YEAR ABROAD: Germany
By Cathy Marsden
Monday 28th September 2009
Monday 28th September 2009
Photo.Cathy Marsden
Being an international student isn’t all fun and gluhwein... Cathy Marsden muses on the peculiar experiencing of living abroad.
I am walking through the corridors of a vast 18th century German palace, surrounded by another thirty or so, mostly female, students who all look as terrified and as dazed as I feel. The young woman at the front of the crowd, our guide in a sense, is saying something. If I try hard I can make out what she means but her voice is lost in the midst of German, English, Spanish, French, Italian, Czech, Turkish and just about every other European tongue which comes to mind. I am in a German university of 27,800 students, in a city with 314, 926 residents. I have been studying German since I was thirteen but I feel completely out of my depth here. I want to return the small ‘Bubble’ on the coast of Fife with its three streets, gale force winds and student population of just over a quarter of the size that it is here. The general feeling of homesickness combined with bewilderment, isolation and disorientation marked most of my first semester at the Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn. I had made the decision to study on my year abroad when faced with the options of trying to find a job during a (then) impending financial crisis or teaching English to unwilling German teenagers. Leaving aside the issue of whether I enjoyed the year or not, something which is purely subjective, the year was certainly very educational. Indeed, in spite of only being able to understand about 20 percent of my lectures (this had increased to around 70 percent by the end of the year) I learnt a lot, it just wasn’t about German literature or Art History! Spending a year living abroad is designed to immerse the student in a foreign culture, to teach them more about the way of life in that country and maybe even to integrate them. However I must admit that throughout my time in Germany, I felt more like an observer than a part of society. Even at the end of our stay, the four of us St Andrews girls felt like we were somehow outside the system. We did, however, become part of another, more international society. The majority of the friends I made on my year in Germany were other exchange students from other parts of the world. A Swede called Hedvig – “like the owl” she would say, a French Breton girl called Céline who took delight in cooking mountains of crêpes and Sarah, a political scientist from Mississippi. I learned what it is like to live as a non-integrated foreigner. We created our own, small international ghetto on the edges of German society. Despite trying to make German friends, it was only at the end of my stay that I succeeded in doing this and, although we all had each other in our little ghetto, I still felt a distinct sense of isolation and a lack of belonging. There were of course moments when it was intensely interesting to be the observer. The habit of knocking on the table after every class to show your appreciation of the lecturer was a tradition which took us all by surprise. A friend almost getting fined €30 (or possibly €40) for jaywalking at 8 am on a deserted street (apart from the policeman) explained the crowds of pedestrians waiting for the green man before crossing empty roads. Taking a class on Jüdische Volkskunde (Jewish cultural studies) was a great opportunity to speak to Germans about how they feel about their country’s past. This makes me wonder how international students, especially those who are only here for a year, find St Andrews. Do they feel integrated, a part of our student society or are they living on the outside, peering in? What do they find interesting, strange, enjoyable and annoying? This year, I intend to ask any international student in class who looks lost and silent out for a coffee. I am going to make a conscious effort to adopt international children. St Andrews prides itself on being a university with a strong international student body. Let’s help them feel like they belong!
I am walking through the corridors of a vast 18th century German palace, surrounded by another thirty or so, mostly female, students who all look as terrified and as dazed as I feel. The young woman at the front of the crowd, our guide in a sense, is saying something. If I try hard I can make out what she means but her voice is lost in the midst of German, English, Spanish, French, Italian, Czech, Turkish and just about every other European tongue which comes to mind. I am in a German university of 27,800 students, in a city with 314, 926 residents. I have been studying German since I was thirteen but I feel completely out of my depth here. I want to return the small ‘Bubble’ on the coast of Fife with its three streets, gale force winds and student population of just over a quarter of the size that it is here. The general feeling of homesickness combined with bewilderment, isolation and disorientation marked most of my first semester at the Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn. I had made the decision to study on my year abroad when faced with the options of trying to find a job during a (then) impending financial crisis or teaching English to unwilling German teenagers. Leaving aside the issue of whether I enjoyed the year or not, something which is purely subjective, the year was certainly very educational. Indeed, in spite of only being able to understand about 20 percent of my lectures (this had increased to around 70 percent by the end of the year) I learnt a lot, it just wasn’t about German literature or Art History! Spending a year living abroad is designed to immerse the student in a foreign culture, to teach them more about the way of life in that country and maybe even to integrate them. However I must admit that throughout my time in Germany, I felt more like an observer than a part of society. Even at the end of our stay, the four of us St Andrews girls felt like we were somehow outside the system. We did, however, become part of another, more international society. The majority of the friends I made on my year in Germany were other exchange students from other parts of the world. A Swede called Hedvig – “like the owl” she would say, a French Breton girl called Céline who took delight in cooking mountains of crêpes and Sarah, a political scientist from Mississippi. I learned what it is like to live as a non-integrated foreigner. We created our own, small international ghetto on the edges of German society. Despite trying to make German friends, it was only at the end of my stay that I succeeded in doing this and, although we all had each other in our little ghetto, I still felt a distinct sense of isolation and a lack of belonging. There were of course moments when it was intensely interesting to be the observer. The habit of knocking on the table after every class to show your appreciation of the lecturer was a tradition which took us all by surprise. A friend almost getting fined €30 (or possibly €40) for jaywalking at 8 am on a deserted street (apart from the policeman) explained the crowds of pedestrians waiting for the green man before crossing empty roads. Taking a class on Jüdische Volkskunde (Jewish cultural studies) was a great opportunity to speak to Germans about how they feel about their country’s past. This makes me wonder how international students, especially those who are only here for a year, find St Andrews. Do they feel integrated, a part of our student society or are they living on the outside, peering in? What do they find interesting, strange, enjoyable and annoying? This year, I intend to ask any international student in class who looks lost and silent out for a coffee. I am going to make a conscious effort to adopt international children. St Andrews prides itself on being a university with a strong international student body. Let’s help them feel like they belong!
