By We’re approaching two weeks on the road in Western Europe, but in many ways it feels like we’ve been doing this forever: setting up camp, cooking on gas stoves, fighting over electrical outlets to charge our iPods, and navigating strange cities by bus and foot. Some of you may be wondering what exactly happens here on these SSU study abroad terms. Our days begin early and are full to the brim with experience. We rise together, eat together, sleep within feet of one another in our tents, and, of course, adventure together. So far we have dipped our feet into two countries: Spain and France. Barcelona had us comparing Antoine Gaudi’s elaborate, albeit unfinished, Sagrada Familia in all its Art Nouveau charm, with the Barcelona Cathedral, towering over the city in all its strong gothic glory. Two places of worship, two very different experiences.
We have been moved, disgusted, and confused by the art of Dali and Picasso, and awestruck by the illustrious confidence and romance of the walled medieval city of Carcasonne. Some swam in the cool, refreshing water of the River Gard while simultaneously examining the Roman aqueduct (Pont du Gard) built in the first century; others have sipped espresso and practiced their French or Spanish in tiny cafés set on cobblestones streets. All of our experiences are collective, and yet they are all different; as individual and as far removed as the east from the west, yet shared within the context of an imperfectly beautiful travelling community.
And this is my joy. As a leader I get to hear thirty-two different views on each cultural, personal, and academic encounter; I get to wake up to the sound of laughter or singing in a nearby tent; I am there for the screams of horror as the girls find “squatty potties” in the French bathroom stalls in one moment, and in another have the privilege of sharing tears with a heartbroken, frustrated, homesick, or overwhelmed student. This isn’t even to mention the walks on the beach, conversations on the bus, games at the campground, prayers whispered together in tents, and the knowing looks and wordless exchanges that come with a shared secret, humorous anecdote, or an unexpected sacred moment. I am experiencing Europe through thirty-two very different sets of eyes, and to be honest, I am becoming quite fond of it.