Desert and Wilderness

I got off the bus. One of my colleges noticed me. We were both in the Diplomatic Protocol course I’m taking in Polish this semester. She asked me how long I’d been learning the language. “About six years” I replied.

How much I’d changed since that time. Yet, my situation was similar.

Six years ago, I was a junior in high school. Many students prepare for university admissions during these months.  The stress is incredible. To gain acceptance at an elite U.S. university, you must be the star of your class. Now, I’m applying for summer internships during my first year of graduate school. I’ve done so much, but the standards are higher. You still have to get picked out of the pile. All you have is the audacity of hope. Your constant companion is the specter of failure.

 I pushed myself hard during my third year of high school. In class, I forced myself to study collage level chemistry, history and Spanish. I began learning Polish over the weekends. My mother left for 2 months during spring semester. It was her first trip to Maldives. While she was there, I shouldered many burdens at home. I cooked the meals, handled the shopping and just about everything else except my father’s wash and feeding the dogs.

During that time, my Polish teacher gave me a book. An English translation of Sienkiewicz’s 19^th century work ‘In Desert and in Wilderness.' It’s a nakedly nationalist work which details the account of a teenage Pole and his young British friend’s abduction. The tome recounted their self-deliverance from captivity. It lauded the children’s victorious return to their families as leaders of a sub-Saharan army. The shockingly humorous certainty of the story sustained me through that time.

That summer I went to Maldives. Working in the capital as a reporter was the best experience of my life. Still, the point was to get noticed on college applications.  I applied after my return. During the afterthought known as senior year. I thought the impossible happened when I got accepted to USC-Marshall. I’d made it.

But that wasn’t the end. I recently downloaded the same Sienkiewicz novel. Only this time in Polish. The story’s the same. It’s still a narrative of audacious purpose. Yet, it’s also a first encounter with matters of unquestioning devotion, resentment and fear of failure.

Tomorrow I’m due to take yet another standardized test. Hoping to get picked from the pile. It’s as if past risks and accomplishments never even happened. All that matters is the next trial of survival. Four internships and a bachelor’s degree later; I’m still reading the same book.

 At least books have an end. The Polish protagonist returned to his family atop an elephant.  During this time, Poland was erased from the world map. He made his credo what is today the Polish national anthem’s first line.

 And I am still waiting to begin my career in Europe.  Still applying for yet more internships. Striving to affirm my place in international society.

Until then, I shall wander in desert and wilderness. My dreams have not yet perished. I hope they shall not. As long as I live. 

To Teach Yourself

My professor was disappointed. Almost no one had done the required reading. Thus, class couldn’t proceed smoothly.  The professor proceeded to criticize us.  I felt as if the sheer power of my annoyance would launch me straight through the ceiling.  Last week the professor vaguely changed the one-page syllabus. He’d told us that no more readings were required. Apparently, his actual intent was to cancel the readings after this week’s class.  

This was not the only time I’ve experienced this feeling. Since starting studies at Uniwersytet Wroclawski, I’ve often felt frustrated with the instructors’ methods.      

I graduated magna cum laude from USC’s Marshall School of Business as a global scholar. Professors assigned readings there as well. One needed to do them in order to receive a high grade in the course. Class was related to the texts. Not dependent on them.  

The syllabus mediated any dispute. It was a contract between student and professor, often over ten pages in length. The document delineated the exact required readings and the date of the class they were due for.  If the course involved a presentation, the syllabus spelled out its exact expectations.  I’ve studied abroad in Europe before. The same was true.

We also make presentations for the same class in Wroclaw. Mine isn’t on a topic covered in class. The professor’s rubric is less clear.  You’re expected to discover the knowledge yourself.

I had to Google my assignment’s basic concepts.  As I did this, I couldn’t help but think that I’m paying 600-something euro per semester to this university. Google is free.

In Europe, students rarely buy books. Getting the readings involves some use of a photocopier. My faculty in Wroclaw has a ‘copy-point’ where professors leave their texts for students to Xerox. Recently, Polish class mates informed me of its unofficial importance. If a reading isn’t there, it doesn’t merit doing.

But, this rule is arbitrary. One of my professors is from Chisinau. She teaches a course on Russian politics. Her class consists of asking students about the readings.  At times, I feel like I’ve been dragged in front of the Moldovan inquisition. Once, she admonished me for not doing a rare reading in the library. The other students clearly hadn’t either. I told this to the Polish students. They were surprised, but attributed it to the fact that the professor is simply stricter in this course than in others they have with her.

Cultures and universities are intertwined. There exists a tacit code of expectation in both. You have to figure it out as you go along. Even when it’s frustrating for both parties.

Last week I made another presentation. I had trouble finding some readings for the topic.  The professor responded with a flippant email saying that they were listed as ‘paper’ in the syllabus, and were in the library. Before the presentation, I informed her that past readings with this designation were at the copy-point; she apologized. At the end of my presentation, she said that she was impressed with the original conclusions I’d drawn. “My Polish students just explain the information” she said.  

The Polish word for ‘learn’ translates literally as ‘to teach oneself’. This is reflected in the Polish didactic method. But maybe it goes both ways. There is much for each can discover from the other.  I must adjust to learning in the Polish sense, while continuing to transcend the text in my own way. 

Work and Play in Poland

It has been a while since I have had time to update this blog. After completing my internship in Romania, I traveled to Krakow for an intensive Polish language program at Jagiellonian University. Shortly after arrival there, our entire group was ushered into one of the university’s oldest lecture halls for the official inauguration of the program. As part of the opening festivities the U.S. Consul General addressed me and my peers.
“Let me tell you the Polish language is tough,” the consul warned us. He added that our curriculum was so intense, that between study, sleep, and fun, there were only enough hours in the day for us to “pick any two.” At the time I thought he was joking, but as I soon found out his words rang true.
My first wake up call came during the placement test, which was right after the inauguration. I already spoke a good amount of Polish and expected that I would be placed in one of the intermediate levels. So I was disappointed when the results came out, to find that I had been placed one of the beginning levels, along with many other non- native speakers, many of whom had taken four semesters of university level Polish in the US. Despite this, the subject matter on the first day of class confirmed suspicions that I had been placed too low. I began to attempt to move to a higher level. While at first my efforts met with little success, after two days I was finally granted grudging permission to move to the intermediate level.
My new level proved to be very challenging. In addition to this I decided to further test my abilities by enrolling in a college level course on Polish history, taught in Polish, which I finished with an A.
On the weekends I managed to have a life outside the course. I greatly enjoyed hiking in the Tatarskie mountains, and visiting my roommates’ families in the small town of Nowa Sarzynna. My weekend trip to Ukraine proved to me that while Poland’s neighbor is beautiful, it can also be somewhat dangerous. I narrowly avoided being ripped off by the local gangsters. The highlight of my trip was finally getting to meet my own Polish family in person. While the courses proved instructive, I have to say that I learned the most, simply visiting with my Polish friends and family.
The final day of the program was also my birthday. My friends and I prepared for a final night on the town before going our separate ways. That evening the management called one final meeting of the students in the Stolowka, the dining hall in the building where we stayed. It quickly became apparent the purpose of this meeting was to give out awards. I had only been grudgingly admitted into my level, and was not expecting much from this ceremony. So, I was shocked when I heard my name. The president of the program recognized me for the highest marks and outstanding achievement on the intermediate level.
I came to Poland already knowing that I had an affinity for its people and culture. My experiences this summer have strengthened my determination to return next summer to continue my studies in Krakow. I hope to combine this with a business internship in May and June. I am currently on an accelerated track to complete my business degree by June 2012 and then begin the adventure of graduate school or a job in Eastern Europe.