Oh its my shillelagh you’re laughing at?

This is the first of what I hope many, many captivating blogs will be published here on the Daily Nexog. I’m currently writing to you from Dublin, Ireland. For me, this is not just a travel-blog. I set off with three ships, La Nina, La Pinta, and La Santa Maria, in search of a continent that millions of people have already discovered. I hoped to trade and make friends with the locals to get their spices. And I hope to pass on my findings to you!

Ah yes, the Land of Eire, the Big Green, The Land of Rain and Bog. All miserable nicknames aside, I’ve been having the absolute best time of my young life living here for the past seven months. I only hope that more Santa Barbarians decide to step out of their sun-shiny comfort zone and take a chance on this place.

I came to Ireland like all Americans with fair skin-coloring and a valid passport: to get in touch with my roots, to live where my ancestors lived, to experience idyllic Ireland, and so on and so forth. Like almost all Americans, I can claim some uncle on my mother’s side twice removed to have lived somewhere in County Clare or something, so Ireland was the only place in the world I could see myself living abroad. On a more serious note, my mom lived in Ireland 30 years ago when she was a young-one like I was, and I was eager to share in her experience. (more…)

Interview with Rebelution in Lyon

“Yeah, that’s definitely lamb…” I told Rory and Wesley as we all took bites into Marley’s mystery meat samosas – trying to end the “what the hell is that?” debate.

I don’t know about you, but I never imagined in a million years that that was how I’d be meeting the boys of Isla Vista’s own Rebelution for the first time. But I also never imagined in another million years (if you’re keeping count, that’s two million years of never imagining) that I’d be meeting them for the first time in Lyon, France – where I’ve been studying abroad since August. What were the odds, right?

In the case that last weekend’s DP-Topia has caused you some form of Natty Light-induced short-term memory loss and you can’t quite figure out why the name “Rebelution” sounds so familiar – I’ll try to refresh your memory in one sentence or less (well not really “less,” unless I write the following sentence without verbs): Rebelution is the “feel good,” roots reggae prodigy that got their start in our very own Isla Vista. Ringing any bells? I hope so, or else the rest of this article and subsequent interview isn’t going to make much sense. (more…)

Discovering What the Mayan Calendar Reads

Usually when you find these study abroad type of editorials in the Nexus, you can kinda call out what people will talk about. They go to a trendy European city, they lecture you about the world-class food that they have there, count you a short tale about the ‘exciting’ nightlife, and in the end, after comparing the place to IV, they go on to say that there is nothing like studying abroad because of the surprises it brings. I’m Chris, and I’m here studying abroad in Mexico, a country everyone including my own mother (who grew up there) warned me about coming to. I’ll try not to bore you with the same sequence of topics in my piece here. But of course, I do agree with them in one aspect: that there is nothing like studying abroad.  Mainly when you get the chance to enter places few have seen, like I have with living in a Mayan home amidst hundreds of small indigenous communities. How did this happen? Well, I guess you can say it’s like one of those surprises we students abroad often state.

Before I even left for this muddled but gorgeous neighboring country the US has, there was an anxious family back home and the expressions on some people’s faces saying: “Why the fuck are you going there?” that had me a little bit fretful about coming here. It was a whirlpool of mixed feelings I had and, reasonably, the worries stem from the current Drug War that has gotten bloodier by the month and is spreading across ‘la republica’. You can even argue that it’s spread into the hands of the US as well, as just not too long ago three US embassy workers were assassinated. There was that topic, and there was also the one about swine flu. This was constantly brought up every time I answered the question of where I was going to studying abroad. I always found the theme of swine flu to be a bit funny and ironic since the chances of getting it in IV were perhaps the same as they are here (If you would recall the numerous cases last summer). Up until this day, almost exactly 3 months since I arrived here, still no swine flu and fortunately, I haven’t run into any problems with the drug cartels. So, what exactly has this choice brought me to? (more…)

A Long Introduction

(And my life changed forever.)

But before I dive into that, I should go back a little further, back to the summer before sophomore year.  You all might be wondering why I chose to do two EAP programs, let alone how I ended up in two such insanely different countries.  First of all, I knew that I wanted to leave UCSB for the year, but I wanted to really try and maximize my experience and go to two different places.  Initially, I was set on doing spring 2010 in New Zealand.  I’ve been fascinated with New Zealand for a long time, and I had my heart set on going there at some point, so it seemed like a logical place to go.  And at that point, I had never been to Europe and thought that studying abroad would be a great way to experience it.  I was pretty strongly considering the U.K. until I started taking Spanish again sophomore year, and suddenly it all became clear: I surely didn’t want to go to the U.K. (that pound is such a rip off!) — I wanted to spend the fall of 2009 learning Spanish, watching flamenco, and drinking sangria! (more…)

Forget Swine Flu, It’s the Gypsy Epidemic

I like to think that I had a pretty normal childhood: finger painting, learning how to tie my shoes, setting up my first 401(k), diversifying my investment portfolio. (Normal enough, right? Come on, my mom couldn’t have been the only one who read The New Yorker to me before bed). It wasn’t until I watched Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame for the first time a few days ago that I realized that — maybe, just maybe — I was a little bit deprived as a child.

At first, I was mad that my mom never let me watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame (you bet your bottom dollar that I called her from half-way around the world to voice my complaints about how incomplete my childhood was because of this). But then I realized that it was probably in my best interest that I’d never seen this movie prior to moving to France. Why? Well, most girls my age claim that all Disney movies gave them unrealistic expectations about love (have you guys seen “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids”? That Wayne Szalinski is so dreamy). But for me, The Hunchback of Notre Dame would have given me unrealistic expectations about gypsies (yes, you read that correctly).

Think that all gypsies are beautiful Parisian belly dancers who can “see past your disfigured face and unsightly hunchback because you’re beautiful on the inside,” Esmeralda-types? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but think again. Most gypsies I’ve met in my time living in France don’t even have all of their teeth, let alone the ability to see past my hunchback (why can’t we just be friends, gypsies on the metro? Is that so much to ask?) (more…)

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