Would you call me a “downer” if I were to say sometimes studying abroad feels “normal?” Sometimes you’re just studying, in your room, while it’s raining outside, listening to music that doesn’t care where you’re sitting. You might be in New Zealand, a country that some people couldn’t even point to on a map. You might be studying notes in Albert Park, sitting underneath a gigantic palm tree — can’t do that in Minnesota — but you still get restless, distracted by shirtless frisbee players or sketches of the skyline in front of you.

While I love how familiar the scene of Berlin has become over the past (almost) two months, I was truly looking forward to the inevitable culture shock that I knew St. Petersburg would bring.  Coming to Berlin has certainly provided me with a different life than the one I carry on at home, but I was looking for a taste of something culturally jaw-dropping.  Now that I’ve returned from Russia, I can without-a-doubt say that I got what I was looking for.

Our first trip through IES – to Catania, Sicilia- was interesting to say the least. I’m not sure what to make of Sicily. Our hostel was in Catania, which didn’t give me the best impression of Sicily as a whole.. but was still an experience and fun. It was much more urban and loud and not as scenic as the other cities (Taormina and Siracusa). The nightlife in Catania was the best part of the city, but don’t expect anything fancy. We found a dollar shots place that we ended up at both nights, and danced and sang to 90s rock all night, and had the time of our lives.

Last week, I went on the IES  Cultural Trip to Bologna. We escaped a very rainy Siena early Friday morning and arrived in the food capital

Bologna

I began the actual observation portion of my clinical observation internship this past week in the Urgent Care unit of Hospital Sótero del Rio. The building was incredibly different from any hospital I had seen before. Between the dimly lit corridors, the glassless windows, and the holes riddling the peeling plaster walls, this hospital clearly lived up to its reputation as being one of the poorest in the city. The waiting room doubled as the examination room with only a musty red curtain separating the waiting crowd from the rickety examination table.

A few days ago my mother emailed me this: “If you weren’t from New York, you would never come home.”

My friends constantly rag on me for comparing everything to New York. The trees, the traffic, the trains. And I can get how it can be annoying. The river near Prague really isn’t anything like the Hudson Valley. The Alps aren’t really anything like the Adirondacks. The Brussels subway isn’t really anything like New York’s. They are all better (sorry, New York).