How I Funded my Study Abroad Dream (part two)

(click here to read part one)

What is the best kept secret for students searching for study abroad funding?

*drum roll

 

 

It is the Benjamin A. Gilman International Scholarship!   A huge chunk of my study abroad funding came from Gilman. The program (run through the Department of State) offers generous scholarships for low-income students. Technically it’s not a secret at all. In fact, if I could I  would shout about this scholarship on the rooftops of my university. It is an incredible opportunity not enough students take advantage of!

Turns out the typical study abroad student is white, female, affluent and tends to study in Western Europe. The U.S. Government wants citizens from all backgrounds to have diverse international experiences. To that end, if you are:

✅ A U.S. Citizen

✅ An undergraduate student at an accredited institute of higher education (two-year or four-year college) in the United States

✅ A Federal Pell Grant recipient at the time of application

✅ Pursuing a study abroad program in a non-traditional location (i.e. not Paris or London)

You are eligible to apply!

The application process is simple. You sign up via online portal. You give the details of your dream program so that they can calculate how much money you need. The most important part of the application is the:

Statement of Purpose:

A short essay where you have the opportunity to make the scholarship committee believe in you and your dreams. Convey how your study abroad program will help you pursue your academic, personal and career goals. Describe the program and how important it is to you. This is your chance to convince the scholarship committee that they *want* to fund you. Essentially, the more effort you put into this essay the more funding you can get. So take the time to write a bomb essay!

Service Project Proposal: 

In return for funding, you will have to conduct a service project to help promote study abroad at your school (within 6 months of your return). This part of the application is not quite as important as the Statement of Purpose, but still make the effort to create a solid plan for how you can promote the Gilman Scholarship on your campus. Your service project can be unique so play to your strengths. Get creative! I love writing so I am promoting the Gilman Scholarship on this blog as part of my service project!

1. Fill out the application
2. Upload your essays
3. SUBMIT!

Then comes the loooong wait. Of course, you cannot be sure of anything. If you write a great application, Gilman will try to fill in the gaps between what you have and what you need to study abroad. I spent less than 10 hours on my application and earned thousands of dollars that made my summer study abroad trip possible. It is worth the effort!

How I Funded my Study Abroad Dream (part one)

$6,000. 

That was the price tag for a 3-week study abroad trip to an archeological dig in Jerusalem (including the class fee, lodging, airfare, spending money, etc.).

I heard about my dream study abroad program my first semester at UNC Charlotte. It wasn’t until my final semester that I actually got the guts to open an application. After all, 6,000 dollars is an impossible number… right?

Wrong. 

Midway through my final semester I had two realizations:

1. After college am I going to have the opportunity to participate in an archeology dig in Jerusalem? Probably not. 
2. After college will I have access to scholarships to receive funding for my dream international experience? No. 

I was taking 21 credit hours, tutoring, and teaching homeschool classes. Pulling together 6,000 seemed impossible, but I had to try.

Honestly, the decision to just. go. for. it. was the hardest part of the process. Once I started research I learned that the Office of Education Abroad wants to make studying abroad possible for every student.

REMEMBER: It takes time, research, effort, and a bit of luck, but there are adequate resources available to help fund your dream study abroad trip! 

Personally, I was able to piecemeal enough funding by

• Applying to every every scholarship I was eligible for from my university.
• I had my FAFSA recalculated and earned an additional summer pell grant
• Working as many extra hours as possible
• Applying to every contest in my academic department and applying all of the award money I earned to my study abroad savings

College is a unique period of life. There are organizations (including the U.S. Government) waiting to help you pursue your dreams. If you feel like you aren’t the kind of kid who could ever study abroad, you are exactly the kind of person scholarship boards are looking for!

Once you commit to studying abroad, here is how to make it happen:

The first step is to declare your dreams to the folks at the Study Abroad Office. They can help you make a plan and connect you to resources.

Second, make sure and visit the Financial Aid Office. There is a new federal policy that allows students to apply summer pell grant funding to study abroad experiences. You may be able to have your FAFSA recalculated and receive a substantial grant (like I did). Too many students miss out on federal funding because they never do the research!

Third, do not forget to apply to all the scholarships (and contests) that you are eligible for on your campus. I was surprised by the amount of cash reward opportunities I found once I started looking! They tend to float around college campuses.

Finally, it comes down to sticking to the plan. Don’t get discouraged. Make a budget and stay with it. When things get tough, keep your goals in view.

It was a crazy journey, but honestly the hardest part was taking the plunge and deciding I am going to do this. If you are determined to study abroad before graduating you can find funding to make that dream come true!

Are you convinced yet? Then check out part two of this post: the BEST KEPT SECRET for funding studying abroad!

What I Found Digging (or how my ditch became famous)

Y’all know I love the ditch I worked in. Guess what? It’s famous now. Here’s the story:

SPOILER ALERT: No, I did not find the Ark of the Covenant. Carry on. 

Via the Times of Israel

I have to admit, coming into the dig site I was hoping to work in an Iron Age or early Roman area. It would be cool to imagine, however improbably, that the stuff I touched had been handled by King David or Jesus.

I’m not a fan of crusaders and I know embarrassingly little about the Fatimid era. But I was put in a ditch with amazing people and didn’t complain.

It became home. Deep in the ground at the back of the dig site, we were safe from drama. For the majority of the dig, our area was not the top priority of the site. So we just kinda did our thing.

Our team got on tremendously well. We sang. We danced. We drank iced coffee. And of course we worked really really hard.

One day after lunch we hunted down our area supervisors, sat in the courtyard of our hotel and had them tell us the history behind our dig. They explained the fascinating alleged story of July 15th, 1099 — the First Crusade attack on Jerusalem. They also exclaimed that the story was recorded in history but never proved with archeological evidence.

From that point on, the ditch team had a vision. We had the chance to prove a story that had been hearsay for hundreds of years. So of course, we kept on picking, troweling, sweeping, and singing Disney songs at the top of our lungs.

Side note: there is a lot of luck involved in archeology. A few of the site areas worked as hard as we did, moved way more dirt around, and found nothing but disappointment. So I have to say, we were SO LUCKY that our area found amazing things.

First we found a dazzling Fatimid earring. I was right next to our area supervisor when she uncovered it! After a long day hunched over sweeping dirt around, I could hardly believe my eyes. Y’all, gold doesn’t fade. There it was — a dazzling piece of jewelry that had not been touched for centuries!

Via the Times of Israel

That was the moment I understood how people could get addicted to archeology.

Next we found arrowheads and crusader crosses in our ditch and in the Fatimid house across the way. The story of July 15th, 1099 unraveled in the dirt around us.

And now my beloved ditch is famous!* It is weird to feel like my work was a tiny part of a major discovery.

If you are interested in learning more, read the original news article about our findings here. You can read more about the First Crusade here. Or watch a video here.

*something only an archeologist could ever say : ) 

Stuck in Spain — How American Airlines Won Me Over With Free Food

When I booked my tickets for this trip I was excited to be flying through the Madrid airport. I joked about secretly hoping to get stuck there for a couple of days.

My mistake. 

My flight home was one of the most harrowing travel experiences I have had so far. It started at 1am with 2 hours of sleep and a caffeine withdrawal headache.

I took a taxi to the train station, pretended to know Hebrew getting through security, got on a train and hoped for 40 minutes that it was the right one, got to the airport and started the security process.

And let me tell you, it was a process. 

Israeli security unabashedly racially profiles. Because I am not an 18-35 Arab male, I figured my interrogation would be friendly and harmless. It was, until the young security officer found my Arabic learning journal.

She immediately called her supervisor. If she could have read Arabic she would have known that the book was filled with phrases as dangerous as:

“Do you have falafel?” 

“My favorite food is Baba Ganouj.” 

“How much is the Shawarma?” 

“I would like to order a Baklava.” 

*My language learning priorities are umm, a bit skewed…Skewered? Lamb kebab? Yum!

The supervisor flipped through the notebook without taking time to read a single phrase.

“Why are you learning Arabic?”

“Well, I study Middle Eastern history…”

*she interrupted me and pointed to the offensive notebook.*

“Why are you learning Arabic and not Hebrew?”

It struck me that to El Al security officers the entire language of Arabic is criminal. Eventually she let me go and I made my way to my gate.

My flight to Madrid was great. It was the flight from Madrid to Charlotte that proved problematic. As we taxied out of the gate our pilot told us there was a mechanical issue, it would just be a minute…

fidget. fidget.

Three. Hours. Later. 

They finally cancelled our flight.

The plane was a mess of curses, tears and screaming babies. They kept us cooped up for another forty minutes before opening the plane doors. We (and yes we were an angry collective by this point) marched off the plane.

I knew there would be an hour long line getting back through customs and a wait at the baggage claim. Then, according the airport staff, I was supposed to take a train to another terminal (30 minutes away) to find the allusive “lounge eleven,” where I could get into another 3 hour line to use a phone, then wait on hold for who knows how long to speak to an American Airlines representative and book a new flight.

Hangry travelers meandered through passport control, hoping to find an American Airlines agent who could give them a better solution. “Where is lounge eleven?” echoed through the crowd.

I figured out how to rebook my flight using the American Airlines app and tried to help others do the same thing.

(Pro Tip: DO NOT settle and do just what the airline agents tell you to do. They are working for their company, not for your best interests. DO download your airline’s app before your trip. Oftentimes there are great functionalities, particularly for when things go wrong).

After picking up my luggage I noticed a confused crowd of people following American Airline agents into busses. It looked like a field trip, so of course I followed them!

American Airlines sent us all to nearby hotels for the night. I accidentally got placed on the bus to the first class peeps hotel! You best believe I enjoyed it!

We had a free dinner provided at the hotel buffet. When I arrived to the dining room, the waiters placed me at a table for the “cancelled American” people. We commiserated about the evil that is American Airlines and shared travel stories.

Guys. The hotel buffet had Paella (Spain’s national dish) and sword fish! My anger and exhaustion fully melted when I saw the free gelato bar.

The next day I headed back to the airport. At the customer service counter, an agent asked me to volunteer to stay back another day. Apparently my flight was overbooked 30 people. I remembered the hot chocolate and churros they served at the hotel breakfast and decided to take them up on their offer. I could explore Madrid!

Then the agent explained that I had to go all the way through security, passport control, wait for everyone to board and then *IF* they filled the whole plane they would send me back through the airport, to baggage claim, put me on a bus and take me back tot he hotel.

So much for exploring Madrid for a full day.

I made my way through the airport, sat by the gate and started working on homework. As everyone else boarded I chilled, tapping my watch in the hopes that I could get back to the hotel at a decent hour and catch a bus to the main city.

After the plane boarded and just three or four other volunteers lurked around, I walked up to the desk to claim the $1,000 travel credit I had been promised. The lady at the desk  looked at my ticket and said

“You need to get on that plane!”

“Wait what? I’m a volunte…”

“Right now!”

So I ran into the plane and flew home. Goodbye Spain. I won’t miss you.

A Day In the Life — Netanya Edition

My three extravagant weeks digging and touring with my university are over. I am finishing my time in Israel visiting friends in a far less touristy city.

I am glad I have a few days to explore at a normal pace of life: evening walks on the beach, strolling through neighborhoods to the post office, playing with kids, COOKING (oh my how I miss my kitchen!). 

This is why I came to Israel: to ask questions about the food, the education system, and job opportunities. To join in on real life here. To imagine (albeit from a limited tourist’s perspective) what it would be like to stay. 

Don’t get me wrong, I loved visiting ancient sites and taking an obligatory photo in the Dead Sea. Still, I am much happier just visiting the grocery stores.

(Maybe I should start a photo series posing with grocery stores around the world? There is nothing like a grocery store to give an instant look into the daily life of a place!) 

At the hotel I didn’t need to worry about turning the heat on 20 minutes before a shower. I didn’t have to stock up on two weeks of groceries before Passover. I never had to convince a child that we could not wait fifteen minutes for Shabbat to end just to ride the carousel. I didn’t have to manage two kids on scooters every time I needed to walk to the grocery store, take breaks on the way to pour water on their heads and keep them hydrated, and collapse exhausted after 40 minutes completing errands in the oppressive sun. 

Real life in Israel is not glamorous, but I still love it. Also, watermelon and ice cream of *essentials.* If this isn’t my natural habitat, I don’t know what is!

I am thankful for my friends here who are helping me taste this place a little better.

The View from Jerusalem

This post is going to be more of the reflectivish type. Here’s a photo of me staring into the Sea of Galilee to set the tone.

See? Dramatic.

Okay, let’s go.

It is my last day here in Jerusalem. I have begun to consider what I expected to find here versus what surprised me.

In all honestly, the city mostly met my expectations: Orthodox Jews weaving in out out between crowds of tourists, impressive religious monuments marked by commercialism, contested spaces delicately shared, the juxtaposition of ancient and modern, subtle hints of the Palestine-Israel conflict, and a few blatant reminders of present injustices.

The sights and sounds are fascinating, but not unexpected. I have been more surprised by the city’s affect on me. I think one of the benefits of spending a month away from home is the opportunity I have to look at my life from a distance. 

This is not unique to Jerusalem. By positioning myself in a faraway place (and opening to a new way of life here), I can look back at the rigamarole of my daily routine from a different perspective. Not until this morning did I embrace that particular benefit of travel.

At first, I felt kinda guilty for it. I mean, I have limited time in this unique place. Once in a lifetime experiences call from every corner. It is hard to say no when I need to take time to be alone.

Is it worth it to take a day off from bouncing between tourist destinations to sit in a coffee shop and journal? Is it worth it to wake up two hours early (despite the precious little time we have to sleep) to write a blog post?

I think so.

Getting the most out of this trip requires not merely packing in bucket list adventures, but reflecting, absorbing, and using these experiences to grow.

I am not saying I need to “find myself,” choose a life path, and figure out the universe on this trip (hahoooo no, that’s pressure). I am enjoying processing.

When else will I have the opportunity to consider my goals and growth from the vantage point of JERUSALEM?

Perhaps that is a more fantastic opportunity than a 30 shekel 10 feet camel ride.

Now, just to cap this post off, here is a picture of me posing with Gehenna (or hell) in the background. Now I can say I have been to hell and back  : )

 

The Great American Search for Price Tags

I’ve been in Jerusalem for over two weeks. One of the biggest culture shocks so far is the bargaining culture. Every time you buy a souvenir (or even a coke), you are expected to put forth the effort to start a “relationship” with the salesperson. It is not the easiest (nor the quickest) way to shop.

For example, one morning whilst meandering down the Via Delarosa a salesman flagged me down and said he needed help translating “grand opening” into English. It was probably just a ploy to get me and my friends into his shop. He said he would give me a free pendant for my troubles and *slowly* created the pendant, taking regular breaks to show off his jewelry selection. Of course, because were his friends now, he promised to give us the best prices.

In the end, he “gave” me the pendant but sold me the chain to go with it (for a very good price, a friend’s price, of course).

Another jewelry salesman found one of my friends walking alone and invited him in for tea. He gave my friend earrings and told him to come back later with the money to pay for them. So my friend brought us all back for tea, coffee, and more bargaining.

Walking into a store is a commitment. Once I have shown interest in a product there is no turning back. Because walking out of the store is a bargaining tactic, I feel guilty doing that (even when I genuinely don’t want an item because it is out of my price range).

I’m sorry, but pretending to make a friend and then bantering about money is not my idea of a good time.

Where oh where are the price tags? Normally I would never buy souvenirs in a museum gift shop. Here gift shop price tags are a welcome sight, even if they are overpriced. At least they don’t start out as triple what they should be.

The whole “I am only offering you this price because you are a student… or you are so kind… or you are so beautiful…” doesn’t feel genuine anymore.

Yet there are times where the shallow salesman to customer “relationship” starts to feel  like something more.

Like when I stopped into a tiny gift store off Jaffa Street. After a long conversation about archeology, history, and food the salesman gave me a bracelet despite the fact that I forgot to bring cash with me. He told me I could come back and pay for it later, or if I forgot, that was okay too.

Or when an expert spice salesman gave me and my friend samples of over 10 different spice and tea combinations, happily bantering with us the entire time.

 

Or when the man at my favorite corner store started giving me a cheaper price on seltzer water because he thinks it is funny that I stop by for a 1.5 liter almost every day.

Or when the servers at my favorite restaurant greet my friends and I as we walk back and forth to our dig site, commenting on our dirty clothes and asking us how our day went.

It is easy to make friends here in Jerusalem. In fact, relationships form the basis for even the most trivial of commercial interaction. It is hard to evaluate how much those friendships are worth.

Don’t Show me another Ancient Ruin

I am still falling in love with Jerusalem, but I would rather not visit anymore museums, beaches, pilgrimage destinations or ancient sites.

In the past three days I have hiked up the Masada, visited the caves of the Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran, swam in the Dead Sea, viewed ancient sites at Beth Shean, Hamat Tveriya, and Magdala, watched the sunrise over the Sea of Galilee, visited ruins at Sepphoris, Caesarea, and swam in the Mediterranean.

View of the Mediterranean from the port of Caesarea, where Paul appeared before Herod Agrippa and appealed to Caesar.

Many of these sites hosted over two thousands years of history. I could focus on the Canaanite story, the Jewish story, the Fatimid story, the Crusader story… or many others.

Earthquake destruction of the Roman city of Beit Shean (c. 749 A.D). The Romans built over a city that dates back to the Chalcolithic Era (6,000 years ago). On the hills lay Canaanite “high places” of worship and an Egyptian palace. It is the city where King Saul’s body was hung from he walls.

Not to mention how the ancient history fits into modern day Israel! Israel uses parks and museums to claim space and build a national story. It is a challenge to evaluate the competing narratives of tourist sites (museum organization, markers, introduction documentaries etc…) and my professor’s lectures.

Try balancing those considerations whilst hiking to three different sites in one morning. Now let’s make it 106 degrees.

Visiting an ancient site offers as much layering and contradiction as the stratigraphy of my crusader ditch (I miss that ditch. It is home).

Crusade era fortress built near an ancient Roman town. The crusaders reused stones and even TOMBS from nearby Roman ruins. Do you see the three tombs in this wall?

It feels horrid to say this, but I don’t think I need to see another Roman bath or Cardo. I cannot remember if the famous Amazon mosaic was at Sepphoris or somewhere else. How do I avoid having them run together in my head?

In the heat of the Dead Sea zone, a patch of shade looks more glorious than the most impressive ancient mosaics.

Please forgive me. This post may be the very definition of first world problems. I am not complaining in the slightest, but y’all I am plum tuckered out! 

I didn’t come to Jerusalem to catch up on sleep. I will do my best to absorb what I can where I am. This country is absolutely overwhelming, and I love it.

A Day At the Dig Site

4:01 am

The alarm blasts through the darkness of night. Me and my roommate shuffle about the room in silence. No talkie before coffee.

4:20 am 

I trapse down to the courtyard of our hotel to sip instant coffee with fellow bleary eyed dig friends.

4:30 am 

The whole group walks through the hushed streets of the old city.

At night, we keep our tools on a Palestinian family’s rooftop. We form a human chain to haul our equipment from their rooftop, through the alley, across the road, up a wall and into our dig site.

5:00 am

Me and my roommate Molly sneak back to the rooftop to “fill our water bottles.” We watch the sunrise over the Mount of Olives. It is one of my favorite parts of the whole day.

5:15 am 

By this point in the week everyone knows their territory. I head to my section to await instructions.

Some days I work at meticulously scraping away a Fatimid era floor, excavating centimeter by centimeter to avoid breaking finds. One day I worked picking and hoeing with a hard hat and headlamp deep in the ground. Today I am happy to be back in my trench (my favorite part of the dig). We are taking down a “balk” (wall of fill dirt), which means lots of sunshine and manual labor.

I’m so excited! I’ll take a pickaxe over a trowel any day of the week.

We blast our play list and get going.

6:00 am. 

Our next-door “neighbors” are deep in the ground working in an underground vault.  I take a water break to see what they’ve been working on.

7:30 am

A young Palestinian boy (who works as a runner on the site) stops by our trench. I try to teach him a bit of English in exchange for an Arabic lesson.

9:00 am. 

It feels like we have been working forever. My stomach is rumbling and I wonder if black coffee at 4:15 am was a good idea.

Finally… our area director calls for breakfast break. I scarf down bread, hummus and copious amounts of watermelon.

10:00 am.

I am exhausted and ready for a post-lunch (err breakfast) nap. Molly and I pick axe and sing Greatest Showman songs at the top of our lungs (its the best way to beat food coma doldrums).

10:15 am

A group of tourists stoop by the fence above our heads and take pictures of us as we work. Some shout down questions (that we are not allowed to answer).  It is weird to be a part of a tourist attraction.

11:40 am. 

The day is drawing to a close. Rumor has it someone in Area B found a tarantula. We begin bucket chaining loads of dirt from our area to the front of the site.

BEFORE:

AFTER: 

Now that’s a Transformation Tuesday. 

12:00 am 

Cleaning officially begins. It takes a while to clean our area for elevations and photographs. Even the dirtiest of pits must be brushed thoroughly (keeping the dirt off helps define stratigraphy and other features important for study and publication).

We bucket chain our supplies back up to the rooftop.

1:30 pm 

After cleaning up we have a debrief meeting to learn what everybody across the site found! Then we tread through the busy streets of Jerusalem to our hotel.

2:00 pm 

LUNCH. Oh blessed thing that you are!

I don’t know if it is how hungry we are or just how amazing George (the hotel chef) is at his job, but baba ganouj and falafel never tasted so good!

Now we are done with digging and our second day begins! Each afternoon we either go to pottery washing or take some form of walking tour. It is an exhausting schedule, but  I didn’t come to Jerusalem to catch up on sleep.

A Birthday in Jerusalem

Today I turned 23 in Jerusalem. It has been (hands-down) the best birthday of my life. This morning was our first break from waking up at 4am to dig (Hallelujah for Shabbat, the Jewish weekend!).

My roommate Molly and I slept until past 8am. By the time we headed to breakfast at 8:30, I felt like we should be eating lunch but did not deserve it (who eats breakfast before working five hours? Not archeologists!).

At breakfast, the whole dining room broke out into the happy birthday song. I have only known these fellow diggers for a week, but they already feel like family.

There is nothing like hanging out in a crusade era moat all day to promote deep friendships fast. On the second day of digging, we passed hours of meticulous excavating by playing the life story game.

We decided to tell our stories “deep as the Dead Sea.” Now me and my fellow Crusingers (we are territorial about our section of the dig site) are celebrating my birthday together.

This morning we toured the Israel Museum. The most exciting part was a model of Jerusalem during the Second Temple period and the Dead Sea Scrolls.

The museum contained a few relics from our dig site!

Seeing shards of glass and pottery identical to ones we excavated yesterday, made the museum even more interesting. It also made me appreciate the skill it takes to recover whole artifacts in such great condition!

Over all, the museum inspired me. Despite my exhaustion, I am ready to get back to my trench on Sunday.

But first, we have the weekend! Tomorrow we will have lunch with a Palestinian family in Bethlehem. I could not be more excited!

Goodbye! مع السلامة