From Madeleine Baldwin ’27 in Athens, Greece
I chose to study abroad in Athens, Greece, because I really wanted to immerse myself in a dynamic foreign city, learn about ancient history and indulge in the rich, delicious food.
However, the experience was rewarding in a far more hands-on way as well. I spent a week on Despotiko, a secluded excavation site on an island in the Cyclades, helping to dig for 6 hours and cooking all my food and with barely any cell service.
Each morning, I woke up at 6:30 a.m. to a rooster crowing, then took the 7:30 a.m. ferry from Antiparos to Despotiko to begin the day’s work. My group and I uncovered the surface of an archaic wall, old and weathered.
This photo, taken by a friend, shows the view from Despotiko looking out at Antiparos. There are lots of sheep and goats pictured in front of the clear, blue water, because the excavation site bordered a shepard’s farm. The shepherd would often appear on the site, yelling in Greek.
From Lance Paul Sunga ’26 in Prague, Czech Republic
I wonder what other museum-goers thought when they saw us: 15 college students taking over the children’s section to color pages of a car-themed coloring book. It felt like we regressed back to our childhood selves, focusing on choosing the perfect colors and showing off our finished pages. I colored my car a soft baby blue.
It’s that feeling — of discovery, of excitement in the small things — that I know I will miss the most when I come back to the U.S. Back home, I have to think seriously about being an adult. But here, I have the freedom to keep wandering, to find joy in the simple, unexpected and often childish things that make life feel a little more magical.
From Aidan Muller ’27 in Paris, France
I’ll miss my host family and our neighborhood. Their tiny, quintessential Parisian apartment, overflowing with books, funky decor and little trinkets, quickly became home. I’ve loved returning each evening to share dinner and conversation with some of the quirkiest, kindest people I’ve ever met. I’ll miss my daily walks. If I can walk somewhere, I do. It’s one of the best ways to experience the city — admiring the architecture, people-watching and deciphering French advertisements along the way. I’ll miss sunbathing in parks and improving my listening skills by eavesdropping on Parisians. I’ll miss chatting with professors in the courtyard between classes. Honestly, I can’t think of anything I won’t miss. Still, I’m excited to return home, and I know, without a doubt, this won’t be my last time in Paris.
From Lauren Lim ’26 in Oxford, England
The March before I left for Keble felt like the longest month imaginable. Because Keble’s academic calendar starts later than Dartmouth’s, I watched all my friends head back to campus for spring term while I sat at home, essentially twiddling my thumbs. So when I finally walked onto Keble’s campus, with its perfectly trimmed green lawns, its red-brick exterior and unexpectedly blue skies, I felt a rush of relief. I was finally here.
That first week felt like freshman fall all over again. I wandered around trying to find buildings, cafes and the laundry room. Some people asked where in Asia I’m from, and I could see the flicker of surprise when I replied with an American accent, Bostonian hints and all. I’ve adapted: I now say I’m studying “politics” instead of “government,” I’m from “the States” instead of “America” and in my “third year” instead of “’26.”
None of the Dartmouth cohort students knew each other before this program, but we quickly bonded, summer-camp style. We’ve made it a mission to visit every Oxford college, dine in as many stunning halls as possible —though I still need to add a bit of salt and pepper to my plate — and take impromptu walks to pubs. The bartender asks for our IDs and jokingly exclaims, “21?!” before apologizing and pouring a half-pint.
It’s only — and already — been a month. The halfway point of a term that’s moving even faster than Dartmouth’s. Every night before bed, I scroll through a Google Photos album my Dartmouth friends back home update. When my parents ask how I’m doing, I say, “All I do is write papers — but I have fun in between.”
From Miaoxuan Hermia Huang ’26 in Prague, Czech Republic
My experience in Czechia has been shaped by my goal of establishing a deep relationship with the land. Being part of the geography program makes that incredibly easy: we spend hours on trams and subways, traveling through the veins of Prague. We visit dams and mining sites in the country’s borderlands. We talk to people working in automobile and glass factories. This process of acquiring local knowledge helps me find a sense of rootedness, bit by bit.
But my favorite memory isn’t geography-related at all. Somehow, I’ve joined a rock band in Prague. As a music major, I try to connect with local people through music by going to jam sessions, concerts and musician meetups. That’s how I found a shoegaze band that happened to be looking for a drummer. I soon found myself commuting on weekends to a rehearsal room on the residential outskirts of Prague.
On those long bus rides with my bandmates, we talk about music, work and all the minute things in life — it’s in those moments that I feel the heartbeat of the city. It’s like I’ve entered an alternate reality where I am truly a Praguer, even if it’s only for the ten weeks I spend here.
Sometimes I think being an international student makes the study abroad experience even more layered. There’s the original me, and there’s an American,Dartmouth version of me — and now both of them enter this liminal space and becoming someone new.
From Frank Gallo ’27 in Prague, Czech Republic
The night our group flew into Prague — despite jet lag and little sleep — we decided it would be a good idea to meet for dinner and explore the city. That adventure soon turned into hours of wandering through the disorienting labyrinth of streets. But as the weeks went on, those same confusing streets slowly wove themselves into my mental map of the world. I began to orient myself by the winding alleys and the slope of the hills, recognizing which districts held which architectural styles. The city started to feel more familiar.
I found comfort in my daily strolls to the tram stop, in the rhythm of grocery runs for vegetables, in the act of delicately budgeting myself. The robotic announcements on public transport became ingrained in my memory. I’d adjusted, but only somewhat.
Still, Prague remains both familiar and foreign, a place where I feel at home and like a visitor all at once. Not knowing Czech, and not being used to big-city life, has made living here occasionally frustrating, sometimes overwhelming. My daily routine differs so drastically from my life at home that I often feel as if I’m living in an alternate universe, carrying out similar tasks, but in an entirely different context. Yet, learning to adapt to this environment, even temporarily, has deeply enriched my life. It’s made me more resilient and more grounded in my values, growth I know I’ll carry with me long after I leave.
