December 1, 2006

It has been a long week thus far. With exams on the horizon, the big question for me is this, what do I need to know?

The classes are structured much differently here. The syllabus that is given out at the start of the course does not have a daily break down of homework, quizzes and midterm exams; rather it is a list of subjects that we will be covering with a list of books. Most classes have one primary book that is to be read along with the lectures. Furthermore, there are books with chapter breakdowns that are listed under particular topics that are to be read when the student does not understand or simply when he or she wishes fill in what the teacher left out.

Personally, I enjoy this type of format. It places the responsibility on the student. In my three short years in the University this is the first time I have actually felt like a student. One definition of a student is, “any person who studies, investigates, or examines thoughtfully” (dictionary.com). When a particular subject comes up in a class and I don’t understand, there is a part of me that looks at it like a challenge or mystery. Call me a nerd, but I anticipate the opportunity to go to the library or talk to the professor in my effort to understand. But, questions always seem to lead to… you guessed it, more questions! The process is endless.

I had only taken one history class in the university before this year. Currently I am enrolled in three, and I enjoy immensely. Sure, it can be rather taxing trying to understand the economic development of Spain in the XVI century and there is always the issue of language, but its fun and very humbling. There will always be more that I don’t know that I do and although that can be hard for a human so swallow, I think it puts me as an individual in my correct place.

The weather is cold here in Zaragoza and I miss my family and friends a lot. Last night I felt rather sick and wanted nothing more than to be in the company of friends. After a few failed attempts to call friends, I had to accept the reality of my condition. It can be romantic a times to think about being in Spain, but there are times when neither books, nor music, nor anything else can replace our desire to me in the presence of one who understand us.