Metamorphoses In Foreign Lands

No Exit. So laments Jean Paul Sartre in his famous play, written in the 1930s. Similarly, student life at Harvard manifests this same existential predicament; there is no exit beyond Johnston or Thayer Gates.

Thus, those who break loose, transcending our iron cage, (and not just for spring break) often encounter a whole host of new experiences and perspectives.

In the past weeks, this column has recorded the active student voices resounding on campus. "Activity," however, when interpreted broadly, often entails internal personal growth and occurs in a variety of geographical locations. Whether studying for credit at foreign universities or traveling throughout South Asia, Harvard students abroad undoubtedly undergo tremendous personal transformation.

Although they are mountain climbing in Nepal, enjoying siestas in Sevilla, Spain, exploring Aztec ruins in Mexico or savoring crepes in Paris, these adventurers are currently only an e-mail message away.

For some, total cultural immersion clarifies what they appreciated about life back home, even the academic intensity. Javier Casillas '00, currently studying in Madrid, Spain, at La Universidad Complutense, waxes nostalgic for Harvard classes.

In Spain "they are taught with an excessive emphasis on memorization and with a lack of a critical viewpoint," Casillas wrote in an e-mail message.

"Rather than being provided with theories about stipulated facts, you are mostly just provided the facts," he added.

A Moveable Feast. In general, classroom learning is almost an afterthought for Americans studying abroad. As the generations of American expatriates, from Ernest Hemingway to Gertrude Stein, Class of 1898, to F. Scott Fitzgerald would attest, intellectual stimulation and creative inspiration are inherent in any foreign experience.

When I was in France this summer, I learned more from perusing the bouquinistes (the used book sellers that line the Left Bank of the Seine) than I did during a whole semester of French literature.

A Hundred Years of Solitude. Like Garcia Marquez, students abroad attempt to cultivate quiet spaces amidst their surroundings for contemplation. They often adopt a slower, relaxed schedule for the first time. Solitude can provide time for observing one's surroundings and contemplating existential questions, rather than incurring loneliness.

Sarah H. Winkeller '00 has embraced the mantra articulated the first day of classes by her Spanish history teacher in Sevilla Spain. Describing the philosophy of Andalucia, the southern region of Spain, he said, Trabajar para vivir, no vivir para trabajar."

Translated, "people here work to live, not live to work."

"I would like to take that philosophy back to Harvard with me. People here know how to enjoy life," Winkeller wrote in an e-mail message. An attempt to enhance one's quality of life often means a more relaxed pace.

Nectar in a Sieve.

Aesthetic appreciation and awareness is often part of the transformative foreign experience. Although in the current techno-capitalist society of modern America, "quality of life" is often measured in output (and appropriated by grades or high salaries), "quality" abroad refers to the direct, titillating effect of sights, smells and tastes.

From the gardens, ancient ruins and art museums, to the tastes of foreign lands, Kamala Markandaya would agree that cultures stimulate the senses in different and exciting ways. One friend currently studying in Mexico City wrote in an e-mail message that his taste buds would never recover from the various new combinations of spices his host family served him.

The Book of Confucius. Quality of life and solitude are good and well while enjoying the fine cheeses and well while enjoying the fine cheeses and wine of France or the sangria and tapas of Spain. But some Harvard students flee from the "good life" and pursue soul seeking under more rugged conditions.

Such risk-takers are influenced by the philosophies of Eastern thinkers from V. S. Naipaul to Confucius.

Colin H. Wood '00 wanted a break from the routine and rigid structure of Harvard life so he cashed in on his advanced standing and bought a one-way ticket to New Delhi, India. His free spirit has inspired him to live day-by-day, without the routines, schedules and agendas that typically keep our wanderlust in check.

"I am heading to Thailand next, and after that I have no idea where I am going or when I am coming back," he wrote to a recent e-mail message.

"I think I'll go to Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos, and then down into Malaysia and Singapore, but who knows. I love not having anything written in stone," he added.

Don Quixote. Love, passion and romance are often a welcomed component of aesthetic appreciation. From sketchy Italian men to vast Mediterranean beaches, falling in love (or at least dreaming about it) is an integral part of a heightened attention to the quality of life. From Pablo Neruda to Saavedra Miguel de Cervantes, romance has often sparked personal revelation.

So, if you, like Sartre, are searching desperately for an exit from your current Harvard routine, find a local travel agent ASAP. Heed the words and images created by the foreign poets, writers and dreamers. After all these writers have inspired generation of travelers before you.