355 fall2016 meanderingmillennials

MEANDERING MILLENIALS

A L I T E R A RY T R AV E L M A G A Z I N E

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STAFF Managing Editor Natasha Rausch Acquisitions Editor Carly Burkhardt Design Director Taylor Fischetto Productions Director Tayden Bundy Marketing Director Joshua Meyer Copy Editor Anna Dubas

Copyright 2016 Copacetic Publishing All Rights Reserved << 2

CONTENTS INTRODUCTION.....5 TEN-SECOND TRAVELS.....6 CACTUS ISLAND.....9 THE OLYMPICS.....10 ITALY.....12 NEPAL.....14 LONDON.....18 COTONOU.....22 RIO DE JANEIRO.....23 GOOD EATS.....24 FAIRYTALE.....26 DRIFTING THROUGH THE STARS......28 SEAMUS.....29 HOMESICK.....30 HAIKUS.....32 EUROPE.....33

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INTRODUCTION Meandering - adjective 1. following a winding course

Millennial - noun 1. a person born between the years 1978-1998

Meandering Millennials - noun 1. a person or persons, born between the years of 1978-1998, with an intense need and ability to travel. 2. a literary magazine published by Copacetic Publishing with the help of various Nebraska native “Meandering Millennials”.

As Copacetic Publishing set out to devise a plan for this literary magazine, our hearts were drawn to an underlying element that united us all: the vast and ever-changing world.

As we discussed further ways we could combine this element into a literary magazine of accomplished works, we became increasingly fixated on our generation’s need to travel. As the brainstorming continued, we decided on a theme, that later became the title, to base our magazine around. “Meandering Millennials” is a literary travel magazine composed of breathtaking photographs, detailed journeys, and beautiful poems written by millennials about their experiences abroad.

The magazine begins with Nicole Emanuel’s “10 Second Travels,” a short essay and reflection on what happens behind the scenes of captivating social media posts. Ten seconds, the amount of time of the average attention span, is all one has to put into a photo and a caption to capture the essence of the other millions of seconds one spends abroad. In this piece, Emanuel delves further into the beauty found outside of the photos and in the messy memories in between.

Photos from Cactus Island, Bolivia captured by Kevin McCawley showcase the vast and the unknown parts of our world. Kevin, a Junior from Nebraska studying abroad in Chilé through ASU’s study abroad program currently, has a great passion for photography and uses this passion to record his explorations.

“Miga, Sua Loca!” is another sampling from Nicole Emanuel, but this time it takes form as a blog post from her time volunteering at the 2016 Summer Olympics in Rio de Janeiro. She touches on her experiences in Brazil, volunteering at the Olympics, and provides photos showcasing some of her favorite memories.

Jenna Fitzgerald, a student currently attending Arizona State University, provides stunning photos of her time in Ponte Vecchio in Florence, Italy and Venice, Italy. Later on in the magazine, a sampling of haikus inspired by Fitzgerald’s time spent traveling are included.

“Nepal,” the photography and written words of a young photojournalism genius, is a featured spread in the magazine. Avery Sass, a senior at University of NebraskaLincoln, spent her summer in Nepal capturing the lives of

Buddhist nuns. She provides the magazine with remarkable photos and a peek into the life of a Buddhist nun, along with the top six things she learned during her stay.

Photos of London and England by Maddie Blum, a sophomore from Beatrice, Nebraska, express the rich and colorful life awaiting in Europe.

Kayla Punt, a junior form Omaha, Nebraska, contributes two pieces to this work, a reflection essay on her time spent in London, and “Drifting Through the Stars,” a poem about her yearning to explore the world around her. In these pieces, Punt’s love for the world is beautifully conveyed.

A short journal entry and photograph from Jayde Carstens provides an insider’s look to her short study abroad time in Contou, Africa.

Sarah Vonasek’s photos of Rio de Janeiro display the breathtaking beauty of nature’s handiwork. Sarah will be following her love to travel to Ecuador starting in January for her semester study abroad program.

Leigh Hanson, Kayla Punt, Nicole Emmanuel, Audrey Beedle, Sloan Nelson and Lauren Harding share their photos of native foods for a spread titled “Good Eats”.

“Fairytale”, a wonderful blog post by Kendra Bubb, provides scenic photos of Germany along with her reflections of the castles found there.

“Seamus”, a short story by Miranda Cherry, focuses on an impactful encounter she had with an old man she met while visiting the beautiful country of Ireland.

Leigh Hansen, a freshman at the University of Nebraska-Lincolna, writes a poem about her homesickness due to her long stay abroad. While the pain she felt from the absence of her parents was difficult, the stunning photos she provides shows the remedy that helped ease her pain.

Finally, photos from Laruen Harding, a junior at the University of Nebraska at Omaha, encapsulate all of her time spent meandering through Europe.

We are so proud of the bonds that were shared in this magazine. The love and need to travel fuels so many, and when these passions come together in a literary work, the end result is profound. While there are so many resounding differences working against humanity every day, a steadfast bond unites us all: our world is not our own, but is ours as a whole to share.

This magazine shows unity that can be felt from all ends of the earth, and it is our hope that after reading and viewing the photos, you will be left with a feeling of wonder and awe.

Best,

Carly Burkhardt Acquisitions Editor 5 >>

TEN SECOND T R AV E L S

Behind every enviable Instagram photo, there’s an overwhelmed traveler.

BY NICOLE EMANUEL

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When people ask me about a recent trip, I automatically respond with some version of “It was so great! I had so much fun!” Which is generally true. I usually don’t mention that while I’m abroad; I’m often thinking, “What have I done?!” equally as often. Scientists report the average attention span to be fewer than 10 seconds.

That means I’m more or less expected to summarize every breathtaking moment, heart-stopping adventure and fascinating person from my travels in less time than it takes to book a flight. My 10-second stories and the photos I publish only highlight my experiences. Just as awe-inspiring social media posts are part of any expedition abroad, so are hours of airport boredom, questionable foods and serious frustrations. Let’s be real, behind every enviable Instagram post, there are some rough moments.

Those low points are what make travel such an enriching learning experience and often become our best stories and most laughable adventures.

Sleeping outside on a sidewalk in Seville was rough.

Sleeping in a Paris hostel with a snoring, smelly, old man from Argentina was worse. The comforts of home and my own cozy bed are unparalleled. There’s never a good time to check out of reality and immerse yourself in a different culture. Travel is disruptive, but the adventures that wait are worth allowing a bit of chaos to enter life.

I default to my comfort zone on a regular basis, as most people do, but most of my treasured memories happen when I embrace discomfort. As one who was raised in Nebraska, the ocean is a foreign concept to me. I’m not a strong swimmer.

It freaks me out that whales, sharks and unknown creatures are living in the same massive body of water where I’m just chilling. With that in mind, I decided to sign up for a surfing lesson off the coast of Spain. It was rainy and windy so the waves were huge, and the instructor only spoke Spanish; what could go wrong? After the shortest surfing lesson ever, I was sent into the unsettled water. It was incredible. Fighting waves and failure was worth it for those few blissful seconds of success when the force from an entire ocean was propelling me forward.

My very first time on an airplane I was headed to the Dominican Republic on a mission trip. I spent weeks packing and preparing, but guess what? My luggage got lost. I spent the next six days with only a change of clothes and a toothbrush. Let me tell you, the first night there when I went to my bunk with little more than the shirt on my back and saw a lizard above my bed, I almost lost my mind.

In Venice, my flight landed late at night, and I spent hours navigating water taxis and wandering dark alleys trying to find my Airbnb. I didn’t have phone service; I don’t speak Italian, and I was really tired of carrying my bags around. It was absolutely awful, which probably helps explain why I decided to get a little feisty with a rude Italian man.

If someone figures out a way to travel stressfree, please let me know. There seem to be a considerable number of unexpected bumps involved with any trip, in

my experience. These hiccups are only exemplified by added stress factors, such as a language barrier or being in an unfamiliar place. I guess that’s one of the things I enjoy about traveling. I’ve tested my limits and am consistently surprised by my own strength. I’m not saying these kinds of growing experiences can only happen abroad, but when I’m home I have the support of incredible friends and family minutes away. When they’re on the other side of an ocean, I’m more prone to take a deep breath and deal with the situation for myself.

I’ve learned that thinking ahead can help prevent many potential problems.

For example, whenever you leave the United States, bring your own peanut butter. It’s expensive and hard to find in other countries. I know I can live without its creamy goodness but, let’s be honest, I’d rather not. When I was visiting Morocco, they would eat lefsa with peanut butter for breakfast. Every morning I would get extra lefsa and peanut butter to carry around with me and eat later. Even though it was a sticky mess, I haven’t regretted that for a second because I was a little desperate for a salty taste of home. Unfortunately, I didn’t learn my lesson in Morocco, so I had to settle for Nutella and jelly sandwiches in Brazil, which are significantly inferior.

Next time I travel, I won’t make that mistake again.

One thing I have never regretted is starting a conversation with a stranger.

Travel friends are the most interesting and educational friendships to have. I’ve learned so much from people who just wander into my life for a short while during my travels.

When I was volunteering at the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro, I had hours to fill behind the scenes. Every day was a unique cultural experience surrounded by people from all over the world, including Brazil, Argentina, Venezuela, Colombia, Hong Kong, Russia, India and Spain. Jose taught me how to salsa dance. Andrea showed me how to samba.

Barbara taught me some Portuguese phrases. Elena introduced me to Yerba Matte, a common tea-like drink. Bruno demonstrated the proper way to cut tape with my teeth. Leandro directed me to the authentic Brazilian cuisine. Wagner helped me navigate the city transportation system. The list continues, but the point is that these people were complete strangers who became invaluable friends during my time in Rio. Coming from all walks of life, we formed a community around our shared experience and our collective boredom.

The travel friendships I’ve developed aren’t unique to Brazil. My network of relationships has expanded around the globe because of conversations I had when I was bored or lost or curious about local culture. These trivial encounters led to lifelong connections. If that’s not reason enough, having an

extra set of eyes to help watch my luggage happens to be an added bonus of making friends.

In Athens, my friends and I booked a day trip to a nearby island and planned to spend a day in the sun on pictureperfect beaches next to the crystal blue Mediterranean Sea. In actuality, we spent one of the strangest days of my life wandering around an island where cats outnumbered humans.

The only people we encountered were intensely trying to sell us pistachios. Oh, and in case you were wondering, it was freezing. When I think back on this strange day, the first thing I remember is our laughter as we rolled with the weirdness and tried to figure out a way off this seriously questionable island.

The moments of choosing between laughter and tears can define a trip and shape the memories that surround it. I’ve learned that I can choose to enjoy and appreciate my opportunity to explore the world, even during the difficulties that I will certainly encounter. For every frustration, near meltdown and actual meltdown, there are several more moments of joy, excitement and awe. The people I’ve met and the memories I’ve made in my wanderings are far more meaningful than any of the hard stuff. Combined, the good and the bad moments from my travels all add up to treasured memories, invaluable lessons and crazy stories that no single Instagram post or 10-second story could ever convey. >>

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Cactus Island, Salar de Uyuni, Bolivia.

â&#x20AC;&#x153;The stars receded as the purples and oranges of a new day marched across the barren salt flats, recklessly throwing their colors at whatever stood in the way.â&#x20AC;? By Kevin McCawley

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MIGA, SUA LOCA!

BY NICOLE EMANUEL

I’ve always dreamed of going to the Olympics.

During the 2016 Summer Olympic Games in Brazil, that dream became reality. At an early age I realized that I would never be a world-class athlete, so I decided to find another way to be part of the most epic event in the world. Sitting in my freshman dorm watching the Winter Olympics in Russia, I realized that it takes a massive amount of work and effort to organize an Olympic-size event. For an experience like that and a chance to be part of the excitement, I volunteered. The 2016 Olympic and Paralympic Games are obviously over, but I never get tired of telling the stories from my experience as a 2016 Olympic Press Operations Volunteer in Rio de Janeiro.

The volunteer application process for the Olympic Games is lengthy. Patience is a must, but it also takes a reasonable amount of diligence. Month after month for over a year I submitted the next step, whether that be training videos, a language test, a group Skype interview or something else, and continued to wait for approval. I officially accepted my volunteer schedule in May 2016, and that’s when the real work began. Booking flights, connecting with other volunteers and finding housing was a whole separate process. Volunteers were responsible for all financial costs except the uniform, a meal while you were working and a pass to use public transportation.

On August 3, after years of anticipation and against the advice of basically everyone, I boarded a flight to Rio de Janeiro and the 2016 Olympic Games. << 10

It seemed as if Rio de Janeiro was on hold to celebrate the Games; the city was electric with enthusiasm.

Hundreds of thousands of yellow volunteer uniforms integrated into the masses of tourists and locals all over the city. When I stepped off the plane disoriented and fatigued, these people helped me connect with Wagner. Wagner is the best driver in the history of mankind. Five stars. 10 out of 10 would recommend. He spoke English, waited with my luggage for hours while I got my volunteer accreditation and uniform, and he drove me all the way across town to Barra de Tijuca where I met my roommates at our Airbnb. I shared an apartment with Jennifer and Jessica, twins from Florida, and Elizabeth from New Orleans. The first night we went out to dinner and ended up singing karaoke with a few locals. I never imagined that I would perform “I Want to Know What Love Is” in front of an audience of enthusiastic Brazilians; but trust me, it was epic, and it was just the beginning of the adventures to come. My roommates and I explored the beaches, experienced the Rio atmosphere and experimented with Brazilian cuisine.

Traveling pro-tip: bring your own peanut butter, because the rest of the world has not embraced its creamy goodness.

On my first day of work, I wandered through a maze of fencing and security before finally reaching

Riocentro Pavilion 3 and connecting with the Press Operations Team. These amazing people came together from Spain, Venezuela, Russia, Hong Kong, India, Argentina, Brazil and all over the world to help the media cover Table tennis. At first I was skeptical of table tennis, what a lame sport right? Turns out, it’s much more intense and entertaining than I predicted.

However, after two weeks of long shifts and countless matches, I have had my fill of table tennis for the foreseeable future.

I filled my downtime with cultural experiences, learning from my fellow volunteers. These lessons included Portuguese practice, Samba and Salsa dance lessons and Yerba Matte tastings. In addition to my new network of friends around the globe, I gained invaluable insight into how media from all over the world function at such a large event. I witnessed how each problem is addressed and every last detail is coordinated. Basically, I learned a lot during my two weeks as an Olympic Volunteer.

One of the Portuguese phrases I learned was “Miga, sua loca!” It roughly means “Girl, you’re crazy!” My Brazilian friend Elena would say this to me daily, but it’s a pretty good summary of my Olympic adventures. There were definite struggles and unforgettable moments of fun. In spite of haters and doubts, I’m thankful for the opportunity to live my dream at the 2016 Summer Olympics. >>

“One of the Portuguese phrases I learned was “Miga, sua loca!” It roughly means “Girl, you’re crazy!” My Brazilian friend Elena would say this to me daily, but it’s a pretty good summary of my Olympic adventures.”

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PONTE VECCHIO

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VENICE

BY JENNA FITZGERALD 13 >>

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N E PA L

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N E P A L

BY AVERY SASS

I’ve been back from Nepal for five months. A lot of the time it feels like I’ve only been back for five days, and I hadn’t honestly processed my three-week photojournalism trip in the third world country until a couple months after.

I spent my three weeks at a Buddhist nunnery in the capital city of Kathmandu. Originally, I wanted my multimedia story to be centered on Tibetan refugees who escaped from China to practice their religion. However, the dangers of refugees speaking up on camera was too extreme and could cause consequences for their families in Tibet, the Nepalese government and the nunnery itself.

My story became more about the daily life of a Buddhist nun. I could go on about the lessons I learned and how I was shaped by my experiences.

nuns who love American pop music and have to put your hands over your eyes because you have stage fright but do it anyway.

2.

You are affecting everyone around you with every action and word you speak; everyone’s story matters.

The friendship that grew with my translator, Urbashi, is something I will never forget, as well as the hug through tears she gave me after explaining how much our experiences together have meant to her.

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Never avoid conversations that challenge what you believe about life, faith and love. A new understanding of how someone sees life is imperative to understanding more about yourself and the world.

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It’s hard to not be selfish as a photojournalist.

Understanding intentions and outcomes is more important than trying to find a “killer story” or working towards a potential award. I found myself questioning my own reasoning for pushing boundaries with the nunnery and possible harm that could be caused from this story. It will always be about them.

5.

I’ll stick to my top 6: 1. A friendly smile will always go a long way and make

someone feel connected to you, even when you do not speak the same language. The language barrier was something I have understood with a new perspective and challenged me to rely on other ways of communicating through body language, observing, and just simply being around the women. Actions do speak louder than words.

And you just might be forced to sing Justin Bieber’s “Love Yourself ” by some of the young English-speaking << 16

Singing “Happy Birthday” is universal. Urbashi arrived later the evening of my birthday and surprised me with a cake and rallied the nuns who we had grown close to light a candle and sing happy birthday- which was actually just a chorus of repeating “happy birthday ahvray sauce, happy birthday ah-vray sauce” in a wide array of pitches. They then buried me with traditional white scarves of good luck and proceeded to feed me cake and actually just smear the cake all over my face. I will never forget my 21st birthday.

6. People always desire the same thing out of life- to

understand the purpose of being here on earth, and to be happy. The interpretation of the meaning of life from the Buddhist religion has challenged me excessively every day. and even worn me down.

These experiences made me stronger and helped me understand the human race to a different degree, something I never expected. >>

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L O N D O N

PHOTOS BY

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E N G L A N D

MADDIE BLUM

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LONDON B Y

K AY L A

P U N T

London is magical: I’m convinced of it and I think JK Rowling

is as well. Each window on the multiple fire truck red double-decker buses was a History Channel documentary, and each step on the cobblestoned streets was a strange reminiscence of memories past.

Thousands upon thousands of years made their mark in the most peculiar of forms on the old city: afternoon tea served in blue and white porcelain, a Navy cruiser floating lazily on the waves of the Thames, and abandoned but never forgotten scarlet phone booths. Everyone from little girls with blonde pigtails and pink heart-patterned dresses to grown men–suit, tie and all–line up within Kings Cross Station to wear a scarf worn by millions of other fans and pretend for just a second that they can pass through walls. London. Wow.

To keep me from rambling myself into a 1,000+ word essay on my weekend getaway, which I know everyone would thoroughly enjoy, this post will act as a sort of bullet journal with photos splattered on the page to add a dash of visual aesthetic. So grab your reading glasses (I’m talking to you, mom,) and prepare to feast your eyes on all of the treacle tarts and pumpkin juices London had to offer (I told you there’d be Harry Potter allusions, although I suppose this little anecdote defeats the purpose).

Pro Tip:

Do not take the tube if you can avoid it. A single pass to central London costs £5.70 whereas those History Channel double-deckers I mentioned earlier cost £1.50 per ride, and it’s all on the same system (dubbed Oyster cards) so if you do find a need to get somewhere fast, the many, many tube stations are readily available. For every pound, there is $1.50 in US dollars. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you lose money there.

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Day 1 Sights: Changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, Trafalgar Square, Elizabeth Tower (Big Ben), London Eye, London Bridge, Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, Westminster Abbey, Supreme Court Building, London Tower, Millennium Bridge, the Shard.

Day 2 Sights: 221b Baker Street (the fictional Sherlock Holmes’ home), Platform 9 and 3/4, British Museum, Kensington Palace and Gardens, M&M World, China Town, London Platform 9 and 3/4 was everything my eight-year-old self with Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban practically glued to her face could have wanted and more. I honestly cannot comprehend nor tell you why simply taking a picture in front of that wall and then buying a t-shirt made me wonder why people take drugs.

There was just something about finally being there – where my love for the books figuratively began– that made me feel like I’d just taken a swig of Felix Felicis.

I’m probably one of the biggest Harry Potter nerds you’ll find–I just don’t show it too often. I’ve read the books 8 times because that’s the number of Horcruxes Voldemort divvies up, I could tell you all about Rowling’s supposed use of a ring theory in her construction of the series, and I can give you small details like the fact that Number 4 Privet Drive was given this number because Rowling despises the number four. I have a Pottermore account (sorted Ravenclaw and given a 14 and 1/2 beech wood wand with a unicorn hair core, unbending flexibility) and I’ve scoured JK Rowling’s personal website for minute facts.

Harry Potter was my childhood, and it kickstarted my love for novels. I would be a different person–well, a different major, at least–without those books. So being at Kings Cross was a big deal for me.

The British Museum is a physical manifestation of cultural conquest. Preserved puzzle pieces of Egyptian, Grecian, and Roman architecture spot the stainless walls and ceilings. Mummies, Samuri warriors, and crocodile skeletons, oh my! The original Rosetta Stone sits behind glass surrounded by a hoard of home-grown paparazzi.

The fifth wonder of the classical world is reconstructed in one room–the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus. Easter Island relics that unfortunately don’t chew bubblegum (as far as I know) gaze down at the hundreds of tourists that gaze up every day. All of these artifacts from around the world shipped straight to London. And it’s free. That’s Western domination for you.

Back in 1613, a cannon misfire turned the Globe Theatre into a pile of ash. Then in 1644, after that pile of ash became art once more, the puritan victors of the London civil war demolished the apparently “demonic” structure. When Sam Wanamaker stumbled upon a mere

plaque in 1950 marking the spot where the famous theatre once stood, he said “London can do better than this” and reconstructed the whole thing. I gladly paid the 10 pounds to tour inside.

Afternoon tea is a must have in London, although if you want to sip and enjoy finger sandwiches at a nicer restaurant (The Orangery at Kensington Palace, per say), then make sure to book a reservation online or over the phone!

In our 10 bed Hostel, Amber, Natalie and I had the pleasure of meeting David, a very British, very enthusiastic university student who couldn’t find a flat back in September. He told us he worked for the hostel owners and arranged roommates for himself, dropped the “s” when mentioning to friends where he lived, and wore British flag socks under his trousers.

London is the kind of city that deserves to be romanticized all out of proportion. >>

Best,

Kayla

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Cotonou AFRICA

A JOURNAL ENTRY BY JAYDE CARSTENS said we needed to see their supermarket because it actually was kind of like an a supermarket back home. It was a good idea because if we had forgotten anything we could pick it up here. We then came back to the hotel we stayed in at Cotonou the first night and took what we would call them a siesta! Which is our word for nap. We didn’t intend to sleep for 2 and a half hours but we did. We were so refreshed when we woke up! That night we were supposed to go to a dinner show but it was canceled so we ended up eating supper at the hotel. This was quite the experience.

We got served fish. I think mine was tilapia, except the fish here still have all the bones and the teeth. It is literally the full fish! I was not a huge fan of this because I’m not a huge seafood person! I did make it through it though! We hung out in the garden of the hotel after and it was so relaxing. This night I remember looking up and looking at the stars and being in awe of how wonderful it is to get the opportunity to travel the world and examine God’s beautiful creation. >>

It’s already day 5!

We woke up and headed to breakfast where we ordered omlettes. Once again, very delicious. They are a little different than the omlettes back home but in a good way. All the food here is different, even the ketchup. We had to wait for our breakfast check for quite a while. Then, we packed up our stuff and headed to a cultural museum in Porto Novo. Here we saw the different masks they use in their religious vodoom cermonies. Voodoom is a certain type of religion in Benin. We traveled back to Cotonou and had lunch near the airport at a little diner. Then, Wes << 22

“This night I remember looking up and looking at the stars and being in awe of how wonderful it is to get the opportunity to travel the world.”

R I O

DE JANEIRO

PHOTOS BY SARAH VONASEK

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GOOD E ATS << 24

Photos by Leigh Hanson Lauren Harding Kayla Punt Nicole Emmanuel Audrey Beedle Sloan Nelson

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“The key to happiness is letting each situation be what it is instead of what you think it should be.”

BY KENDRA BUBB

All too often when we are growing up and on the road to adulthood, adventure and pure happiness take a backseat. We get so stressed out and weighed down by the pressures of life. This is why I am making the most of every second I have on this crazy experience. When I was a junior in high school, I made friends with a few super awesome foreign exchange students who I spent a lot of time with. One in particular was from Germany. I had always heard how beautiful Germany was, and he had a lot of really interesting stories about it, so when he left I said, “Don’t be surprised when I show up at your door one day.” I don’t think he believed me, but sure enough, I made the trip to Munich to visit him. I wasn’t sure what to expect from Germany, so I didn’t really make any plans or have a list of things I just had to do.

On the first night, I met the whole squad.

We all went down to a small pool hall/bar to hang out. It reminded me so much of home and the group of guys I was hanging out with reminded me so much of my friends from home- always telling jokes and just being obnoxious. I also confirmed that night that I have zero ability to play pool. I got << 26

the vibe of what it’s like to actually live in Germany because we were in a small town outside of any big cities. The next day, we spent in the city center of Munich. In the aftermath of World War II, over 45 percent of Munich was destroyed by the war. This left very few older buildings, but it also created a very intriguing mix of modern architecture with old, Bavarian style architecture. We walked through open air markets, shops and stopped for some typical Bavarian style food. Two words: Life.

Changing. Europe has definitely taught me to not be afraid to try new food. Two months ago, if you were to tell me everything I would have tried while here, I would have thought you were crazy. But this was possibly the best lunch I’ve had since arriving in Europe. It was drumstick chicken with traditional beer gravy, and potatoes, sauerkraut, butter noodles and roasted veggies. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Talk about a food coma.

My third day was a day to remember. I have always been extremely interested in World War II and everything that happened as a result, and I’ve done quite a bit of research on it. So on this day, we went to Dachau Work Camp Memorial. There’s no

way to put into words the solemn feeling one gets when you enter the gate with ‘Arbeit Macht Frei’ or ‘Work Sets You Free’ across it. And to add to the effect, it was a cold, rainy and dreary morning.

You can read about it all you want or write as many papers as your assigned about it, but there’s something about standing where it happened that made it all seem so much more real.

While in Germany, we visited so many palaces and castles (you know, because my parents always told me I’m a Princess). I’ve seen quite a few impressive old structures while in Europe, but the castles I saw here were absolutely breathtaking.

On my last day, we took a road trip through the Alps Mountains. As I’ve said before, the mountains are my favorite place in the world so I was overly excited. I seriously felt like I was in a fairytale the whole day. We had perfect weather, blue skies and a bright, warm sun, perfect road trip music, and the whole day to explore the mountains. We drove through the mountains into Austria and stopped for lunch in a perfectly quaint little village along the river with impressive views of snow capped peaks all around us. For me, the most astonishing castle was Neuschwanstein. Perfectly situated between two mountain peaks, it is a scene straight out of a fairytale storybook and a perfect place for any hopeless romantic (like myself) to spend a day at.

Needless to say, I had a perfect and relaxing five days in Germany. I met some amazing new friends, learned that German sounds like a VCR being fast-forwarded, got to catch up with an old friend, had some amazing food and breathtaking views. I will absolutely be back someday and I hope to get to have the chance to stay for a much longer time, and who knows, maybe even learn some German.

“I seriously felt like I was in a fairytale the whole day. We had perfect weather, blue skies and a bright, warm sun, perfect road trip music, and the whole day to explore the mountains.”

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DRIFTING THROUGH THE STARS

BY KAYLA PUNT I dream of drifting through the stars, Leave through the windows to the soul, Cradled in the lights of a city, Brightness bundled around me whole.

For the clouds hang low and heavy, Thunder grumbles in clear distaste, Like a train rattling along To a new distant, untold place.

How I long to leave the corn fields, To board those thundering tracks, But to carry these stars with me, Without one single glance back. >>

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SEA MUS

BY MIRANDA CHERRY

Spiddal has been described to me as mostly a summer location where people from the bustling cities in Ireland head down from June-August to enjoy a quiet warm seaside country escape. The locals, however, stick around for the rain, wind and flooding of the fall, winter and spring months.

Think of your typical rural Nebraska town then add some funny accents and better beer and you basically have Spiddal. The locals are best described as hardworking and witty. They’ll show you where the post office is but have a bit of a laugh at you for having to ask, so bring a thicker skin (both to fair the light hearted banter and cold Atlantic winds). They are especially interested in the ideas of rural Nebraska living such as brandings, “ponies” (horses), and the amount of land/guns you own.

Top asked questions of the trip were either political or geographical and usually ran along the lines of “where’s Nebraska?” and “are you voting for Trump?”

Overall, I consider my talks with a man named Seamus as what social interaction with the locals is most like. He was an older man who was quick to notice my accent. He asked about land and then about cattle, talked about how he was born

in the same spot he watches TV in to this day. He discussed with me the very real health benefits of drinking 2 pints of Guinness every night, loves his Irish soap operas and follows them religiously — unless of course a storm knocks his antenna. He smokes as much as the fire that was in his favorite pub, next to which we often shared our talks.

Whenever he was getting ready to leave, I would buy him two fingers of Jameson, something he said he usually only drinks in celebration. He’d pat my head and offer to take me salmon fishing when the waters warm up. His calluses would catch strands in my hair, and he would always remind me to start the walk home early, “before the storm hits” even if there wasn’t a storm forecasted that evening.

Over the course of my three-month stay in Ireland I found myself frequenting his favorite pub haunt. He taught me things like how to talk about politics in Ireland and the rules of hurling. Seamus was a gentle man who truly enjoyed hard work and more than anything those two fingers of Jameson I traded him for his time. Like I said funny accents and better beer — rural Ireland is simply an aftertaste of Nebraska life but with an Oceanside view. >> 29 >>

From recent travels all alone, Through six new countries and time zones, The most important thing I have learned: There is no house that is a home.

A home is not the walls that surround, But instead the people you have found: Your family, friends, those you can trust, The things in life that make life a must.

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PHOTOS AND POEM BY LEIGH HANSON 31 >>

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Aren’t we all humans composed of contradictions needing to be loved?

Parts of me are blue much more than I can explain one day I’ll be green In you, there is light so bright it hurts to embrace But I will - always Products of our thoughts mine will all be beautiful sometime in my life You fill me with life you’re my favorite shade of green paint me with your love B Y

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J E N N A

F I T Z G E R A L D

EUROPE Photos by Lauren Harding

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C Copacetic Publishing << 36