An Insider's Guide to the World

Don't leave home without reading this accumulated wisdom from Foreign Study Programs.

Giao Down

Destination: Italy Advice: Don't eat in front of Italians.

"Do you really want to eat (hat?

Seven words. Those short seven words, spoken by an Italian man with a slight pot belly, were enough to change my entire philosophy on dining in Italy.

I was there for the second time, spending the summer as a live-in nanny for a young Italian family. I remember eight-year-old Giulia's birthday cake: I had never seen a more beautiful dessert than the apple torta Granny Jenny placed on the dining room table of the house in Melegnano, Italy, just inches from my plate. There was nothing I wanted more than to eat that cake.

"Oh, but just a sliver, please, a really small piece," I said politely, noticing out of the comer of my eye that all eyes were on my plate. For the life of me, I could not figure out why everyone at that party was waiting for the edge of my fork to slice into the thick, sweet crust. Was it because they were anticipating my reaction to the heavenly dessert? Did they want to hear my praise for Granny Jenny? Did they know that I, as an American, had never seen a birthday cake quite like this? My mouth watered. I raised the fork to my mouth. Then a man with a very large piece on his plate, said to me, in thick Italian, "Are you sure you want to eat that? A girl like you needs to watch her figure, you know." I laughed, the kind of nervous laugh that can only escape when you have absolutely no idea how to react. I raised my fork again. And again he said, "Do you really want to eat that? You don't want to get fat!"

I had never considered myself "fat" at 107 pounds, but I knew then that I wasn't going to eat that cake. I got up to take my plate to the kitchen. Grannyjenny grabbed my shoulder, looking me up and down. She shook her head slightly, then told me in Italian that I was a big girl, a solid girl.

It was then that I knew the rumor about Italians loving to eat was just not always true. It was my last piece of torta for the trip.

-Dawn Conner '95

The Medium is the Massage

Destination: Hungary, with the Budapest Exchange Program Advice: When in a Budapest spa, ask for the "normal."

Budapest is known for its spas and famous baths which are supposed to feature special water with medicinal qualities (it is actually pumped in from the polluted Danube). During one of our first days in Budapest a few of us Americans decided to try out one of these places. Most of us on the Budapest Exchange Program headed to the baths across the river. We paid about two dollars for what we thought was use of the baths for the afternoon and a "massage with powder" and were given a deformed-looking piece of metal to wear around our necks as a ticket. The women headed offin one direction and we guys another. We arrived at a table where a man looked at the thing hanging around our necks, handed us loincloths, and pointed us to changing rooms. We concluded, correctly, that, we were supposed to leave our clothes and come out weiring'only these skimpy cloths—small flap in front, thin string to tie around our "waists.

We walked out to three wading pools containing waist-high water of varying temperatures. There were men of all ages and builds relaxing in the baths. We stood in the water saying, "Okay, well, this is interesting." We did not say aloud what we were thinking: about all the diseases we undoubtedly were exposing ourselves to. I decided it was time for my massage.

A friend and I headed to a small back room, where we were greeted by a large Hungarian man wearing a loincloth like mine. He looked at our tickets, directed my friend to another area outside of the baths, and beckoned me in. Alone, I entered a brightly lit, tiled room containing several yellow plastic tables. There were naked men on most of them and a few roaming around in loincloths. A man who looked like a sumo wrestler called me over in Hungarian and indicated I should remove my cloth and hop up on the table. I did as I was told; I spoke no Hungarian and couldn't tell him otherwise. He leaned down near my ear and asked me in very broken English if I wanted a "normal or very good massage," indicating that the "very good" would cost more money. "Normal," I said quickly. He walked off and returned with a garden hose in one hand and a giant bar of soap in the other. He sprayed me with warm water from the hose and began rubbing the bar of soap up my legs. Although I am very ticklish, I seem to have been too nervous to have felt the sensation of being tickled. Just missing the most embarrassing places, he continued on my stomach. Once I was all soaped up he began rubbing me from my legs up, not as firmly as I expected from a massage. Then he clapped his hands and flipped me over and did the same to my back side before hosing me down and sending me off again.

I left feeling more tense than when I arrived.

-Steve Hoffman '95

Czech Again

Destination: The Czech Republic, on the German Foreign Study Program Advice: Don't read an old atlas before going abroad.

April Whitescarver '96 and I were sharing a train compartment on our way from Frankfurt to Prague. Officials kept waking us up all .night to check our passports and tickets. We finally got to sleep for a few hours on the freezing train when a man came in yet again, yelling about passports and shining his light. While he was checking the documents April asked him, in German, if we were still in Germany or if we were now in Czechoslovakia. The man looked at us both harshly and screamed, in English, "WE ARE IN CZECHI!!!!" He was more than just a little offended that she had forgotten Czechoslovakia was now Slovakia and the Czech Republic.

-Jennifer Withers '96

Big macwith Russian Dressing

Destination: Moscow, on the Russian Foreign Study Program Advice: If you want to witness history in the former Soviet Union, try the fast-food joints.

I went on the Russian FSP and saw Yeltsin at the grand opening of the second McDonald's in Moscow.

Amy Barto '95 .

Fatting for Mexiw

Destination: Southern Mexico, with the Spanish Foreign Study Program in Puebla Advice: At least in one part of Mexico there seem to be angels.

When I was on the Spanish Department's FSP in Puebla, Mexico, I vacationed with five other Dartmouth women Judi. Flynn '95, Michelle Butler '95, Judy Hall '95, Marisol Negron '94, and Bridget Murphy '94 through the southern belt of Mexico. From Chiapas we took a day trip to Cascadasde Agua Azul (Blue Water Cascades). The Water is fresh, clean, and incredibly blue, a smaller version of Niagara Falls.

As soon as we changed into our swimsuits we decided to take a few snapshots to send back to envious friends in Hanover. One of us suggested we sit on a large rock near the center of the stream to better feature the waterfalls. Bravely, we swam over. But midway to the rock the current got too strong and I couldn't hold on. Pulled headfirst, I tried to control my terror, literally going with the flow, as I knifed down a 15-foot drop into a pool of water.

I lost all direction and was feeling my way around in the water when I suddenly felt someone grab my hips and pull me to the edge of the shore. I tried to reach out for the person but didn't see anyone around me. My friends ran over to help me out of the water, but I was already out of danger. I asked if they had seen who had pulled me out. Theysaid they hadn't seen anyone else in the area. I was too lightheaded to argue with them. They held me for a little while as I cried on their shoulders.

out of danger. I asked if they had seen who had pulled me out. They

-Brenda Rangel '95

Wa one mot amused

had the strength to swim over to the clearing several yards away with out some assistance. I still haven't figured it out. Destination: London, on the London Foreign Study Program Advice: Don't get your hopes up about seeing Buckingham Palace.

e spent hours looking for the home of Her Majesty the Queen before realizing that we had been standing in front of it the whole time. It looks as if it has been remodeled after Brooklyn's City Hall.

-Marsha Blake '96

That's a Lot for One Scarf

Destination: Aswan, Egypt, on a Rhodes Scholarship Advice: "When in Rome..." is just plain lousy advice.

Over the Christmas break in my first year as a Rhodes Scholar [see the story on page 27], I had been traveling through Egypt and Israel with two fellow scholars, Neeta and Lynn. Now we were in Aswan, a parched city in the south of Egypt and the site of Nasser's infamous dam. Roused from our filthy hotel by an early-morning earthquake, we found ourselves in the local bazaar.

A scarf caught my eye, and Lynn began to bargain. She pointed from me to the scarf and back again, throwing in a bit of broken Arabic for good measure. The merchant's face suddenly brightened. He handed the scarf over to Lynn and took hold of my wrist. "Er, Lynn," I said nervously. "What's going on here?" Lynn considered the situation for a moment. "Try not to panic,' she said evenly. But I think I may have just sold you."

The merchant, apparently pleased by his trade, was not to be deterred. Shaking his head, he refused to let me out of his grasp. Lynn, a well-muscled oars woman, decided that more drastic measures were needed. Rising to her full five-ten height, she arched herselt over the tiny Egyptian and yelled, "My sister not for sale! Leave my sisteralone!"

The merchant understood her tone, if not her English, and quickly scurried away. So did we.

-Mary Cleary Kiely '79

EACH YEAR MORE THAN 500 Dartmouth students travel to study in 17 countries. And each year, they brine back stones and cautionary tales. But first, some statistics: © Number of students studying abroad in the last academic year: 582." Dartmouth's rank in Ivy League in number of students studying aboard: 1. Percentage of Dartmouth students traveling overseas: 65. © Ratio of Dartmouth students to Harvard students studying abroad: 6:1. © Number of Dartmouth foreign study programs 40. © Number of nations hosting Dartmouth programs: 17. © Number of language terms required to participate ma Language Study Abroad Program: 2. © Most popular Foreign Study Program: Winter biological program in the Caribbean. WE ASKED some of these travelers to fill us in on some aspects of education that didn't take place in the classroom.