Santiago
David Boyer, '96
Fall-Winter '93-94
I simply came back another person. My friends didn't even recognize me. I became more sensitive, I don't know if that's the right word. I felt better about myself and what I wanted to do and accomplish. . . . I was talking with the woman who hosted me, Marta, about tacos. I asked if they had tacos here and she said, "Of course." I told her how I loved them. I went on and on, and she looked at me like I was this morbid person. It turns out that in Chile, a taco is a major car accident. . . . There was this woman, Theresa, who worked in our house. I bought her a gift, a little crystal cat. It wasn't a huge financial sacrifice for me. She broke down in tears when I gave it to her. She didn't want to accept it. I talked to Marta about it, and she told me Theresa had cleaned off her mantle and invited the whole neighborhood to come and look at the cat. I didn't expect that.
Cliveden
Mary Hamaker, '83
Fall '82
I was in the train station in Grenoble, France, one night. There were men who kept asking me in different languages what time it was. They were trying to find out what language I spoke. Then they proceeded to harass me in English. I boarded the train and selected a nonsmoking car and closed my door. I saw a guy in a Stanford sweatshirt walk down the aisle and yelled, "Hey Stanford, come back." He was working for Hewlett-Packard in Grenoble. I explained why I was frightened, and he stayed with me. . . . Before Big Game, we bribed the maids for bedsheets, bought red felt pens and made a letter for each sheet, spelling BEAT CAL. We went to the Tower Bridge in London, pinned Coke cans to the bottom so it would hang straight and then hung it over the bridge.
Kyoto
Scott Johnston,'89,
MS '91, MS '96, MBA '96
Spring '91
While I was working in Japan, we were contracting with a Silicon Valley design company. They weren't sending us the product. I called them up, and was told they were all practicing for the companywide lip-syncing contest. I had to explain this to my Japanese boss, and I was sitting there in my Japanese company uniform. Of course, my translation was that they were "really busy." This made me appreciate the broad skills needed to satisfy worldwide customers. . . . I lived in the company dorm and we had a company bath, cafeteria and did exercises in the morning. The single members of the company slept in one room on mats on the floor. We had bells that started lunch break and ended it. It was eye-opening to see how another culture can develop so differently.
Florence
Jeff Dykes, '76
Winter-Spring '75
As a Californian, I found Italy very congenial. The rhythm of the place was very familiar to me. But Florence is a strange place. The people can be very arrogant and standoffish. Part of it is an insular reaction to tourists. I tried to catch them off guard, when they were most open. It was very easy for the Stanford villa to become an island. Those of us who were serious got out as much as possible. Through local friends, I found out about a tiny wine bar by the agricultural stock exchange. Resistance fighters from World War II hung out there. I used to go down there to study and drink glasses of Chianti. After I became part of the landscape, I started talking to these guys. It was tremendous.
Tours
Rob Joseph, '71
Fall-Winter '70-71
I hadn't taken French since my freshman year. I was going to refresh my memory during the summer. Everyone said, "Don't worry, you'll pick it right up." Well, I never did. . . . I remember they had a program where you could go into local homes for a Sunday night dinner; I did that a couple of times. I had to converse in French for three to four hours. I'd get back to the dorm and collapse on my bed just exhausted. . . . I would meet someone on a train or anywhere, and they would ask me where I went to school. And I would say, Tours. I would say it about 20 different ways, and still they couldn't understand me. Finally I would spell it, and they would say, "Ahhhhhh, Tours!"
Beutelsbach
Susan Burgenbauch, '65,
Winter-Spring '63
It changed my life. I had started studying math; I wanted to be a teacher. I went to Germany my sophomore year, and it widened my field of interest so much that when I came back I changed my major to cultural anthropology. I took courses in psychology, anthropology and religious studies. I think it was the whole experience of being there and meeting the families and seeing different cultures. Going overseas made me intellectually curious. I realized how much I didn't know, and suddenly studying math was too narrow.
Vienna
Sue Greim Glader, '88
Winter-Spring '87
On a trip to Poland we met a group of Polish students at a bar who wanted to practice their English. We talked to one fellow about his dream of coming to America. He said he would get turned down for a visa. All he wanted in the world was to come to our country, and he couldn't. That really hit us. Later, we were going back to Vienna, and crossing the border there were what looked like 16-year-olds with machine guns. That trip to Poland stayed with me, the lines for bread or for whatever. In some cases, it didn't seem like anyone knew what a line was for, people just got in it. It was very educational. The trip was dark but also great.
