hours than I will see the rest of this trip.  I went from standing on U.S. soil in an air-conditioned building to being engulfed in flies, garbage, and the odor of a dumping wasteland.  I saw every aspect of life there was to see in Lusaka from privileged government officials to people picking through trash to survive.

I feel extremely lucky to be doing what I’m doing in Zambia – how many people can say they’ve walked the neighborhoods of an African city and actually talked to the people and really listened to their stories? And if that weren’t enough, MUVI TV has already aired one of my stories on its evening news.

I can’t wait to see what the next few weeks will bring and I know as long as I’m with MUVI that I’m bound to uncover a part of Africa I didn’t know existed.

From Vietnam to Zambia by Heather Farr

I like to pretend I’m a world traveler. I will even go as far as listing “traveling” as one of my hobbies in a bio or two. In reality, my life as a traveler has only just begun – I’ve only been to three countries other than my own, and one trip was to Mexico for spring break and not exactly what I would classify as a “cultural experience.” My two mentionable trips, however, haven’t been to your traditional “travel destinations” – Zambia and Vietnam are both developing nations. Although I’ve only been in Zambia for two days, I am already seeing many similarities between the African country and Vietnam.

The traffic. I thought rush hour in Chicago was scary, but this makes windy city traffic look like a walk through Millennium Park. In Vietnam, it was motorbikes darting in and out of each other, with no apparent traffic pattern in site. In Zambia, it’s cars and buses, with little regard to people and bikers, much less other cars.

The “traditional dish.” If foreign students came to America and wanted to eat “traditional American food,” I would apprehensively direct them to the nearest pizza place or hotdog and burger joint. In both Nha Trang, Vietnam and Lusaka, Zambia, the students proudly proclaim that their “traditional” dish is pho or nshimi (respectively). One is a soup-like dish with all the sauces, spices and vegetables you can fit and the other is made out of corn meal, eaten with your hands and dipped into sauce or soup. Although I ate nshimi for the first time today, I hear that I will be experiencing it again…. And again and again.

The minority feeling. One of the most eye-opening things about studying abroad is instantly becoming a minority in the city in which you are staying. I felt this full force two separate times today. This morning, several Zambian students walked the 18 of us around the campus. As soon as we stepped foot in the courtyard of the male dorms – dubbed “The Ruins” – we were instant celebrities. Students were hanging out of their windows, whistling, shouting, blowing horns and taking pictures. As soon as we had gotten over that experience, we were in the limelight again at the Lusaka market.

The small world feeling. Logistics, skin color, dialect, background, environment and all else aside, people are basically the same. Yesterday, we played soccer with a group of local students. Besides the fact that even the kids who “weren’t into foot ball” could have wiped the floor with us if they pleased, the students reminded me of my friends and roommates back home. One girl told me about how her father was trying to grasp the fact that she was mature and would soon be moving out while two other students argued over music artists. I’m not sure what I expected, but I didn’t expect to relate instantly and on such basic levels.

The appreciation. In Vietnam – and now in Zambia – I was fortunate enough to spend time with local students and see where they live, study, eat and work. The conditions are not ideal to say the least. Nonetheless, they are so incredibly appreciative of the fact that they are getting the opportunity to learn. When you see a tiny dorm room with eight people crammed in or a rat-invested market “food court,” your problems start to look like a tiny blip on the radar.