Life in Europe had been extraordinarily eventful for the next 23 days since I my arrival. To pick up where I left off, I arrived at Kasteel Well closer to 10 p.m., after spending a near fortune on a cab ride that could not be overturned. I had been informed that a ride directly to the castle would cost $100, but it ended up costing closer to $400, a matter I never did bring to the attention of the Study Abroad Program Director upon my return to the college in the fall.
The castle was not as tall as was pictured in the brochures, but immensely gratifying in its grandeur. I kept expecting Shrek to appear in front of me, but he never did. Instead, the cuckoo bird living in the tree that branched over the moat serenaded me. Upon opening the door to the dormitory, I quickly realized that the grounds of the castle would be its aesthetic highlight. I was given a single room, normally a Resident Assistant’s room, which was adjacent to the entry door of the dormitory. Each time a student strolled into her room, this door would bang shut and wake me during the middle of the night. I was privileged to get my own sink, unlike most of the other twelve students residing with me at the castle, but we all shared the two showers across from my room.
The morning following my lengthy travel to the castle, I realized I had slept better than I had in a very long time. This was short-lived following the first excursion on Thursday, a Netherlands holiday and a day off from our studies. Stocking up on both soft and hard drugs on a visit to Amsterdam, the remaining days and nights were uneasy with the bulk of students being irresponsible and consistently high. There were a few exceptions, but these four students had their own issues, such as being high maintenance personalities. I suddenly drifted back to grade school memories in the company of these juveniles.
Desperate for companionship with someone my age, I turned to the staff at the castle. Two Resident Coordinators, who were younger than me, but older than my fellow Castle Dwellers, gave little to my feeling enriched in conversation. They both had limited English skills, along with having a Dutch mentality, which was completely liberal and somewhat lazy-minded. The Academic Coordinator, Chester, was a very petite Chinese man who turned out to be my closest confidante, especially on excursions when we would be the first up for morning coffee in the hotel lounge. Our friendship began on our first excursion related to our studies, in Bruges, Belgium. Chester remained with our group, along with our teacher and the Director of the Program, Dulcia.
Dulcia is one of the most intelligent, well-rounded, liberal women I’ve ever met in my life. This is not to say that I honestly adore her, like most of the students. In fact, when I first met her at the castle, I thought she might be a vampire. She has teeth that seem too big for her mouth, and her eyeteeth protrude. I admire her for her work and the life she’s built for herself, but there is something edgy in her strictness of teaching that I do not appreciate. An example of this unappreciated teaching skill was her announcement of reading presentations. She wanted to be sure all students read the material given to them, but I found this insulting when I was instantly called to present without warning. The remaining presentations were assigned and the students given time to prepare. I was not, and I am sure this will affect my grade. A constant thought filled my mind in relation to the reading, which was that we all paid $5,300, plus airfare and expenses, to participate in the study program. If anyone chose not to read, they would forfeit a lot of money for partying privileges.
Three days into my European adventure, I rented a bike from a shop around the corner from the castle. The man who owned the shop looked like Gepetto from "Pinocchio," and the bike looked as if it were taken from the set of "The Sound of Music." I rented my bike for one month. Netherlanders ride bikes a lot. Biking is easier on the flat land, and life is peaceful and easygoing in Well, as long as you disregard the Brothels you pass every half mile. Each night for dinner, our group would ride bikes about two miles past the castle to the restaurant assigned to cook our dinner. We would drink wine, eat freshly baked bread, and wonder what strange meal would be served to us next. That was when I ate Schnitzel for the first time. It was actually pretty tasty, but later, I claimed to be a vegetarian, after twice being served baseball-sized globs of boar meat. Ok, so now I eat fish!
Every other morning, I took a run alongside a serene river, on a bike route, past horses grazing in the morning light and vast amounts of farmland with budding produce.
The architecture of Bruges was breathtaking in its medieval structure, but what I most enjoyed, aside from the waffles, was the fact that I had a private room in the hotel. I still heard the students late at night, but not as intrusively as I had at the castle. My focus was on taking as many photographs of Bruges as was physically possible, and I succeeded in doing so. Leaving Bruges was a little sad for me, as I was not looking forward to going back to the castle. My mindset had changed from feeling uncomfortable and a little irritated, to feeling like I was in a prison, yet experiencing Europe at the same time.
Our next excursion was a few days later, upon our return from Bruges. It was time to compare Bruges to Venice, Italy during the Renaissance period. It was also my first experience on an overnight train, which proved to be immensely difficult for me — sleeping in a six-person couchette with strangers who smelled funny.
The castle was not as tall as was pictured in the brochures, but immensely gratifying in its grandeur. I kept expecting Shrek to appear in front of me, but he never did. Instead, the cuckoo bird living in the tree that branched over the moat serenaded me. Upon opening the door to the dormitory, I quickly realized that the grounds of the castle would be its aesthetic highlight. I was given a single room, normally a Resident Assistant’s room, which was adjacent to the entry door of the dormitory. Each time a student strolled into her room, this door would bang shut and wake me during the middle of the night. I was privileged to get my own sink, unlike most of the other twelve students residing with me at the castle, but we all shared the two showers across from my room.
The morning following my lengthy travel to the castle, I realized I had slept better than I had in a very long time. This was short-lived following the first excursion on Thursday, a Netherlands holiday and a day off from our studies. Stocking up on both soft and hard drugs on a visit to Amsterdam, the remaining days and nights were uneasy with the bulk of students being irresponsible and consistently high. There were a few exceptions, but these four students had their own issues, such as being high maintenance personalities. I suddenly drifted back to grade school memories in the company of these juveniles.
Desperate for companionship with someone my age, I turned to the staff at the castle. Two Resident Coordinators, who were younger than me, but older than my fellow Castle Dwellers, gave little to my feeling enriched in conversation. They both had limited English skills, along with having a Dutch mentality, which was completely liberal and somewhat lazy-minded. The Academic Coordinator, Chester, was a very petite Chinese man who turned out to be my closest confidante, especially on excursions when we would be the first up for morning coffee in the hotel lounge. Our friendship began on our first excursion related to our studies, in Bruges, Belgium. Chester remained with our group, along with our teacher and the Director of the Program, Dulcia.
Dulcia is one of the most intelligent, well-rounded, liberal women I’ve ever met in my life. This is not to say that I honestly adore her, like most of the students. In fact, when I first met her at the castle, I thought she might be a vampire. She has teeth that seem too big for her mouth, and her eyeteeth protrude. I admire her for her work and the life she’s built for herself, but there is something edgy in her strictness of teaching that I do not appreciate. An example of this unappreciated teaching skill was her announcement of reading presentations. She wanted to be sure all students read the material given to them, but I found this insulting when I was instantly called to present without warning. The remaining presentations were assigned and the students given time to prepare. I was not, and I am sure this will affect my grade. A constant thought filled my mind in relation to the reading, which was that we all paid $5,300, plus airfare and expenses, to participate in the study program. If anyone chose not to read, they would forfeit a lot of money for partying privileges.
Three days into my European adventure, I rented a bike from a shop around the corner from the castle. The man who owned the shop looked like Gepetto from "Pinocchio," and the bike looked as if it were taken from the set of "The Sound of Music." I rented my bike for one month. Netherlanders ride bikes a lot. Biking is easier on the flat land, and life is peaceful and easygoing in Well, as long as you disregard the Brothels you pass every half mile. Each night for dinner, our group would ride bikes about two miles past the castle to the restaurant assigned to cook our dinner. We would drink wine, eat freshly baked bread, and wonder what strange meal would be served to us next. That was when I ate Schnitzel for the first time. It was actually pretty tasty, but later, I claimed to be a vegetarian, after twice being served baseball-sized globs of boar meat. Ok, so now I eat fish!
Every other morning, I took a run alongside a serene river, on a bike route, past horses grazing in the morning light and vast amounts of farmland with budding produce.
The architecture of Bruges was breathtaking in its medieval structure, but what I most enjoyed, aside from the waffles, was the fact that I had a private room in the hotel. I still heard the students late at night, but not as intrusively as I had at the castle. My focus was on taking as many photographs of Bruges as was physically possible, and I succeeded in doing so. Leaving Bruges was a little sad for me, as I was not looking forward to going back to the castle. My mindset had changed from feeling uncomfortable and a little irritated, to feeling like I was in a prison, yet experiencing Europe at the same time.
Our next excursion was a few days later, upon our return from Bruges. It was time to compare Bruges to Venice, Italy during the Renaissance period. It was also my first experience on an overnight train, which proved to be immensely difficult for me — sleeping in a six-person couchette with strangers who smelled funny.
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