CU Abroad – Elizabeth Krevsky

?>

I consider myself a pretty reliable, very “on time” sort of person, so my first day as a student at the University of Seville kicked my butt way far out of my comfort zone and right into a chaotic, bureaucratic mess.

 

Classes for the Faculty of Geography and History* are located in the massive Fábrica de Tabacos, the old tobacco factory of Bizet’s Carmen. Built in the 18^th century, the fábrica boasts cracked stone fountains, open-air patios, and lofty ceilings, along with endless hallways and nonsensically numbered classrooms. The first time I explored the impressive building I wandered in circles for about 45 minutes before discovering the Consejería, the advisor’s office in charge of all the logistical information for my faculty (i.e. classroom numbers, how to make technology work in the rooms, etc.). During the first few days of the semester, the Consejería is indispensable to all the international students in desperate need of directions to their classes (all located within the same building, mind you).

 

I started the morning off well, having thoroughly explored the building the week before, and arrived six minutes early to my first class (after being repeatedly assured that classes begin ten minutes late in Spain, anyway). I arrived at the door of the lecture hall to find a note saying that due to water damage, my class “La España Actual” had been moved to aula (classroom) VII for this week only. So, I started wandering the wide hallways of the fábrica, walked past aulas V, VI, and then started to panic as the numbers skipped to X, XI, XII. I headed to the Consejería for directions, only to be informed that La España Actual class was canceled for today.

 

“Okay, no big deal,” I thought, and headed to the Michigan-Cornell-Penn program center to check my e-mail, write a paper, and kill time before my 12:00 class. After returning to the fábrica for Social History of Spanish Colonization, I attended a class in which the professor actually showed up; unfortunately, it was the wrong professor and the syllabus had the wrong title for the course, but it turns out I was still in the right place. Go figure.

 

For the third class of the day, I decided to head straight to the Consejería to ask for directions to my next classroom, and learned that this class had also switched rooms for the week. With the benefit of the advisor’s semi-clear directions, I headed to aula VI off a tiny hallway in the Law Faculty Corridor, only to find a completely empty, dark room with a locked door. Assuming that class had been canceled, I returned to the Consejería:

 

Me: “There wasn’t anyone in the room you told me about…”

Advisor: “Oh, right. Class was canceled.”

Me: “Do you think there will be class tomorrow?”

Advisor: “Perhaps.”

Me: “Perhaps?”

Advisor: “Theoretically, yes. But I can’t really say.”

 

[Awkward pause as I coped with an inner desire to start ranting about how the university is frustratingly inept at notifying its students of important logistical changes to their schedules, all the while realizing that anything I might say wouldn’t make one bit of difference, because that’s just the way things work at the university.]

 

Me: “Okay, thanks.”

 

Here, this type of logistical breakdown is simply the norm; classrooms are moved, professors are switched, classes start late, and life goes on. As much as I crave regularity and reliability, I welcome the challenge of stepping (or taking a flying leap) outside my comfort zone and adjusting to the somewhat unpredictable Spanish university system. Hooray for culture shock!

 

As for my anthropology professor who’s currently doing research in Cuba? “Perhaps” he will show up to class next week.

 

*Since I’m a Government major, this is the department in which I am taking most of my classes

**Special thanks to Amy for letting me use her photos in this blog post!

Trackback URI | Comments RSS