Waiting on the world to change.

Class has finally begun. Praise Jesus and pass the espresso.

Classes are an hour and forty-five minutes long and meet once a week, which is pretty freakin' bizarre after all the class we have to attend at BC. There's also a break in the middle, which many people use to go to one of the numerous vending/coffee/tea machines in the halls of the Erasmusgebouw (20-story main academic building). The teacher usually begins two to five minutes early and it is completely unacceptable to waltz in late. Everyone takes absolutely immaculate notes and I think I may still be high from all the Wite-Out that was used in yesterday's class.

So far, I've attended French Culture in the 20th and 21st Centuries (which should...suck) and 19th Century American Literature, which is taught by an awkward American prof from Purdue who seemed extraordinarily relieved to see Americans. I stayed after class with my friend Rosa and talked to this guy, who is on a Fulbright and uprooted his whole family and life to come here. It's good to know that this transition's hard for everyone, regardless of age.

Just got back from my Multiculturalism in North America class, which is an American Studies course in two parts. It seems like it's going to be awesome--lots of reading and discussion and documentary and photo viewing. It's structured a lot like the Am Stud classes at BC, so I think it'll be awesome.

I'm writing today mostly as a reflection on that class. We watched a BBC documentary that explored the meaning of being American throughout the nation's history, and frankly, it was embarrassing. Cue footage of a volunteer border patrol, comprised of 10 to 15 Texas rednecks who get their thrills by reciting the Pledge of Allegiance and going through the streets physically and verbally threatening anyone who looks like they might be illegal. "They're bringing foreign diseases into our country," exclaimed one prim little Southern belle. There were also lengthy segments on human rights violations during the Spanish-American war, the Chinese Exclusion Act, Japanese internment camps, and "cultural inspectors" hired by Ford to force assimilation.

You could tell that Rosa and I were the only Americans in the class by the way we covered our eyes and slumped in our seats. The documentary was shown in six-minute chunks and was paused after each for brief reflection, which was basically spent staring aghast at said Americans.

Luckily, we finished up with some exploding fireworks and waving flags and general DNC footage. Whew--dodged that bullet. Everyone here believes in Obama perhaps even more strongly than most Americans do, and it scares me. I obviously love the prez as much as the next flower-garland-making, bike-riding, French-speaking, moss-kissing flaming liberal, but I'm terrified that when he doesn't live up to the ginormous expectations that the world (and the Bush legacy) has left for him, everyone's going to turn on us.

Change is happening, but a lot of things are changing for the worse--things I never see over here. If what I hear from home and friends is true, businesses are shuttering, parents are losing their jobs, BC tuition is looking impossible to pay, and what really breaks my heart is that PA is canceling the Governor's Schools. I feel groundless right now. Like I've bounced as high as I could on a trampoline and when I wasn't paying attention, someone grabbed it out from under me and I'm just watching the ground approach and preparing for the shock of landing. (Too poetic. I know. Sorry.) I don't know where the US is going, and I'm too far away to even have an idea.

And as a big "screw you" to the realities of recession (and my rapidly shrinking bank account), a few of us are planning a 9-day adventure to Venice, Florence, and Rome at the end of February. Stay tuned for details.