Foreign Educational Style for an Engineer

When Australian university students say that they’re taking a “maths” course, they really mean it.  Whereas American math education is very much singular and compartmentalized, Australian maths education is plural and combined.  At Columbia, students take calculus and learn calculus, statistics and learn statistics, linear algebra and learn linear algebra, and so on.  In Australia, however, students take first-year maths and learn basics of calculus, differential equations, probability, statistics, and linear algebra.  This means that American study abroad students taking higher level math courses may be expected to have background knowledge that they haven’t yet learned.

When I was at the University of New South Wales, I took an engineering maths course which covered, among other things, vector calculus, differential equations, and linear algebra.  I didn’t learn much in the vector calculus part because I’d already taken Calculus IV at Columbia, which was an entire semester dedicated to that sole topic, but when it came time to cover differential equations and linear algebra, it was quite a different story.  I remember sitting through the first lecture on linear algebra, a subject I hadn’t studied since 10th grade in high school, and being completely taken aback and feeling totally lost during most of the introductory “review” lecture.  All of the students in this second year class had taken the first year course, which had covered all these basics, whereas I had absolutely no foundation for any of it and had to catch up.  I ended up borrowing a friend’s notes from the first year course to teach myself and review some of the “basics” that had baffled me, and after that the class was smooth sailing.  I’m sure I could have also approached the professor, and he or a TA would have gladly helped me through what I didn’t know.

So although this wasn’t a huge obstacle for my academic success while abroad, it was quite an unexpected part of it.  I don’t think this experience should be any kind of deterrent for students considering to study abroad, but I would encourage any students taking higher level courses while abroad to be aware that different educational systems may lead to students in your same year having very different background knowledge, and that adjustments may need to be made to compensate for this discrepancy.

By Claire Duvallet, Peer Advisor, [email protected]

The Difficulties of Returning

When I first landed in the U.S. after my semester abroad, I remember a distinct creeping sense of disgust. Granted, a 5:00am layover with no phone and a poor night’s sleep is not anyone’s sense of a triumphant homecoming. Still, something else was wrong; I felt uneasy, somehow guilty.

It took a few minutes to realize that it was the English, overheard from every angle, which was bothering me. In Buenos Aires, hearing an onslaught of English normally meant one of two things: one, that I wasn’t doing right by the language commitment encouraged by my program, or two, that I had landed in some touristy locale where I was likely to pay triple what I should for a drink or some food. Either way, in Buenos Aires, hearing a lot of English meant that I had to switch up what I was doing. But there was no escape in the airport, and I wasn’t quite ready for my semester of Spanish to be over.

It is in this way—unforeseen, often subconscious, difficult to control—that re-entry or “reverse” culture shock can creep into your heart and mind. It is distinct in every case, but most generally it will take the form of difficult-to-express frustration, restlessness, uncertainty, nostalgia for the foreign country, or a strange dissatisfaction with the home you had left behind. Moreover, you can often be unprepared for re-entry shock, whereas the initial culture shock is highly anticipated. So how to fight it off?

First and foremost, be aware of its possibility. It may not happen instantly—in many cases, the thrill of seeing old friends and old locales will dull the shock—and it may develop unexpectedly. A few deep breaths and an understanding of what’s happening can do wonders to calm the uncomfortable feelings.

Second, try to bring more back with you than photos and souvenirs: bring back a routine. Did you sip mate in the mornings, herbal tea at night? Did you listen to certain music or get into a TV show? Did you cook certain foods, rely on certain habits? I’ve found that sticking to a few select routines you developed abroad, and sharing them with your family and friends from home, can bridge the gap.

Third, don’t forget to keep in touch with the close friends you made abroad. Don’t let these relationships fall to the wayside; nothing will make you feel better than a self-confirming conversation with a friend. It will make study abroad feel less like a dream.

Last—and this is important—keep a sense of humor. Things may frustrate you; let them make you laugh. You may reminisce, but do so happily, with a sense of accomplishment. After all, you survived study abroad, and pride is well-deserved.

By Matt Getz, Peer Advisor, [email protected]

Abroad as an Engineer

Being an engineer abroad isn’t much different from being an engineer at Columbia:  you’ll still have more class that your liberal arts peers, your homework and tests will still be harder, and you’ll still make jokes about the students in your university’s equivalent of Columbia College.  However, as an engineering study abroad student, you may feel a bigger rift between yourself and the other study abroad students you know:  more likely than not, you’ll be taking quite a few classes that matter and count for your major, whereas many other study abroad students may be taking classes for fun and whose credits they don’t necessarily need to graduate.

When I was in Sydney, there was definitely a big group of Americans who had class only a few days a week and who were able to approach their classes as trivial parts of their time abroad.  I, on the other hand, had assignments, midterms, and class five days a week.  Even though I had less work than I would have had at Columbia, I still had more than many of the other study abroad students.  If I had spent most of my time with the study abroad students who never had class or work, it would have been very difficult to motivate myself to go to class, let alone do work.  Instead, I found friends in my classes with whom to do assignments and study for midterms.  In addition, having a few friendly faces who I knew I could sit with in my large lectures definitely helped motivate me to go to class, especially on 9 a.m. every Friday morning!

By Claire Duvallet, Peer Advisor, [email protected]

A Lesson in Controlled Chaos

During my orientation in Buenos Aires, I was faced with a choice between enrolling in classes at the public University of Buenos Aires (UBA) or the private Pontificia Catholic University of Argentina (UCA). UCA seemed familiar; it featured a more distinct campus, technology in its classrooms, library facilities, and club sports teams. UBA, on the other hand, represented an unknown, with its buildings spread throughout the city and a certain notoriety for strikes and activism. I figured that I had come to Argentina to move beyond the familiar, so I enrolled in la UBA.

Its reputation did not disappoint. The buildings, in general disrepair, were plastered on all surfaces with flyers of student political militancy. Students and professors of all ages roamed the long hallways with a cafecito in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Classes frequently started late due to professor tardiness or technological difficulties (in a cavernous lecture hall, a chronically faulty microphone can delay or postpone a class). Almost all of Buenos Aires commutes by public transportation, meaning that delays in the B subway or a strike on the 160 bus wreak havoc on attendance and schedules. Nor did the anarchy cease when the classes finally got started. Speaking neatly in turn does not exist in the Buenos Aires vocabulary, so students would often interrupt the lecture with questions or challenging counterexamples. Coupled with frequent interruptions by student groups plugging an upcoming protest or lecture and the occasional person asking for small bills and change, classes can be faltering at best.

Simply put, UBA will test the limits of your patience. For months, my name failed to appear on the class list for seminar, and neither the professor, nor my program coordinators, nor the UBA administrators seemed the least bit surprised or concerned. The first few weeks of class can be tricky, with frequent classroom, building and schedule changes. A syllabus may describe where to purchase course packets or books, but in reality these stores are often out of stock for indefinite periods of time.

Still, my experience with UBA was terrific, and among the most rewarding of my study abroad. The key is to adopt the Argentine mentality toward the university: a delicate mixture of cynicism, humor, patience and mutual commiseration that embraces, rather than pushes against, the challenges that UBA poses. After all, your time abroad represents a rare opportunity to experience an academic climate that is unlike what you have grown accustomed to at Columbia. (And being honest, Columbia’s bureaucracy may make UBA feel not so foreign after all.)

Most importantly, this effort to ‘roll with the UBA punches’ is doubly rewarding. First, UBA is a tremendous institution; for all of its peccadilloes, its foremost academic reputation attract the best professors and teaching assistants, whose lectures are engaging, fascinating, smooth, and comprehensive. No amount of technological difficulties or mid-class interruptions can derail these professors from their captivating lectures. And second, the UBA experience is a truly Argentine one; from the chaos it engenders comes a variety of opportunities to meet new people and enrich your social experience as well.

Take my advice: meet the challenge head-on. UBA just may make a relaxed, flexible student of you yet.

By Matt Getz, Peer Advisor, [email protected]