My Semester Abroad

Yesterday we grabbed some apples for breakfast and headed off to Rosslyn Chapel. I've definitely had my kilt quota filled; you pass all these bagpipe players on the street wearing their traditional garb. The Chapel, built in 1446, has, I believe, the first documented instance of a bagpipe player (adorning the top of one of the stone pillars). Everything inside is so ornate — carved flowers on the ceiling and twisting columns supporting the roof.

JANE PENG / SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Roof of Rossyln Chapel, May 25, 2006

They recently built a roof to cover the Chapel to protect it from the rain, but it only destroys the view from the outside. Inside, it feels like you are entering another century filled with medieval saints and the Knights Templar.

JANE PENG / SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Edinburgh at night from Calton Hill, May 25, 2006

Later we walked up Calton Hill and got an amazing view of the city. It's a great place to gaze at clouds and the Palace of Holyroodhouse, where the Queen of England vacations every summer.

This morning Jane went off to Dundee and I scouted out some museums with Laura. She was leaving Edinburgh a couple hours after us to fly back home to Spokane. I saw Dolly the sheep in the Royal Museum of Scotland - she's been stuffed and is standing on a revolving platform, which I found slightly distasteful. I don't see why they have to make such a spectacle of her. The museum had some really good exhibits though, and more stuffed birds than I've ever seen in my life.

JANE PENG / SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Edinburgh at night from Calton Hill with the Greek Acropolis in the foreground, May 25, 2006.

We surveyed the city from the top of the Royal Museum of Scotland as the rain fell lightly and made my fleece damp.

"I'm really going to miss it here," Laura said, and I nodded, because I realized that I will be leaving London soon. I will really miss London! And I just met this guy, and now I am going back to Seattle in two weeks! It's funny how life works like that.

When my alarm went off at 3:30 a.m., I hit snooze. Then I realized I couldn't do that because I had to catch a flight to Edinburgh in a few hours. I have been so deprived of sleep this week: I've been playing in Frisbee tournaments, finishing papers and celebrating the end of term. I managed half a bowl of cereal before Jane knocked on my door, but I got my act together and we walked briskly to the bus stop. The bus was late and we nearly missed the train from Victoria Station to Gatwick airport. Jane and I were happy just to find a seat! London is empty early in the morning but the train was filled with travellers and suitcases.

Laura, the friend I explored Poland with, let us stay at her flat and showed us around the city. Edinburgh is massively green; it rains off and on continually. First we sought shelter in The Elephant House, the cafe where J.K. Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book. They have excellent coffee and little elephants everywhere; it would be a great place to wile away the afternoon with a good book (Harry Potter, perhaps?) and a mound of croissants.

I think I unintentionally offended a Scot at our next stop: St. Giles' Cathedral. The gift shop had postcards and key chains of shaggy, auburn and long-horned creatures everywhere.

"Are there many yaks in the area?" I asked the lady behind the counter, motioning toward a little yarn duplicate on the counter. Oh, she did not like that!

"Those are highland cows," she said, stiffening. Only she said it more like "hielan' koos" because she had the most brilliant Scottish accent.

JANE PENG / SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Edinburgh Castle, May 24, 2006

Jane and I spent the rest of the windy day wandering around Edinburgh Castle learning about the Scottish crown jewels, cannons, uneven cobblestones (which were beautiful but hard to walk on, especially since I just pulled a muscle in my foot playing Frisbee) and seeing that amazing, yellowy green vegetation around the cityscape. The castle rests on a craggy hill and provides a great view of the city and its monuments. It's hard to get lost here- each part of the city is unique enough to identify later.

Today was my madre's (host mother) birthday — also known as a great event for insight into the psyche of Argentine women. This country, more specifically Buenos Aires, is known as the "plastic surgery capital of the world." The guests at the dinner party were known to me as "the blonde," "the one with the car," "the one who had surgery," "the dark skinned one," and "the one whose ex-husband works in the public spaces office in the government."

We went to a lovely restaurant, and it was great, but at the same time obvious that everything that occurred was happening so that it could be regurgitated in a fabulous story later.

We talked about plastic surgery, the shirts everyone had recently purchased (save me), the money my madre had just received for her birthday and what shoes she would buy with it. We watched with great anticipation as men entered the restaurant, as most of the women present were single. My madre was quick to point out that there was an Asian person in the large group of men for me to look at.

I quickly grew tired of the trivial topics of conversation, and also of having to translate them in my head and tuned out. Luckily for me the food, like most meals out in Argentina, was fabulous. My taste buds distracted me while my ears tried to tune out the din of Argentine superficiality.

This past week I've mostly been holed up in my room or cafes working on my papers and then dashing out at night when I can't stand sitting still any longer. I'm alternating my nights out between salsa classes and intensive football-watching. (And by football, of course, we mean soccer, not that silly thing Americans play.)

Yasemin and I had to check out three pubs before we finally found a little Italian restaurant that had satellite TV and was playing the Milan-Roma game. The top floor was so crowded we could barely see the screen, so the owner let us go down to the basement and join the crowd down there. Downstairs was even more packed, but at least there were chairs! Pretty much everyone except for us spoke Italian, and they were all spontaneously bursting out into cheers and taunts.

The Arsenal-Barcelona game was even more intense. We had to squeeze against the wall and watch out for overly jubilant fans jumping and spilling their drinks. Arsenal lost 2-1, which really made all the Tottenham fans rejoice. Brutal.

I want to start by saying how much I love Argentina and the Argentine people. This is the kindest country I have ever visited. When my Mom and I went to Thailand we raved about how kind the people there were, but the Thais will be nice to you and smile the biggest smile you have ever seen no matter if they love or hate you. With the Argentines you know if you are inconveniencing someone, if your presence is not exactly welcome, but they will go out of their way to help you regardless. I would move here in a heartbeat.

That said, people here are the most racist I have ever encountered. Argentina, comprised of mostly European immigrants, has a huge superiority complex. Most people down here consider Argentina to be more of a European country than a South American one. The racism here comes in the form of graffiti on buildings, casual conversations on the street, and even in formal or friendly situations. When my Mom was down here visiting, we went out to dinner with a friend from Argentina the topic turned to my boyfriend. I mentioned that he was Chinese; our friend then turned to my Mom and said, "It could be worse." We were astonished and had nothing to say in response.

A friend from my program arrived early for Spanish class one day and shared with us a racist joke she had seen on the news ticker on the subway on her ride to school. And today I witnessed a conversation between two intellectuals, one a principal of a school, and the other a teacher, in which the principal referred to the entire population of another Latin American country as "little animals." It pains me to keep quiet in circumstances like this, but I know that there is little I can do, as an outsider, in the face of generations of school-taught racism.

I just returned from my spring break trip; we had five flawless days in Salta and Jujuy, two provinces in the northwest of Argentina. For me it was a little tease for the trip I will be taking after my program is over, so it was nice to do it on someone else's bill. Each region I visit in Argentina is my new favorite.

RIANA HENSEL/SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Parque Nacional de los Cardones, May 3, 2006.

The region is mostly high desert, filled with breathtaking hills, valleys and the famous Cardon cactus. We visited a nice combination of small towns and provincial capitals. My favorite small town was Tilcara, where José made us an amazing lunch before we headed to the town market. The lunch started with local goat cheese heated up, covered in herbs and olive oil. For the main course we had a choice between local spinach gnocchi with spinach

RIANA HENSEL/SPECIAL TO THE SEATTLE TIMES

Famous cactus in the north of Argentina, in the Parque Nacional de los Cardones, May 3, 2006.

sauce or a quinoa dish. Being obsessed with quinoa, a regional alternative to rice, I jumped on the quinoa
bandwagon and dragged my unsuspecting group mates with me. I promised they wouldn't be disappointed and they weren't. The combination of saffron, fresh red peppers, mushrooms, parsley and fresh goat cheese was lindo (beautiful).

Right when you think London weather is blossoming and wonderful and oh so warm, you go out and play Frisbee only to come home soaked. What happened?!? It's like I'm back... in Seattle!

After practice I headed over to my distant relative's house to collect some travel books from his extensive library. At the end of May, I'm off to Edinburgh to see if men in kilts are overrated and then to Paris to see how far I can get without speaking French. Some friends are desperately trying to instruct me in the French language, but they only know random things like "the lift is not working." Maybe I'll get some language tapes and learn how to order elaborate meals.

After letting me select several books, my relative dropped me off at the Mornington Crescent tube station on his way to a music store, but the station was closed and he had driven away before I could flag him down. There I was, in the rain. Had a nice walk to Camden Town's underground stop, though. And now I know a great place to buy falafel. Wandering is really the best way to get around this city.

In spite of much surprising criticism about paying to see the Dalai Lama on Sunday I went on a little religious pilgrimage. The talk I attended was titled "Inner Peace and Universal Peace" — it was the topic that interested me most, and I feel like I could gain the most from.

The Dalai Lama entered to a standing ovation, which was very moving. It seems to me that these days the only people who get standing ovations for just entering a room are rock stars; it was a refreshing change. He spoke of war, and education reform, and said that he thinks that one of the main causes of societal problems is a lack of love in families.

He was such a calm and peaceful presence — such a joy to share two and a half hours with. He had the most infectious little giggle I have ever heard. My two favorite quotes: "Human intelligence can be constructive or destructive; it depends on the motives of the heart."

Followed later by: "I do my best."

Yesterday I went with Eric and Elijah to the Dashanzi artist commune here in Beijing. We had been there the day before on a class trip but we felt like we had not gotten chance enough to explore all of the galleries there.

It's a remarkable place. It used to be a giant factory but that went out of business and the land, which was on the edge of town, was purchased very cheaply by artists. Since then it has blossomed into a cool, quirky neighborhood with studios, exhibitions, and even artists' residences all inhabiting the dusty warehouses.