By Ria Capone – AmeriSpan Staff
In fall of 2005 I found myself at the Narita Airport in Japan. Sometimes I wonder how it is that I got there. Well, I know how I “physically” got there. I got there by enduring a sixteen-hour plane ride where I seemed to be the only passenger who couldn't fall asleep. I remember looking around and observing the old Japanese men gently snoring with their shoes off. I remember the group of teenagers to the right dressed in outrageous fashions with their headphones blasting pop music. I remember Ai, the girl who sat next to me and said that the kanji of her name meant indigo blue. She had just studied English in Texas and casually joked about how unhealthy American food was. I was lucky that I had met her for as soon as I got off the plane I was overwhelmed by the chaos of the airport. Yet, this chaos was different. Perhaps it is hard to explain but it was organized; organized chaos. There were so many people and so many different things going on yet the atmosphere appeared in order. I like to compare this chaos to a beehive or an ant colony where everything is working harmoniously together.
In no way do I mean to compare Japanese culture to the habitat of insects but it is this rhythm of life in metropolitan Tokyo that I believe makes it distinct from any other big city. I witnessed the same organized chaos in the districts of Shibuya, Shinjuku, Harajuku and Ginza. It was exciting to be immersed in the busy patterned movements of people. Half the time I thought that everything was staged, that I was in some movie and all those moving around me were just extras. Maybe I was in something similar to the Truman Show, that movie with Jim Carey where everything around him is staged and aired on national television, all while he has no idea. Alright, I realize that is a stretch but rest assured when you go to Tokyo, and you step off that plane you'll feel like you are in another world and you may continue to feel that way right until you are about to leave.
I was fortunate to live in Tokyo for four months. I resided in a student apartment on what I believe was the “outskirts” of Tokyo in Jiyugaoka. This area is referred to as the “Bellaire” of Tokyo for all the fancy houses and cars that line the tiny streets. I never met any of my neighbors for the area was quiet and serene. I suppose the closest encounter I had with them was when I would spot them peeking through their window curtains. At first I found this quite odd. Why would they not reveal themselves or stand on their porch to greet me and the other students that lived there? I was later informed by my resident advisor, Kota, that we were being “too loud” as the residents were not used to people congregating on stoops to just hang out. The only sound I would hear, other than the voices of the students I lived with, was this loud, melancholy recording of a man singing about something. It belonged to what we referred to as the "yam man" who was an older man driving a rickety truck with crates filled of cooked yams by our apartment everyday. I forget the exact price they were but those yams were cheap and delicious.
I'm honestly not quite sure why I felt it important to write about the yams. It seems to be this constant memory I'll never forget, similar to the produce stand near my house where some mystery neighbor or farmer would leave fresh produce out. The amazing thing about this was that next to the produce were prices and a small box for yen. I walked by this stand 3 or 4 times a day and found produce missing and the box full of yen just sitting there! You could never do something like that in the states. Japan definitely nourishes some unspoken honor system. Rarely does on hear about theft or other acts of crime. Someone once told me the most commonly stolen object in Japan is umbrellas.
I also feel that is important to mention my experience with Tokyoites and all other Japanese people who I'd encountered. At first I found my place within the city, or society, to be insignificant for there are far too many people that tread the sidewalks day in and day out. I felt like a number and not a name. I noticed that no one seemed to make eye contact or acknowledge that I was among them, or that I existed. This is a bit challenging for me to express. It's not that I felt I should be given some special privilege or placed on a pedestal because I was a gaijin. It is that I found myself alone at first, deep in thought as to what I was doing in Tokyo. I don't believe I have ever thought that much to myself before. I initially believed that many Japanese would know English and that I would hear it openly, flowing through the streets because of their fascination with American culture. Sure this might be the case for places like Roppongi, but elsewhere I was surrounded by conversation I couldn't understand. Since I was taking courses in English at a University I paid little attention to learning Japanese, setting my Japanese homework aside to focus on bigger school projects and essays. And there I was walking the streets of Tokyo as a 20 year old, this big dream I had always had was now true. Something was just missing and at first I thought I was homesick, that I couldn't handle being in a foreign country. After a few more weeks, I realized that these feelings I harbored were inaccurate, that I was merely misinterpreting those that surrounded me.
I had come to find, throughout my stay, that many of the Japanese people I met, or those that studied at the same school as me were just shy. Some were nervous about using their English and others felt it inappropriate to approach strangers for they are respectful of people's privacy. Also, as the months wore on, I met several Japanese people, at school, while at cafes, at the grocery store, all of which were extremely friendly and helpful guides showing me their favorite spots. I have several stories of wonderful nights I spent in Tokyo which involve meeting Japanese people. Because this excerpt is getting quite long and if you're still reading your eyes are most likely tired… I'll mention just one:
Another American student and I decided to venture through Jiyugaoka one Saturday to see what cool places we could find. We stumbled across this tiny building with the sign “Jazz Café” outside. After climbing down several steps we entered a small room that consisted of a bar, the bartender (obviously), a goldfish, and a Japanese couple. A bit underwhelmed with the atmosphere and the fact we were expecting live jazz music, we headed for the exit. As soon as we turned around the couple started calling to us in Japanese and patted the seats next to them; they wanted us to stay. They immediately ordered us drinks from the bar and tried to converse with us in broken English. Since none of us understood each other's native language, we spent most the night pantomiming and teaching each other “slang” phrases and words. They also enjoyed telling us what American movie stars we resembled. Apparently my friend was Kevin Bacon and I was Meg Ryan (we don't look anything like them!) After a while the bartender joined in and there we were, the 5 of us, sitting in a small jazz cafe with no jazz on a Saturday night. All of a sudden the bartender jumped up from his seat and said something excitedly in Japanese. Kevin Bacon exchanged confused glances with me. The lights started to dim and a television is lowered slightly from the ceiling. And that's when we hear the opening “Dun Dun..Dun dun dun da..” of Jon Bon Jovi's song “It's My Life” followed by Jon Bon Jovi strutting across the television screen (I apologize if that's not the title as I am not a particular fan of him.) It was truly hilarious because Kevin Bacon and I came to the conclusion that the bartender assumed we were huge Bon Jovi fans because we were from America. Out of courtesy we sat there and watched the next couple of songs…
In sum, Tokyo was incredible; I'd even say it was life changing. I will never forget my time spent there and I eagerly a wait when I can go back. Because… where else would I be able to hang out with complete strangers, in a tiny jazz cafe with no jazz, pantomiming why I am there, being compared to an actress I look nothing like, all while grooving out to Mr. Jon Bon Jovi? Only in Japan, I promise..

By Mike Schaller – AmeriSpan Staff
I wanted to study abroad because I had never been outside of the States and a semester in Spain cost the same as a semester in State College, PA. Seemed like a no-brainer. I knew it'd be fun, but I had NO idea what was really in store. I traveled with 3 of my closest college buddies and I thought I was the “Spanish expert” of the group because I had a couple semesters of college Spanish under my belt. I was in for a surprise when we showed up at the shuttle from the airport in Madrid to the Ave (the high speed train that would take us to Sevilla). I could form a sentence to ask where to go, but had no idea what the woman was saying when she replied in ultra-fast Spanish.
Lesson 1- there IS a degree of shock when you arrive in a place that doesn't speak your language- embrace it, it'll go away.
So we made it to Sevilla and found our way to our host family. It was a little difficult at first trying to get to know each other. The only one that spoke English was the 16 year old daughter and her English was about as good as my Spanish. We were anxious to explore so we hit the local tapas place and felt like we were on top of the world. We cheers'd over our first drink together and it was sweet!
School started, and we started to get into the Spanish way of life.
Lesson 2- SIESTA = AWESOME!
Every day at 2PM we'd come home for a big lunch with our host family, then crawl into bed and sleep for 2 hours. There wasn't much choice, literally everything, and I mean everything shuts down from around 2-5 in the afternoon. No groceries, no bars, no movies, just naptime. It's genius. Sometimes we'd spend the Siesta by the river where there was a vendor selling “Tinto de Verano” (kind of like Sangria). We'd pay 5 euros for a liter and bask in the glorious sun like kings. I can guarantee you our friends back at Penn State were not doing this in February!
There are too many stories to tell in one blog but I'd like to highlight the most memorable one:
One Saturday night, our homestay brother, Gabi, told us to get dressed up ‘cause he was taking us out for a night of REAL Sevilla. Don't get me wrong, we partied Spanish style all semester (botellon, late-night discoteca, tapas, etc.) but this night would be different.
We showed up at this plush club hidden in this little cove by the water and everyone was decked out. All the females were wearing traditional Flamenco dresses and all the gentlemen were wearing suits. We got inside and there was an incredible band playing music I had never heard. It was local Flamenco music, and it was awesome. Everyone knew how to dance, and dance with style, Flamenco style. We each found ourselves a lady to teach us the moves, and we were right in the mix. I looked around from time to time and thought I was in a movie. Ridiculous. Absolutely a dream! All of a sudden at midnight the band stopped and all the lights went out in the club. Everyone moved towards one side of the room and a bunch of people lit candles. There was a statue of the Virgin Mary called El Rocio. Everyone sang this song in a loud, boisterous voice and then blew the candles out. The lights came back on, the band started up, and the crowd went nuts! I was shell-shocked. Were we just part of some religious ceremony on a Saturday night in the middle Sevilla? Yes! That certainly never happened in Central Pennsylvania. That night will go down, without a doubt, as one of the best nights of my life.
Lesson 3: A host family can take you places and show you things you have no chance of finding on your own. Take advantage of it!
By the end of my 15 weeks in Spain I was thinking and dreaming in Spanish. I was having deep conversations with Spanish women, in Spanish. Seriously? That woman at the airport shuttle should see me now! Please, please, please, please, if you're reading this and are tossing around the idea of spending some time abroad- DO IT! And do it right. Get into the culture and take it all in. You're about to change your life!

By Donna Van Buren – AmeriSpan Staff

Busy, peaceful, chaotic, serene, energized, playful, relaxed, modern, traditional, and …
These are all words I used in postcards sent to family and friends on my visit to Hong Kong. This was my 1st adventure in Asia and it was a good choice. Without a guidebook, or even an itinerary, my friend and I didn't know what to expect of Hong Kong. We only knew that we would be going to the Hong Kong Disneyworld, which had opened just weeks before our arrival. Upon landing, we grabbed the free tourist brochure in the airport and found more to do than we had time for.
From the minute you arrive, you can see that Hong Kong has an excellent transportation system, linking all the main islands. From the airport, it's a matter of minutes before you arrive in the center of the most popular islands, Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. My friend and I also found a free shuttle bus to our hotel when we got off. There are links off the main subways lines to special attractions too. You can quickly arrive at the new Skyrail station to zip over to Lantau Island. There is even a special line for Hong Kong Disney. The windows and hand straps of the train are shaped like Mickey Mouse! And don't forget to make time to take the special Peak Tram up to the top of Victoria Peak for a spectacular aerial view of Hong Kong.
The busy, chaotic, modern, and energized Hong Kong is visible almost everywhere, but can mostly be seen when shopping in one of the many markets around the islands. Kowloon Island is filled with markets, both day and night. The Temple Street Night Market is packed with sellers hawking traditional Asian crafts, while Nathan Road is bustling with flashy shops showcasing trendy items. And when in Kowloon at night, make sure to stop by Victoria Harbour. Stroll down the Avenue of Stars and find your favorite Asian celebrity on this walk-of-fame while you watch the Symphony of Lights show illuminates the high-rise buildings of Victoria Harbour. My friend and I liked the show so much we went back every night.
When my friend and I were tired of the lively city life, we headed out to Lantau Island. There you find the more relaxing, peaceful, and traditional Hong Kong. The Giant Buddha statue on Lantau is the most visible attraction there. Being the largest outdoor Buddha in the world, he can be seen from almost anywhere. It is also possible to venture up more than 250 steps to the top of the Buddha for a view of the calming Po Lin Monastery below. My friend and I followed a trail marked ‘Wisdom Path' and found ourselves in a field contemplating the wood pillars in front of us, placed to form an infinity ring.
There are a lot of components that make modern day Hong Kong tick. These were my favorite discoveries on this diverse group of islands, where the modern connivances of the world meet traditional Asia.

By Donna Van Buren – AmeriSpan Staff
Having spent 2 years living in Thailand, I feel cliché in referring to Thailand with the sometimes overused marketing phrase ‘The Land of Smiles;' but truth be told, there is no better way to describe Thailand and its people.
So you may not speak the same language, (at least not yet!) but Thai people will tell you the answer to any question or help you find your way if lost. They will smile and laugh ‘farang' meaning ‘foreigner,' as you walk by. Don't worry, they mean no disrespect and you did nothing to disrespect them. Your taxi driver will smile wide after going the wrong way and say ‘no problem.'
Another time to smile in Thailand is when there's food around. It's true; Thailand has some of the best dishes in the world. The blending of spices; revolving around combinations of sweet, sour, hot, and very hot, is what makes their food spectacular. Simple ingredients magically transform into flavorful and exotic bites. My favorite part was the freshness of Thai food. Dishes are always made for you right on the spot, with fresh vegetables probably picked earlier that morning. When in Thailand, I recommend you try the ‘som tom' or spicy papaya salad mixed with tomatoes, peanuts, shrimp, and of course tons of Thai chilies. This northeastern dish is perfect when eaten with a handful of sticky rice. “Aroy mak!!” Say this to your Thai cook and you are sure to get a smile.
Big smiles are also received with mention of Thailand's king and national hero, HM King Bhumibol Adulyadej, or Rama IX. Thai people adore him and the evidence can be seen everywhere. Posters and banners line the streets. Taxis are adorned with photos of the Royal Family. The Royal Anthem is played twice daily on the radio, before all public events, and at the movies. Since celebrating his 60th year on the throne in 2006 and his 80th birthday in 2007, their love for him has become even more evident. Every Monday, the day of his birth, Thai people wear yellow to show love, honor, and respect to their King. At my job, we wore yellow on Mondays and Fridays. We really loved the King.
The biggest smiles in Thailand can be found during April's ‘Songkran' Festival, the Thai New Year celebration. It's a holiday to celebrate the passing of the old and the coming of the new. Celebrations can be described as nothing short of chaotic, spirited, religious, and mostly wet. Beyond the religious importance, Songkran is about water fights. Ask any Thai person and they will tell that Chiang Mai is the place to be to play Songkran. There, with the perfectly placed city moat, water is readily available. Adults and kids alike join forces to soak the town. Using water guns, buckets, coolers, trashcans, and anything that will hold water; everyone tosses water on passersby to help them ‘wash away their bad luck.'
Thailand and its people know the true meaning of the smile. They share theirs with everyone and on every occasion.