Category: Semester

Posted by James

In a 4 month study abroad program, there are bound to be some instances of trouble and failed plans. And this weekend bore witness to the first of mine.
4:50 am Saturday, September 17th
Knock, knock….knock, knock……KNOCK!
I roll out of bed and go to the door. My friend Cannon is there backpack on, fully dressed, ready to go.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I woke up an hour ago. I’ve just been trying to get some sleep.”

I start getting dressed and collecting my vital items: Eurail pass, passport, and Borussia Dortmund tickets. By 5:30am the two of us are in downtown Metz, at the Metz-Ville Gare (train station) waiting for our first of three trains for the day. The plan for this weekend was as follows: Borussia Dortmund Soccer game followed by Oktoberfest in Munich. We were looking forward to being in Munich for the start of the festival and to experience some truly unique European culture. Alas, things didn’t go our way.
12:30 pm Saturday, September 17th
The first sign of things taking a toll for the worse came when we entered Dortmund. Cannon had booked our hostel just days before. Originally we were planning to spend Saturday evening in Munich and sleep there. However, all hostels and hotels were booked across the board for the festival. Yet once in the train station we looked up where our hostel was in Dortmund. It was far outside the city center and quick a trek to get there. One tram and a 2 kilometer hike later, we found our quaint Airbnb on a German hillside. Our host, Thomas was very polite; however it was he who opened our eyes to the failed planning.

As we were telling him our plans, he asked “When are you going to Munich tomorrow?”

“Our train leaves at 4am” I answered.

“Oh no, you’re not going to make that, you have to get to the city from here and the earliest train is 8am!” My eyes met Cannon’s, and we both had a moment of silence. Still, we couldn’t think about that now, we had a game to get to.

15:30pm Saturday, September 17th at Signal Iduna Park (Dortmund)
As the teams kicked off a local match, the famed “best soccer atmosphere in Europe” was not disappointing. We were lucky enough to get tickets in the infamous “Yellow Wall,” the Dortmund Home fans section. And as thousands of supporters piled in screaming, chanting, waving flags, and stumbling off beers the atmosphere was truly remarkable. We didn’t have to wait long for the first goal: 7 minutes in and Dortmund took the lead. While that may have been the only goal for that half, Dortmund came out strong in the second and scored 5 more! Cannon and I each caught a goal on camera. Enjoy below:

And now, as I sit on the train ride back from Dortmund I find myself in a position to give advice. While the GTL schedule may seem easier GT-Atlanta’s, the contrary may be true. Strapped with AE homework, Cannon and I planned late and consequently missed out on one of the best festivals in Europe. The 3-day weekends can be both a blessing and a curse. For current and future GTL students, maintain a steady consistent work week and always plan well in advance.

Posted by James

May 28th, 2011. The day of the famed Champions League Final between FC Barcelona and Manchester United FC. I remember talking to my friends at school, “Rooney is going to score 2 goals, Messi will get one back but it will be too late in the end. I got Manchester United (United) winning it all!”

“Really?” My friend Mark wasn’t convinced. He thought Barcelona (Barca) would prevail and sadly they did winning 3-1. Long before this UEFA (Union of European Football Associations) final I was a huge fan of Manchester United. It is often considered one of, if not the biggest clubs in the world. Many people who side with United are considered “band-wagon” fans, just picking the winning team for a change. Not me! I fell in love with United because of Wayne Rooney, the prolific goal scoring machine and arguably England’s best player for the last decade.

As a kid, we didn’t have access to the fancy “European” sports channels, so I grew familiar with his work by the likes of YouTube and other internet sources. I remember watching him play, always so intelligent, decisive, powerful: the complete Striker. Rooney was my idol, I would always try to emulate his playing style whenever I played soccer. His style was my ideal way of playing so naturally I gravitated to him. And that sad day in late May as I cheered for United’s equalizer and then cried as moments later as Messi and Barca stole the cup marked an important moment for me.

Following this day, the US began investing massive amounts of money into the English Premier League. So for the next 5.5 years I would began seeing more of my favorite team and favorite player. Waking up early mornings and annoying my parents as I cheered for goals year after year. Yet despite the increased coverage I always felt like something was missing. To cement yourself as a real United fan one must make the famed pilgrimage to Old Trafford -their mighty home stadium. So when I decided I would be studying abroad this semester, this was one of my first concerns and largest trip budgets.
And this last weekend, my dream of seeing the Red Devils live at home finally came true. As the week progressed I remember feeling more and more nervous that something might go wrong, I’d miss the bus, or plane, the tickets might not arrive, something felt off. And then it hit, it just felt too good to be true. Something I’ve dreamt of for years was finally coming true.

Friday, September 9th
“Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, CHIRP, CHIRP!” My alarm sounds. I snooze knowing its 4 am. A couple minutes later I drag my corpse-like body out of my bed and begin getting ready. Today my dream is coming true!! Yet right now all I can think about is sleep. After only a few hours of sleep, I begrudgingly pack my bag and run through my checklist. As I come out of the bathroom I look at my watch. 5:10?? The bus! I grab my passport and tickets and burst out the door of Lafayette. As I board the 1st, then 2nd bus, then the train to Paris something begins to change in me. With each step of my journey completed the dream starts to become reality. Finally, I make it to the airport and walk on to my plane all smiles.

As I exit my cab and walk into the best hostel I’ve ever seen, I suddenly tense up: now the moment of truth. Did my tickets arrive? I walk up to the receptionist and begin checking-in. I “casually” mention that I bought tickets to the Manchester Derby and that they should have arrived. She notices my conflicting emotions of joy and anxiety. Finally she returns from the stockroom with an envelope in her hand, and my heart legitimately skips a beat. I began thanking her, probably too much, as I open up my package, once again all smiles.

Saturday, September 10th: The Manchester Derby
I wake casually around 10, shaking the night before. Late into the day, the true ability of football was witnessed as I became good “mates” with someone from my

hostel. His name was Sam, and he had flown 31 hours all the way from Sydney, Australia for this game. We both grab some traditional English breakfast and start making our way down to the game. The first timers and foreigners become interspersed among the locals in the massive crowds as we approach the stadium. As we near, we hear the singing and chants of the local United fans, all “preparing” for the game.

As Sam and I round the corner we see it! Old Trafford, instantly we both become children jumping up and down and shoving each other with excitement. “Oh my god, will you look at this Sam!” My heart is racing, blood pumping we begin a fast sprint to the stadium. As we find our separate gates and wish each other a good match, time stops. I scan my ticket and walk through the gate.

The security guard says, “Welcome to Old Trafford, and thank you.” As I move through the gate I almost yell, “No THANK YOU SIR!” And what happens next no words can truly describe, seeing that stadium gradually fill with fans, then eventually the players can’t be put into words, certainly not by mine. And while we did not win the match, much like back in 2011, it was a life changing moment. I can still hear the iconic roar and chants of fans throughout the game. One moment that will always stay with is linked below, click to experience a little of the Red Devils at Old Trafford.

Posted by James.

And the EE’s have it! It appears that more than half of our RA staff is comprised of electrical engineers. I’m not sure what the qualities of this major have to do with being helpful, speaking foreign languages and wanting to be an RA; however, we won’t ask questions. Our second edition of this issue is Angel Sanchez a 3rd year electrical engineer.
Like Lara, Angel also speaks another language besides English. He doesn’t quite speak six languages, just the one – Spanish. However, Angel is fluent in Spanish because he was born in Cali, Colombia. As the son of two immigrants, I have firsthand experienced that your life isn’t the same as an average American. Angel’s experience is an even greater amplification of this statement. He moved to Georgia at the age of five. When asking Angel about his childhood he responded by saying, “Being from Colombia has really affected my life. I grew shy in part because of the language barrier.” Angel struggled with English up until middle school. At this point in his life, Angel became more outgoing and is continuing to better this aspect of himself. This brings him to GTL.
A common theme I am picking up on from our RA’s is a sense of community. Each has their own aspirations of building a better living, learning, friendship environment here at GTL. Angel is no different. What drew him to being one of our Resident Advisors was the ability to resolve conflict. He states “being an RA gives me the opportunity to resolve conflict and therefore build a better community. This aspect could once again stem from his birth, as Colombia has been dealing with conflict issues for several decades and perhaps Angel wishes to hone his skills to one day help his homeland.

Angel is looking to host social events throughout the semester for both the students and faculty of GTL in an effort to create new friendships and once again, a better community. This sense of “closeness” was one of the many things I looked forward to this semester. Angel understands this the same, being such a small group of students of only 150 or so compared our normal fifteen thousand plus back in Atlanta is a great opportunity to make lifelong friendships. (The friendships that are formed by taking 3am trains together to Amsterdam for instance.) It seems that this sense of community is a core moral of Angel’s, even contributing to his choice of major.
Like Lara once again, Angel originally became interested in Electrical Engineering due to its vast impact in the real world. “I like how electricity is involved in almost everybody’s life.” However, unlike Lara, Angel seems to be driven by this sense of community in terms of his future goals. Angel loves the challenge of such a hard major and strives to create a better world using his knowledge, as he’d be “improving the technology most people use.” He would like to get a job that focuses on semiconductors and/or computers.
In closing, I’ll leave you with some wise words from Angel. In our efforts to understand foreign culture and its people understand the differences and appreciate them. “Being Colombian has also taught me to be more thankful for the things I have. I get reminded every time I go visit Colombia and see the poverty so many people struggling financially!” Be proud of where you come from and the roots that hold you, but also extend olive branches to others and perhaps they will do the same for you.

Posted by James

I never know how to start these things when I go on a great trip or weekend excursion. How do you begin? What really signifies the beginning of those moments? Travelling somewhere is half the battle, and therefore half the story.

Thursday, 9/1
“Yeah, we’ll be heading downtown in probably 35 minutes, maybe grab some food before the train. You’re welcome to join us since you’re not going out this weekend.”
“Great. I’ll hang out with you guys before the train.”
It’s 5pm on Thursday in Metz. Class has just finished and our first true study abroad weekend is calling our names. Since we’re taking an overnight to Amsterdam with a few stops along the way, we head downtown to say goodbye to Metz for the weekend. We head directly to a nice corner of town we have been discovering over the past few days, and we are quite ready for the weekend to start.

Friday, 9/2 (7 hours later)
“Uhhh, when is this train gonna get here? I can’t deal with this guy anymore!”
“It’ll be here at three, calm down.”
I’ve been sitting on this bench for what feels like two days. My legs are pounding, I haven’t felt circulation in them for a while. It’s 1:30 am somewhere in Germany. After three train switches and one very close call we’ve made it to our last train, for Amsterdam Central. A bum keeps circling us scrounging for paper in trashcans to light the cigarettes slowly killing him. Every so often he asks my friend for a light. Each time coughing up half his will to live.
“Caugh, chhhhk, sigh!” The train eventually comes to our savior whisking us deep into the night.
This is our train to get sleep on. 7 hours and many short naps later we’re in Amsterdam, or The Old New York, as I’ll think about it from now on. Its 9:40am on the first Friday of September for this city. We step out of our train met with a barrage of dynamic and energetic movement. From every angle the city begins to pour its aura into us. We start to wake up and by the time we leave the train station, were pumped.

We still have a few hours till check-in, so we begin roaming. With people everywhere, the New York taxi is replaced with the original fast travel-bicycle. The city is home to hundreds, if not thousands of bicyclists. Walking only a few blocks it is clear to see and feel, that the lights and tempo of this city run on the bikes’ hearts. Huge crowds of people are everywhere, no matter where we turn we are met with accents from all groups, English, French, German, Dutch, Spanish, American, etc. You can almost instantly tell the tourists from the locals. The locals are always in a hurry and used to the constant crowds and seem quite annoyed by it all.

The average tourist, we are taken aback. The city is so beautiful!
A mixture of ancient architecture and culture with the most modern thinking and progressiveness. Walking the city, you see its influence on teens and adults alike. Sitting on the edges of canals is often a giveaway. Here the stereotypical circle can be seen, and they all seem to be at peace, enjoying the moment and the feeling of the city.
After taking a quick tour, we meet our friend’s friend Bo in the outskirts of the city. He takes us to Local Park to play Frisbee and relax. The day seems to fade away as we go deeper into the city. Along the way he reveals the ways of his culture and people to us slowly. “This is so foreign to me, this military before drinking…” We’ll go on to try and defend our American laws, but by the end Bo has us convinced: that not all systems are flawless, and it is good to experiment.

Saturday, 9/3
I hear the clamor of people in the streets below us. Opening my eyes I see that were in the hostel. The rest of last night starts to make it back to me, the park and walking all the way across town at 1 am. I look at my watch, 12 pm. Its noon! Already? I wake up my mates and we funnel out of our tower that is a hostel. Stepping onto the street you cannot help but feel a little crowded. The cramped staircase makes you forget where you are.
“Whacha wanna do today guys? Rembrandt -Rijks Museum?”
We start for the Rijk’s museum after breakfast. The city seems angrier today. People move past us in a blur. We fight through the crowds for a good long struggle.
Eventually finding our way at the foot of a huge building. We enter with only a few hours left till closing. While my friends stay behind looking at smaller paintings I scurry towards the Dutch masters. I finally run into a room and see, REMBRANDT in gold letters above me. As I make eye contact with his work I’m transported. I feel the city: its people, accents, energy, all of it weigh on my shoulders. Here in this moment I see the painted scene before me unraveling. Each work I look at connects with me this way, a war between two naval armadas, I see the before and after of the painted moment. Likewise with military portraits, all the men clamoring to get in place and look manly as the artist aggressively attacks the canvas wanting to get this over with. I find my way to Van Gogh’s self-portrait. I see him looking through me, not at me. He looks at the mirror as he paints himself. Always in good view to himself, understanding who he is and where he comes from. Amsterdam much like that moment gave me more than just a good weekend, it gave me a new layer that has for a while been hidden.