Oberlin Blogs

There we were, plodding along side by side on the icy streets of Oberlin, snow soaking in through the mesh of our running shoes, brisk wind turning our limbs rosy red, winter sun on our faces.

To learn the routes of migration, we did in a couple of easy hours what takes most migrants four excruciating days.

There's much to be said about adverse conditions, turmoil, and challenges. They have a way of cutting right across a number of boundaries which previously seemed unalterable.

Today my program spent the afternoon in court. It's not what it sounds like.

It's possible to teach English, completely in English, to people who speak no English.

What if good intentions and a strong desire to "make a difference" aren't enough?

I have a lot going on, and the semester hasn't even started.

Not impressed? Well, I bet you won't believe what arrived in my mailbox this morning.

The second of two pieces I wrote during first semester about performances in Oberlin.

Living with a host family is a difficult adjustment after two and a half years in Oberlin's dorms.

I learned that there is a certain art to pie-making, kneading from the center out, making sure that the middle isn't too thin, and being careful to leave a slightly raised border along the outside so there's some semblance of crust after it bakes.

Once we landed at Cleveland-Hopkins Airport, I woke up and raced for the bus stop. After waiting outside for 10 minutes, I huddled indoors and discovered I had missed the last bus by 15 minutes. Gahhh.