For the last of these columns, it would be great if I could come up with some big, overarching lesson explaining why studying abroad is so amazing. Or perhaps a more specific anecdote - some cute story with a "wow" moment at the end. Maybe, "But then, under a starry Prague night, I realized that it had actually been a seeing-eye man leading a blind dog. And that made all the difference."
Well, sorry, but if it's possible to do that in 800 words, it won't come from me, because my creative juices have all run drier than...see, I can't even complete the metaphor. Just take my word for it and go abroad.
With the remaining space, I'll instead throw out a little piece of knowledge that I rediscovered while in Prague: America's got some stuff, too.
For instance, I was in Rome and Florence a few weeks ago. I ate better than I ever have in my life. My brother, cousin and I took the first couple of days to see sights, but for the last two days or so, all we did was sit at cafes from sunrise to sunset and just eat our faces off in disgusting displays of engorgement. Meats, cheeses, olives, vegetables, sauces, pastas - all bursting with flavor.
Yet now, on the eve of my return to the United States, my thoughts turn only to cheeseburgers and wings. I plan on going directly from the airport to an establishment located about ten minutes from my house that is known as the Candlelight Inn. It is, without question, the greatest vendor of chicken wings on the planet. It also stays open until four in the morning, and I plan on spending every hour of my first day back in this most personal house of worship.
Here in the Czech Republic, I was lucky enough to watch a Champions League soccer game between the Sparta Prague and England's Arsenal. I wrote about the experience in an earlier column, but to quickly paraphrase myself, it was pretty amazing.
Nonetheless, when I think about sports, I only dream of my beloved Yankees and Giants (8-4 and NFC East leaders, baby), and how good it's going to feel when I'm cooking steaks and burgers in the Meadowlands parking lot the day after I get home, gearing up to watch the Giants' last home game.
I've seen some pretty amazing cities here, too. The onion domes of the Frauenkirche punctuate the Munich skyline, just as dozens of spires aspire to reach the omnipresent cloud-cover in Prague. Narrow canals feature tourist-ferrying gondolas in Venice, while broad ones dissect the red light district in Amsterdam.
In Berlin, everything is new - it is a shimmering city of glass and steel that is constantly under construction. In Istanbul, everything is ancient - you can't turn the corner without walking into a mosque that has listened to prayers for the past four centuries.
But in New York, you can watch a two-ton Spiderman balloon float through midtown as gravy drips down your chin - an experience I heartily missed this Thanksgiving. In Boston, you can picnic on the Common in the shadow of Government Center.
You can tour the Budweiser plant in St. Louis, where the beer is free (unlike at the Heineken Museum in Amsterdam, which is still awesome). Hell, if you make it to Juneau, Alaska, you can swim in an ocean, walk in a rainforest and trek up a glacier in one day.
Here's my point: One trend that definitely exists at Tufts, and probably other liberal universities as well, is the romanticization of Europe and Canada to the detriment of American culture. The argument goes something like this: "America is racist, classist and prudish. Bush is stupid. I wish I lived in Montreal/Paris/London, etc."
Without a doubt, 2005 has been a bad year for the United States. Iraq has shown that our moral compass is spinning around as if just hammered with a magnet. Katrina reminded us that the racial problems we try so hard to sweep under the rug never stay hidden forever. And the CIA leak scandal has undermined many Americans' faith in both our political system and the competence and strength of our media.
But the idea that there's something wrong with American culture or with Americans themselves is ludicrous. Americans are as friendly as any other people, and our culture is as worthy of adoration as any other. And therein may lie the moral of this column, which had eluded me until now:
Going abroad is a great way to meet new people, discover new cultures, eat new food, watch new sports, and, if you're in college, drink even better and cheaper kinds of alcohol (Italy made me a wine-lover and the Czech Republic rekindled my passionate love affair with beer). But in the end, going abroad also made me realize how great America is and how lucky I am to live there.
While I'm in the gracious mood, some quick shout-outs: thanks to Ben Hoffman for paving the way for me in Prague. To my buddies and brother here in Prague for making it such a sweet ride. And, obviously, to Mom and Pops for paying for this whole shindig.
