Screwed in thoughts of Economics for Graduate School : An International Student Perspective

If your parents / scholarships are paying your graduate school escapades, stop reading, this blog this is not for your types. 

I couldn’t sleep well last night and finances of graduate school was going through my head all the time also the after effects in case of a failure to get a job. I pay for my own studies through a loan secured through a bank in India and hence the concern.

My only hope and prayer is US government should sort out the economics within and America should once again stand on its own feet, America should never ever ever ever fail, cause if it does so will I. 

So what was my concern?

1 US Dollar = 52 Indian Rupees (At current market prices)

My Tuition fees per semester  USD$11,000 x 4 Semesters = USD $44,000

1 month for living + food = USD $1000 x 24 months = USD 24,000

Income from on campus job USD $700 x 20 months = USD 14,000

Total two year expense = USD $54,000 or 2,808,000 Indian Rupees.

Average salary for a graduate in India = 500,000/Annum on a higher side – Taxes – Living Expense a maximum saving of 100,000 per annum could be achieved ( No vacations, not falling sick, minimal lifestyle)

That means it would take me 100,000 Indian Rupees x 28 years = 2,800,000 to repay my graduate loan.

Yes 28 years of my life.  

Average salary for a graduate in USA = $55,000 / Annum – Taxes – Living Expense a maximum saving of USD $20,000 per annum could be achieved (Some vacations, Insurance included, almost a good life compared to Indian standards)

That means it would take me USD $20,000 x 2.7 years = USD $54,000 to repay my graduate loan.

Hell Yeah just 2.7 years of my life.

I have 6 more months to graduate and find a job, 6 months later it would be decided if I live happily ever after or just……….

God Bless America and me.

Coming Home/Moving Away

I've been asked to blog about "coming home," which is ironic because I moved away from my real home two days ago and I'm currently crashing at a friend's house while I'm waiting to move into my apartment, which means I'm technically "homeless." But that's life.




I've been waiting to move to D.C. for 8 months. Eight months ago I moved home from Colombia, where I had been teaching fifth graders at a bilingual school in Periera. This is what I left:

Really.

This is what I came home to:












Although adjusting to the icy Midwest winter was difficult after leaving tropical Colombia, it was just as trying to adjust to living at home again. Coming home from an experience abroad shocks the senses the same way the winter cold shocks your body when you come home from the tropics. It was jarring to leave a place that had been my home for a year. To walk away from all of my furniture, my apartment, my dishes, my friends, my job, my view of the mountains, even my favorite bus driver, to come home, where no one understood what I had left, what I had built in that foreign country, or what I had experienced, was in every way more challenging than moving abroad had been. When you move to a new place, everything is exciting; everything is new. It's fun to take the metro in the morning and walk the streets to work right now. It's mind-boggling that I could walk out of the office and in just a few minutes I could stand in front of the White House. That's not how it feels to go home. Going home is comfortable, not interesting. Going home is sameness, repetition, and familiarity after days, weeks, months, or years of the exotic, the surprising, and the uncertainty of a new day.

It's called "reverse culture shock" for a reason, and it is what I believe is the hardest part of living abroad. Moving abroad can be scary, but coming home means leaving a life that you have worked hard to build that you might never be able to return to. At home, no one says "con mucho gusto mi amore" after you thank them, even if you thank them in Spanish. No one says "listo?" and no one, not even the Spanish speakers, pronounce "llama" or "yo" with that lovely "j" sound at the beginning like my Colombian students did. No one makes jugo de lulo or limonada, and no one here appreciates what it means when it doesn't rain for an entire day. They just don't get it. They also don't understand how difficult it actually was to teach and live abroad in a foreign country for a year. They don't understand how hard it was to wake up at 5:00 a.m., catch the bus, teach fifth graders who barely spoke English about prisms, talk to Spanish speaking taxi drivers or doctors or bakers or even my non-English speaking boss, walk past the homeless kids begging for money, buy weird foreign foods and learn how to cook them, plan lessons that will probably fail, fall asleep listening to the sounds of traffic and police outside, and then to wake up and do it all again. My family still thinks that I lived a fabulous life surrounded by palm trees and beautiful people in a great apartment. To a great extent, they are absolutely right.

Maybe that's the problem. No one knows how awful it was, and no one understands how amazing it was either. It seems impossible that everything could be so bad and so good at the same time, but it was. It seems impossible that I could be in a parent-teacher conference speaking Spanish and a week later I could be home baking pie with my family. It's shocking to realize that my family looks nothing like the Colombians I was around for months. It's shocking to see people throw away uneaten food, and it's shocking to realize how much money we have in the USA.

When I worked in a study abroad office, I always warned students who were about to leave for their own grand adventures about reverse culture shock. I told them to be prepared to feel totally out-of-place in their own homes. I also told them to remember the best parts of living abroad and to incorporate as much as they could into their normal, at home, lives. That's why I sometimes fry plantains and why I like to speak Spanish  to my dog. It's why the scent of Colombian laundry detergent on my unpacked "work" clothes means I might never again wash (or wear) the polo I wore to work. And it's why, after what seemed to be eight endless months, I was glad to leave home again. It's good to be back in the unfamiliar.

"Home"sickness

For me, homesickness is something that’s triggered. When I’m in a new place or someplace other than “home,” I’m usually not that homesick. I like exploring new places, trying new foods, and generally adapting to my environment. Maybe I’ve just never been away long enough to experience the full downward spiral of the Culture Shock U-Curve. I think it’s actually the returning, the “reverse Culture Shock,” that hits me the worst. Every now and then, something will trigger that wave of emotions that makes me long to be back in my comfort zone whether it’s here or abroad.

I have been fortunate enough to call quite a few places “home,” if even for a short period of time. In Italy, I made my home. I walked to school every day listening to an ever-growing playlist, and, now, if I hear a certain song from that list, I long to be back at the Duomo, or walking along the banks of the Arno. I have a perfume that, when I smell it, brings me back to those family moments like dinner with my host mother or sharing a bathroom with my host sister. It’s the little things, the mundane things, that really give me this longing to return.

And how do I fight this homesickness? I don’t. I take comfort in the thought that I was able to feel so “at home” in Italy. Do I get sad or lonely or long for my friends and the family I made? Certo. So what do I do? I put on my perfume and my favorite song from Italy. I close my eyes, and I let myself take a trip “home” … in my mind. For some people, this may not work. It may make them want to return even more. For me, it’s a way to keep my "home" alive in my memories. And though I can't always shake the longing and the heartache, I keep going. To stop changing and growing and adapting is to stop living.

I think my kryptonite of homesickness, however, is American football. My friends all tell me that I’m an old man because the one thing I always miss about home is dozing on the couch under my favorite blanket with a cat curled up in my lap, a dog asleep at my feet, a drink by my side, a fire in the fireplace, and a game on. Freshman year, I fought this homesickness by not watching any of the games (except the Super bowl). I knew, if I watched them in my tiny room with its white walls and florescent lighting, I would only miss home more. When I got snowed into Germany, and was driving on the bus to my third plane (which would be cancelled like all the rest), I longed, more than anything, to just be home on my couch. The snow could keep falling then, because I would be home and safely tucked away under my blanket and my cat.

What I’ve learned, however, is that we can create a new home when we find a way to make a space that gives us comfort after a long day. My tiny freshman year room brought me a lot of comfort when I came in from DC’s winter winds. My bamboo plant has traveled with me from home to home, giving my room a familiar feel no matter where I go.

The funny thing is, and please tell me if anyone else feels this way, when I’m at one home, I often get a longing to be at another. If I’m at school on a chilly fall day, I often long for my couch and football game. When I’m not at school, I often crave the comfort of a lazy Saturday spent in bed with no parents to disturb me or the freedom to walk around the city when I have nothing to do. Does this make me sad, the fact that part of me will always long for my “other home?” At times. But I also cherish the fact that I have managed to find so many places that give me the comfort and solace that we so often associate with home ...

and Puppies.

-K.M.

Jess' First Blog Post!

I've been out of the states for a little over a year now and I am home sick like CRAZY for Mexican food. It's ridiculous. I'm currently living with a bunch of Cali kids, specifically San Diego. and together once a week we find ourselves talking about how much we miss the deliciousness. And since they obvi have a much broader menu in their heads than I do I just sit, listen and drool. basically. 

 After two months of being abroad is when my first cravings hit. I was in China and Mexican food was hard to come by. there was one Mexican place around us and they didn’t even put beans in my burrito. There was no sour cream (which destroyed me. sometimes I have a hard time deciding if it’s the Mexican food or the sour cream I miss). and there was an innocent and sweet attempt at guacamole but let’s just say it was complete and utter failure. I'm now in turkey and had fajitas the other night... alllright.... I mighta given it to them but again no sour cream what I had instead was yohgurt (the Turks love that stuff here they put it on everything and I mean everything) and then the wrap was flaky and broke when I tried to role it... sighhh.

I don’t get mad anymore. I just wait in full anticipation for when I touchdown stateside on Aug 14th. 1st home, 2nd best friend’s house, 3rd froyo, 4th Mexican. Done.

Is it weird that what makes me homesick isn’t something traditionally from my home...? It's just one of those things I can't find good stuff of it anywhere but the Americas. 

Having said all that... anyone wanna grab any kind of Mexican food for the next few months I'll be more than down. In fact you can call me and I’ll prob already be sitting there for breakfast waiting for someone to join me.

xoxo
Jess

Saturday, Sunday

Oh, you are going to US to do your masters, how lucky you are? That’s the immediate response you get from friends and families when you break the news about your admission and visa being approved.

Yes, lucky I am while like 100 million others don’t get this privilege to move out or afford a quality education in a respectable and well recognized institution. Hell Yeah!! President Obama stays 10 blocks away, World Bank (It’s a big deal in the developing world like India to talk about the World Bank) is like 6 blocks away. Lucky indeed !!

An empty mind is a devils workshop, a proverb that I learnt during high school. Dad said, being young you should always think act constantly work for your own development. I mean seriously, can a human brain endure the same thing continuously for a sustained period of time. The answer is No, unless you are a scientist with no life except for the love of his/her life being the four corners of the lab. Well I am writing this blog cause my mind is empty, but hey I am still a nice guy not the devil.

Well, in India children don’t move out, like in US where they move out say after 18 (well that’s what I have heard through movies blah blah) but well mostly I have seen friends moving out for studies which is kind of natural. The girls in India get married and move out to stay with her husband and her in laws while the boy stays home gets married and brings in his wife to stay with his family.

Why I named this blog Saturday, Sunday?

What as a student, what would you do on a Saturday or Sunday? Go out party, drink, party and drink again and then what. Go to church do your laundry clean your room and then the day ends. Well honestly it sucks to do this for a whole year; you need someone close by. Someone means that which means everything for you, your parents, brothers and sisters. You can’t argue with your room mates but you can fight with your siblings and still eat dinner together as if nothing happened. You need a motivation for to look forward for those long weekends and those big Christmas break. You need your relatives (well even if you hate them, they still pay for your food and drinks and give you a homely feeling). Friends are awesome, companionship is awesome but you need your parents to cook for you, do that smelly laundry for you while you relax as a king/queen in your house. You really want to wake up that “One Day” where you don’t have to worry about making your breakfast and think about lunch or dinner.

Well honestly, I love America and I really never want to go back again, my city is too crowded for me but then the other part really scares the hell out of you. Like yesterday when a guy in the metro said, “Hey you have an accent, where do you come from” This accent is going to stick with me forever no matter how I roll my tongue to pronounce that perfect R’s. Will you be accepted in the society, a brown kid will always be brown and I will still be good at cricket than baseball (well I pulled up this cricket line because I don’t want the blog to be too serious).

But yes family plays a big part in your life decision, money is really really really important but family is more important in this like 50 or 60 years that we are in this planet earth. No matter how magnificent the Shenandoah’s mountain stands, it can never over shadow the love your parents shower on you. A big hug is all that is required to melt down the anger or even loneliness of a Saturday, Sunday

Blahhh I need my drink !!!

Breakfast

'Doing' a good breakfast is tough when you start college, and most adults still don't 'do' breakfast well into their 30s and 40s. After I moved out of Thurston, though (and into Ivory), I finally made it a point to eat breakfast every morning. Breakfast really gets your brain up in the morning and you really shouldn't do without it.

This might be a little strange, but growing up, I always looked forward to breakfast. It's the one meal my family would sit down for before going to work or school. Usually we'd come home too late for dinner together.

I'm not much of a picky eater, so I didn't mind having the same thing every morning (cereal, oatmeal, tofu), but sometimes when my mom was feeling generous, she would make me a cup of traditional Filipino (Spanish?) hot chocolate.


This stuff is not for the faint of heart. It's pure chocolate tablets mixed in boiling water. The chocolate isn't even sweet. Tough stuff that really got me awake in the morning (no joe for me) and kept my sweet tooth in line all day.

Coming to college really made me miss my cereal and hot chocolate, so I make it a point to always have some chocolate tablets and evaporated milk in my pantry.

Carol Says ,,,

Washington DC is an amazing city. I am touched by so many museums around. I am so immersing into the environment of culture and politics. Here, I had many first experience, like eating cupcakes, kayaking in Potomac river, watching fireworks, and visiting White House. For anyone who comes here soon, you never lose interests to the city.