(In photo, back row from left: Professor Christy Baily-Byers with student Cari and PRSA's Christi Chesner; front row from left: students Lauren, Julia and Catherine)

In all honesty, I could not tell you what PRSSA stood for this time last year. I remember Professor Baily-Byers mentioning something about starting up the SMU chapter again at the end of class but couldn't quite grasp the concept. (Sorry, BB!) Since then, I have not only been involved with the organization through my treasurer position but also received the many benefits it has to offer.

The most recent experience was our weekend at the PRSSA National Conference in San Diego. It was certainly eye-opening to learn that our generation has a bad reputation of feeling entitled and that our writing skills are less than stellar. Public relations professionals gave us tips and tricks in job searching, communicating with senior management and handling the financial communications in a tough economy. To top it all off, our SMU PRSSA chapter won three national awards - one for Professor Baily-Byers' work, one for our PRSA relationship and one for chapter development.

My first trip to California could not have been better. Despite the fact that I was both directionally and apparel challenged, I managed to meet my rowing idol, Olympic gold medalist Susan Francia. We happened to cross paths through a social media channel (technically, I introduced myself and asked to meet her).

It was through her generosity - and empathy - that she was willing to discuss her quest for gold in Beijing and offer advice to a rowing amateur. Our meeting will hopefully be a part of my story in my journey to the national team. I am sincerely grateful to Susan for going out of her way to meet a fan and fellow rower.

Read more about our PRSSA chapter in San Diego.

Day One

We got up at about 4 am Friday morning to catch the 6:30 flight to a small airport outside of Paris. Being cheap means you get to take a bunch of small planes without free drinks to airports about an hour outside of a major city and then catch a bus in.

Anyway, so after all of our traveling was done, we had arrived in Paris about 10:30 a.m. We surprisingly had very little trouble finding our hostel, which turned out to be a tad further away from the center of the city than we had anticipated, but luckily was right next to a metro stop (I should note briefly that all of the public transportation that I have used so far in Europe, which is in 5 different cities, pales in comparison to Madrid).

So we dropped off our bags and hit the ground running. We were able to make a nice little walking tour from our hostel down to the Seine, along the way passing a monument to the Bastille prison and catching our first glimpses of the Notre Dame cathedral.

To describe the Seine as picturesque is a bit like calling the Grand Canyon big; it's what makes the city beautiful, in my opinion; there are just no words to describe how everything about Paris wouldn't seem nearly as wonderful and elegant without the river cutting through it. We got to the Notre Dame cathedral and walked through, rubbing St. Peter's foot and looking at what is believed to be the original Crown of Thorns along the way.

We kept on walking down the Seine to the Louvre, and hung out there and enjoyed watching all of the other tourists taking the same variation of pictures involving the giant glass pyramids in the main plaza.

It was at a little street cart outside of the Louvre where I purchased the first crepe of my life. It was just a simple Nutella (the European chocolate substitute) crepe, and was truly breathtaking. I and the two other guys with whom I traveled developed the "Last Bite Concept," where we decided that our last bite of every crepe we bought should be as big and messy as possible, so that it would leave the best possible aftertaste. Needless to say, I brilliantly executed this theory a couple more times over the course of the weekend, and I really don't need to ever eat another crepe in my life - they just won't be as good.

From the main plaza of the Louvre you can see, in a scene reminiscent of the Washington Mall, all the way to the Arc de Triomphe, so we once again set off and tried to make our way down there. By this time it was getting into the evening hours, and we had all been walking all day on very little sleep, so as the skies opened up and began to unleash serious downpours on us after an hour of trekking toward the Arc, we decided to call it an afternoon and make our way back to our hostel.

After a solid power nap, we made our way back to the metro and got off for our first visit to the Eiffel Tower. I'm sure if I had read any kind of good travel book I would've been aware of the fact that it lights up on the hour at night, but the surprise and glory of that first unexpected show might've been the highlight of my trip. After an hour of sitting around the tower enjoying the cool night, we returned to the hostel for a good night's rest.

Day Two

We woke up the next morning and enjoyed our hostel's breakfast of a croissant with a variety of jams, a chocolate Danish, and a cup of hot chocolate, which hit my cold body in a delightful way. Most of our day was spent going through the Louvre, and I am very pleased with how thorough we were - and yet how I never tired of it.

I would call the Louvre the "anti-Alamo" because it is so much larger than you would ever believe in real life. The main difference I noted between it and the Prado (the national art museum of Spain), besides size, is how many different paintings that would squeeze onto a single wall. The impression it gave was that they just didn't have enough room to put their collection, even though the three different multi-storied buildings of the Louvre are spread over a space of land pretty comparable to the main part of SMU's campus.

Even though all of the rumors of Mona Lisa being disappointingly small are entirely true, there is just a certain feeling of disbelief to be looking at a cultural relic whose fame in Western society is probably matched by nothing else.

Later in the day we ventured a ways north to the part of the city known as Montmarte, where the Sacred Heart Basilica is located and is also known as being one of the best views of the city, as it sits atop quite a steep hill. The view didn't disappoint and we enjoyed getting to hear the nuns in the basilica perform their daily prayers of adoration.

What we didn't anticipate taking place there was a massive wine festival, which meant we were in the midst of about 2,500 French and other tourists in different stages of inebriation for the rest of the night, as we decided we couldn't leave the festival once we learned of the fireworks show that night.

As we waited for the show, we found a nice French restaurant and went inside, and were quickly shown the door for not having a reservation. We tried the restaurant next to it, and were given the same greeting. Finally we found a restaurant, which allowed us to dine after a 15-minute wait. This ended up being well worth it for me as my meal consisting of the house specialty quiche, house specialty French lasagna, and chocolate mousse for dessert left me quite fulfilled.

We then climbed onto the roof of an abandoned building by the festival and enjoyed the show. The show was quite different from an American fireworks show, where instead of lasting 45 minutes and at times becoming a tad monotonous, this lasted only 15 minutes and consisted entirely of grand-finale-quality fireworks.

Our next surprise came as we were sitting in the metro station, and an American young man walked up to us with a question. After a couple of minutes of conversing he introduced us to his group of friends studying in Paris and their group of French friends they were passing time with that night.

Before we knew it we were heading with this group to sit in the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower again at night. Spending that night sitting around with a group of strangers who were speaking a language of which I had no knowledge and just soaking in the wonderful Parisian night is just one of those experiences I'll never forget. I'm quite certain we'll never run into any of those people again, but I'll always be grateful that they turned a night of uncertain plans into a cultural experience I'll have with me forever.

Day Three

The next day we checked out of our hostel, but still had a few hours to kill before having to catch our bus back to the small French countryside airport. Seeing as we had not yet been to any of the major monuments on the west side of the Seine during the daytime, we hopped on the subway and started walking again.

This time we got to see the Statue of Liberty's cousin, which is situated on the end of a small stretch of land in the middle of the Seine. As we began walking on this island toward the Eiffel Tower, we noticed that on the side of the river a huge running race was taking place. We probably walked along that little island for 45 minutes, and for as far we could see along the Seine in either direction there was a giant mass of humanity, 15-20 people wide the entire way.

The race ended, like us, at the Eiffel Tower, and we finally got out daytime pictures of it while trying to navigate through a gigantic finish line and even a movie scene being filmed underneath the tower. We didn't end up having time to go up the tower, but I suppose you can't win everything.

Our last stop before catching our bus was finally making it to the Arc de Triomphe, and thankfully the clouds agreed with our pursuit this time and we wound up taking the necessary "we were there" pictures before racing to the bus and finally catching our flight.

It was quite the weekend. I feel like we couldn't have possibly tried to do more in the city, but that doesn't mean I certainly won't be willing to venture back there at some point in the future - maybe it'd be a more conducive environment for my apparently sporadic blogging.

Hasta Luego,

Eric.

Tomorrow: surfing in Portugal

Andalucia

The last week of September, all of the SMU students and about half of the San Diego students, with whom we are attending the Fundacion Jose Ortega y Gasset, ventured down to the southernmost comunidad autonoma (the Spanish version of the state or province) in Spain. It is the region home to the former Muslim Moorish empire that has shaped much of Spanish culture over the last 1,300 years. The Moors were formally expelled from Spain more than 500 years ago by the King and Queen Ferdinand and Isabella, but their influence remains to this day.

We started our trip with a 4-hour bus ride from Madrid to Cordoba. Immediately after departing the bus I realized that this was a very different place from Madrid, and it felt as if I actually was in Morocco or one of the other Moorish homelands (not that I've visited those places yet, but I've seen the pictures).

The buildings were all white, the streets were narrow, and instead of high-rise apartments and grandiose plazas, the city was filled with clusters of one- and two-story buildings that typically seemed to surround some sort of green area for leisure. The main site of historical significance there was the Mezquita (Mosque) de Cordoba. There began the trend, which held steady for the rest of our visit to Andalucia, of sites that held great Muslim importance before being converted by the Christian kings of Spain into Catholic holy places.

Later that day we hopped back on the bus and went to Seville, where we stayed the night and had the opportunity to enjoy many of the city's famous tapas bars to celebrate a our friend's 21st birthday.

The next morning we got to tour Sevilla, Andalucia's most populous city and the fourth largest in all of Spain. We visited the Reales Alcazares (Moorish term for Royal Castles), which were a series of breathtaking gardens and ornate buildings

The true gem of our visit to Sevilla was the opportunity to visit the Cathedral of Sevilla, which is the third-largest cathedral in the whole world. Like the Mezquita, it was also built on the site of a former mosque, and when it was completed in the 16th century, it was the largest cathedral in the world and was a sign of the new Christian dominance of the region. Located within the Cathedral is the tomb, which has long been disputed to hold the remains of Christopher Columbus. Whether or not the claims are true, it is more than a little surreal to stare at the tomb of possibly the most impactful person in our history.

After another night in Sevilla, we made our way to the last Moorish stronghold of Granada. As we arrived at probably the most famous Moorish monument remaining in Spain, the gigantic palace called the Alhambra, my camera decided to break, thus losing all of my pictures of my trip for the rest of time, I'm afraid.

Oh well, I trekked onward (with a slightly worse attitude admittedly) and ended up enjoying Granada probably the most of all of the cities we visited on that trip. It was highlighted by a nighttime flamenco dance performance in a bar located in a cave on the side of one of the many Sierra Nevada mountains. A group of six of us ended up staying in Granada an extra night.

Our original plan had been to rent a van and make our way back to Madrid and enjoy some of the parts of Spain (notably Valencia) that we had not yet seen. However, there was a lapse of communication on the part of the rental car company and, long story short, we found out that we would not be getting back to Madrid via minivan.

The extra night and day of seeing the city and enjoying its many tapas proved to be just as fun, and I was truly happy to be home the next day and still have a full day of rest before the start of the next week.

Tomorrow: Paris

My second day in Jerusalem consisted of a three-hour tour around the entire old city. This tour started at the Jaffa Gate. I highly recommend taking this tour. It is free, and it helps one get acquainted with the old city.

It is also noteworthy that there is a tourist office at the Jaffa Gate as well. The tour around the old city starts right in front of the tourist office. The journey took me to every major holy site within the city. I also journeyed along the Via Del La Rosa, which is the path that Christ took in his last hours.

The old city is in a constant hustle and bustle, even during holidays such as the Eid. Although many shops run by Muslims were closed, due to the Eid holiday, the city remained vibrant. As my group traced Christ's last steps, we saw many Christian groups carrying the cross as Christ did, stopping at every stop Christ made and praying.

Church bells rang, and the call to prayer echoed throughout the city. Old Jerusalem is definitely a city enriched in religion; however, people still go about their daily business. I thought it was interesting that even though Jerusalem is a city devoted to religion and tradition, it remains very open as well.

Unlike Cairo, people continue to live the lifestyle that suits them. Clothing is not an issue, except if one wishes to visit a specific holy site. Alcohol is sold everywhere. I believe the term "convivencia" does apply to the city of Jerusalem.

After the tour, my friends and I journeyed to the Mount of Olives, where we visited the Garden of Gethsemane and the Jewish cemetery. My favorite part, however, was the amazing panoramic view of the Haram el Sharif.

Different countries, different lifestyles

Jerusalem is a dynamic city encompassing religion and secularism. Within the old walls of Jerusalem itself, liquor, beer and wine are consumed. People wine and dine within the same walls where others attend church, mosque and temple.

People respect holy spaces and let these areas function as they have for centuries. However, cafes, bars and restaurants function in their own places within the walls.

Just outside the Jaffa entrance is a vast complex of high-end retail, patio style restaurants, bars, clubs and the like. Jaffa Street is fantastic at night. I sat outside with my girlfriends one night and enjoyed being in an environment with other young people enjoying the company of friends. Music, lights and smoke whirled around in the cool air as everyone enjoyed their night. I realized how different Israel was from Egypt, in a sense of secular freedoms.

My friends and I discussed the differences between Israel and Egypt. Although I know Egypt is far more open than Saudi Arabia, it is very strict compared to Israel. The moment I crossed the Egyptian Israeli border, I noticed a difference in the way women dress. In Egypt a female should dress modestly (no skirts or dresses above the knee, no sleeveless shirts, etc.), and in Israel a female can wear anything she wishes.

Although alcohol is consumed in Egypt, alcohol is not socially accepted. There are very few places to even buy beer, wine or liquor. In Israel, alcohol seemed like a common commodity. In Egypt there are social standards for the way male and female youths are allowed to interact. For example, at the American University in Cairo, public display of affection is forbidden. Kissing in public is taboo and even holding hands is not a social norm.

I should make note that in Egypt every place has its own rules. The way one acts at a lounge in the Four Seasons Hotel is far different than in the streets of Tahrir. Even in my own neighborhood, Zamalek, people act differently than in other districts of Cairo. I feel like most of these taboos and social norms are due to social class.

Note: As stated previously, the way one dresses and acts in Egypt is very dependent on the area one is in.

Sitting in my grandmother's living room, listening to her tell this story many times over a nice cinnamon roll or two, I would have never have thought that I would make my way to Cologne someday.

As I stepped out of the Hauptbahnhof of Koeln, partly in shock that I made it so easily, the dark cathedral was looming over me. Smoked by the bombs of WWII, it still majestically stands with its extreme Gothic design.

I decided to go ahead and go inside, lugging my suitcase around. Indeed I was a tourist, but my family was once a part of this city, and there is something warm and welcoming to be derived from that. It is like that feeling you get from seeing someone you think you know.

That feeling, however, was heightened once I walked in to the cathedral; the organist unexpectedly began to play this grandly ornate and powerful prelude. It felt like the ground shook. I think what made this even more exciting is the stained-glass windows that truly function in league with the sunlight, making the crystalline upper registers of the organ music shine brilliantly.

Everywhere, beams of light pierced the dark grey walls of the cathedral, making it seem like God had just appeared or something. More than Notre Dame in Paris, this cathedral meets the demands of Gothic architecture, a notion presented by many clergymen and architects.

I took some German in high school, and I had short conversations with my grandmother on occasion, but I was surprised to observe how much of it came back to me. After reading some newspapers and conversing with locals, I found myself above survival-German status. I even carried on a couple of conversations at times, but at others, I was completely confused.

For instance, a waiter at an Italian restaurant said "Bon appetit," and that completely threw me off! But, the fact that I drank Koelsch (the beer of Cologne) and liked Bratwurst went a long way, and then telling people I descended from this city helped a lot too, although I did not know enough German to warrant a genealogical conversation (but most people spoke a good deal of English).

So after my visit to the cathedral, I went to my hotel. What a great hotel! It was a Hilton, so I shouldn't have expected less, but the huge comfortable bed and towel warmers made my weekend so relaxing. And, the cheap prices of everything in Cologne helped a lot too! For instance, I paid 5 Euros (7.50 USD) for toothpaste, a huge bottle of water, and a cherry Coke. Pretty awesome.

The rest of Friday was spent at Museum Ludwig and the Roman-German history museum, where I experienced some quite moving pieces of art. At the Roman-German history museum, I learned about how Cologne used to be a colony of the Roman empire, but there are cave paintings and pottery pointing back to Neolithic and Celtic eras.

Most surprising, though, was to find in Museum Ludwig art from pop-art artists who lived in Texas, like Rauschenberg. There were also pieces of the photographic Russian avant-garde, Picasso and something by the artist Darboven concerning the face of humans in light of sociology, something I fancied quite a lot. Lots of inspiration to be found in Germany!

I ate a typical German dinner after the museum visits of bratwurst with some sort of potato salad and Koelsch before going to the orchestra concert. Tasty, es schmeckt sehr gut!

I then went to an orchestral concert, where they played the daunting Mahler 9 and Berg's 3 Pieces for Orchestra. Well-played and interesting pieces, they left me with the whole night to write music, and the whole Saturday morning to sleep in!

On Saturday, once I woke up and ate breakfast (at 12 PM), I ventured to the chocolate museum. YUM! They do give you free chocolate there, and it was SO GOOD! It was along the Rhein (like the cathedral and museums), and it made me realize how small Cologne is actually. Nice for tourists, but maybe not so great for those who get antsy. It was quite chilly too, and even the short 10-minute walk from the museum back to the concert hall for my second concert was a little bone-chilling.

This concert featured the chamber music of Schoenberg, Webern, and Korngold. The Schoenberg was the best, I thought. It was "Ode to Napoleon Bonaparte," a chamber piece for two violins, viola, cello, piano, and speaker. Well done, I believe, like the rest of the concert. It is so much fun to hear Germans playing German music, especially that of the early 20th century avant-garde (minus Korngold). The frequency of concerts in Koeln is immense; this and the opera were just a taste of what was all going on during the weekend.

The opera I saw a couple of hours later was Orfeo et Euridice. It was a modern production set in the 1950s with all that Jung and Freud influence, and the cast was phenomenal, as well as the lighting. It was at this point that I realized how awesome music is in this city. It's just a city of a million people, and they beat Dallas when it comes to choice and diversity in the realm of classical music. I thought that maybe I just hit the right weekend, but looking at the rest of the concert season, it just gets even heavier! I wish I could get back, or, maybe I'll find some way!

On Sunday, I found my latest love, the Berliner. It is like a cherry-filled donut with sugar all around, so good. I bought two, just to make sure I wouldn't forget how the first one tasted! German food is quite good, and their little dessert stands like this are even better and loaded with pretzels, giant Gingerbread-men, these Berliner things, and other stuff that makes you gain weight but in a noble way. I worked it off though by walking around all the time, and it seems that as of late, it is impossible for me to gain weight. Weird.

I also attended Mass at the cathedral that morning. The music was absolutely outstanding. The choir, made up of boys and men, walked around the cathedral singing Gregorian chant before settling down in their place on the right transept. The organist was impeccable as usual, and the priests and bishop sang so well I felt embarrassed to even open the hymn book. A moving experience, and I understood a bit of the sermon, but I did not know the Catholic procedures like 50 percent of the rest of the congregation. I wonder how the main congregation must feel about tourism, although it brings in a ton of money for the cathedral!

On the way back to Paris, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I unlocked the history of my family's past, I guess, and I really fell in love with Cologne. Maybe too much, since coming back to Paris seemed a little dreadful at first. But the prospect of chocolate macaroons and strawberry tarts keeps me going!

Das ist alles!

We arrived in Belgium on Friday night after a short train ride from the Brussels airport. We found out that over 35,000 people were expected to attend this year's festival, which only added to our excitement.

Saturday morning we woke up to explore this small town. The Ghent River was one of the most spectacular sites of the town, full of restaurants and shops for tourists to enjoy. We also visited a castle/fortress that dated back to the 12th century.

We ended our sightseeing early because we had to prepare for the 11-hour techno festival, which would last from 7 Saturday night until 6 Sunday morning.

We arrived at I Love Techno 2009 for a long and spectacular night. Europe's most famous djs played, including Boyz Noize, Simian Mobile Disco, and Deadmau5. Dozens of djs spun their tunes in five large dance halls, which were connected to a large atrium area.

Although many artists played simultaneously, I was able to see my favorites. After many hours of dancing well into the morning, we took a tram back into the town in order to reach our hotel.

The next day we woke up to a sunny morning in Ghent. We enjoyed breakfast in the town square, which contains the Ghent Cathedral. We hunted for Belgian waffles and chocolate as we desperately wanted some before we headed back to Madrid.

Our weekend in Belgium was quite a treat after a week full of exams, but our short vacation was over as we returned to a full week of classes back in Madrid.

Picasso, Sagrada Familia, Park Guell, Barcelona, Madrid, Tortilla Espanola, Flamenco, Prado, the Royal Palace, Gran Via, Poble Espanol ... need I say more? No, but I want to!

Madrid

Along with my friends Kate and Bonnie, I set off for a nine-day trip to Spain last week, not knowing Spanish or really too much about the places we were going.

Getting to Charles de Gaulle to leave for Madrid was easy, although Terminal 1 was sorely lacking dinner food, but flying the discount airline, Vueling, was way better than I expected. Discount airlines are quite popular in Europe; by not offering complimentary items and sometimes making one pay for toilets, discount airlines are a cheap and quick way to get to one place or the next. Can't beat it.

British Airways, in fact, is facing fierce competition with these airlines as well as trains. Why pay more for peanuts and a blanket? But in BA's defense, discount airlines will nickel and dime you to death if you are not careful, but with some pre-planning and a strong attitude, you can financially succeed in your travels just like we did!

Arriving in Madrid around midnight, we met some people from the SMU-in-Madrid program, Drew and Laura. They led us to our hostel, something none of us had ever stayed in and were frankly quite curious about the whole idea. It was actually pretty cool, and like the discount airline idea, hostels do not have that hotel charm some of us are used to, perhaps. The guy even gave Bonnie a free soda!

Although the complimentary breakfast was just toast and jelly, all the Spanish tortillas I ate definitely made up for it. Linens were free, and the bathroom was in the room, and my conclusion is that hostels are good if you want to pay next to nothing for just a bed and a light.

We visited the great Prado Museum (photo left), the Royal Palace and adjacent cathedral, the Park Campo Moro, marketplaces, shops and things of the like.

The best part is that things were so much cheaper in Madrid. For instance, I could get a Coke for as little as 60 centimes ... something that would cost 3 EUROs in Paris. SO NICE. The food was excellent too, and one night we indulged ourselves in a Spanish restaurant near the Royal Opera that was amazing! FYI: French fries are universal (YES! Called "Patatas" in Spanish, I think.)

Madrid has an awkward flair to it. On one hand, it is a party scene happy to be rid of Franco, but on the other, it is a beautiful city with great public transportation, remnants of the past and tasty food.

We also witnessed a parade of sheep on Sunday morning, an annual parade put on to essentially glorify livestock. Really cool! Also, it was fun to walk into all the little churches and see this magnificent array of gold everywhere. Every cathedral was like a treasure chest.

Barcelona

Barcelona is way different than Madrid, though only an hour and a half away by air. First of all, they do not speak Spanish (though a part of Spain); they speak Catalan. Barcelona is like France's Marseilles because it is always rebelling and quite independent.

We really enjoyed things like the Picasso museum, works of the famous architect Gaudi such as the Sagrada Familia and Park Guell (photo right), the beach, the warm weather, the Poble Espanol and just the general night life. It was nice too that our roommates in the hostel were much quieter!

Things are still pretty cheap in Barcelona, and the public transportation is especially great because it is air-conditioned, a nice relief from the hot metro of Paris. Pick-pocketers in Barcelona are professionals. While none of us got anything stolen, it was very obvious to point out who would probably get robbed and who were the robbers. Some of the robbers make these little mouth noises to distract you, and when you are dumb enough to respond to them, someone will come behind you and snatch your wallet. But really, awareness is the best preventive measure! I cannot stress that enough!

Flamenco dancing, nice beaches, good food, happy people ... a great place to be when you need a relief. Highly recommended!

A Little Artistic Statement

Looking at the development of Picasso, I feel assured that we have not discovered everything in terms of art yet. In the past, many have felt that we have, and they do now too, but I think it is close-minded to think so.

I remember when I was younger that I sent out letters to some admirable musicians asking them about their views on a "new" form of art, and the responses were quite exciting. I do not want to be a seat-rattler; I just want my own voice that people can understand, distinguish, and respect because I think have something valuable to say through music that will encourage people to think more deeply about themselves, thus promoting a more thoughtful society.

Well, check back in 10 years, and we'll see where I am with this.

And now

I am afraid of all the research papers, small papers, and reading to do this week. It's like being crushed by a gravel truck! Argh! But, Germany this coming weekend!

At SMU, I would usually hide out in Fondren in the science section or the basement (anywhere really that was out of the way and with wide tables).

In Copenhagen it's been a little bit more difficult than a quick stroll over to Fondren. Now I am hiding out at Panum Institute (affiliated with University of Kobenhaven and the medical school), which also has wide tables and because I know nobody there (except my cancer bio classmates, because that is where our class is held).

It is huge (with a good cafeteria) and pretty quiet. It's a great place for me to write a research paper and presentation, write a Russian lit paper, study for three tests and tutor without getting a million interruptions.

Animal behavior

Last weekend we went to the Odense Zoo and Fjord & Baelt (which is a research facility for marine biology) to observe sea lions (and their pups!), harbor porpoises (and their calf!), manatees (and their several calves!) and harbor seals (no pups for them).

It was great to see current research on these animals and how their trainers taught them to do tricks, feed and play with each other. Although it was a long day, I really enjoyed the trip, and I think it really helped me to visualize animal behavior and movement (which we had a test on, so that really helped!).

It was also interesting to see the cultural aspect of zoos. While in the US we don't really consider pelicans to be "exotic" (being from Louisiana I see huge flocks of them over the summer, so I bet many people in the Gulf Coast area see them frequently), but in Denmark that was one of the most popular exhibits (along with the universally popular "primate house," lion and tiger areas and the flamingo ponds). There was also a Legoland trip that was a LOT of fun, and my inner nerd child loved it.

Under the weather

So yes, it's been a busy two weeks for me. I also got sick recently with something that apparently everyone in our house has. There is the constant chorus of coughing and honks from blowing our noses as well as frequent complaints of fevers. I was lucky and got better within 24 hours, but while I called the doctor's office to set up an appointment (which I cancelled once my fever broke) I realized that there are no pictures on the CPR card.

Which made me wonder, why aren't there ID photos on these cards? Couldn't someone steal your card and use it? In the US we have several forms of ID to establish identity and legal status (try applying for a job?) and people are usually VERY careful with these documents.

And I thought about it more (while lying in bed, because naturally one would debate these things just before bed) and finally decided, yes it's possible. But consider that you get free health care and education with this card (not money or credit cards) and that the government is perfectly willing to give any legal person in Denmark. That's the catch though, legal.

So if the US were going to have any sort of "universal health care," I am sure the majority of the population would want it to include only legal residents and immigrants. Therefore we would leave a portion of the population (illegal immigrants) uncared for. And that opens up another can of political worms. At this point I decided it was time to sleep.

Travel break next week! I am so excited!! Maybe this means I should learn about the health care of France, Spain and Italy in my spare time?

When my parents call and ask me what I've been up to, I hardly know where to start.
I've sand-boarded the Great Sand Dunes in Colorado; I've gone rafting on the Rio Grande; I've camped out under the stars on the brim of the Grand Canyon; and the semester is only halfway through.

Classes here are incredibly small and intimate; allowing you to have a much richer learning experience than you normally would, even at a small private school like SMU in Dallas. In service-learning, a course component that provides students the opportunity to work with nonprofit and community-based groups, I get class credit for picking apples, drying herbs, and weeding asparagus crops - all the while, I'm surrounded by the breathtaking Sangre de Cristo Mountains. How amazing!

Sometimes I have to stop in the midst of everything and remind myself that I am in school, and that this is my classroom. I mean seriously, where else do you learn about Geology by hiking up a snow-capped mountain and picnicking by a glacial lake? Where else can you count 10 shooting stars on your walk to the library? And when else have you woken up before class to one day find your campus surrounded by hills of snow-covered pines, glittering in the morning sun?

During our free time, we enjoy the Taos culture and town life, wandering in and out of little stores and restaurants, listening to live music in the plaza and meeting the unique people who have lived here all their lives. When the weather permits, we build bonfires and roast marshmallows. And when it is snowing outside, we cozy up by the fireplaces that are in our adobe dormitories, called casitas.

Besides the lessons I've learned in class, living in Taos has helped me really understand, perhaps for the first time, what it means to be part of a community.

Back in Dallas, although I tried, it was hard to get to know your professors personally when you were one face in a hundred. Here in Taos, I have one-on-one lessons with professors whose sole reason for being in Taos is ... me! The extremely small class sizes (ranging from 1 student to 10) translate to amazing flexibility. Our professors go out of their way to make sure we are getting the most out of our Taos experience. Where else are classes tailored to meet your needs so precisely?

The classroom is only one way my professors and colleagues interact. We also eat meals together in the dining hall, where the kitchen staff knows us all by name and surprises us with special treats. Almost every day I leave class, only to find myself laughing and joking with my professor over a bowl of Ginny's soup.

I honestly feel as though the Cheers theme song was better written for us: "SMU-in-Taos- Where Everybody Knows Your Name."

I consider it a great privilege to be participating in a program where the directors know and care about each one of us. No program is without flaws, especially not one that is brand new. And yet I can honestly say that any time I've had a question or a concern, I have been able to sit down with the directors and personally voice my dilemma. They really listen, and immediately, steps are taken to solve the problem.

Never before have I been surrounded by a group of faculty and professors who have taken such a personal interest in making sure I am getting the most out of my academic experience. We are truly spoiled out here.

Already, my fellow students and I are apprehensive about returning to Dallas and leaving SMU-in-Taos. We joke that we will have to start a support group, as we will surely be experiencing symptoms of withdrawal upon re-entering the reality of Dallas.

In the meantime, we are all enjoying our time here to the max! Although I have some suggestions for improving the program next year, I can honestly say that I have loved every minute and would not have changed anything about this semester.

Basically, all I can say is, you are crazy if you do not take advantage of the incredible opportunity that is SMU-in-Taos.

In Russia I had countless opportunities to witness Russian culture firsthand. I got to meet the famous Georgian artist Zurab Tsereteli, president of the Russian Academy of Art, and compliment him in Russian; view an opera at the Bolshoi Theater; see a modern dance ballet of the Pushkin work Onegin at a magnificent theater older than the United States itself; go to a backyard theater performance in downtown Moscow with Russian locals singing and dancing together with actors; party until dawn at the infamous Russian club Propaganda; visit Red Square at midnight with Russian friends to have fun and be silly; visit Leo Tolstoy's estate; visit Tsarist palaces in St. Petersburg giving Versailles a "run for its money"; eat Uzbek and Georgian food; and visit countless museums of Russian art that breathe life into the meaning of Russian culture.

The language

At Moscow State University (MSU), I was challenged to learn more advanced levels in Russian than I had previously studied at SMU. Although I have only taken a year in Russian, during my free time I would practice Russian conversation with my Russian and Ukrainian friends living in Texas, practice writing sentences to improve my grammar, but I didn't really understand how much my Russian improved until I was conversing liberally with my Russian friend when I returned to Texas. Four hours of Russian each day was very arduous and tenuous, but it pushed me to my limits in speaking and listening comprehension.

I was very thankful for the patience of my MSU professor, Elena Borisovna. I felt very blessed to have an instructor who had a good sense of humor and genuinely enjoyed her job. Although it was difficult to translate some concepts into English, upon returning to America, I realized that my Russian literally improved exponentially. I have a clear understanding on how to grasp learning the Russian language without becoming stressed by its peculiarities relative to English.

Avant-garde art

Through my culture class I learned interesting things about Russian art. Museums I visited included Tretiakov Gallery, Hermitage, Pushkin's Museum, Mayakovsky Museum (photo right, with Professor Zimakova), Artist's House (Dom Khudozhnika), Tsereteli's Gallery and other galleries and exhibits. There was also incredible art in the cathedrals and churches. I conducted a project on the avant-garde movement, which includes cubo-futurism, suprematism, and artists such as Chagall, Kandinsky, Malevich, Burliuk, and Mayakovsky.

In Russia, a writer is more than a writer and an artist is more than an artist. An artist in Russia reflected the sentiments of the Russian culture. The avant-garde movement reflected the revolutionary culture brewing. It concentrated on the themes of flight, speed, and dynamism. It moved beyond art that was deemed "bourgeois" and representative of the elite. Much of it was utilitarian and functional and disregarded the likes of Dostoevsky and Tolstoy. (Photo left: At the exhibit "Artists of Volga region")

Avant-garde artists wanted to move forward to revolution, but the Bolsheviks eventually banned their art. Much of their expectations became a disappointment, a testament to the reality that many Russians felt years after the abdication of the czar. The revolution that promised egalitarianism, reform, and equality resulted in totalitarianism and persecution.

Moscow connections

Although becoming freely conversational in Russian was a high achievement, I think my favorite aspect was befriending the Russian people themselves. In Moscow, I met wonderful people. I met a journalism student, Masha, who was full of life and energy who rode motorcycles to the Ukraine and halted down "gypsy cabs" without falter.

I met a young upcoming journalist, Misha, who has created an avid career in interviewing celebrities such as musicians, the cast of Star Trek, and even my aunt who is a screenwriter in Los Angeles! (After, of course, we established a friendship). I liked so-called kitchen parties with my new friends. The concept of inviting someone to your kitchen and talking about everything is something that I can readily relate to.

During my free time, I took the liberty to attend an Anglican Church on Sundays, the only one in Moscow (and the only one in Moscow whose architecture is Gothic). Being Episcopalian, we are part of the worldwide Anglican Communion. The church there is a member of the Community of Cross and Nails, which is a powerful symbol of reconciliation and peace established after World War II after the city of Coventry was reduced to rubble by German bombs.

During my time, I meditated on the meaning of religious freedom that we take for granted in the United States (that wouldn't have existed 20 years ago in the Soviet Union). I also thought of Russian human rights journalists, such as Anna Politkovskaya and Natalia Estemirova, who died for defending human dignity against the abuses of the Russian and Chechen governments.

At the church, I met several Russian people whom I befriended, including a young man named Victor in his 20s who was delighted to meet an American person his age. He and his friends Lina and Oksana were very gracious, and our friendship grew. That afternoon, Victor took Oksana and me to a pond in Northwest Moscow, where we rowed a boat and discussed life. One afternoon, Lina invited me to a social gathering at the German embassy.

Friendships such as these are invaluable, and establishing relationships with others in foreign countries will last a lifetime. I haven't met another culture that's as lively as the Russian culture. They take pride in family, friendships, and relationships.

Deep ties

At the end of the trip, I felt nostalgia from the similarities of Russian culture that mirror my family. The directors of the program celebrated our completion of the program through music and champagne.

When Arthur Baishev, director of the MSU Center for Russian Language and Culture, brought out his guitar to sing Russian folk tunes, I felt nostalgia for a past that never occurred in my lifetime: my late grandfather, whom I never met (whose mother came from Russia), would always bring out his mandolin and sing a song with the entire family.

Music has been an important part of my life and in my family, and the Russians come together and sing. Despite their turbulent history, they find a reason to get up in the morning and just sing. Whenever I visit my family in Los Angeles, I see elements of Russian culture through the value of family and friendships, hosting a music party just to sing and enjoy life, and cooking gollubsy (a Russian dish of meat and potatoes wrapped in cabbage) during Christmastime.

I have never felt an emotional connection for another country like I have for Russia. In 6 weeks, I fell in love with Moscow, St. Petersburg, the peculiarities of daily life, and the people. My glimpse of Russia in America is through my professor, Tatiana, and my Russian and Ukrainian friends with whom I practice speaking Russian. Studying Russian culture in Russia has dramatically crumbled any stereotypes I had about this country. I plan to pursue my minor in Russian Area Studies.

This fall, I am taking a Russian language class, as well as a history class in Soviet and Post Soviet society, and if I had all the time in the world, I would study in St. Petersburg for a semester. I am not sure how my career goals will go. I plan to become a lawyer. Even if I do not come to Russia for professional reasons, I would love to have the opportunity to take my family and friends to Moscow and St. Petersburg and to show them these cities.

If you want global awareness and understanding of different cultures, don't go to Western Europe. Western Europe is great and has its own rich culture and history, but nowhere as been more misunderstood by Americans than Russia, which is a continuation of the Cold War era. Russians and Americans have ideas about each other. I had an expectation of what Russia would be like. But you will never understand the culture and the people if you never visit.

The No. 1 rule when visiting a different culture and a strikingly different country, do not make any assumptions. My advice is for everyone to just go - go to Russia - get your hands messy - make mistakes - have fun - but most important, leave behind all baggage, material and immaterial, and open your heart. From Russia With Love.

As part of this detective work, I recently spent five days studying events and impacts of World War I and World War II in the south of France. It is the land of sunny lavender fields, clear blue Mediterranean beaches and mountains that crest the clouds, but that is a facade to the devastation it faced back in the 20th century. You see, it is one thing to study something, it is another to be where it happened, and yet another to experience it firsthand. Sometimes I wish, for the sake of my knowledge, that I was present at some of these sites where major events happened, but that is truly sadistic for no one should ever want to be in such a time or place of unrest, blood and savagery. Although, tourism is so prevalent that half of the people speak English!

Marseilles
The story begins at Marseilles, where I spent one night. Marseilles began as a Greek port city, actually, then it was turned over to the Romans during the Roman civil war around 49 B.C. This explains why, when archaeologists are excavating some of the Roman ruins, they will usually find Greek ruins beneath!

Marseilles, since it allied with the side opposing Julius Caesar, has always been known as a resistant and independent city. In fact, Louis XIV was said to have had to break down the wall of Marseilles just to get in, even though he was king!

During World War II, a good portion of Marseilles was destroyed by German bombing, something I blame for the absence of that touristy feel like in Nice. However, of interest to note is the fact that Marseilles' civilians actually rebelled against the Germans even when French help did not come yet. The civilians of Marseilles essentially defended their own city until some French and American help did arrive as a diversion tactic for D-Day.

Hitler tried to take Notre Dame de la Garde, a beautiful church on a huge martyred hill, but the French got it back in the end. The church is a symbol of the strength of Christianity, for it is an arduous journey to the top of the hill. It is utterly amazing to see this level of independence from a city, but the civilians of Marseilles were well-prepared, considering their admirable defensive history.

Also, there is an excellent memorial for internment camps in Marseilles since Marseilles is where a huge round-up of Jewish people took place in 1942 under the collaboration of the Vichy regime and the German government. I found this particularly moving.

Giens
The next town I visited was Giens, just to stay for the night. The hotel had a brilliant view of the Mediterranean, even better than Marseilles! But I left the hotel to visit Villa Noailles the next morning, a beautiful modern house built on a hill in the Bauhaus style of the 1920s. Form follows function is its motto. A lovely place to be, if you like small rooms, obsessive-compulsive cleaning, and architecture that reminds you of that nasty pink sweater you bought in 2004. I respected the place for its thoughts, not necessarily its opinion. Villa Noailles reflects the post-World War I concern with hygiene, fitness, and the disembarkation from classic architecture; hence the modern, Bauhaus feel of this 1920s chateau with fitness rooms, clocks in every room (think Age of the Machine), and clean nature.

St. Tropez
From Giens, I went to St. Tropez, where Hermes, Dior, Prada and other top fashion brands await the extremely wealthy tourists that visit year-round. Snow-covered mountains drift over the crashing sea, and sailboats linger around with little idea of their location, it seems.

After lounging around the port with my friend Kate, especially in response to a little motion sickness I experienced from the bumpy bus ride, I visited a museum housing Pointillist, Fauvist, and Impressionist paintings. You can probably tell from my experience at Musee Lorangerie that I love these styles of the late 19th and early 20th centuries; they are centerpieces to my own music. It is so nice to see the originals of artists that I have only read about!

Nice
St. Tropez was too pricey, so I was happy to leave for Nice, where there was a better array of things to do. Where do I start, though? The hotel was amazing and comfortable and right along the beach! In fact, it was right along the Promenade des Anglais, or Promenade of the English.

Nice used to be a vacation spot for the English before World War I, as even Queen Victoria of the Diamond Jubilee visited in 1892. The world wars destructed France, and I believe that because of that, tourism was on a decline until the latter half of the 20th century. In fact, most people speak English in Nice, and those who are not French prefer English. Perhaps this represents the reburgeoning interest of the English in Nice.

I also visited this amazing little chateau built by the Rothschild family that was just outstanding. There are seven gardens outside, and the lady herself collected so much art back in the '20s (mind you that this is the same era of that Bauhaus modern villa), representing Antiquity, Renaissance, and Baroque painting and objet d'art. The most stunning aspect were the fountains that danced to music, overlooking that blue dreamy Mediterranean with foggy mountains in the background. Many of my fellow classmates felt they should get married there, but I think it is too early to think about marriage.

Nice has so many little shops, so I could not help shopping for Christmas gifts. I cannot reveal too much about what I bought for everyone, but rest assured, the gifts of Nice are unlike anything else. I also found time to jog around the beach, stumbling upon beautiful rocks and memorials. And the food! Oh, I love food! Nice cuisine is so tasty, like your grandma's cooking but refined into a 5-Star restaurant style.

Also while in Nice, I visited the town outside called Boit, where the Fernand Leger museum is. The tour guide was amazing, and she detailed every creation of Leger, from his first little Impressionist exercises to his last avant-garde pieces. I like Leger because he understood that the Renaissance negatively influenced and hindered future artists; he was not content with rules. I would probably not hang his art in my home, but I would definitely find some more time to study it. I am too picky about art to settle on something I like right now. (Do you see that theme in my view of marriage too?)

The next day was spent in Antibes, which also use to be a Greek city. Now, it is home to some of the wealthiest people; its popularity started with the American art patrons Gerald and Sarah Murphy.

Even F. Scott Fitzgerald visited Antibes, notably the Belles Rives Hotel, and that is where he wrote Tender is the Night, or in my opinion that is where he sketched a good deal of it. His reputation in Antibes was scandalous, but aren't all of us artists just a tad scandalous?

But from this, one can definitely say that American tourism was prevalent then, and today, it is even more so with its infatuation with American culture due to the visits of the Fitzgeralds.

And fortunately, I got to play the piano a bit there, a nice grand black piano sat in the room while we enjoyed refreshments. I just made up some jazzy 9th chords with a Debussy-like melody over the top, a kind of seaside jazzy feel. I think it won some favor in my upcoming writing. And here I am, about to leave for Spain for nine days! Until next time!

Teaching at the Cradle of Chinese Diplomats

Earlier this year I was accepted into a fellowship program titled Princeton-in-Asia (PiA). Founded over 110 years ago, PiA is a program at Princeton University that places recent graduates into teaching, service, or work posts all over Asia. As a PiA fellow, I felt very fortunate to receive a teaching post at China Foreign Affairs University (CFAU), right in the heart of Beijing. (In photo: Princeton-in-Asia fellows in Beijing)

China Foreign Affairs University is commonly called the "cradle of Chinese diplomats." Out of all Chinese universities, CFAU boasts the largest number of ambassadors and Foreign Service officers amongst its alumni. Additionally, the university specializes in areas of international diplomacy, public policy, international law, and foreign languages. It is also one of China's most competitive universities: its average on the National Higher Education Entrance Examination ranks among the top institutions in the country.

What this all amounts to is a really interesting place to work. My students are all incredibly insightful and well-versed in current events. CFAU also serves as a prominent training center for Chinese and foreign diplomats, so there are always foreign delegations and Chinese officials roaming the hallways. One example was when China's Foreign Minister, Yang Jiechi, came to give the keynote speech for the university's opening convocation in September. (Foreign Minister Yang is the U.S. equivalent of Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.)

Witnessing the PRC turn 60

Since my return in early September, life has been a whirlwind of activity. In the midst of moving in, I had the opportunity to witness the 60th anniversary of the founding of the People's Republic of China. For most in the West, the notion of celebrating a 60th anniversary is not that important. We as Westerners place greater emphasis on quarter-century marks to really go "all out" and celebrate.

However, 60 is an important number in the Chinese tradition because it marks the end of a full lunar calendar cycle. While the lunar calendar is not used functionally today, it is still used to determine all of China's festivals and holidays. (Such as the Chinese New Year and the Mid-Autumn Festival.) Therefore, it was no surprise that the Chinese pulled out all the stops to host a large-scale celebration in honor of the government's 60th anniversary. (In photo: Tian'anmen Square during the National Holiday)

Of all the events produced for the celebration, the National Day parade received the most attention by both the local and foreign press. Due to the security restrictions around the parade route, I, along with the rest of China, watched the parade on television. Even though I could not see the tanks firsthand, I could see the military fly-by from my window.

On a more exciting note, I was able to take part in the national celebrations in a different and memorable way. As a foreign professor at CFAU, I was invited to attend a government dinner for "foreign experts" at the Great Hall of the People to celebrate the 60th anniversary. The Great Hall of the People functions as the nation's parliamentary building and consists of many chambers, including the Great Auditorium that houses the National People's Congress.

We had dinner in the State Banquet Hall, which is where the Chinese hosted Richard Nixon when he first visited China in 1972. What really made the dinner memorable was walking through the building itself. It was chilling to think what leaders and other notable figures walked the halls of that monumental structure.

In fact, to call the building monumental insufficiently describes the scale of the place. From the outside, the Great Hall does not look that overwhelming, but once inside I felt dwarfed by the massive columns that lined its endless corridors. The banquet hall itself was jaw dropping in that it seated well over 2,000 people comfortably for dinner. From the Forbidden City to the Great Hall of the People, the Chinese sure do know how to construct buildings of epic proportion.

It's not just all about work

Four weeks into classes, China took an eight-day hiatus to celebrate National Day as well as the Mid-Autumn festival. It was a relaxing holiday that included a trip with some friends out to the coastal city of Qingdao.

The city is known for its German concession that thrived there at the end of the 19th century. More importantly, the city is known for what the Germans left behind: a brewery. Qingdao beer, otherwise known in the West as Tsingtao, is China's most famous beer and is consumed widely in China and distributed globally.

The Tsingtao brewery is truly a window into China's recent history. The brewery's museum tells the story of how the Germans invaded Qingdao at the turn of the century, and later how Japanese forces overtook the city and renamed Tsingtao beer for a brief period. When the Communists came into power in the late 1940s, the original name was restored and beer kept flowing under Chinese management.

It is also an interesting example of how a foreign tradition (beer brewing) permeated Chinese drinking culture. Today, no matter what restaurant you walk into in China, Tsingtao will almost always be on the menu.

Despite the excitement of autumn, winter is slowly announcing its arrival. The days are already getting colder and markedly shorter. As we start the march into another Beijing winter, I will check back in with updates from life here in China's capital. Until next time.

Wow. I cannot say enough positive things about my Washington, D.C., experience.
It was fantastic. Props to Dr. Kirk for putting on such a wonderful program.

I want to touch on a few specific experiences I had, aside from being totally camera-happy in the nation's capital (I sure did love the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial). We spoke with a lot of people who were working directly with the press, which definitely inspired me because I could see myself doing this one day.

We met with Taylor Thorney, Press Secretary for Bob McDonnell. We spoke with President Obama's regional Press Secretary for the South. We also met Scooter, who works for the Democratic National Convention and has written speeches for Hillary Clinton and then-Presidential candidate Barack Obama.

These three people, along with many other people we spoke with, have a direct influence on how the media, and ultimately the American people, portray the candidates. They have the power to convey certain messages to certain people, just as the candidates want them to do. Their jobs were fascinating.

When we visited the Holocaust Museum, we saw the traveling exhibit of Hitler's Propaganda. This was incredible, in the non-traditional sense of the word. How is it possible that Nazis could use such persuasive propaganda to commit genocide? Hitler's picture had a quote of his written above it: "All great, earth-shaking events have been brought about by the spoken word." Wow. How powerful.

Now, this made me think. After speaking with all the people directly involved with the press, people who directly represent their candidate, it made me think that they have the power to (more or less) send whatever message they want - as do the candidates.

In America, when we think of our freedoms, we know freedom of speech is what makes our country progress. Without the spoken word, many movement leaders would not have been able to change the world for the good - like the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., who would not have made progress with civil rights. But what about if the spoken word is used for harm - to commit genocide?

This made me realize the power of communication, and how we really need to study the spoken word. It can be so powerful. I truly believe the spoken word is earth-changing, but we need to always fight for changing the world for the good.

In addition to our speakers and visiting the Holocaust Museum, we had the opportunity to do the Mall Crawl. What an awesome experience! The Lincoln Memorial was so beautiful, and much larger than I had anticipated. The Washington Monument was awesome, and the Smithsonian Castle was just stunning. Needless to say, I took a lot of pictures ... 359 to be exact!

Overall, Washington, D.C., was an amazing experience. I cannot thank Dr. Kirk enough for putting on such a fabulous program. It was invigorating, educational and just a lot of fun!

Do Americans understand the value of news reporting? If every single American had the chance to visit the Newseum, they would. In a world where some reporters live in fear for their lives under the shadow of oppressive government, America is a golden example of uninhibited press. Oftentimes the American public takes power of the press for granted.

I regained my admiration and respect for journalists after weaving through the amazing exhibits in the Newseum. I found the most interesting display to be the News History Exhibit. This exhibit archived a decade's worth of breaking news stories. On the interactive touch screens I was able to play broadcasts covering the OJ Simpson trial, Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, the Oklahoma City Bombing and many more. I spent a good 45 minutes just in this one area of the museum. Looking at segment after segment of fierce reporting on events that impacted the world gave me a new perspective on the role of media.

Our country was founded on the idea that freedom of the press would create a watchdog for government. The News History exhibit sparked my reflection on the importance of our First Amendment rights and the sad reality that America is one of only a few countries that upholds freedom of the press. (In photo: The First Amendment is engraved in the stone face of the Newseum.)

One of the amazing things about the Hilltop on the Hill program is the opportunity to meet alumni who are active in the communications and journalism fields. Due to the amazing connections of our faculty and the fact that many alums are more than willing to offer advice to their fellow Mustangs, we had VIP access. We were able to listen to the experiences and wisdom of accomplished people like Taylor Thornley, who at 22 years old is a deputy press secretary to the gubernatorial candidate of Virginia, and Robert Hillman, an editor for Washington's prime political publication, Politico. (In photo: We took a VIP tour of the Politico newsroom.)

The Hilltop on the Hill program wasn't your typical fall break vacation. We were constantly on the go, and I felt totally immersed in the professional and political tone of Washington, D.C.

Our trek down the famous D.C. Mall was one of the most majestic and patriotic experiences of the trip. The mall includes the Capitol Building and the Lincoln, Washington, World War II and Vietnam Memorials. I personally preferred the Lincoln Memorial. Looking up at the huge likeness of Abe Lincoln is a very humbling experience. With the Gettysburg Address and the Emancipation Proclamation inscribed on the walls of the memorial, I found myself reflecting on the importance of public speaking and debate.

When Professor Ben Voth, our SMU speech and debate team coach, stood on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial and pointed to the spot where Martin Luther King Jr. gave his "I Have a Dream Speech," it intensified this reflection for me. Our country celebrates public speaking, and the legacy of major public orators in U.S. history surges through the memorials of the D.C. Mall.