Europe Trips

Follow along with the SSU students as they study and explore Western Europe

A Celtic Pilgrimage

October 31, 2011 – 1:15 pm
By Shelley Perry | Posted in All Things Travel, Alumni Abroad, Scotland 2012! Comments (0)

We’re on our way to Scotland (April 29th, 2012)! The countdown is on and if you’re interested then you can find the full itinerary and more information online here.  This is a really great opportunity to experience study abroad SSU style, whether you’re a student or not!

Now to answer some of your frequently asked questions…

What is the exact cost and what does that include?
The total price is $3699.00 and includes round trip airfare from Saint John, NB, accommodations (double occupancy), transportation around Scotland (luxury motor coach), breakfasts and dinners (lunches not included), guides and admission to all sites mentioned on itinerary.

Can I make payments or is it all due at once?
Yes you can! While the final amount is due by Feb. 17th, 2012, you can set up a payment schedule with Freedom Tours. Bi-weekly payments can make it easier.

Is this an SSU trip or Freedom Tours?
SSU has contracted Freedom Tours to take care of most of the logistics, but SSU’s Dean of Arts (Gregg Finley, PhD) is the trip leader. Payments are made to Freedom Tours who are working closely with SSU to be sure the execution of this trip is just how we want it.  We use a similar process for our Greece & Turkey trip as well as our Israel trip.

How does this “for credit” thing work?
If you are interested in doing this as a 3-credit hour course, then you will receive a syllabus with preliminary readings and assignments. This will all be under Gregg Finley’s instruction and there is no extra charge.  To take the trip for academic credit, please send an email to ssu@ssu.ca, or visit our facebook page and share your interest.

What about travel insurance?
This is not included in the price but HIGHLY recommended. It can be arranged by Freedom Tours for anyone interested at the time of booking.

When and how can I reserve a spot?
Call 1-800-61-2324 to pay your $300 deposit to reserve your place as soon as possible. Space is limited!

 

    

We’re Going to Scotland! Wanna Come?

September 22, 2011 – 4:22 pm
By Shelley Perry | Posted in All Things Travel, Alumni Abroad, Europe Trips, Scotland 2012! Comments (0)

Springtime in Scotland: A Celtic Pilgrimage

SSU is proud to announce our upcoming study trip to Scotland! Students, alumni, and friends are invited to participate in this 9-day trip throughout the lowlands and highlands of the Scotland.

Mark your calendars and book your time off and embark on this journey with our fearless leader and Celtic saint, Gregg Finley!  Here are some preliminary details, but stay tuned for a detailed itinerary and instructions on saving your spot!

WHEN–April 29th-May6th, 2012
WHERE–All over Scotland, from Glasgow to Iona, Skye, Inverness, Edinburgh and more!
WHAT--Historical sites like Culloden, and Holy Isles  like Iona & Skye and yes even a few Scotch Whiskey distilleries.
HOW–Travel by luxury motor coach and sleep in tourist class hotels (no camping on this trip!)
COST–The price will vary slightly depending on the final number of people, but expect it to be around $3500 per person. This will include everything except your lunches.
CAN I GET UNIVERSITY CREDIT?- Yes, this trip is a 3-credit hour course with readings and assignments for anyone who would like to take it for undergraduate credit.

“The tourist goes to see and collect (memories and mementos); the pilgrim goes to be changed.”    Daniel Taylor, In Search of Sacred Places: Looking for Wisdom on Celtic Holy Islands

 



…what just happened..

September 1, 2011 – 6:32 am
By JB | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

Over the course of three months I have been in 15 countries. As much as I love Canada I never quite expected to miss it or any other place for that matter. I have to say, towards the end all I wanted was to go back to Tim Hortons, Hockey, and my own bed. Once I got to Finland I couldn’t handle another language, another culture, and another expense.
This got me thinking about what it means to break away from a worldview. For the life of me, I have been wanting so much to separate myself from that, and yet in my futility I came to long for those things all the more. What I have come to realize though is not that I miss Canada per se, but those things inherent in the necessity for identity. When we started this travel program with the theme of ‘Negotiating Identities’, I found myself understanding this very simply. Like all concepts, it is often hard to understand merely by reading a word, or being told that ‘Identity’ is somehow connected with nationality, race, or the like. Identity is so closely intertwined with worldview, and with similar difficulty they are defined. What I come to ask now is, if so deeply rooted in me is not necessarily patriotism but nationalism, how can I gain true cultural empathy?

Jon B.

Banderas y mi origen verdad

August 15, 2011 – 8:40 pm
By madismith | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I’ve been back in North America for almost a month now. From busing across Europe, to the flight to Toronto, to my train ride home to Ottawa, and my flight back out to North Dakota, I’ve had quite the whirlwind adventure. Through the hustle and bustle of constantly moving from place to place, I have adopted a mentality I have never before found myself able to grasp.

I’m not a patriotic person. In fact, as a dual citizen, the concept of being patriotic becomes both more diluted and more complex. Which country do I identify more with? What is identity in culture? How can I be proud of coming from a first-world country? The latter question is the most troubling to me in the question of patriotism. However my mentality, as aforementioned, has come to a heightened state of existence.

Throughout our travels in Europe, I found myself captivated by flags. When we landed in Spain it was hard to believe we were in another country. Obviously it looks nothing like New Brunswick, but it doesn’t look entirely foreign either. It wasn’t until I saw the Spanish flag blowing in the wind that I fully realized we had made it. This theme was consistent for me on the trip. Each new place was made real to me by each new waving flag. Each culture, beautifully unique and captivating in its own way. Each place diverse and rich in history. Each place worthy of its identity as a nation. Though much was good, taking in so much culture slowly wore on me, and throughout the travels, I grew a little more weary day by day.

Something about traveling in Europe really brings out the beauty of calling Canada your home. Everyone there seems to have such a strong respect for Canada, such a strong sense of friendship. It wasn’t until Canada day in Paris that I found myself actually homesick for Canada. The real shock came to me in the homeland.

After returning to Canada and staying with Liam’s family in Kitchener a couple of nights, I began my trek home by train to Ottawa. I was in a sort of traveler’s shock. I was tired, but not worn out. Content, but ready to be home. Alongside my train, about two hours into the ride, a Canadian flag was waving in the wind atop a pole to the west. This moment was the most Canadian I’ve ever felt in my life. The peace dawned on me that no matter where I go, Canada is back home waiting for me. A strong, secure nation where I have family and friends. A stationary place to rest and regain myself before traveling again. For the first time in my life I think I truly understand the concept of national pride, though my version is without any sense of supremacy. I am simply thankful to have a home like Canada.

So here I find myself back to working in a western-themed town in North Dakota, located in my birth country. Back to being known as ‘the Canadian’, and for the first time with a sense of national pride without arrogance. Each morning at work, just after raising the American flag, I get to raise the Canadian one and remember what flags represent.

Traveler’s blessings,
- Madi Smith

Time is of the essence

August 15, 2011 – 4:39 pm
By katebaker | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

“Time is of the essence”: this old legal phrase has somehow passed into our common speech to mean that time is important, and that we must make the most of it. Yet it still carries its original sense of hastening to fulfill some requirement as well. Time was of the essence in Europe. We moved from one place to another within days – each place containing experiences and treasures that could only happen there – at that time. Our ordinary every-day time was funneled onto the fast moving train of ever present activity. That is what it seemed like at times. But our leaders often reminded us of the need to take time to be, of the necessity of quiet alone-time. Those times taken – whether intentionally or provided by circumstance -were vital. Literally. They were life-giving. They were often the place where “the peace that passes understanding” could start to unravel the masses of emotion and experiences that had built up on the inside. Time is a medium we exist within, but we miss its essence if we stick to the consumer mode of measuring and using it to our own satisfaction; operating on the fear that it might run out. But time is not valuable for its length or amount; it is precious because it provides the moments where we meet with God, with others, with our own selves. It is the richness of our lives that determines the value of our time. The requirement we must hasten to fulfill, the goal we reach for, whether that is the richest experience for each European city, or seeking to “walk humbly with our God” is much more easily lost if we hurry through time or stretch it on the canvas of our self-determined schedule. This is something from the Europe trip that I will need to keep learning long after I hand in my final papers.

 

Kate

Let it soak into your skin, further up and further in.

August 10, 2011 – 9:24 am
By nygelmetcalfe | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

In Europe, I encountered many different places that spoke to me and resonated with me. I felt often as though I was fulfilling some kind of sacred rite of passage.

Now, back home, I have begun to crave the places of worship.

Shouting their grandeur at tourists, while at the same time seeming to be quietly announcing their holiness.

They are often described as thin places, places in which the fabric that persistently separates the physical world we inhabit from the spiritual realm that exists in parallel to our own. In these places, that fabric seems to have been worn so thin by pilgrim feet and devoted knees, that it becomes merely a transparent membrane. I feel as though, if someone were to be on the other side, they could see the outline of my hand as I push through, like a restless baby still in the mother’s womb. If one were to put their angelic ear to that thin place, they could hear our oohs and aahs, make out our whispered prayers and stifled laughter, as we immerse ourselves in the Cathedrals and Shorelines.

Some time ago someone had a crazy idea about going to Europe, and this year my class and I enjoyed the fruits of those labours. It was well worth it. We planned, we scheduled and we went. It was excellent exposure, and none of us left without being impacted in some way.

We went as strangers, but soon became friends. I had a bone to pick with those narrow cobblestone streets. I loved the plants that spilled over the ornate balconies.

Sometimes we would glide, sometimes we would trudge, sometimes rushing, sometimes leisurely, some strutting, some trundling, in sickness and in health, in company of friends and by ourselves, with eyes wide, mouths open, sweat on brows, hands in hands, occasional tears in eyes, wine across tongues, and the corners of our mouths turned upward. Here, a discotheque; there, an altarpiece that shows what the Savior looks like for the every man. War is a wild danger and Patience is my stickman, but I am learning. If I could convey in a sentence all of what has happened, it would be tricky, but may look something like this: Europe isn’t everything, but at the same time, it’s quite something.

Nygel

 

kind of like buttons.

August 9, 2011 – 2:13 pm
By Nicola Gladwell | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I don’t think I am an emotional mess; I’d like to call myself ‘empathetically emotionally aware’.

Confession: I have cried almost every single day since returning home from Europe.

I cry in beauty.

Watching my brother coach his son’s soccer team. When I heard about a ‘young Mother’s’ meeting at our Church continuing to meet together long after the formal meetings ended. Reading about a coastal town in Italy that has been setting a trend of welcoming refugees in with open arms. Every time I put on the Les Miserables album.

I cry in anguish.

Listening to a friend talking about his wife’s struggles through cancer and radiation. Learning about the incumbent divorce of close friends. Reading about the reality of Tunisian refugee camps.

An event didn’t used to grasp my attention unless I personally identified with it.

In Dachau we saw a crematory that had disposed of tens of thousands of denigrated human bodies. In Dresden we toured where the all-consuming inferno had swallowed up the whole town. In Paris, we stood near where the guillotine had sat. In Assisi we learned about one man’s life lived for peace. In Munich, we learned about Sophie Scholl and her sacrifice for freedom. Just when human life seemed irredeemably disposable, it became more precious than ever.

My perception of institutionary Christianity took a beating on the trip, yet my adoration and appreciation for people – Christian or not – bringing about the love, peace, and graceful equality of the Kingdom of God grew to overflowing. Life is so precious. Life is too precious not to share it.

Travelling Western Europe expanded the boundaries of my ‘self’. At least, I’d like to think that my identity was enlarged; I have been introduced to my history, my roots; my heritage. I’ve become aware of my shared history, shared roots, and shared heritage. With this and the realization that life is too precious not to share, I think I’ve adopted a clearer purpose and meaning for life.

I’m not saying one has to cry to be ‘empathetically emotionally aware’. I hope I can grow to process through life without looking like an emotional mess, but for now I appreciate my tears as a God-given way of expressing my joy and pain, and I don’t want to lose them, not yet.

 

Nicola

kind of like buttons. disposable? precious.

[Nicola Gladwell is currently slack-lining and reading the first volume of Les Miserables for stress-relief as she battles through post-trip academia and looks for a job that’s hopefully pertinent to her IS degree. She has a lovely habit of collecting discarded buttons and calling them gifts of grace. She misses her friends and professors, yet is grateful for the near-completion of her first-rate liberal arts university education at SSU!]

 

 

 

Looking back and stepping forward

August 9, 2011 – 9:34 am
By JenObokata | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I started writing this blog entry over a week ago. At the time I was writing about how hard it is to have all of my memories and experiences from the trip bottled up with no real outlet to share them. But I have decided to scrap that and just share one of these memories instead of complaining about how I can’t.

I had almost forgotten about our visit to the Pantheon. So many things had happened almost every day on our European tour, our days in Rome were no different. We saw the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Vatican, Trevi Fountain; you name it we saw it on our Roman Holiday. There was, however, something a little different about our visit to the Pantheon. The Pantheon was once a temple to the many Roman deities but was later re-appropriated as a Christian Church. Today it is a spectacular architectural landmark and stop on every Roman tourists’ agenda but I would not say it is a particularly spiritual place. In keeping with a bit of a St. Stephen’s University tradition we changed that.

Standing in a circle in the middle of the magnificently domed room we started to sing the doxology, “Praise God from whom all blessings flow…” In the noisy din of a huge space filled with people we made a little holy space, a “thin place”. It felt rebellious and right at the same time. We stopped being tourists for a moment and we were pilgrims, we were on a journey to somewhere. The journey I took through Europe was both physical and personal. This is a memory I will treasure and I am so glad to have shared it with others. I look forward to more memories, like this one, popping up in my mind and I look forward to unpacking in the months to come how I have been impacted by what I have seen and experienced.

Jen

The Best Text Book

August 8, 2011 – 2:35 pm
By Janell | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

It was an incredible experience to travel and learn this way over the last two months. Yes it had its challenges and unpleasant moments/days, but looking back at the big picture, it was amazing. I have learned so much academically, as well as personally. Most days I was so excited to learn more, (although I didn’t intentionally think of it as learning), to face the day and whatever it may bring. It was usually a new city, a new historical site or a new museum filled with magnificent pieces of art. It was challenging at times to do this alongside the same thirty people, but in my opinion, there was more good than negative, especially when feeding off of each others positivity and excitement. Their excitement was contagious even in the academic scene, it was so inspiring and encouraging to see what my fellow students were passionate about in their presentations or simply in general conversation.

Not only did I learn academically, but I learned personally about myself and personally about others. In this kind of group setting we’re bound to have to learn more about each other, even if sometimes it’s more than we want to learn. There were the challenges of cooking a meal together, whether there was tension or rain or both, but there was also fun times admist it. Packing and unpacking, setting up and taking down, cleaning or sitting on the bus for hours, living in the rain… the list could really go on, but we persevered through it all. Others encouraged me and I encouraged others. I leaned on the Lord for strength and encouragement in my own time of need, but we also spent times as a group to seek out the Lord. There were also many many times of laughter, games, silly conversation, tricks and relaxation and this was school! At times, yes I did have to intentional remind myself I was there for academic purposes but I would not have had it any other way.

Even though it was challenging at times to really engage with the culture, sites and museums, to sit down to journal or write a short paper, it was this that made the trip academic. That’s what made it more than just vacationing. I was, and we were, traveling intentionally in order to experience culture, learn history and participate in the present day happenings of other nations. Travelling intentionally deepened my understanding of my studies done before the trip, as well as in past years. I was able to see these artistic masterpieces for real and understand its style, oppose to just seeing a picture and reading a description that meant little to my non-artistic brain. This experiential learning also occurred in Dachau, the Eagle’s Nest, Tyne Cot Cemetery, the Coliseum, Versailles, Dresden, Prague’s Jewish quarter and more. We weren’t just playing beach volleyball, swimming, camping, eating out, shopping or living the life of a tourist; we were students, using the world as our text book.

Janell

 

 

One Well Rounded Individual Please

August 8, 2011 – 9:17 am
By danbeaudoin | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

Since returning home I have tried to devote at least a little bit of time each day, or each week towards processing my trip.  There is so much that happened, so much that I did, and so much that I learned that it is no small task to look back on it all.  During one of these processing times I was reflecting on the wide range of interests that people who were on this trip had.  I was thinking back on how so many people were passionate about at least one thing that they had encountered on the trip.  These passions included things like, art, music, history, humanitarian issues, etc.  But what made it so special was that it was usually something more specific instead of a broad category.  What I realize, having now viewed things from a distance, is that I learned how to appreciate some of these things simply because others appreciated them.  Where I would usually be disinterested and bored, for example the opera, or Picasso’s work, I was able to at least appreciate the fact that someone else found it interesting.  Instead of being resistant to these things, I gradually learned to accept them and share in others excitement over them.  I can see my progression from the annoying guy who keeps criticizing something he doesn’t like to the one who asks questions and engages with the person who is excited about it.  Not only does this help with my interactions with other people, but it also helps me to learn about things that I normally would avoid.  I like to think it makes me a little bit more well rounded, if it is even possible to be more well rounded than I already am…

Daniel

owners of the temporary

August 6, 2011 – 8:12 pm
By chelseadickey | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

After two months of moving every four days, adjusting to familiar surroundings at home is both nice and different. The trip was eight weeks of constant motion and it was necessary to learn how to make the temporary ordinary.

One way I adjusted to travelling was to form personal rhythms. Some people allotted an activity they did each morning before breakfast while other people had a bus routine. Everyone’s routine was shaped by their personality and interests. I chose to write in my personal journal often to clarify my thoughts. We creatures of rhythm naturally etched ourselves into some sort of familiarity in order to remain grounded living in flux.

Europe was also a time to start new relationships while strengthening old ones. Foundations were established as relationships formed and we were able to learn something new about those around us. People came alive and into their own on the trip which was exciting to watch.

By learning to take ownership of the temporary elements of our life, meaning is created. As our group learned how to become rooted despite the travelling, we were able to flourish. We anchored ourselves and were free to branch out into new experiences. I for one reflect back on the grounded nature of the Europe trip and am thankful.

Chelsea

Life after…

August 6, 2011 – 4:06 pm
By Jonathan Higgins | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

As some of the others have pointed out, we’re back in the scramble of normal life. What is the Europe trip experience to me now? I returned home eagerly looking forward to the simplicity of sleeping in a bed, having eggs for breakfast, not having to walk a half mile to the nearest washroom or live out of a backpack. Those trifles have vanished now as I suddenly am missing my travel companions, the camaraderie, the teamwork and just living a crazy life for two months with 30 amazing people. I won’t forget singing the doxology in the Pantheon, climbing into the hills of Montserrat, biking through Montserrat and around Lake Zug, and so much more! Seeing the progression of art as we travelled and visited many different museums gave me a sense for a side of art I have never appreciated–painting. The evolution in style in response to world events or rigid backwards thinking, became fascinating to learn about and observe. Along the way we met some stellar people, from our guides in various cities to our hosts in others. This trip has been carefully designed to promote and facilitate the rapid expansion of ones worldview while also pacing all of us and giving us time to mentally process, experience and enjoy.

I want to thank our leaders who patiently walked with us through this experience. Mentors, pastors, professors, facilitators–our leaders wore many hats and it’s thanks to their work and determination that everything went as well as it did. Thanks you guys, you know who you are.

To my fellow students, my extended family even, I say thank you for treating me as one of you–despite an arguably sizable age-gap! We lived, learned, laughed, cooked, and moved together for so long and then in a flash we were saying goodbye and going our own ways. I can’t wait to see all of you back next Fall and will be praying for all of you. Blessings,

Jonathan

Roman observations

August 5, 2011 – 8:02 pm
By gregrickard | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I find myself in the eternal city, the one which all roads lead to, the city of Rome. Equally so, I find myself sitting atop a white marble bench scribbling notes into a journal. What makes this particular event interesting is that I have previously scribbled notes on this very bench in 2007, and 2008.

The Roman experience isn’t an exactly new experience for myself. As I look around I see that the city hasn’t changed greatly over these past few years. The workers at my favourite cafe are still the same, though with some grey in their hair now. The Indians still run the food and drink carts, and the North Africans still sell fake designer goods.

These observations force me to question if anything has changed at all amidst these experiences in the former capital of the world. After some thought, I have come to the conclusion that it is I in fact that has changed. Each visit has broadened my worldview and has increased my experience of travel and all the little tricks that come along with it.

Greg

In Lieu of Travel

August 5, 2011 – 4:02 pm
By racheldriedger | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

After finally coming home to a bed and the real North American life that lay dormant during my weeks traipsing through Europe, I discovered a sense of restlessness and impatience that lurked at the edge of my now, having a real mattress, very deep sleep. Before this, I had travelled across North America, but I had never been further than the shores of the Atlantic. Now I have seen Rome, Paris, and London, the great cities of our Western World. I have been infected with the travel bug. Along with this knowledge and cultural experience, I want to see more.
I miss the steady breathing of a tent mate beside me. I miss lying down after walking for miles during the day, grateful for that flimsy thermarest. I miss questioning everything and frustrating the teachers that would walk beside me in this experience. I miss pondering the meaning of what it is to travel and truly experience what is around me, as well as the meaning of pilgrimage and am I really on one, rather than using that simply as an excuse to participate in glorified tourism.
These cultures, these experiences, have shaped me. I come home with a new worldview, and a new mind. Assisi taught me to renounce entitlement. Rome taught me that power falls. Paris taught me that beauty is found in the least expected places, and so is pain. And the battlefields of the world wars taught me that remembering the past is one of the most important things I can do for my generation. Wisdom is experienced and knowledge is making itself  heard through the heart and eyes of a perpetual student.
I pray that I will be wise.

Rachel

A New Kind of Normal

August 2, 2011 – 7:18 pm
By momo. | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

It’s funny how comfortable you can get with soggy tents, stinky buses, and ‘temperamental’ propane burners. After spending just about all day every day with the same people, sharing experiences together, it becomes your new reality, your new home. Even when you find slugs in your shoes, or the propane burner spontaneously shoots flames at you while your cooking (don’t worry, I think they fixed it), it just becomes a (kind of crappy) part of your normal every day life, and just becomes another experience in your new home. Strangely enough, leaving that and coming back home felt like just the opposite; I had gotten so used to living in a tight-knit ‘rustic’ tenting community, that coming back to a house with a roof and a bed an electric stove seems almost foreign. Although I am so grateful for all of these things, it does feel like I have left my home in some way. The Europe trip became my new normal, and now leaving that behind feels like I am leaving my home.

I’m gonna miss our life together. It is sort of a surreal experience, our whirlwind tour of Western Europe, and especially with how we do things, but in true SSU fashion it brought us all closer together, and I’m really going to miss it. So, thanks everyone for all the good times, for putting up with me in the bad ones, and for sharing your lives with me for the past 2 months! It will take some time to get used to things without you all; you made Europe my home!

Lots of love,
Mo.

Coffee As a Life Style

August 2, 2011 – 2:18 pm
By rachellesnelgrove | Posted in 2011 Comments (1)

Coffee as a Representative of Our Differing Lifestyles
I have been back in Canada for a few days now and have not experienced as much culture shock as I figured I would, especially having been away for so long. The one thing that has really affected me since I have been back has been the coffee, yes you heard me right, the coffee. I cannot believe what we call coffee here, it’s just sad. Coffee is not just a beverage it’s a way of life. I believe the way a person drinks their coffee says a lot about them, and no I don’t mean sip or slurp or chug. I mean how they treat the whole experience surrounding coffee. Therefore, if the way a person treats the “coffee experience” can tell a lot about them, it logically must work the same for the way a nation treats the coffee experience. I noticed that we, North Americans, and the Europeans treat the coffee experience quite differently. Sure we both run off coffee and we all enjoy it in the company of others, but for North Americans it has become an addiction so thick that we can hardly even enjoy a good cup of coffee any more. Yes, a good cup of coffee, not a grande from Dunkin’ Donuts.

So let me begin by describing how typical North Americans treat the coffee experience: we wake up grab a cup of coffee and get ready for work or school, then we pick up a large coffee on the way to work which becomes cold in 10 minutes but we drink it because there is still three quarters of a cup left. We do not even savour the taste, we do not even acknowledge that we are drinking it, we run off coffee to keep up with our busy lifestyle and therefore do not care too much for the taste or the quality, we just need our fix. I realize that this is not the case for all, I am talking about the majority here, because I am sure that there are many Europeans who are likely to do the same, again, majority here. Now shall we look at the European way of drinking coffee? The portions are much smaller and the quality is much better. The flavor is richer and the texture is thicker. It is quite a bit more expensive there, but they drink less of it and enjoy it a little more. It just re-assures me that their lifestyle seems to be much slower paced, and they seem to take the time to enjoy good quality things such as coffee, wine, and beer. Yes, they treat wine and beer quite the same, good quality stuff that is not simply consumed to get wasted. I admit, I am one of those North Americans that runs off coffee and will usually drink any kind of coffee no matter how awful it is, but after experiencing coffee the European way I cannot see how I could go back.

Rachelle

Conclusion

July 28, 2011 – 9:17 am
By jessicaneudorf | Posted in 2011 Comments (1)

The conclusion. The grand, so what? The point where we ask what the point was. Did we all just go on an extensive holiday? A spiritual pilgrimage? A big experiment in social dynamics? A cool photo/marketing opportunity for the school? How do you classify the crazy adventure we all shared in? And how are you supposed to quantify its value?

I am hesitant to call this trip ‘life changing.’ Educational – yes. Relationship building – I hope so. Thought provoking – definitely. But life changing? Doubtful. I’ve only been home two weeks and already the only tangible result of going to Europe is the homework. It is just too easy to slip back in to the same patterns of living and thinking. I hope though, that I can take away a new definition of normal. Or rather, a destruction of the concept of normal. You would think living in the big yellow house would be enough to convince a person that normality is an illusion, but apparently not. In the Vatican, I saw a fresco of a smashed Roman idol being replaced by a crucifix, and I was reminded that this is the reason Christianity seems ‘normal.’ In the colonies section of the British museum, I was reminded of why English is the ‘normal’ language, and why I expect that I can get by in all other European countries without bothering to learn more than a few phrases. The Uffizi and the Louvre were reminders of where our categories of good and bad art – and female beauty for that matter – are derived from. While learning about the darker parts of Reformation history, I wondered why it is so easy to believe our own doctrines and heroes are ‘normal,’ or, dare I say, infallible. Eastern Europe showed us a people for whom capitalism is not normal, although it is quickly becoming so. Visiting the Flanders Fields museum, we remembered that for many people, peace is not normal. And a feminist NGO worker in Brussels told us that just because a system is ‘normal,’ doesn’t mean it has to be.

So hopefully I learned something. Hopefully it makes a lasting difference. And hopefully I can learn to live without divisions of who is normal and who is not.

Jessica

Thought of the Day

July 27, 2011 – 1:47 pm
By graceturner | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I have surrendered my travel rags in for the comforting sun of Georgia skies. I sit comfortably drinking my Starbucks coffee and listening to my online music playlist. These are the things my companions and I dreamed of while traveling. Instead of trudging through the buses interior to make a cup of tea, I patiently walk into my kitchen, boil some water and plop a peppermint teabag in. [Relaxation].

While sleeping on Europe’s earthy soil I experienced the gravitating pull of lost stories; stories hidden under the rubble of our ancestors. Mothers, fathers, daughters and lovers through their inspiration I have found myself connecting with this land in unspeakable ways. Standing on the shoreline of the Northern Sea, walking in tunnels built for Canadian soldiers before they plummeted Vimy Ridge, wandering through the labryinth of streets in Venice. Each country, each city, every street tells a different story. I have glimpsed the love and hatred that plagues Europe, both past and present.

No longer do these stories live in textbooks. These characters are real, Sophie Scholl, Jan Palach, Martin Luther, Donatello, and Van Gogh are all people who lived and breathed in the same places where I stood. Europe is a tangible place, it is the place of my ancestors and it holds an important piece of my history. No matter where I go these places have inspired me to crave excellence. The world is a place where one can constantly feel that they are swimming upstream, but one thought, one inspired word can create a ripple in the stream of society. If I have learned anything on this trip it is that humanity is sacred and we must live and fight for it with each breath.

Grace

The World is My Home.

July 27, 2011 – 9:33 am
By juliaroberts | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I am back in Canada, back “home.”  But what is home?

I used to talk and dream about going to Europe, going to the Colosseum, the Louvre, the Alps; I wanted to see the fashion and eat the food, I wanted to experience Europe. But it was always this idea; Europe was this far away place that, despite how amazing it seemed, was far away and not very relevant to the world that I live in here in North America.

Then it was no longer a “one day I’ll do go there and do this,” because I went to Europe and I did all of the things that I dreamed about, and so much more. This in itself was amazing; so few people have done what I have done, and even fewer in the context that i have done it –traveling with my classmates and professors and learning about history in the very place where that history took place. This was a once in a lifetime experience that I will treasure for the rest of my life. But the one thing that this trip has done for me –and my previous trip to Asia did the same thing– is make these places real to me. Europe is no longer this far off place that I may or may not ever go to, it is very real, with real people and real thoughts and traditions and cultures. I can put images and faces and names to what before had only been vague concepts. I can now not only see myself going back, I can see myself living there. The world is so much bigger, yet at the same time so much smaller than it was before.

So I thank you, Europe and everyone who I met there and everyone who went there with me. It is because of you that my horizons are expanded while my world has been shrunk. People may say that the world is their oyster, but something much more important becomes truer for me the more I travel: for me, the world is my home.

Blessings,

Julia

Theory of Mind/Country

July 26, 2011 – 11:35 am
By Selina Mullin | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

Children lack something called a theory of mind, the ability to think outside of yourself and to imagine what another must be feeling. A good example of this would be  a child gifting a doll to their parents. If the doll makes me happy it must make them happy as well.

Countries, I believe, are like this too. Maybe it is because a collective has such a difficult time moving away from a group-centered focus. Put 200 selfish people together and you get a 200 people strong, selfish group. We are individuals and we are also members of community; broken members in broken communities. It makes sense that moving past our needs/wants/desires would prove even more difficult when multiplied by a couple million, and then given a government to deal with those problems.

But, what, pray tell, am I getting at? What’s the point?

Well, after the past two months of travelling extensively, visiting diverse countries, I’ve noticed something. We all think we’ve got it the worst. Even if we’re a fully developed democratic nation with an excellent subway system and semi-stable economy. There are always the oppressed, the down trodden, those whose entitlements aren’t being fulfilled. In the Czech Republic we had the envious thirst of a post-Communist state. In Italy we had the nationalists fighting against the waves of North African immigrants. In Barcelona there were the Catalunyan people. There are the Roma, all across Europe, being discriminated and isolated from main stream society.

I don’t mean to demean any of these concerns. Many of them are legitimate, yet after so many organization visits and listening/talking to people as I travelled I came to a conclusion. We all believe we are the final frontier. In Canada, I couldn’t imagine anyone had the same problems as we did. Quebec, First Nations, Veterans, healthcare…these were are complex problems unique to us. Of course, leeway was given when in discussions about the Middle East or the Third World. But, still, we had it hard.

Travel has made me realize the universal complexity and imperfections that surround all of us, no matter where we live. Travelling I kept hearing the same stories of anger, fear, repression and lamentation. It seems we are all fighting battles the other can understand, connect to. When I was hurt emotionally as a teenager I couldn’t imagine anyone would know the same pain I did, they couldn’t. I came to realize they do, and to embrace everyone’s capacity for pain and suffering.

I developed a theory of mind. And, I pray Canada might too. We have a lot to learn from the suffering of those around us, and their struggles towards the same hope we, too, are looking towards.

Selina

New Noise

July 26, 2011 – 4:35 am
By zackingles | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

Everything looks different to me. Since returning home my perspective has significantly shifted. My “Maple Leaf Glasses” have come off and I have begun to view my surroundings from a global perspective rather than an inward focused selfish view. Travelling Europe has broadened my understanding of my role in the world; especially as a Canadian. All of the countries we’ve visited have overcome a vast amount of adversity since the beginning of their establishment. Never in my life have I experienced such nationalism; each country, in a different way, celebrate their downfalls and achievements to such an extent that one can not help but admire. A Canadian visiting Vimy Ridge can not do so without significantly affecting their worldview. To be in a country in which you do not need to earn respect, but are given respect immediately is an incredible honor. Contrarily, to be in a situation in which you must continually fight for the respect of a person or entire people group is a terrifyingly humbling experience. The personal growth that these notions have produced in me during our time in Europe are, and will continue to be, valuable gems in my life. When I feel my old worldview creeping back my now past experiences begin to ring a new kind of noise in my life.

Zack

Our pilgrimage comes to a close…

July 9, 2011 – 11:40 pm
By Jonathan Higgins | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

The end approaches and I’m more attached to this crazy bunch of people than I ever imagined. Our endless fellowship, whether in our living spaces (tents), or kitchen (propane burners under an open sky,) or walking the streets of these foreign cities, continues to build relationship in every direction. Even our late-comers, Hannah and Dave have quickly been assimilated into our band of pilgrims. As we head off to our last major city before leaving the continent, I’m looking back on our journey and appreciating this experience in even greater ways. Not only the exposure to art, architecture and history but experiencing these things within a crucible of intense relationship with one another has served to enrich an experience that might otherwise seem somewhat recreational. 

Jonathan

Saint Judas

July 9, 2011 – 7:21 pm
By madismith | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

An afternoon stop in Colmar, France led our group to see Grunewald’s beautiful rare altar pieces, which featured (among other things) a diseased crucified Jesus, and a tormented Saint Anthony.

What I was far more interested in, upon taking notice of them, were a series of panels done by Martin Schongauer on the life, betrayal, and death of Jesus. In his portrayal of the last supper, I noticed that the disciples were adorned with golden halos of sainthood- all except Judas. Of course, that would seem initially reasonable. We recognize Judas as a traitor, somehow worse in his sin than the others. His betrayal was perhaps more tangible to us. So why does Peter get a halo?

The bible says we all sin and fall short of God’s glory. Maybe we need to take a step back and reevaluate how we look at Judas.

Peace.
Madi

So I wash by hand…

July 9, 2011 – 3:46 pm
By nygelmetcalfe | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

Traveling in a group is a very rewarding experience. I have had so much time to spend with people, laugh with people, and get to know the real side of them in a way I never would have otherwise if we hadn’t been squeezed together in our little ship of a bus on this sea of European cities.

I have taken, in my time here, to washing clothes by hand. It’s been a good chance to have a moment of peace during my constant flurry of activity, and I feel as if, for a moment, I am getting back to my roots – My ancestors probably didn’t have coin operated washing machines. The truth is that pilgrimage isn’t all fun and games and glamorous architectural marvels! Sometimes participant living requires mundane chores.

So I wash by hand, and naturally, have to wring the clothes out to minimize the drying time when they are hung outside on a line. It takes a great deal of work to squeeze out the water, though, and by the end of a load, my forearms are stiff and sore from so much concentrated effort. Sometimes it even takes two people for the bigger, heavier articles.

As we go, having a plethora of new and incredible experiences packed into the busiest, shortest two months of my academic career up to this point, I have a suspicion.

I suspect that, as I wash, I am echoing the greater experience of this European escapade in the difficult but satisfying task of doing laundry. In the same way that I want to squeeze every single drop of water out of my clean clothes, I want to be intentional about squeezing every ounce of meaning out of my traveling adventure. I seek to separate the wheat of observation and engagement from the chaff of self-absorption and the indiscriminate plodding along of an ignorant tourist. The longer I’m at it, though, the more tired I get and the more my emotional forearms ache. Sometimes, it even takes two people to process these things that are so much bigger than myself.

But it’s worth it! In the end. those mental and spiritual drapings are there now, clean and fresh, and ready to be drawn on for truth, context, maturity, interest, and possibly even some trendy European fashion statements.

Keeping washing, my friends. It’s worth it. (Trust me, not even a European wants to be naked ALL the time. )

Nygel

drawing stickmen

July 9, 2011 – 11:12 am
By Nicola Gladwell | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

So. In Assisi I talked about my contradiction between my personal and institutional faith life (strongly associated with my religious heritage seen in Europe). I talked about how I was hurt and prideful against the Church, and how St. Francis (my favorite ‘spiritual great’) had been a major balancing/centering figure for me on the trip (he saw the problems in the Church and loved it/them even more; humbly and selflessly).

I’ve come a long way! I’ve realized I’m even more prideful than I originally thought, and living in an intense (or shall we say, ‘in-tents’?) community has made me realize that I am greedy of my comforts and possessions, I’m easily irritable, I would rather buy an Italian coffee or Belgian beer over tithing my change… *sigh. In short, I am so, so, so far away from the spiritual ‘greats’ we’re learning about (St. Antony, St. Therese de lisieux, St. Francis…). I study them, and I want what they have… I really, really want it. I do. But, I just… can’t reconcile the distance that divides me from them.

And so we talked about it (we do that sometimes when with friends 24/7). We were talking about art (we see a lot of art)… and about how we might feel pressured to be the next artistic ‘great’. I don’t feel the pressured to be the next artistic ‘great’. Honore Daumier and Franz von Stuck (two people who I had never heard about before 2 months ago and now I am in love with their work… look them up. seriously.) can keep their crowns. But… give me a second to experience the intimacy that Erasmus or Francis might have felt in their relationship with my God and I will mimic ‘The Ecstasy of Theresa’ (google it?)… or so I feel sometimes.

Maybe if the art galleries inspire so much as a stickmen from our pencil tips – some form of impression – some form of expression – than maybe we can hope to draw stickmen with our mumbling, tripping, and fumbling faith. Nygel said in reply, ‘generosity is my stickman’. It is. In the rain, after a full day of museums, when I’m cooking and the sky hasn’t been blue for days (or even when it has (the sky, I mean – being blue) and everything is ammazzing) I often feel as though I don’t have enough generosity to even draw a stickman with. But I try. I try to try. I want to try to try. And Jesus said that, ‘those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be filled’, right? In the process. In the trying. In the wanting to try to try. In the wanting to want.

And with every trying to try to want to try to want (?) maybe I can hope to bring a little bit of heaven to earth, to be pleasing to my God (oh, yes please)… to participate in bringing heaven to earth, like all those spiritual greats.

I want to share about all the art that has touched me: about the morning dips in a Swiss lake; about walking to the Florentine Duomo in bare feet late (late) at night; about para-gliding in the alps; about lying on the ground and then dancing beneath the Eiffel Tower at night; about running to catch the North Sea sunset. But I talk instead about drawing stickmen. I just feel like… if I don’t learn to do this, if I don’t learn to better exhibit the qualities that my God wants in his heaven, then all of this is useless. It is.

Oh, let me draw stickmen.

Nicola

Art Matters

July 8, 2011 – 9:23 pm
By graceturner | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

In my travels thus far most art, or art that was considered great, was created by the white European male. I know this is not a new observation but its implications still apply. Where are the voices of the female population, the Black artist, the Asian sculptor; and so on. I enjoy the direction art is going… ‘liberating itself from the chains of white mediocracy’. Contemporary art is almost the exact opposite of our historical conception of art. Contemporary art disregards all rules.

My quarrels with contemporary art is the very thing that defines it. If there are no rules — can anything be art? Should anything be art? It’s difficult to rectify the two art histories. Without our past heritage of male dominated art; would we have the same art that now litters the walls of modern museums? These are just the thoughts of a tired traveler who seeks to find truth in art, no matter its history art a hundred years ago as well as today has the ability to change and move you.

Grace

Mind-Maps

July 8, 2011 – 5:57 pm
By katebaker | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

I usually wander around Europe with someone who knows where they are going. My sense of direction is terrible and my map skills questionable, so wandering around an unfamiliar city today, alone with just a map, taught me something useful: you need to know where you are in order to know how to get to your destination. AND suddenly finding you present position on a city map may be difficult if you haven’t been paying attention to where you are going. This new piece of information struck a chord with my thoughts on the specifically academic side of the trip. In the middle of all the “experiential learning,” which is key to our travel term, we are encountering information and ideas – anywhere from WWI political history to surrealism in art. These silently ask us to responsibly consider what influence they have on the world and humankind – their effectual destination. This in itself is challenging, both personally, and as a group where opinions vary greatly, but in looking for the thought or event’s destination on the map of human existence you begin to realize that you first need to find your own position on that map – your own point of view. And so, consciously or not, the question turns inward. This self-reflective understanding becomes like knowing your spot on the map; it gives you a lighter mind and freer step in heading toward your destination – be it the bus station, or a political opinion.

Kate

Art history from the beginning

July 8, 2011 – 3:34 pm
By JenObokata | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

From the beginning of this trip it has been pretty obvious to me that my focus would be drawn toward all of the amazing art that I knew  I would be seeing. Having studied art history on and off throughout my education, and completed extensive pre-Europe work, I had laid a firm foundation for the art pieces I would encounter. Since mid-May I have been privileged to see so many of The Greats of art history. Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia. Chagall’s Biblical Series. Michelangelo’s David and the Sistine Chapel. Raphael’s School of Athens. Boticelli’s Primavera and the Birth of Venus. Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. Klimt’s Kiss. Monet’s waterlilies. Van Gogh’s self portrait. There are so many more masterpieces and artists that this whole blog could be one long list, but I digress.
Despite all of The Greats it has bees some of the lesser known artists that have moved me the most. The unexpected surprises that really stopped me in my tracks. One such moment was in the Museum of Natural History in Vienna. It was there that I found a four inch tall curvaceous little fertility icon. Her name was the Venus of Willendorf and she dates back to the Paleolithic times. The Venus is essentially the beginning of art history as we know it. I was so struck by this little figure’s intricate details, still visible many thousand years later.

I am working out my relationship with art everyday, juggling feelings about it’s value or materialism or elitism, one thing is becoming more and more clear to me through self examination and interaction with the masters. We are creators, made to replicate or interpret the world around us as we see it. This is in everyone in some way, I think. And for those who impacted us the most either because we love them or hate them, think they are full of it, or we see ourselves or our culture through their work, thank you.

Jen

Life in War…

July 8, 2011 – 11:17 am
By momo. | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

The Flander’s Fields Museum and Tyne Cot Cemetery impacted me so much more than I thought that they would. I have always had a kind of compassion for people in the armed forces; my grandfather was in the Navy in WWII (joining at only 18), and he almost never spoke about his time there. Growing up with this silent subject in my home gave a sense of reverence for the power and weight war has on those in the battle front. So, coming to these memorial sites with this foundation set me up for an emotional experience that I was not expecting. The stories and the gravestones broke my heart.
It would be so incredibly hard to live through a reality that was so horrific and have people back home be unable to understand what it was like out there. No matter how hard you try, you can’t truly understand something that you haven’t experienced. No wonder people have so much trouble coming back home. It would leave you with such a sense of loneliness to be surrounded by people who didn’t know what hardships you had been through.
– ———————
While wandering through the cemetery, my eyes were continually welling up with tears as I read the ages of the soldiers who died fighting in the Great War. 19, 20, 19, 22, 21… they were children; young boys who were willing to lay down their lives for their nations. I can’t imagine the state of mind the young people would have had to come to in that place, especially when I think that I and many of my friends are that age ourselves and live in such a different reality.
I can’t put into words all the thoughts that are swimming around in my head.. There are so many situations I can’t understand because I’ve never been in that place of desperation where I’ve had to go beyond the limits of a comfortable life. Although I’ll never be able to completely understand things I’ve never gone through, I think the questions I have are continually opening my eyes to new concepts and perspectives.

Who knows where they”ll take me.

- Moriah

Vimy

July 7, 2011 – 11:17 pm
By danbeaudoin | Posted in 2011 Comments (0)

The other day we went to Vimy Ridge on our way to our campsite in Belgium.  I had always heard about the monument and the battle that went on here, but I really didn’t quite know what to expect.  The area was beautiful and peaceful, but had a heaviness to it.  Walking around you could still see the evidence of the battles, the landscape riddled with small and large craters.  It was incredible to think that at one point there were trenches everywhere with young men huddled together waiting for the next offensive, or the next wave of enemy soldiers.  To think of the conditions they would have lived in, with mud and rats and body parts littered everywhere, it makes me wonder how people are able to live through it.  The sacrifice of all those soldiers is incredible and thought provoking and it is heartrending to hear of how many people were killed in the battle.  Like so many of the other war sites we have seen, being at Vimy and following the steps of those who have been there before me, has made it real to me and helped me to wrap my head around the reality of what took place.


Dan